#and i also swear im writing

[ghost-proofbaby]

forever cursed to write readers & ocs who would sacrifice everything, including themselves, to see their lovers safe.

[sahisan]

— third door on the left, marked "debate club"

two professors. one office door away from kissing or killing each other. maybe both.

featuring . theoretical philosophy professor!anaxa x practical philosophy professor!fem!reader.

tags . university au. nodern au. suggestive. semi-public sex mentioned/referenced. (you make so many) sex jokes. fluff. ooc. soft anaxa. comedy. mild language. academic rivalry but make it professors. mentions of alcohol use. workplace romance. bickering as a love language.. flirting. so many philosophy terms (that i barely understand). wc 3.1k.

a/n . a friend dabbed me into philosophy and i folded. the handjob joke was initially hers but i couldn't help myself. im not a philosophy major so if you are please forgive me for any mistakes, my friend who actually majored in it helped me a small bit and im still confused. lmk if there are any typos. enjoy <3

"your handwriting is offensive," you mutter, turning the paper sideways, then upside down.

anaxa doesn’t look up from his tea. "you still read it, though."

"barely. is this supposed to say 'conscious' or 'conscience'?"

"both."

"no."

"well, that’s why i'm a philosopher."

"i also am one. your last footnotes gave me a headache."

he finally looks up, raising an eyebrow. "then my work here is done."

"so you’re telling me," you, crossing your arms. "that again, you rewrote the entire reading list after midterms?"

"no," he replies, not looking up from his notes. "i rewrote it because of midterms. frankly, your students deserve better than whatever you assigned them. i read the discussion boards."

"you’re on the discussion boards?"

"i moderate three of them. and i banned a user who called you hot. you’re welcome."

you pause and tilt your head. in the end, you mumble "...that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever done for me."

"don’t get used to it," he mutters, knowing you're exaggerating. "they spelled ‘epistemological’ wrong."

your bring in tea and fruit for your students. anaxagoras brings nothing and cancels half his office hours because, quote, "philosophy isn’t learned in panic, it’s metabolized in silence" (half the admin hates him).

his and your students are in quiet (jealous) war. campus hallway signs include:

"vote: whose exam will kill us with more dignity?

team prof [name]: understanding through application

team prof anaxagoras: no multiple choice, only anguish"

you and anaxa both pretend you don’t see the posters.

you end up stealing one and taping it to the wall in your office. anaxa responds by using it as part of a pop quiz question.

the students get back by gifting both of you matching mugs that say: "#1 philosophical threat". anaxa mutters about not joking with philosophy majors anymore. (they're literally his students and he's starting to get scared)

him and you sit on opposite ends of the philosophy department’s couch like it’s some kind of contested ground.

you're reading ethics of desire upside down. he’s pretending not to notice.

"why do you hate me?" you ask, out of nowhere.

"i don’t."

"then why do you argue with me in faculty meetings like we're at the fucking olympics?"

"because you like it," he looks over, holding eye contact.

"and," he adds after a beat. "because you're brilliant. and you're wrong about kant."

"i’m never wrong about kant," you frown.

"see? fun."

the dean told you it's mandatory to be in the department-wide group chat. anaxa has notifications off, your have them on, and neither of you participate until absolutely necessary.

today, someone sends a meme about faculty budgeting. it evolves quickly into... something.

@ecologywillsurvive_vaelis: what if we held a bake sale for chalk

@anaxagorastheory: what.

@cai_NaOCl: maybe we should sell naming rights to the new ethics wing. welcome to the ‘crypto.com moral foundations lab’

@anaxagorastheory: if you sell naming rights to a lab about ethics i will personally remove my eye patch and stare into your soul.

@praxis[name]: we’ve talked about this, the patch stays on in public spaces

@praxis[name]: and cai i'm going to rename your organic chem wing to 'half baked molecule lounge' if you bring up the ethics wing again

@anaxagorastheory: i’m just saying. the thread of reason is fraying.

@praxis[name]: your self-control is fraying

@anaxagorasthery: say that in office hours.

@epiphany_uni_admin: hi everyone! just a reminder that this is a professional chat

"you're late," you say without looking up from your laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard like you've been waiting specifically to outpace him.

"i was grading," anaxa responds, setting down a stack of painfully annotated printed philosophy 201 essays with a grimace. "your TAs let them write in first person and i nearly hemorrhaged."

"they’re freshmen, let them think they matter," you reply, finally glancing up at him.

"dangerous ideology for a praxis professor."

you hum. "dangerous man to say it."

"you’re wearing my coat," anaxa notes when he opens his office door and finds you there.

you blink once. then, "i spilled tea on mine."

he steps aside to lt you in, utterly unsurprised.

"also," you add as your shrug the coat tighter. "yours smells nicer."

he doesn’t say anything for a moment.

"would it be weird if i told you i hope you spill more tea tomorrow?"

you smile, mischievous.

