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#SORRY THIS IS SKETCHY I NEEDED TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM. I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS JERKWAD
cappycodeart · 7 months
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"The dead one! Yeah I haven't thought about her in a long time!"
A little theory I've had about Winter King's original motives based on his heartless comment about Betty and Ice King's original motives for kidnapping princesses in the first place...... clearly she gave off Bad Ex Vibes…
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apomaro-mellow · 1 year
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Scoops Troop dnd post
When Steve started dating Eddie, he was sure that meant everything would be out in the open. What secrets did they have left after that? Eddie already knew about the monsters and the Upside Down. Now he knew that Steve liked guys and was attracted to him specifically. There wasn’t much after all that.
“So you’re gonna tell your boyfriend about your secret hobby too?”, Erica asked one day when he picked her up from school.
“Dammit.”
Because that was a secret privy to only three other people. After the entire ordeal with the Russians in the mall, Dustin had officially sucked them into Dungeons and Dragons. First Erica, and then, somehow he and Robin. Steve still wasn’t sure if the drugs had been entirely out of his system then.
But the fact remained. Steve Harrington played DnD. And he did so with a band geek, a known nerd, and a middle schooler. So sue him if he wanted to keep that on the down low. Even as he came around to his feelings for Eddie, he didn’t want to bring it up. If Eddie knew, one of two things would happen. One, he’d accept Steve into nerdom with only the minimal amount of smugness and then invite him to the Hellfire campaigns. The problem with that was that Steve liked the little low stakes campaigns he did with Dustin, Erica, and Robin. He didn’t have to impress his expert boyfriend or the club members who would be scrutinizing every move he made. Or Mike. Not dealing with Mike was also a plus.
Or two, Eddie would absolutely be offended that Steve kept this from him and would rather have a little girl for his DM. Eddie had come to respect Erica’s style of play and rebellious attitude, but only when it wasn’t directed at him.
The more Steve thought about it, the more he convinced himself it was better Eddie didn’t know. It helped that never in a million years did Eddie think he’d be into it. Certainly not enough to sneak off and do it.
But while Eddie would never suspect a tabletop game, he would come to suspect other things.
When Steve gave sketchy answers about where he was going or where he’d been. When he woke up early after a night spent at Eddie’s and said he absolutely had to go. Something to do with his parents. But later on Nancy had confirmed that said parents were still out of town.
Eddie didn’t like assuming. But this whole relationship thing was still new. And he knew this type was new for Steve too. So could he be judged for having some suspicions?
Things came to a head when Steve called, saying he was going to be late for their date.
“Are you still at home?”, Eddie had asked. “Primping takin’ you that long, Stevie?”
“Haha, funny. But actually, Iiiii’m helping Dustin with his homework. So it’s gonna be at least another....”, he paused, like he was waiting for something. “Another half hour. Sorry, babe.”
“No need for apologies. Academics first, that’s what I always say.” Eddie commended how even his voice was. It wasn’t until the call ended that he began gesturing wildly and ranting while searching for his keys.
Helping Dustin with homework?! He couldn’t come up with a better excuse than that?! Steve was fucking someone behind his back and he was going to find out who.
“Helping me with my homework? Really Steve?”, Dustin derided from the kitchen table.
“I know, it was stupid. So let’s finish this up before he gets suspicious.”
Erica snorted. “If you roll for that perception, you’re at a loss.”
“Yeah, you’d think you’dve gotten better at lying at this point”, Robin added on.
“Game is continuing now. You guys have already made me late”, Steve said as he sat down.
They started again and even though they meant to close it, it kept going on and on until the sound of wheels parking was heard. Steve went to the front window and cussed under his breath.
“It’s Eddie!”, he hissed.
The rest of them did a mad dash to clean up the table while making the least noise possible. Steve put on his best ‘innocent face’ when he heard the pounding of the front door.
“Eddie! I thought I was coming to pick you up? Couldn’t be patient for me, huh?”
“Cut the bullcrap, Harrington. Where are they?”, Eddie asked.
“They? They who?”, Steve asked as his boyfriend pushed his way into the house.
“Whoever it is you’ve got here. Did you think I was an idiot?”
“No, Eddie listen. I-”
“Was it funny? Pulling the wool over my eyes for this long?”
“Eddie this wasn’t about tricking you. This was about, just, you know, blowing off some steam.”
For a moment, Eddie didn’t speak, just made faces and gestures as he tried to process this. “Is it Nancy? Huh? Or Jonathan? Or is it someone you pulled off the street?”
