#control-your-thoughts

[thepersonalwords]

Having no need to judge, control, react, so forgiveness does not even arise.

Jay Woodman

[mochasucculent]

Was looking at refs and since Viktor has two different leg braces I was wondering, do we think he wears them simultaneously?? The refs don't perfectly line up perspective-wise so it's hard to tell but parts of the one he wears during the Hexcore scenes look like they could maybe line up with the brace that he wears over his clothes, but also some parts really don't and look like they'd be super uncomfy. Also HOW does he take these on and off. Experts weigh in

[tiernablue]

What if entering the corrupted NEO body left a remnant of code in Spamton causing him to sometimes turn NEO unexpectedly and in absence of the wires he cant control it (like how he can't control anything else in his life either)

[naffeclipse]

Following SotM, would you ever be interested in writing a DCA x Reader story based in the SotM factory/story? There's so much detail and worldbuilding to the game, I think your writing would really shine working with the setting :D

I love the setting of SotM factory and just how tragic and lonely it all becomes with the Murray family, and I had a thought about a Y/N hired as a sort of secretary/investigator.

Technically, you're only here for the secretary part of the job. Edwin Murray has also instructed that you dig through all employee records, emails, and messages to find out who betrayed him. Sure. Why not. You're getting paid either way, and Edwin seems satisfied that you're not working for "them".

(You feel bad for the guy. He seems stressed and paranoid, and maybe he's dealing with a few things that more qualified professionals should broach than you.)

So, you get to work, day after day, on the slow and high-pitched droning computers before you notice a program on one of the security room monitors. Moon.exe. You boot it up, confused, before you understand that it's some kind of game. At least, that's what it must be, right?

It doesn't stay so. At least, you thought it was a game. The Moon character is no longer confined to the borders of the program but is now right there, popping up in your daily work schedule. You're very nervous about a possible virus that you accidentally downloaded, but the character doesn't seem to do much. His text boxes will bubble up every now and then, and his haunting gaze will occasionally pop over the files you're combing over in all of his low pixilated glory. (Who gave this computer figure sculpted pectorals?)

He has some odd lines, random script you assume, mindlessly being triggered by... you don't know what. None of it ever makes sense, but you like to read it, just for one moment's break from the mundane and often drivel work you've signed up for. Sometimes it's funny. He tells you to go to bed when the clock runs late, and that must be due to time-based triggers, or so you figure.

You think he's just here for... you don't know, moral support? A fun little distraction that someone must have worked on between big projects due at the factory. Who's to say.

One evening, vision blurry from reading a screen in a too dark room after hours of rehashing lines after lines, trying to decide if a disgruntled employee is suspicious or the average working joe for complaining about the boss to a coworker, when you drag the mouse onto The Moon's face and start clicking, and clicking. Out of dire boredom and need for something, anything new, you click and click as if to magically fix that clock and send you straight out of here. Click. Click. Click.

A new dialogue box pops up.

Stop.

You lift your finger off of the left click.

That's new.

So, you click again, and again.

What do you want?

The Moon's face almost seems annoyed in its half-eclipsed expression. You chuckle to yourself.

"Just pressing your buttons," you snicker. "What else can you do?"

Then you immediately look around the messy, file-filled room, as if you would somehow be caught dorkily chatting to yourself, well, a computer program. Good thing it's only you in the building. Occasionally Edwin will burst into the security office as if he might catch you red handed in something you shouldn't be, but you let your work speak for yourself, and that usually calms the man down.

You need to get out and enjoy your weekend, don't you?

You slump back into your chair and stare at the screen. Just you and The Moon.

You click on The Moon's face again. The satisfying sharpness of the mouse click fills you with bubbling amusement at the childish prodding.

The next dialogue box flips into view.

I can press your buttons too.

A loud slam falls behind you, pushing you out of your seat as you whirl back to find the heavy door locked into place. Heart in your throat, you blink as the lights cut out. You're plunged into tar-black blindness, save for the green glow of the computer screen.

Silenced by terror, you crank your head slowly back to your work desk. The computer hums quietly.

The green glow intensifies as The Moon stares at you. He fills the pixels, one eye piercing you like the end of a knife.

Your eyes snap to the next line of dialogue.

Boop!