"depends where."

"you always write in pen," your mutter, flipping through the latest draft of his paper with red ink bleeding into printed black. "only pen."

"i trust my convictions," anaxa replies, deadpan.

"you misspelled 'epistemological' three times after getting distracted by me."

"i was testing you."

"were you?" you ask, eyes narrowing. "you wrote 'epistomagical' at one point."

he shrugs, takes a sip from his coffee. it's black and bitter and you know he hates it.

you bite back a smile. "idiot."

"your handwriting is worse," he mutters. "at least i try."

"i write in runes," you say, prim.

"those are hearts above your i's."

"...runes of war."

"do you always grade with red?" you ask, leaning over his desk, some random paper in hand that you forgot about long ago.

anaxagoras doesn't look up, "of course. red forces clarity. confrontation."

"you wrote 'source?' in all caps across a paragraph about love in greek tragedy."

"and?"

you smile, as if holding back laugter. "it was a quote. from you."

he looks up. slow. silent.

you set the paper down with calmness he swears one can only see in fiction.

"next time, check your own citations, professor."

wednesdays are mostly alright. you walk into the staff lounge and there he is: anaxagoras. at the coffee machine. holding two cups.

"brewing double today?" you raise an eyebrow.

"i had to offer the students a choice," he says, pressing the start button. "do you want to study logic, or do you want to study… your soul?"

"you’re so terrible," you say with a sigh, taking the second cup from him. "you know no one really wants to study their soul?"

"not true," he replies, smiling smugly. "they want to study it, they just don’t know it yet."

he takes a sip of his coffee, watching you. you narrow your eyes.

"and what's this 'quiz' you’ve decided to torture them with?"

"it’s not a quiz. it’s a philosophical challenge," he says, moving to the small whiteboard. "i ask them to define their own existence without using ‘i think, therefore i am'.

"you’re evil," you raise an eyebrow.

"i'm not," he argues. "they tiktokified descartes!"

"they what?"

anaxa finds a note slipped into his bag.

it’s folded on thick paper, smells like your hand cream.

in that unmistakable handwriting, hearts a constant above the i's like it's a love letter (maybe it is):

"you didn't have breakfast this morning, so i left a little something in your office

<3"

he stares at it for five minutes straight. then folds it again and tucks it into his coat pocket. the 'little something' ended up being a bento of salad and two bacon sandwiches.

he won’t ever admit it, but he carries it for the rest of the week (and he will absolutely not start mimicking your handwriting later).

it's a faculty party. you're in black silk and sipping terrible wine. anaxa's next to you, lecturing someone on metaphysical paradoxes. again.

"you could’ve worn a bow tie," you murmur when he leans in.

he looks at you like he’s already undone. "and you could’ve worn less loud heels if you didn’t want me distracted."

your fingers pause on the stem of your glass. "hm. touché."

"that’s french."

"you speak french?"

he leans closer, "i learn languages for spite."

you lick your teeth to hide a grin. "is that how you learned to say je veux te baiser in the hallway last week?"

anaxa chokes on his wine.

"you're in my office," he says, arms crossed, glasses half-lowered.

"your sign says 'office hours clpsed unless it's a crisis'. this," you say, dropping a thick bundle of papers on his desk, "is a crisis."

he glances down.

"this is… a peer review."

"your peer review. you cited a wikipedia page in a footnote."

anaxa doesn’t look even remotely sorry. "it was cited ironically."

"you teach epistemology, anaxagoras."

"and irony is a form of knowledge."

you blink. “oh my god. leave."

"it's my office."

"i don't care, leave."

obvious enough, your offices share a wall (god bless the dean and the department chair). it’s the point of thus where, sometimes, you hear anaxa recite passages of obscure texts to himself aloud; sometimes in ancient languages.

today, it’s greek.

"…lógos eikós," he says. "reason is likely—"

"and so is the fact that your argument on practical virtue is still wrong," you call through the wall.

"it was metaphorical!"

"so is your whole career!"

you hear the sound of a book being thrown at the wall and smile.

"you rearranged my bookshelves," you say flatly, arms crossed, eyebrow arched.

"i reorganized them by author. the fact that your copy of moral letters to lucilius was next to the hungry caterpillar is—"

"—educational range."

anaxagoras doesn't smirk, not really, just sips his coffee like it's the antidote to your nonsense.

"you’re impossible."

"and yet you still broke into my office to alphabetize my praxis."

"it was unlocked."

"it was not."

(it was.)

anaxagoras gets sick and refuses to take time off. you physically remove him from the building.

"i’m fine," he rasps.

"you’re a hazard," you say, throwing his bag over your shoulder. "you coughed on three students and almost knocked over aristotle's bust in your auditorium.

he slumps into your car without protest. later, you make him him soup and read aloud from his own research while he’s half-asleep just to see if you can make him correct your pronunciation mid-fever. he does.

"you’re ridiculous," you murmur.