Steve raised a brow. “Nancy wouldn’t really go for it, I don’t think. And Jonathan...I don’t really know. I never thought about it.”
“It’s typically not the kind of thing you think about Steve.”
“So you’ve never thought of doing something like this with Wayne?”
“WITH WAYNE?!?”
There was the sound of movement in the kitchen. A breath and a clattering. Eddie was moving before Steve could speak, determined to find the hussy, only to nearly trip on some dice and come face to face with the three hideaways under the table.
Moving slowly, Eddie picked up the dice and examined it. Then his eyes went over to the notes that hadn’t been moved from the table. Then he slowly turned towards Steve.
“It appears I’ve made an ass of myself.”
“Huh?”
“But I’m not the only one. Because while I thought you were cheating on me, it turns out you were doing something even more scandalous.”
“Eddie I-wait, you thought I was cheating on you?!”
“Can we get from under the table now that the jig is up?”, Erica complained.
The three of them removed themselves with a groan while Eddie was looking at his boyfriend with new eyes.
“You play?”
Steve nodded.
“And you kept it from me?”
Steve nodded again.
“I think I made the right assumptions, given the information I had”, Eddie said. “Because you were in fact cheating on me. Just not sexually.”
“Eddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“You can’t just be mad at him”, Dustin said. “We kept it from you too.”
Robin balked. “Speak for yourself. I’ve been saying the whole time that Eddie should know.”
“I think all can be forgiven one one condition”, Eddie said, holding up his index finger. “And that is that my baby comes to Hellfire for an entire month.”
Steve let out a small breath of relief. That wasn’t so bad. Barely even a punishment really. But then Eddie sauntered over to him and whispered into his ear.
“And you’ll be in my lap the whole time.”
Because even if Eddie had gotten the wrong notion, it wasn’t a bad idea to remind Steve who he belonged to.
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aspitefulwriter · 8 months
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OUT OF TOUCH [Ch. 4]
(Poe Dameron x AFAB!reader)
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warnings: a shove that can be considered physical abuse? i try to clear up that it’s not okay though. won’t happen again 🫡 light mention of SA because people listen to rumors
author’s note: i usually post on ao3 first!! also, so sorry about this wait. i started my first week of classes and i’m a stem senior….it’s rough out there y’all lol
word count: ~4.7k (i’m apparently incapable of writing less)
Series Masterlist
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Something must be rooting for you.
It seemed with each challenge you faced where certain death was imminent, you slid by with hardly a scratch on your body.
Common sense tells you that ordinary humans escaping from a locked down militia base with Kylo Ren on board should not leave alive, yet you and Denel were able to bolt into hyperspace without incident.
Common sense also tells you that flying in an Order-affiliated cargo jet that was reported stolen should not be easily sold off after landing on Corellia. You ignored the coincidences at first, but it was getting harder to ignore.
The blankets and clothes lining the blackmarket you were in served as red flags, waving in the breeze as you and Denel followed a sketchy lead to a secret Resistance rendezvous where new recruits were loading onto transport to their base, the two of you hardly being asked questions to verify your intentions. From that point, your alert system had been on overdrive, allowing you to catch the occasional nervous glances sent your way as they fidgeted.
Perhaps coincidences aren’t really coincidences, you think to yourself, keeping your eyes trained on the people that fill the craft and the thoughts to yourself. Though, after landing on D’Qar the few suspicions you had were answered as Leia Organa makes her way over to you now. However, one was still left unanswered.
“How did you know?” Denel looks between the two of you questioningly.
She gives you a sly smile, one side of her lips going higher than the other, “It’s my job to know.”
You repress a scowl, displeased she brushed off your question,“Let me rephrase…How long did you know?”
“I would guess just as soon as you entered hyperdrive.” Given she’s likely to brush your question of ‘how’ off again, you breathe out a defeated sigh and relax the tenseness that’s been building since the blackmarket back on Corellia.
“Well, then you must have some sort of plan for us. What can we do to help?”
She gives a close-lipped smile that seems genuine, her eyes glowing with mischief, “Before we get to any of my plans, we have to make sure we’re on the same page. Though I’m sure I won’t be disappointed— I’ve heard great stories about you.” Your eyebrows pull together in questioning, but she doesn’t acknowledge it as she motions to two people who had been standing a few steps behind her since she first stepped into the unloading zone.
“We’ll have to keep our eyes on you two for a few days,” You look between the two of them before looking at Denel to see his reaction where he—much to your surprise—doesn’t show much.
“This is Tantin and Venon. They’ll be your guards.” She motions at each one, signaling their respective name. You drag your eyes back to them and appraise them.