For several, terrifying heartbeats, you stand and listen to the frantic scarping of your breath. Like prey spotted by a hunter, you dare not move. The darkness is absolute, and the only light is before you; a lighthouse or the last flicker you see before it all plunges into eternal night.

Who did that?

Then the flick of lights buzzing back on spares your half-suspected heart, and you unlock your limbs when the security door slides back open.

You hardly skim the next box of text as the computer returns to where you left off, files and emails crowding the screen side by side, and The Moon's head set in one corner.

You snatch your backpack and book it through the door. That's it. You're off the clock. You don't care if Edwin loses his marbles about you ducking out a few minutes early. You will not stay a moment longer.

It is only on your drive home, twisting your sweaty palms around the steering wheel, that your brain unscrambles enough to recall the final words on the screen.

Nighty night.

[fuzziiwuzzii]

"Now I know what two blood fat cocks slapping hands feel like, so thank you for that."

[khalliys]

How it feels like when you end dnd on a dramatic cliffhanger but the next session is 2 months away.

[thepersonalwords]

Having no need to judge, control, react, so forgiveness does not even arise.

Jay Woodman

[bumblingbabooshka]

Tuvok is not as autistic coded in-narrative compared to what I've seen of Spock or T'Pol where they're othered heavily by those around them and have themes and arcs about struggling/striving to fit in BUT I do think he provides the vital autistic representation of not really angsting about your differences from other people because you're too busy and unaware and then even when you ARE made aware you mostly just think 'glad that's not me'. I think it's vital to have that sort of totally unbothered rep. I love that Tuvok is completely satisfied and proud of being Vulcan, doesn't long to experience emotion or struggle with a desire to express himself in a way his crewmates will understand, to be closer to them. I love that he has a long time and close friend that respects who he is and doesn't try to change him and that how close they are isn't framed as being in spite of his Vulcan nature. I love that being Vulcan isn't framed as a hindrance to him, like a roadblock to living a full and rich life. He has a wife and four kids and is a devoted husband and father. He's getting into gay horror scenarios. Tuvok was born on autism planet and he's thriving.

[soratsuart]

When writing about the normal route in Deltarune I like to ignore the meta aspect of the game and treat the Soul as its own character instead of just the player's self insert because it automatically makes its relationship with Kris way more complex and nuanced. Like. We all know Kris has it bad having their autonomy taken from them and whatever shady thing they got going on with Carol and the Knight, and of course they hate having to let the Soul possess them even if they need it, but many people have pointed out that the lack of autonomy is mutual and it becomes much more interesting the second the Soul becomes a person itself and not a player that objectively isn't so affected since, you know, we are real people in the real world- Imagine this: You are a being that just recently began to exist. A mysterious voice starts talking to you and offers you a life. They offer you an existence, they help you make a body of your own that you pour all your efforts into making perfect. You are excited to begin your life and explore the world... only to have it all taken from you at the last second. Suddenly you are in a body, yes, but it's not YOUR body, it's someone else's, with their own life and personality and they don't appreciate you being here as much as you. Now you have to pretend to be this other person, because what else are you supposed to do? But it's hard, because you don't have all the memories everyone else keeps referencing and you are painfully aware you keep acting out of character, the other conscious person inside the body makes sure you are aware.

Then you get thrown into a whole adventure and become the hero of a prophecy, with new people who don't really know the body you are inhabiting so you can be more yourself. You make friends, you both make friends and it's fun! But there is a constant reminder that no matter what, you both are screwd up. The original person loves these friends too, but they don't really know them all that well because it's always you at the wheel. You love your friends, but they don't know you because you have always only ever interacted with them behind as Kris.

You want to help. You want to be useful. You don't like hurting Kris, but you also can't help resenting them as much as they resent you because everything you have is really only theirs, and they hate you because everything they have is being taken by you. They have some hidden agenda going on and seem to be working with your enemies. You want to trust them but neither of you can or are willing to communicate. If you ever give up, the world ends. You are three days old.

[missazurerose]

Comment or reblog with specific classes since there's way too many for one poll. Of course plenty of people level everything but for the lore of it, what do you consider the main one?

If you can't narrow it down to 1, how did you get to those 2+ classes? A reaper who discovered a love of song and became a bard? A botanist on a revenge quest after losing their family? A culinarian who couldn't find what they needed on the market and said fine I'll get it myself?