"you’re warm," he mumbles, drifting.

"i’m human."

"keep being that."

@epiphanyconfessions

"i’m just saying. if prof [name] leaned over my desk the way she leans over prof anaxagoras’s desk i too would forget how to spell my own name"

@epiphanyconfessions

"anybody remember that one time she called him 'anaxagoras' during a rare joint lecture and he straightened up like a victorian man seeing ankle for the first time. someone sedate them."

@epiphanyconfessions

"i heard prof anaxa say ‘consent is the highest form of logic’ and i haven’t been the same since. like sir i just wanted to pass intro metaphysics please don’t take me apart like that"

you're the one who finds the twitter account. it's an automated bot which quite literally posts all the gossip in the university. unsurprisingly now, 70% of what you've seen include you and anaxa.p

you scroll for three minutes in silence, then turns your phone around so he can see it.

"i think your students are obsessed with me."

anaxa doesn't look a single bit impressed.

"well, at least i've managed to teach them something about attention to detail."

you end up paired for the damn symposium panel because someone in admin has a cruel sense of humor.

"just be civil," the dean says, sipping bitter coffee as the two of you stand on either side of the projector.

"civil as in—" you start.

"no blood on the mic."

anaxagoras doesn't smirk, not quite, but there's a twitch of something near his mouth when he says "i'll keep my composure if she does."

"i never lose my composure," you shoot back.

his eyes go to your mouth. "you have. once."

your silence is thin and sharp and full of fuck yous that do not get spoken.

the dean groans. "if either of you fucks the other on the mic, i swear to god i'm retiring."

you're walking out of the symposium together, the cold air catching your hair just right.

"they misquoted kant four times," he mutters, voice slightly hoarse

"only four?" you tease. "you’re mellowing."

"i’m trying not to ruin our evening."

"oh?" you glance at him. "are we having an evening?"

he stops walking and you take two steps before realizing he’s still behind you.

"…yes," he says. "if you want."

your expression warms without looking at him. "i do."

he doesn’t say anything else, just walks beside you the rest of the way, hands close, not touching.

it's christmas eve and everyone’s a little tipsy in the lounge, even the department chair.

anaxa is holding a glass of deep red wine and trying not to react when you make a joke about morals and oral fixation in the same sentence.

later, outside under the garden lights, you speak.

"cai told me your students think we're sleeping together," you say, watching the breeze catch your own hair.

"we are."

"they suspect, anaxagoras."

"then they’re late to class."

you laugh, quiet and unguarded, the kind of laugh that makes his shoulders drop. he reaches out to fix the collar of his your coat.

"you're soft when you're smug," you murmur.

"you're smug when you're soft," anaxa retaliates.

"you’re in love with me."

"that too."

youre both tired. the grading deadlines loom and the campus heating is out again.

"sit down," anaxa mutters, patting the seat next to him on the floor of his office.

"your carpet has chalk dust on it."

"so do your pants, professor."

you sigh as if you're bearing the weight of the world on your lone shoulders and sit.

there's no light in the office but the blue glow of his screen, and the soft static of the heater humming through the vents.

"i'm not rewriting the conclusion," you murmur, almost asleep on his shoulder.

"i know."

"but i miiight let you footnote me."

he hums, head tilting against yours. "if you do, i'll stop quoting you out of context."

"...maybe don't. i sound smarter when you do it."

"you are smart."

you hum, noncommittal. anaxa sighs.

anaxagoras is having a deja vu; a really strong one.

you're seated across from each other at another faculty mixer (he complained about seeing too many people outside his lectures in the past three months on the way to this one). you're wearing black, sharp eyeliner, and a gold pin in the shape of a crescent. anaxa is halfway through a whiskey and trying very hard not to look impressed.

"you know they’re calling us ‘the debate club’?" you say, lazily stirring your drink. "it’s not flattering."

"they only say that because you get louder when you’re wrong."

"you’re still upset i said plato would’ve folded if someone gave him a nice handjob."

he tried to mask laughing with accidentally choking on his whiskey.

he definitely is having a deja vu. (he loves it with you.)

you kiss once in the archives.

it’s a study break, technically.

you're sitting on the dusty desk. he’s standing between your legs. you're surrounded by books about love and logic and ancient epics, and you don’t speak about the copy of whatever book you were supposed to help him with looking for.

later, as you fix his messed up hair again for him, when he’s too flustered to do it straight, you murmur,

"you lose arguments better than anyone i've ever met."

he leans into your palm where it cups his jaw.

"i only lose to you."

"i hope so."

he sees you grading in the courtyard and sits beside you, uninvited.

"your first-years are circulating a petition."

"ah. is it about the essay extension?"

"no. they want you and i to 'just publicly kiss already and not torture us anymore'. their words."

you don't pause your hand. "did you sign it?"

"...maybe."

you're more often in his office than you're not.

"if we get caught—" he starts, breathless.