Upon your assessment, you see Tantin looks less than happy to be there— you’d say even bordering on disgust; on the other hand, Venon stands closed off and emotionless beside him. Both of them hold a change of clothes that resemble the same shade of beige.
“Before room placement I’ll need you two to change under supervision and go through a quick search,” Denel scoffs out, and when he does Leia’s eyes stick to him, “There’s no such thing as too safe and we have many lives to protect. You understand, yes?”
Denel speaks up, “You just said that you heard great stories about her, why breach our privacy like that?” You look over at him with a tight look like a parent would give their child, ridiculing him for the ridiculous question. You look away from him with a tsk when he ignores you. Obviously they need to search the First Order defects, you prideful idiot.
“It’s like you said, there are too many lives at stake. We understand.” You say, glancing back at Denel whose nostrils flare in disdain as he still keeps his gaze from yours.
“I’m glad. I’ll see the two of you again when you get settled. We’re happy to have you here.” Giving a single nod with a smile, she walks from the zone that is now empty, spare your duo and the guards. Tantin releases a displeased hum and motions for you to follow, then leading you to a bland room that only holds a table.
“One at a time, we don’t need you conspiring.” Venon says, and at that Denel stalks forward to go first.
Tantin holds the clothes he has out, which must be meant for Denel and he snags them, muttering under his breath.
“Like we have anywhere else to go.”
As you wait for your turn, you lean on the wall and study the guards that are now silently murmuring between themselves. You strain to listen in, letting your nosiness overpower your want to be quickly accepted. Reasonably you know that being so obvious won’t score you any points on the likeability scale…but they’re not doing too hot on yours either.
Giving up, you put your attention elsewhere, looking up and down the long and narrow walls of the hall you’re in. It’s empty, which is a little bizarre given how many people seemed to be around when you landed, but you’re already ahead of the game today in ignoring things so might as well continue it.
You’re snapped back into this dimension when the door next to you opens and Denel shifts out of the room, the guards stopping their whispers. You push yourself off of the wall, getting your clothes that are outstretched from Venon’s single hand and letting the door close behind you. While changing you let your mind wander to the ineptitude of your guards, especially their inability to listen to make sure the people they think are spies aren’t doing anything suspicious. Their options for people really must be short…it makes you wonder how they’ve stood up to the power of the Order this long.
The thought amuses you, and you pick up your pile of old clothes with a ghost of a smile that promptly gets more pronounced when you see Denel being patted down, his heated glare transfixed on you. He rolls his eyes, turning his head to look away from you. Honestly, you can’t wait for what choice words he’ll use with you later.
When Venon sees you’re out, she motions for you to get up on the wall. You throw the clothes in your hand to Denel’s pile and spread your hands up on the wall, situating your body so that she can pat you down.
“This good for you?”
Without responding, she starts to slide her hands across you in standard procedure. When she gets to check between your buttcrack you jump slightly.
“At least take me out to dinner first.” She scoffs as Denel chokes back a laugh, covering his mouth now that he’s off of the wall.
“It’s protocol,” she says, voice monotone.
“If that’s the excuse you wanna use…” you mumble.
Once both of you were cleared, you follow your guards down the hallway to what must be the residence hall since more people are starting to fill the previously empty space.
You look over to Denel, who’s combing his eyes across the people in the hall, some that aren’t human, “You alright?”
Snapping his eyes over to you, he gives you a pursed smile, “Being patted down wasn’t all that great, but it was better than I thought I’d be.” Your eyebrows pull together in question.
“I thought we’d have to strip down in front of them and have them check us that way.” He shudders, an exaggerated grimace on his face that you laugh at, causing your guards to spare glances back at you two.
“I think if they had to do that, Tantin might have thrown up. Did you see the look he was giving us when he was behind Leia?” He nods, joining your laughing, but he goes silent for a second.
“Is that why you didn’t say anything about the search?”
You shrug at his question, “I thought they’d strip us too, but it’s either this or Ren. Not only that, but they think we’re spies.” Mulling over your words, he lightly rubs at his neck as his eyes stare off to somewhere behind you.
“Yeah…” At that, your conversation lulls and you turn your attention back to the guards as they stop in front of a door.
Venon points at Denel with her index finger, “You,” She pauses, pointing back at the room with her thumb, “This’ll be your room. Do whatever you want, but just know that Tantin’s following your every move.”
Denel gives you a sparing glance before he walks into his room, Tantin following closely behind him.
When the door shuts, Venon motions for you to follow her, “Let’s go.”
