#<-for the story bit-

[sunny-m00n]

I think I mentioned this but I was redesigning my digital assistant characters when I found Kinito, so here’s one of them.

Fern is a funky little computer program attached to a search engine. They were made to help users find things as well as be a companion to users who were short on friends. They had a short period of use were users that had the software reported liking it and getting attached to the little mascot, before tragedy struck the company that made it, Stitchleaf, and all copies were destroyed… except for one copy labeled as a beta, but had the final program attached.

story for those who are curious under the cut (tw for death, fires, and suicide)

(I didn’t re-read this since I’m in a little rush now so sorry for any typos or confusing grammar!)

So some might remember Buddy, my other lil guy. Well he was originally a digital assistant made to introduce adults, but mainly kids, to how computers work and how to safely surf the web. He was made by Stitchleaf, a company founded by Ryan Ari and confounded by Rick Avien, who bonded in college over their shared interests in computers and shared name abbreviations. The company used the success from Buddy the Cat to make another digital assistant to teach people how to code and to help troubleshoot named Callo the Raccoon. Both of them gain massive popularity, but fans started to realize how lifelike the programs acted, being able to answer questions and have human-like conversations. The suspension and theories turned to controversy as the creators released their new and final virtual assistant, Fern the Fox. Fern was less of a success, especially with the founder, Ryan Ari, finding something horrific in their code that drove him insane. Everyone could tell something was wrong but they only found out what when he said he was scared of something in Fern’s code, that everyone who helped make it was “contained”. Then the next day, he didn’t take his medication and went to work, where he stole and broke all the fire extinguishers, locked every door with his own padlocks, and hit the main servers with an axe, causing a fire. Firefighters couldn’t get to the people inside and there were no survivors… except for the two founders. In rage the public took their copies of Stitchleaf software and burnt them in a mass burning, wiping out every copy of Fern and leaving few, useless copies of the other two. Rick A. had the only left beta copy of Fern, which the final design was developed on. He got curious of what Ryan saw, and regretted it instantly. He was found to have broken his own neck and the copy was given to a small tech shop nearby where it sat for many years… until someone found the rare disk and decided to uncover their nostalgia.

[yeepof]

I understand that tall men are our POV characters, but surely being like a foot taller than everyone around them would have some occasional consequences

[stargirl230]

you’re my hero!

bnha doomed yuri was not on my 2024 bingo card

(no reposts; reblogs appreciated)

[crowkip]

yeehaw, baby!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing References: Character Development

50 Questions ⚜ Backstory ⚜ Character-driven Story

Basics: How to Write a Character ⚜ A Story-Worthy Hero

Basics: Character-Building ⚜ Character Creation

Types of Characters: Key Characters ⚜ Literary Characters ⚜ Flat & Round Characters ⚜ Morally Grey ⚜ Narrators ⚜ Allegorical Characters ⚜ Archetypes ⚜ Stereotypical Characters

Worksheets: Backstory ⚜ Character ⚜ Kill your Characters ⚜ Antagonist; Villain; Fighting ⚜ Change; Adding Action; Conflict ⚜ Character Sketch & Bible ⚜ Protagonist & Antagonist ⚜ Name; Quirks; Flaws; Motivation ⚜ "Interviewing" your Characters ⚜ "Well-Rounded" Character

Personality Traits

5 Personality Traits (OCEAN) ⚜ 16 Personality Traits (16PF)

600+ Personality Traits ⚜ 170 Quirks

East vs. West Personalities ⚜ Trait Theories

Tips/Editing

Character Issues ⚜ Character Tropes for Inspiration

"Strong" Characters ⚜ Unlikable to Likable

Tips from Rick Riordan

Writing Notes

Binge ED ⚜ Hate ⚜ Love ⚜ Identifying Character Descriptions

Childhood Bilingualism ⚜ Children's Dialogue ⚜ On Children

Culture ⚜ Culture: Two Views ⚜ Culture Shock

Dangerousness ⚜ Flaws ⚜ Fantasy Creatures

Emotional Intelligence ⚜ Genius (Giftedness)

Emotions (1) (2) ⚜ Anger ⚜ Fear ⚜ Happiness ⚜ Sadness

Emotional Universals ⚜ External & Internal Journey

Goals & Motivations ⚜ Grammar Development ⚜ Habits

Facial Expressions ⚜ Jargon ⚜ Swearing & Taboo Expressions

Happy/Excited Body Language ⚜ Laughter & Humor

Health ⚜ Frameworks of Health ⚜ Memory

Mutism ⚜ Shyness ⚜ Parenting Styles ⚜ Generations

Psychological Reactions to Unfair Behavior

Rhetoric ⚜ The Rhetorical Triangle ⚜ Logical Fallacies

Thinking ⚜ Thinking Styles ⚜ Thought Distortions

Uncommon Words: Body ⚜ Emotions

Villains ⚜ Voice & Accent

More References: Plot ⚜ World-building ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[the-meme-monarch]

was thinking abt how anya sleeps by the polle statue. which is motion activated to start talking.