"it's your fault. stop kissing me like you’re too lazy to drive us home," you cut him off, sliding your hands into his hair.

"i’m not built for scandal," he breathes against your mouth.

"you’re wearing an eyepatch, anaxagoras."

"...it’s academic."

"so is this," you say tilting his head back, climbing into his lap as your hand loosens his tie. "let me study you."

"you’ve been reading the same sentence for five minutes," he murmurs.

you don’t look up; your head is resting against your palm, pen slack between your fingers. "because it says 'therefore, subjectivity is inherently sus'."

anaxagoras blinks. "they submitted that in ink?"

"typed," you sigh. "with a footnote that just says 'as per amongus'."

he leans over, eyes scanning the page, then: "…expel them," flatly.

"i can’t expel them."

"i can."

"you teach philosophy, not moral hygiene."

"same thing, if you ask the right philosopher."

you're sprawled on the old couch in his office, shoes off, his coat folded under your head, flipping through his notes. your eyes hurt. you flip the papers upside down.

"you really wrote a thirty-page rebuttal on the concept of divine intervention just because i said some gods might have been hot?"

"you said apollo could get it in front of our students."

"and you wrote a philosophical hitpiece," you counter.

"i cited my sources," anaxa grumbles, tired.

"you are absolutely insane."

"we're pretty much equal in terms of that, i believe."

he brings you coffee exactly how you like it before every morning seminar. you make his lecture slides look presentable. you pass post-it notes through interdepartmental mail—yours are gold-trimmed, his are so painfully neat. once, someone intercepted one. it just said:

'you were right about that footnote. bring your smugness and your mouth to my office at five. i need to be convinced again.'

you're reading in the living room. anaxa's half-asleep next to you, head on your lap, one hand absently tracing lazy circles on your thigh.

"what are you annotating now?" he murmurs.

"your latest essay."

"and?"

"you cited yourself fourteen times."

"i trust my sources."

you hum. "sure you do."

"if we were set to constantly teach a class together," anaxa says quietly, "we’d probably get fired."

you yawn. "i think we’d start a cult."

"that too. if we didn't already."

a hum. “a sexy cult."

he laughs, soft and tired and you want to kiss him until your lips remember his skin for the rest of your life. "you’re the one who brings up sex every time we talk about curriculum."

"it’s integral to ethics and aesthetics."

"and not philosophy?"

"it is philosophy," you grumble. "do you talk about pleasure in your lectures?"

he pauses. "…not directly."

"coward."

he squeezes your hand. "i love you."

"i know," you say. "even if your syllabus doesn’t include eros."

he smiles into your hair. "next semester."

[pocmuzings]

welcome  to  a  guide  for  2025  rpc  and  a  throwback  to  the  importance  of  creating  well  rounded  ,  developed  characters  .

a  general  lovenote  and  reminder  on  how  to  create  characters  people  want  to  rp  with  ,  as  discussed  by  g.    please  note  ,  these  are  all  my  own  thoughts  and  feelings  ,  but  i'm  not  '  married  '  to  any  of  this  .  i'm  happy  for  open  conversation  ,  thoughts  ,  feedback  etc  ,  but  i  don't  tolerate  aggressive  messaging  .

the  first  thing  i  think  about  when  i  think about  my  character  ,  whether  for  a  rp  ,  a  book  ,  a  short  story  ,  or  a  1x1  partner  is  .  .  .  where  is  my  character  ?  not  just  physically  ,  but  emotionally  .  what  got  them  there  ?  what  have  they  already  overcome  ?  what  do  they  have  LEFT  to  overcome  ?

whenever  i  write  or  create  a  character  ,  i  think  about  them  in  the  same  way  i  think  about  any  story  making  .  stories  (  typically  and  in  some  manner  )  have  beginnings  ,  climaxes  and  ends  .  they  also  have  problems  that  need  to  be  solved  (  or  not  solved  )  .  there's  an  arc  we  follow  .  we  go  up  the  mountain  ,  then  back  down  again  .

a  beginning  is  not  necessarily  '  born  in  1982  ,  to  two  loving  parents  '  .  it  doesn't  need  to  be  a  beginning  of  time  ,  but  can  just  be  the  beginning  to  your  characters  story  .  e.g  '  despite  having  two  loving  parents  ,  she  had  a  deep  focus  on  soccer  .  if  not  soccer  ,  then  maths  .  if  not  maths  ,  something  else  .  from  a  young  age  ,  she  strove  for  perfection  and  being  the  best  at  something  .'

this  beginning  sets  the  tone  of  your  character  .  in  a  few  sentence  ,  we  can  already  see  what  kind  of  person  she  is  and  know  that  she  has  some  internal  demons  she's  battling  .  we  don't  necessarily  need  her  entire  family  tree  unless  it's  critical  to  the  story.