It’s a silent walk, and it seems with each step Venon’s body strings up a little tighter–almost like spring being crushed. You look over at her, becoming increasingly aware of her body language. Is she going to say anything? It’s like she’s legitimately coiling within herself.
When she abruptly stops, she glares at you and smashes the panel next to her, opening the door. Just as you’re about to step through the door, partially tickled at her collapsing display of faux emotionlessness, her spring is finally released.
“I don’t know why we have to waste our resources on you,” she growls out, “I don’t know what they see in you.” Biting back a laugh at the familiarity of the sentence, your face remains light and amused as you look at her.
“Are you saying I should care what you think?” You ask, moving to lean against the doorway with your arms crossed.
She looks a little confused by your response, seemingly anticipating something else before she sets back into her (what you hope isn’t) best intimidating glare.
“My word carries a lot of weight regarding your position in this organization, you really want to see where not caring will take you?”
“Is that what you’re going with? A threat?”
“It seems like it’s needed, yes.”
You don’t hold back the laugh this time, “Okay, well earlier you said you don’t know what they see in me,” You finger quote the ‘they,’ “So that leads me to believe someone else’s words carry a lot more weight than yours do.” She looks at you in surprise at your rebuttal, her face then pulling into a scowl.
“So I’m not going to be concerned what my guard…Vee something…thinks about me. Much less if she has to fall into childish threats because she doesn’t agree with others’ decisions.” You uncross your arms and push off the wall, making your way into your new room.
“I’m going to relax now,” You pause in the doorway, keeping eye contact, “Since running away from the First Order doesn’t give you time for much rest.” You try to emphasize that you’re no longer affiliated with the group before you go through the door the rest of the way and walk to the bed, falling down with a big sigh.
You look at the open door, half expecting to see Venon walk through, but she never does.
****
Later that day, you’re sat at a table with Denel and the guards in the cafeteria, one of them being the replacement for Venon after she had stepped down from her post following your conversation. From the time he introduced himself, you knew you’d like him a little better than the last one. He actually seemed to keep everything to himself.
As you pick at your food in disinterest, tuned out from Denel chatting with the guards, you feel eyes on you and look up to find none other than Poe Dameron absentmindedly staring as the people at his table start following his line of sight. You let your face drop into a scowl, not wanting to have any more drama surrounding your arrival that having him staring would surely bring. You take your eyes off of him but can’t help but to glance back.
Just as you do, he looks away blinking as his eyes refocus on the group he sits with, playing off his silence as his table hangs onto every word. You hum to yourself as you look away again, a revelation falling on you. It seems like everywhere he goes there’s a crowd of people that vie for his attention.
It kind of hurts your ego that you fell for the charm too by letting him go more than he deserved…but that’s water under the bridge, especially if you’re sitting at this table right now because of him. Taking a sip from your cup, you look at your group as you continue thinking about your situation. You imagine he probably said something to the General, which you’re more than grateful for.
A smile starts to build on your lips as you set your cup down and glance up at him. The game of trades going between you doesn’t look like it’ll be stopping anytime soon.
Your eyes catch each other before his shoulder is tapped and it’s ripped away, the person whispering in his ear before he quickly gets up, excuses himself, and vanishes from the room.
Coming back to the land of the living, you hear a snap by your head and turn to look at the source, seeing Denel and the other two looking at you in confusion.
“Yeah?”
“I was asking you if you wanted to check out the hangars and see what they have here?”
“Sure, yeah. I was done anyway,” You pick up the barely touched plate as you stand up, Denel and the others mirroring you as you get ready to leave.
*****
“You wanted to see me, General?”
Poe stands at parade rest in front of Leia’s desk, waiting for her to talk, her back facing him as she looks at the screens around her.
“Ever since our new arrivals this morning we’ve started to get some varying unrest around the base.” She turns to look at him and matches his posture. His eyebrows pull together at her words.
“Well we knew that people really wouldn’t like the idea at first, but if they just saw what I saw then they would come around.”
She nods appreciatively, eyes shifting to the datapad that just dinged with an alert before looking back at him, pausing.
“Which is why I called you in here, Poe.”
“Oh?” He relaxes his posture at the use of his first name, knowing the conversation will be a little less professional.
She continues, “Your commander’s guard just stepped down after what she says was an altercation that got out of control.” He brings his hand up to absentmindedly rub at his jaw, gazing off and thinking about how you didn’t look hurt in the cafeteria…in fact you looked happier than he’d ever seen you.
“I want you to be the replacement.” His eyes snap to her, letting out a disbelieving chortle as he’s taken from his thoughts.