Optional prompts to think about: Did they grow up learning that class? Fresh in it in MSQ? What do they think of their guild, past or current? Are the class quests even part of your story? If their primary class is a newer one, do they feel bad about giving up their old primary?

[trashmaglc]

✰ Older boyfriend stiles ʚ♡ɞ

playıng: [too sweet] - [hozıer]

⇄ ◃◃ || ▹▹ ↻

[sunlight-shunlight]

i really wish flemythal got more of... anything, really, in dragon age before it croaked, bc i was genuinely so stoked to see her as a legit antagonist after all the buildup. give kate mulgrew some MONOLOGUES and MENACING LINES!! i wanted to see her go ham and wreak havoc. betray solas right back! kill elgar'nan with hammers! gaslight gatekeep girlboss!!

[lo-sulci]

Wielding the sword that promises my victory, I carve my way to the life I deserve! MAID Corporation, 3rd generation! Delta Daggersmith! I'll captivate you until the very end!~ ☆

inspired by the amazing (and two time award winning actual play podcast that YOU should listen to) @eidolonplaytest and drawn by the unparalleled @chimeracauldron, it's my maidsona! who at least appearance-wise is just me :Þ

[genderfluid-jew]

I think one of the easiest ways for me to mistrust a book and all it’s saying is to see how wrong it gets history about Jews.

This came about because I’m reading a book on indigenous activism and theory and it’s really good!

Too bad I can’t trust anything about it because I’m their little “history of colonialism” section they went “the three largest religions of the world-Christianity, Islam, and Judaism (collectively called the Abrahamic religions”.

Bestie. Jews are .2% of the global population. If you’d done a basic google search it would’ve told you the largest religious groups are Christianity, Islam, irreligion, Hinduism, and Buddhism, each of which have over 5% of the global population as adherents. It takes about five seconds to check that and see if you’re being accurate.

If your book is trying to be a reputable source of information and you can’t even put 5 seconds of effort into basic factual double-checking, you are not worthy of my trust about anything else you say.

[buff-muffin]

I remember seeing this guy talk about raising his sons and it kind of made me think of a modern AU Dadan and how I think she would also use one of the methods this guy mentioned. I don't remember the guy who posted or how long ago it was before it resurfaced in my brain, but essentially. he knew his boys needed to rough house, get out the energy of being well behaved all day so he bough a few gym mats and punching dummy's and threw these kids (lightly) around. Which, in of its self, is an amazing thing to give a small boy? a place to be rough and tumble and loud, an outlet for the exhaustion of the day and a place where they could actually practice their strength.

Now the ASL brothers are by no means as gentle and really they're fighting with teeth and claws regardless. but I love the mental image of like. After hours of these boys fighting every second of the day. who gets the first bath, who gets the bigger sandwich, who has to sit middle in the car, who gets the good snack or the last serving or the shower or the top bunk. or whatever other reason they decide to have a BRAWL IN THE FUCKING LIVING ROOM. Dadan finally gave in. going round back of an gymnasium she manages to score some old worn out tumble mats. drags them out to the shed and says "this is where you fight. not in the bedroom. not in my kitchen. not at school. here. and the only rule is you cant cause enough physical injury to have CPS called in my ass again."

now when an adult gives you a round about way to let you beat your siblings ass? you're gonna take it. and the collection grew, second hand boxing gloves, pool noodles cardboard shields and the dangerous stay piece of bamboo. they had their battle arena and would run home to settle a fight from hours before. And also gave Dadan a reason to kick them out of the actual fucking house when they got too rowdy over mario kart.

Of course they still got hurt. punches too hard, slamming into the concrete, a lost tooth a broken limb. But I truly think those memories of running to the shed to fight over who got the last slice of dessert at 9pm must be some of those boys favourites. Dadan considered it a slightly duller head ache

[cassandra-silver]

Ages ago, I promised a sequel to my Ruthlessness sketches with my new Poseidon design, and well... See, I had a very specific vision for this, my beloved 🫶 favorite song in the whole entire musical. And I guess I was finally brave en- I mean, found the time to bring it to life. Enjoy 🙈🌊🔱

@glisten-inthedark look at what I've done now