from  there,  we  have  our  climax  or  problem  statement  ,  where  things  really  begin  to  boil  .  again  ,  it  doesn't  necessarily  need  to  be  '  everything  came  to  a  head  when  her  mother  died  '  .  we  can  make  it  more  character  focused  by  writing  '  in  2012  ,  her  mother  died  and  she  threw  herself  into  trying  to  create  the  perfect  replacement  family  .  she  got  married  to  4  different  men  in  the  space  of  5  years  ,  and  has  5  children  shared  among  them  ,  as  well  as  2  step  children  .  but  she  is  unable  to  settle  down  .  she  feels  restless  .  she  finds  it  hard  to  be  a  mother  because  everything  reminds  her  of  her  own  mother  ,  and  the  loss  she's  endured  .  '  now  ,  we  already  know  two  things  about  our  character  :

1  .  she  wants  to  be  perfect  and  the  best  ,  including  at  creating  families

2  .  she  is  terrified  of  her  role  in  motherhood  due  to  the  loss  of  her  own  mother  and  feeling  unmoored  without  her

this  can  then  take  us  to  the  problem  solving  portion  of  the  character  .  this  is  usually  where  i  like  to  start  my  character  in  rps  and  1x1  and  novel  worlds  .  we  have  these  2  issues  and  2  core  beliefs  within  the  character  .  they're  instrumental  to  her  .  how  are  we  going  to  overcome  it  ?  ARE  we  going  to  overcome  it  ?

we  can  begin  to  think  of  the  butterfly  effect  in  terms  of  our  character  .  we  can  begin  to  think  of  the  tree   and  its  branches  growing  within  her  ,  extending  out  to  other  characters  .  we  can  see  how  she  effects  other  people  ,  including  those  close  to  her  ,  not  close  to  her  ,  new  friends  ,  old  friends  ,  new  love  interests  ,  past  interests  .  we  can  create  drama  and  connections  because  we  have  a  strong  foundation  .

so  .  where  does  it  end  ?  does  it  need  to  end  happily  ?  simple  answer  is  no  .  your  character  can  end  in  the  exact  same  place  as  they  did  at  the  beginning  ,  but  the  point  is  that  we've  gone  on  the  journey  with  the  character  .  maybe  we've  seen  her  talk  to  her  mother's  grave  .  maybe  we've  seen  her  go  to  grief  counselling  .  maybe  she's  gotten  pregnant  or  married  again  .  the  problem  statement  doesn't  stop  her  or  stick  her  in  one  place  .  in  fact  ,  if  anything  ,  it  can  encourage  her  to  keep  making  the  same  mistakes  .  on  the  coin  flip  ,  she  can  learn  .  she  can  grow  .  she  can  heal  .  she  can  mend  the  relationships  with  her  kids  ,  her  past  partners  ,  rekindle  love  ,  or  find  new  love  .  the  whole  point  in  the  made-up  'ending'  for  a  character  ,  is  that  we  have  options  .  we  haven't  locked  her  down  .  we  can  continue  to  plot  ,  connect  ,  develop  ,  etc  ,  as  we  go  along  .

QUESTIONS  AND  THOUGHTS  I  CONSIDER  WHEN  CREATING  A  CHARACTER  :

how  has  your  character  ended  up  where  they  are  right  in  this  moment?  think  about  where  you’re  starting  them  from,  and  what  that  looks  like  realistically.  not  just  physically  :  how  did  they  get  to  this  place  ?  but  also  mentally  :  what  did  they  have  to  do  to  become  the  person  they  are  ?  was  it  good  or  bad  ?  everything  you  are  and  do  and  become  as  a  human  is  made  up  of  tiny  almost  inconsequential  decisions  or  choices  you  made.  you  decided  to  study  x.  you  broke  up  with  y.  your  parent  passed  away  so  you  had  to  come  back  to  your  childhood  home.  your  illustrious  career  came  crashing  down  and  you  need  a  place  to  cool  off.  you  never  left  here,  you’ve  been  here  from  the  beginning,  because  you’re  searching  for  something.  what  is  it?  what  is  the  thing  that  has  your  character  right  where  they  are  in  this  exact  moment  ? 

what  emotion  do  they  feel  the  most?  regret,  anger,  longing,  nostalgia  ?  this  helps  drive  your  characters  motives  past  and  presently.  it  also  helps  you  understand  their  goals.  what  they  want  to  achieve  and  why.  maybe  they  yearn  for  longing  and  friendship  and  connection  because  they  never  got  it  as  a  child,  whether  at  home  or  at  school.  maybe  they  regret  not  keeping  in  touch  with  their  childhood  friends  because  now  they  are  surrounded  by  people  they  can’t  trust  and  work  in  a  shitty  environment  where  you  have  to  climb  over  others  to  get  on  top.  everyone  has  a  goal.  everyone  has  an  emotion  that  drives  it.  what  is  your  characters  and  why  does  it  matter?  how  does  it  present? 