“Wait—me? I don’t exactly have the time for guard duty. Not to mention, she already has a guard?” She waves him off, turning back around to the screens.
“You’re both pilots, she’s familiar with you, and other than me you are much more open to the change than anyone else. I can hardly think of a better reason to put you together.”
He hums, acknowledging her reasons, “Guess I don’t have a choice then?”
She looks back at him, a sly smile on her face that he reciprocates. What has he just been wrapped into?
****
Whispers and blurry images circle around your head, soft a feminine voice telling you to hide, the sound of ships landing, beams of red light. And then nothing but a black void. It surrounds you, choking you with the never ending emptiness. It felt still…too still.
You look down at yourself as you start to feel things touching you, your fingers dancing on the long, sheer gray dress that flows down your form into the ankle-deep water your bare feet stand in.
“What?” You mumble to yourself in confusion.
Silence is the only thing that responds to you.
Moments later, that’s torn away as the silence is replaced by a piercing scream that quakes through your head, causing your vision to blur as you crumble to the ground and clench your hands over your head. You’re unaware you’re screaming too until you’re pulled awake by it, sweat drenching your body as you heave, looking to your guard that scrambles awake from the sleep he was catching on the couch.
He gives you a panicked look, “Wha- Are you okay?”
Letting out a shaking breath, you nod, “Nightmare.” He nods, a concerned look still in his eye as he settles back on the couch, keeping his eyes on you. You fall back into your pillows, turning your head to glance at the clock. It was still a few hours until you were meant to get up, but you highly doubt you’ll be able to fall asleep after that.
What was it? Never in your life had you had such a planet-shattering dream. In fact, you pride yourself on the ability of dreamless sleep. Others would complain about how they would keep them up and because you were unable to empathize, you’d punish them when they would make a mistake due to the lack of rest. Now you regret ever doing it (kind of).
The dream just felt so…real. The scream splintered your head like lightning on a tree; you could still feel the pulses in your head, a headache building with every heartbeat. You roll to your side and glance at your guard briefly (you couldn’t remember his name), seeing that he fell back asleep. You breathe out from your nose, closing your eyes to try and chase the few extra hours like him.
However, you pass the rest of the hours left like that, sleep not coming to you given your mind stays stumped on the meaning of the dream and specifically why now?
It was still stuck in your mind as you made your way to the cafeteria, even while grabbing your rations and sitting at the table you designated as yours. You’ve so far said nothing to your guard or Denel, neither bringing up your soured mood; the guard didn’t even bring up last night after you had walked from the refresher this morning, eyebags settled under your eyes.
Taking a glance at the table Poe likes to frequent, you see he’s missing and your mood sours a little more.
Throughout the day that trend continued.
The first time you heard it, you were tuned out and walking back to your room after breakfast, hoping to catch a quick nap before one of your mandatory assessments.
“I heard General Organa turned a blind eye because Dameron has a real close relationship with her,” You tuned into the conversation at the mention of Poe and looked at the two casually posted in the hallway, the one who just spoke lightly hitting their friend in the ribs with their elbow.
“Who knew the clones were so easy?” The other said, and they both snickered as they looked at you, not expecting you to be looking back. At that they guiltily look away, but you’ve already stopped in your tracks, your guard nearly slamming into you.
“You wanna repeat that back to me?” Heavy harshness laced into your voice.
Their eyes widened and they walked away slowly, words stumbling on each other, “I–We–it was just a rumor, it’s probably not true.”
Your eyebrows pulled together, “Probably?” Before you could continue, they were nearly to the corner of the hallway in the blink of an eye, and just as you stepped off to chase them, your guard gripped your arm, shaking his head. You tsked, yanking your arm from his hold and continued your way to your room.
The next time, you were at your mechanical assessment, bent over a droid’s transportation system that had been said to be faulty. After your first hour there, you were reminded you’re glad that you can’t speak binary–however, you could speak basic. Regrettable, given when people spoke in it, it tended to light your fuse.
It was currently one of those times. 34 minutes (yes you were counting) had passed since a pilot started loudly discussing you with her mechanic, the two of them underneath her X-wing repairing Maker-knows-what since they’re paying you more attention than it. You look up to your guard and see that he’s absentmindedly picking at his nails, seemingly not tuning into the conversation. What is with this place?
“And Fara said he had sex with her. I mean..we all know how he is, but the First Order girl? She had to have done something to him.” The pilot lets out a disgusted noise and you glance up at them from your position, rolling your eyes.