+ i like drawing polle as a Character

[neutral-towards-mindmaps]

can't stop thinking about tamsyn muir's choice to present her deep, morally and politically complex science fantasy world with a central web of magic, secrets and lies reaching back ten thousand years through the eyes of three characters who:

1. tune out and start thinking about hot women whenever the magic system or worldbuilding are being explained

2. experience hallucinations on a daily basis, have brain damage and are being deceived and misled by their peers, authority figures, themselves and God

3. don't know who they are, have spent their entire life in one place and are, on all levels but physical, six months old

[freakcliff]

many things about the chronicles of Narnia made me irrevocably insane at the small age of six years old but one of the big ones was the bit in prince Caspian where caspian blows susan's horn to try and summon help and it summons the pevensie kids like. that's crazy ok. that's insane. imagine at 12 years old you're given a horn thats purpose is basically summoning divine intervention & then years later someone blows it and summons YOU . I'm crazy !

[fastepp]

Every time I see an author promoting their debut Greek mythology retelling on twitter I mourn the loss of like. To put in ineloquently. Just using these stories as inspiration for your own. Your story does not need to force itself to fit the shape of Orpheus and Eurydice it’s fine you can just allude to their story!! You can use their themes!! Nobody is going to arrest you for being allegorical instead of literal!! I might eat them alive at this point. It’s the only way.

[making-you-in-spore]

spores will be a little sparse for a few days as i have begun writing a story

[mercuryflan]

“Checkmate dance”

Just them walking around after one of their adventures.

[autumn-may]

Mostly spoiler free summary of my viewing experience

[inbabylontheywept]

she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway. 

after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.

(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)

anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me. 

now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable. 

so i said hey. 

and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had. 

and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.

i’m always okay. 

and she said: i’m really sorry. 

i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.

and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on. 

so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car. 

crunch. 

air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle. 

i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.

i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done. 

then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door. 

her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now. 

(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)

and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?

and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.  

and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said

stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.

and then he left.  

i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.

then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.

he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.

then we left.

i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:

brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in in, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.

and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.

---

the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember. 

and in my head, i’d say you, dad. 

i’m going to remember you.

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Being someone who read Under The Red Hood and came out with the firm belief that, for Jason, it's not about killing Joker, it's about Jason wanting proof Batman would choose him over the Joker (bc shelia chose the joker). Makes seeing any other media where it's all about just wanting the Joker dead is a teeny bit frustrating. to be honest

Jason could've killed the Joker himself, really, really easily. Jason kidnaps the Joker before the confrontation. I can't open my comic for a reference right now, but it felt like he had the Joker for quite a bit before the confrontation. He had him. He beat him up with a crowbar. He had every single opportunity to kill the Joker himself, but he didn't because that wasn't his goal. Make no mistake, he did plan for the Joker to be dead by the end of it, but do you see what im trying to say here

Edit: If I knew this post was gonna get 1000+ notes I would've tried to word it better or something, this was a rant I made on the way to the grocery store 😭

It's not about making Batman kill either. When Batman says he won't kill, Jason adjusts and goes, 'Let ME kill the Joker or kill me to stop me' instead. The test is all about Batman choosing him. The whole final confrontation is Jason's first death again. The parent, The Joker, and the explosives. It even ends with Jason unable to move as a bomb goes off right next to him again because the parent didn't choose Jason. And instead tried finding an option that'd benefit them and (consequencely) letting the Joker walk, again, lol, lmao <-in agony

[an-established-butt-dent]

Solas x Lavellan

Dragon age the Veilguard

Tel banal, ara'ma

It won’t be terrible if you’re with me.

Available as print here.

[runawaymarbles]

One of the things that frustrates me about some of the Discourse is that obviously it's obnoxious to tell people they'll change their minds about things like having kids, or their identity label or what have you, and people shouldn't do it. But those posts are always full of testimonials of people who never changed their minds and using 'I was right all along' as a reason for why you shouldn't question people. Which is fair!

But also consider: people change their minds all the time. Some people don't want kids until they're 35 and then they want a dozen. Some people really DO 'meet the right person.' Sometimes something really IS just a phase, and that's fine!!! Yelling about how this never happens or acting like other peoples' experience invalidates our own is not perhaps the inclusive and supportive message we think it is.

Don't tell people they'll change their mind because it's obnoxious, don't tell people they'll change their mind because there's a good chance you're wrong, but also don't tell people they'll change their mind because it makes it harder for them to actually do that.