when’s  the  last  time  they  cried  and  why?  everybody  cries  and  everybody  cries  in  very  different  ways.  it  says  a  lot  about  the  emotional  state  of  a  character  and  their  emotional  health.  are  they  in  tune  with  their  emotions  and  cry  at  appropriate  times?  do  they  compartmentalise  it?  do  they  only  cry  when  angry?  dig  into  it  and  think  of  the  why  why  why.  why  does  my  character  only  cry  at  this  one  thing?  why  does  my  character  only  feel  safe  crying  alone?  why. 

what  is  your  characters  biggest  regret  in  life?  did  they  get  on  a  plane  when  they  should  have  stayed?  did  they  study  a  subject  only  because  their  parents  wanted  them  to?  did  they  not  kiss  the  girl  when  they  wanted  to?  let’s  be  honest.  our  lives  are  filled  with  “if  only  i’d  done  xyz”  .  if  only  .  this  also  provides  a  great  opportunity  to  MAKE  these  plots  and  plot  with  other  people.  now  we  can  come  up  with  exes  or  ex  best  friends  or  old  flames  or  whatever  whatever  ,  because  there’s  a  good  chance  your  character  regrets  something  that  impacts  someone  else  and  they  regret  it  BECAUSE  of  that  impact  . 

ADDITIONAL  THOUGHTS  AND  TIPS  I'VE  PICKED  UP  WHILE  RPING

honestly  the  more  “whys”  you  can  answer  for  your  character,  the  more  in  depth  you’re  getting.  in  order  for  other  people  to  understand  your  character,  you  need  to  understand  them  yourself.  you  can’t  expect  people  to  write  with  your  character  if  they  don’t  really  have  much  of  a  stable  personality  and  your  plots  don’t  make  much  sense.  remember:  plotting  should  contribute  to  your  character  and  their  development.  human  relationships  don’t  just  exist  because  we  like  them.  they  exist  because  they  serve  an  unserved  part  within  ourselves. 

genuinely  think  of  their  hobbies.  it’s  all  well  and  good  to  say  “she’s  a  bookworm  and  loves  puzzles”  “he  likes  music”  but  like.  what  does  that  actually  mean?  WHY  do  they  like  certain  things  ?  do  they  like  reading  books  or  writing?  do  they  like  fantasy  and  escapism  because  it  reminds  them  of  childhood?  do  they  listen  to  only  their  dads  favourite  music  because  they  miss  him?  do  they  make  playlists  for  niche  and  specific  moods  only  applicable  to  them?  why  are  their  hobbies  important  to  them? 

consider  their  connections,  not  just  future  but  npc  and  current.   how  would  5  close  friends  describe  them  in  one  word?  how  would  their  ex  describe  them  in  one  word?  what  is  one  thing  that  others  could  safely  always  rely  on  your  character  for  (eg  designated  driver  on  nights  out,  always  having  some  type  of  fidgeting  device,  knowing  a  phone  app  to  help  you  meditate  or  streamline  a  process  etc  etc).  we  all  exist  in  the  worlds  of  our  loved  ones,  past,  present  and  future.  we  leave  marks  with  them.  we  are  known  to  them.  so  what  is  your  character  known  and  loved  for? 

pick  your  plot  first,  not  your  fc  or  your  character.  i  know  this  sounds  counterintuitive  but  when  you  have  a  plot  for  a  character  and  a  clear  path  for  development  -  it  helps  everything  else  fall  into  place.  the  worst  thing  are  characters  that  are  plotless  (specifically  for  group  rping).  i’m  going  to  be  honest  here:  your  character  has  to  have  something  to  give  other  characters.  whether  it’s  drama,  information,  hidden  secrets,  a  connection…  your  character  has  to  have  something  of  substance.  i’d  actually  prefer  they’re  a  stereotype  then  they’re  just  aimless  and  personality-less.  when  you  have  a  big  overarching  plot  and  path  for  your  character,  it  will  not  only  help  you  plot  with  others,  but  also  help  keep  your  character  moving  and  not  JUST  reliant  on  others  to  pick  up  the  slack

rping  has  always  used  the  yes  and…?  rule.  that  extends  to  your  characters.  instead  of  yes  and…?  think  of  So…  what?  your  character  loves  to  bake.  ok.  so  what?  what  does  that  mean  for  a  thread,  or  another  character?  why  do  we  care?  maybe  we’d  care  if  your  character  bakes  experimental  stuff  and  loves  to  test  it  on  other  muses.  maybe  we’d  care  if  your  character  used  to  be  a  professional  baker  but  hasn’t  baked  lovingly  in  a  while.  maybe  we’d  care  if  your  character  is  a  baker  but  has  lost  their  charm  and  schtick  and  can’t  bake  the  way  they  used  to.  this  stuff  is  important.  don’t  just  stick  arbitrary  things  onto  your  character  and  expect  others  to  care,  especially  when  you  don’t  care  and  have  just  put  it  on  your  character  as  a  random  quirk.  that’s  not  how  people  and  humans  work.  everything  means  everything. 