“There’s no telling what was on that planet. One of my buddies got some weird dust out of the cockpit and ran it through the spectrometer. It couldn’t even register it!” The mechanic exclaimed as the pilot gasped.
“Maker, she probably took advantage of him. That poor guy.” They let out disappointed sighs and you slam your hands to the table, the small wrench you were holding clattering against the metal as you storm out of the hangar you were in, droid and guard yelling after you. They really want to imply you took advantage of Poe? If anything, they should be counting their lucky stars that you didn’t take advantage of your crew arriving first while he was asleep. Then they wouldn’t have their precious golden boy sitting alive in his nice little X-wing with his nice little squad on his nice little base.
As you're about to step off the tarmac to escape into solitude on a hill somewhere, you find an entire squadron of pilots appraising you with malice, snickering amongst themselves. That’s when your last sliver of good will blows away with the wind that whips around your body from the jets that land meters away from where the squadron stands.
You quickly change your destination, subbing the distant hill for the hangar that Poe’s squadron uses, where they are all so conveniently climbing from their ships after their training session, the droids not yet docking them.
The few who see you stare at you in curious wonder as you make a bee-line to Poe. Seeing as half his squadron is staring behind him, he goes to turn around but is shoved forward with a good amount of force, a noise escaping his mouth as he stumbles to right himself.
“What are you telling people?!” You yell, anger coursing through your veins, and Poe whips around to face you, bewilderment etched onto his face.
“What are you even talking about?!” He yells back, exasperatingly throwing his hands in the air.
“Just in the past few hours, I’ve been subjected to nothing but hatred and petty gossip about how I’ve taken advantage of you or gotten implicative stares like they know something’s happened between us.” You briefly pause, watching his expressions, “It’s tiring having left the undying pettiness of the Order just to come here and get it from the Resistance. Had I known it would be like this, the thought of coming here wouldn’t have even crossed my mind,” You cover your face with your hands, tears of anger threatening to fall from your eyes, “I can’t believe I thought it would be better he–”
“Hey hey hey,” Poe interrupts you, hand moving to touch your shoulder apprehensively, “I’m so sorry that’s happening to you, I have no idea where it came from.” You take a deep breath at his words, trying to stabilize yourself from the manic rant you were falling into and willing the tears to suck back up into your eyes. Once they do, you let your hands fall to your side.
“Listen, I’ll ask around and try to clear it up, okay? Does that sound good?” You nod, adjusting the clothes on your body that start to feel like they’re suffocating you as you become hyper aware of all the eyes on the pair of you.
Your eyes shift from his, cheeks burning, “Sorry...about the push. That was really out of line.”
He steps his right foot out, the hip popping out in turn as he then perches a hand on his waist and cocks his head. A curl falls into his face, an intrusive thought that tells you to push it back into the rest of his curls surfacing to the front of your thoughts. It kind of takes you aback, burning your cheeks even hotter.
“I’m glad you see the forceful shove was out of line,” he lets out a light laugh, “Hopefully you don’t do it again.”
You start to back away slowly, eyebrows pulling together sympathetically, “I’m super sorry, it won’t happen again,” You do an ‘X’ over your heart, “Promise.” He gives you a pursed smile in acknowledgement, which makes you sharply turn around and quickly race to make your way to your guard that stands at the entrance of the hangar.
Poe watches as you leave, the guard that temporarily takes his place saying a few choice words that you ignore before you both disappear around the corner. He sighs as he rights his position and turns around. When he does, his squadron and other onlookers snap into action, an awkward cough escaping a few of them as they pretend they didn’t stop everything to listen in. Snap lets out a whistle before he starts to shed out of his gear and Poe glances at him with a deadpan look.
“You’ve got a lot to handle there, Dameron.”
“Pftt, I learned my lesson on Coruscant,” he says, pulling off the rest of the gear, while Snap chuckles.
Even though that was Snap’s first meeting with you, he already saw how much of a handful you are. The thought makes Poe laugh when he finally takes up his guard position the next morning and you sheepishly step from your door holding a caf, offering it to him.
He takes it from you and studies your face, the corner of his lip upturned, “When did you get this?”
He watches as your tenseness washes away.
“A spy never tells their secrets,” You wink, lips curling into a grin to match the one that Poe has before it’s wiped from his face when your sentence registers.
“One, that’s not funny. And two, I’m so happy to know our internal defenses are so strong that a spy can safely stay here,” he says sarcastically, taking the cup of caf and bringing it to his lips and taking a sip.
Giving you an incredulous look, he glances between you and the cup, “How’d you know the way I like my caf?”