your  character  doesn’t  have  to  be  likeable  but  they  do  have  to  be  memorable.  evil  nasty  girls,  manipulative  jerks…  yeah  that’s  all  ok!  but  also  you  kinda  have  to  show,  don’t  tell.  you  can’t  just  SAY  your  character  is  the  “head  bitch  in  charge”  and  then  she  never  actually  talks  or  says  anything  or  does  anything.  sorry,  but  in  order  for  me  to  see  your  character,  you  actually  have  to  write  them  or  at  the  very  least  headcanon  them.  otherwise,  they’re  just  a  blob  of  musings  in  the  ether. 

in  order  to  create  a  character  ,  you  have  to  write  your  character  .  i  see  this  a  lot  in  groups  ..  people  love  to  create  a  character  pinterest  ,  graphics  ,  aesthetics  galore  .  its  amazing  !  but  they  don't  actually  write  the  character  and  it  can  close  off  a  lot  of  opportunities  to  plot  because  people  don't  know  who  your  character  really  is  .  i  hate  to  say  it  ,  and  its  not  true  for  everyone  but  :  if  you're  relying  on  aesthetic  ,  then  you  could  be  lacking  in  the  actual  creation  and  writing  aspect  .  plus  ,  people  have  come  here  to  WRITE  with  YOU  .  not  just  see  fan  edits  of  your  character  .  write  .  write  badly  .  write  starters  ,  even  if  they  scare  you  .  write  with  people  you  don't  know  .  write  with  yourself  .  write  with  your  best  friend  .  but  you  have  to  actually  do  the  writing  part  .

[dream-a-dream-for-me]

not edited, just need to cup art donaldson's face while he fucks you. pretty boy would nuzzle his cheek against your palm. the second you begin praising him, he can't hold back the tears in watery eyes, feeling them slip down his face, staining his cheeks. the tip of his nose would turn pink, hearing his little sniffles while he gently bucks his hips up into you.

whenever you tell him he's good, or how much you love him, he hiccups out the most pathetic, sad, soft little "yeah?" while staring up at you desperately, needing your validation to live. pulling your wrist to his mouth, kissing up your arm, whimpering into your skin, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets more tears fall.

[uhhlifeig]

Depth - May 27 - word count: 294 - @wolfstarmicrofic

“Bottoms up,” James said, swallowing the Veritaserum in his glass in a single gulp.

“Why are we doing this again?” Peter asked, raising a brow.

James laughed. “Trust exercise, Pete. Drink up!”

“Fine.”

One everyone was appropriately drugged with the truth serum, James grinned widely. “Alright. This is for a trust exercise, as you probably already know.”

“It's not like you told us that already, Prongs,” Sirius scoffed impatiently.

“Oi, shuddup, Pads. But yeah, we all need to swear on our Marauder’s honor that we won’t tell anyone about this, alright?”

“Sure.”

“Swear it, Padfoot. You too, Moony, Wormtail.”

“We swear we won’t tell anyone,” they all said in unison.

James snapped his fingers twice. “Amazing. Now, what are our biggest fears?”

“Being abandoned,” Sirius said, before his eyes widened and he clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Aw, Padfoot, we wouldn’t leave you,” James reached out a hand to his best friend.

Remus nodded. “I would never, Pads. You know that.”

Peter just reached out a hand in solidarity.

“Thanks, guys. Since I went first, though, Peter, you’re next. What’s your biggest fear?”

“The ocean.” Peter shuddered. “Like, why is it so big? And why does it have so much depth? It's terrifying, thinking of what could be hiding under there.”

“Understandable. I know no one asked, but mine is the Kool-Aid man.”

Sirius stared at him blankly as Remus roared with laughter. “Who?”

“You’ll understand when you’re older, Pads.”

“I’m older than you-”

“Shhhh. What’s your biggest fear, Moony?”

Remus looked conflicted for a second. “Hurting you guys during moons,” he said resignedly after a few seconds.

“You would never, Rem. Moony’s just a big puppy, he’d never hurt us,” Sirius said fiercely. “You’re not a monster.”

“Sure, if you say so.”

[thoughtfulfelony]

ok I'm just gonna elaborate on my opinion that the remake of "Cloudy…with a chance of murder" is The Most Evil And Fucked Up Thing Psych Creators Could Ever Do Because Of The Bike Scene Removal y'all remember the "I've been thinking about getting a car" speech right. But let's take a step back and talk about the bike.

The bike symbolizes Shawn's freedom, independence, and in the "Cloudy…" it is implicitly taken by his own father ( which I'm letting go. for now), and in the end a bunch of people prepared to get it back for Shawn, but who gets there first? Lassiter. And it would be SO easy to play it off by having Lassie say something like "I got you your bike back so you could drive the fuck away from my police station", or "you helped me out before so I feel obligated to repay you, now we're even", but no. Lassie's reaction is genuine embarrassment when people found out he got the bike, because it was purely a nice gesture. A nice gesture for Shawn, whom he "hates". So what I'm saying is. metaphorically. Lassiter gives Shawn back all the independence and freedom, because despite all Shawn's antics, he sees him and accepts him for who he is, with all his bullshit, doesn't fall for his lies and literally embraces the deception and rolls with it for eight more seasons, with occasional Gotta Call Him On His Bullshit To Keep Him In Shape. This scene encapsulates the progress of the dynamic between Lassie and Shawn and it's the foundation for their future relationship, where they know they can trust and rely on each other, despite everything. So again, removing it in the remake was a literal crime against humanity and me specifically because it basically erases part of Lassie's character

[capesch-arts]

Making refs for characters takes a lot outta me but if anyone is wondering if I am considering a Joyverse, well here's how Joy looks like in it. It's set in the same world as my sets of OCs in the tags "Of Gods and Men" skskksd. (Granted might change things up a bit because I have a KiY inspired god and I might need to delete that guy. In sorry Pale King 😔)

[maxislvt]

X-Men Yuri text posts so I don't start arguing illiterate freaks online

[galactichoneybee92]

Not to sound like a boomer on main, because I love my phone- I do. But I really miss the day when I could hang out in public without having to hear everyone else's phones. I don't care if there are babies crying (because babies cry sometimes) or if other people are having conversations (because that's what people come to cafes and such to do) but hearing tinny little phone sounds blasting out loud out of their speakers drives me insane. I'm only in my 30's, why are you making me complain about how things were "back in my day" like I'm 80? Public phone noise is prematurely aging me. Send help.

[feelo-fick]

doodles from varying times :] kicking my feet and giggling. put your hand in my cage youre safe :]

[hascious]

im struggling to balance writing and doodling but im managing nonetheless

also!! i just finished writing myself a little list of events that will happen for the last half of the au, so everythings basically plotted out i just gotta take the time to write it coherently. pray for me

the first half i got to fuck around but now ive gotta take it seriously, so sad </3 but its okay cause once its over i can just doodle silly things about everything and even redraw some of my old concepts

double also... i mightve had an idea a while ago for a small spinoff... i might talk more about it another time...

oh and heres a scuffed reference i made a little while ago for Henry's ability if anyone wanted to know what it looks like as of chapter 6

[gascreates]

seeby s1 dino gaang :)

[choccy-milky]

guys im getting cloras hairclip commissioned and was just sent pics AND IT LOOKS SO GOOOOOOD!!!! 😭😭😭crying pissing shitting throwing up

I FEEL LIKE THE LEONARDO DICAPRIO POINTING AT THE TV MEME.... LIKE HEY!! THATS THE THING!! ITS REAL!!! ill never actually wear it myself but i love collecting cool and sentimental trinkets AAA (thank you to Joinhas on etsy!!) now i just need to buy these official harry potter plushies and my seb and clora merch will be complete

i wanna buy these and swap their scarves💖🥹 (this is what having dogshit selection of official merch does to a person LMFAO....sometimes u just gotta make your own...😔🙏) (due to request, here's clora's hairclip ref, in case anyone else is thinking about commissioning one!)

[uhhlifeig]

Possibility - May 7 - word count: 172 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Sirius had a revelation.

It had come one rainy day after classes had ended and he was curled up on the couch, Remus’s face buried in his chest.

He’d realized two things:

One, he was incredibly, stupidly in love- not that he didn’t know that in the first place, of course- and second, there was a high possibility that one of them wouldn’t make it out of the war that was looming over their heads.

Sirius already knew that he wanted to join the Order with James after their seventh year, and knowing Peter and Remus, they’d follow.

There was a definite risk in joining a war effort, though- especially considering that it was a war effort in which they were going to fight.

There mightn’t be much time left.

Sirius was going to cherish every second of it.

He pressed a kiss to Remus’s hair, watching lovingly as the other raised his head up to look at him.

“What is it, Pads?” his boyfriend asked sleepily.

“Nothing. I love you, alright?”

[panic-flavored]

I accidentally drew a fanfic idea before I've even started the fanfic.... it got a little out of hand

Anyway here's some stobotnik on a government mandated vacation ❤️ 💜 (feat. the Wachowskis trying and failing to have a peaceful honeymoon)

[lupamoe]

It's always "haha ruby loves her brother thats incest"

but never "ruby lacks any emotional love and support in her entire life as a bed-ridden kid and skipped the emotional developmental stages of her childhood so she dosen't know whats normal or disgusting, likewise, this makes her like gorou. it's a sign that she will cling desperately to anyone who cares for her the slightest because ruby's 'love for her doctor' is a coping mechanism formed to forget and shield everything she's been through and because she has no options. this makes her genuinely not know the difference between platonic and romantic love as she has never experienced either in her miserable life."