You go to respond, but he interrupts you, “Wait let me guess—a spy never tells their secret.” The laugh you give him takes him aback, making his cheeks start to burn at how heart-stopping it is (much to his dismay).
“I’m teaching you well, Dameron,” the door closes after you retreat back into your room, the fire still burning brightly on his cheeks as your laugh echoes in his head. He quickly blinks to bring himself back to the ground, subconsciously letting the corner of his mouth upturn as he thinks just how well that sentence fits with him. Because yes, while it is really mildly distressing, he finds that you’re steadily teaching him.
Like right now as he sips the drink in his hand, he learns he’s never had good caf until now because you gave it to him with a smile. He’s learning he likes to watch the way your expressions change faster than a switch based on the words of who you’re listening to.
And his favorite lesson is the one that never ends; it’s the one where each interaction with you leaves an imprint on his mind, your face and your voice gluing themselves into every available crevice. Yeah…you’re definitely teaching him well.
He brings the cup of caf to his lips, taking a sip and savoring the taste as it slides down his throat.
Oh man this is going to be hard.
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a/n:
they are reunited <3
can i just say i was cackling during the pat down scene? like yeah..it may not fit with reader…but i was delirious when i wrote it and just decided to keep it in because it’s the funniest shit ever.
also side note, i was writing between classes one day and an acquaintance sat next to me and started talking to me. totally forgot to spam click out of everything and i’m pretty sure they saw my star wars research 😃👍🏻 (ha ha i hope they don’t perceive me)
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utilitycaster · 1 year
Text
How to actually get people to try TTRPGs other than D&D
I've probably said most of this stuff separately, but here it is all together. This was originally even longer, and way more satirical, but honestly, while it was very funny, I think just a straight shot is what's called for.
The long "in defense of D&D" toll you must pay first as it's crucial to understand why so many efforts fail:
The popularity is a feature.
Yes, there is a reason it has the name recognition it does, and yes, that reason is capitalism; this post explains that far better than I ever could. You do need to go about this assuming that you are not going to personally end capitalism tomorrow, and even if you did, more people would be familiar with D&D than any other TTRPG, and 5e would have a number of materials geared specifically towards new players. Pretending this isn't the case will not help you.
Switching TTRPGs, particularly to anything that vaguely resembles D&D in genre, theme, and character creation, requires obtaining materials, finding a group (possibly even a GM, and those are thin on the ground), and learning a new system. This takes significant time, effort, and possibly money. That's often ignored. More importantly, people will have emotional attachments to the games they like. I've found that often, the "hook" in posts encouraging people to leave D&D is when WoTC does something sketchy. However, as a lot of players and creators in the industry pointed out recently, if someone already owns all the D&D content they need, they can sustain a boycott and have no need to switch; and what's more, when someone is considering other games not to better meet their gameplay needs or to expand their horizons, but because they feel cheated, the last person they want to hear from is a gleefully circling vulture.
So if you're reading this and saying "well then, where's my opportunity? when do I pounce?" the answer is "if you are thinking of introducing people to new games as an opportunity to pounce and poach rather than a warm welcome, I feel incredibly sorry for you, and you will probably alienate more people than you attract."
Anyway, onto the actual mechanical merits of D&D. It is a flexible system. It is not infinitely flexible - it has many limitations - but a lot of other systems are even narrower in scope, not broader. D&D can be rules-heavy, but RP is largely open and, barring charm spells, I control my PC, which I vastly prefer to games that will tell me how my character feels. It accommodates a wide range of play styles, from very loose to very crunchy.
D&D hits on a particular balance of strict, though often streamlined mechanical rules for combat and abilities, and wide-open freedom for character personality and agency, which is very appealing to many. In fact, a common complaint I've seen from D&D players about other systems is that they are rigid and overcomplicated in the areas where they want more freedom and ease, and too loose in the places where they want structure. This doesn't mean those systems are wrong or bad! It does however mean that they are not a natural fit for people who genuinely enjoy D&D as a system.
Also, just to get it out of the way: I (and a lot of D&D players I know):
strongly dislike games that regularly just tell you how your character feels, mechanically
Feel that D&D handles mixed successes in a way that feels rewarding for the player and which moves forth the narrative
Feel that D&D has, in the base PHB form, a manageable (ie, non-overwhelming) number of classes/subclasses and races such that you can start people off simple and then those with experience can explore other resources.
In other words: games with mechanics that regularly tell you what your character's emotions are instead of letting you choose through open RP? Games where nearly every success comes with a serious consequence? The 20+ classes of Pathfinder before you even get into archetypes? Not always a selling point! In fact, often a drawback for people coming from D&D! which brings me to the first real point:
Listen to the person you’re trying to convince before you recommend anything.
This doesn't apply if you're making a "hey! this game is cool!" post in general, provided you're actually focusing on said game's own merits, but if you're trying to interact with an individual or a group, you have to personalize it.
First, think theme. This should be obvious, but I have had people recommend survival horror when I've asked for farcical mystery, so it needs to be said. Many TTRPGs - I'd even argue most, and that includes D&D - have pretty significant genre expectations, and so you should be matching those to the interests of the person you're talking to.
This also goes for tools and mechanics! Having a virtual character sheet or dice rollers (for example) isn't terribly important to me, but some people do want the support of these tools and that should be taken under consideration. Don't tell someone who is primarily playing remotely to try to play Dread; don't tell someone looking for a system that supports character advancement over time to play Honey Heist. Again, seemingly intuitive, but you'd be surprised at how often people ignore the entire content of a request simply to hype their favorite game and in doing so harm that game's perception.
The person you're interacting with is a human with preferences, not a faceless proselytizing target. This is about them. It's not about your favorite game. It's about the game you think could be their favorite game.
A crash course will do wonders.
A crash course isn't as immediately attention-grabbing as saying "this is/isn't just like D&D," but it is actually useful. This is why actual play is such a powerful tool for encouraging people to play games - they can see an example. I'm the kind of person who does read a rulebook cover to cover, but this is still useful, because games can come off as far more intimidating or finicky on paper than they are in play. Understanding common player shortcuts and rules as intended vs. written is pure gold in terms of being convincing.
(For what it's worth: I do think it's important to read the rules once you've gotten the gist from actual play. I'm not a fan of "rules by osmosis." However, I think having crash courses or actual play examples are an important part of making people decide it's worth investing the time and often money involved in obtaining the game and reading the rules in the first place.)
If there's a free quickstart guide, an actual play episode or one-shot, or any kind of succinct but reasonably thorough introduction to the game, start there. Disseminate it. Put the rules in someone's hands and say "if this is interesting to you, join us!" and let them make their decision.
Don't sell a fixer-upper
(This also goes for D&D players talking mechanics - it's a community-wide problem to be sure.)
If you don't know of a game that fits someone's needs? Admit it. Point them towards people who know more about the TTRPG landscape, but my god, do not tell them "well, you can learn another system, and then immediately start hacking it with twenty add-ons and house rules before you have any fluency." It's okay to not know! It's even okay to say "I don't know something that achieves all of X, Y, and Z, but you might like this game, which is really good at X and decent at Y out of the box." Again: change is hard. Change that requires even more effort than usual is harder.
Are you trying to convince people to change, or are you trying to convince them to stop?
Shame is useful when you want people to stop doing something, or do something that doesn't require continued interactions with those yelling at them. It's useful to get people to stop making off-color jokes. It's very bad for getting people to join your community. (It's very good for making people leave your community).
This is especially true with TTRPGs, which do not have to be a zero sum game - we all have finite amounts of time, but people can and do play multiple games. And so again: do you genuinely want people to play your favorite game? Or do you just want to get them to stop playing D&D? Would you be welcoming to someone who runs alternating one shots or mini campaigns in both systems, or is it more important to you that they not play D&D, even if that means they never give your favorite indie creator a dime? And if it's the latter...what does that say about you?
In summary:
My general experience in TTRPG spaces as a D&D player has been, honestly, that many indie players are less interested in getting D&D players to join them than in getting D&D players to stop playing D&D. In my admittedly spiteful case, this means that there are a few TTRPGs I truly will not check out because I've found the online community to be far too unpleasant for it to be worth my time.
I'm well aware those people are not representative of all players. I'm sure there are many lovely players. And, for what it's worth, while I would never do something as invasive or obnoxious as going on other people's posts or worse, into their inbox or DMs to berate them for saying they dislike the game I play, I'm sure there are people who have come across my posts and said, for whatever reason, "I don't want to play with her."
I think D&D does have a certain amount of leeway in that it is the predominant game, for better or for worse, and so it's much easier to find the voices you enjoy and drown out those who don't, whereas there are indie games where one single person has been my sole introduction to it, and they have immediately fucked it up by making that introduction to it in the form of being incredibly obnoxious. Again: it's not fair. I'm not pretending it's fair. But it is the reality.
So it's worth checking to see if aggressive evangelizers in your own community are actively making your favorite game seem more unpalatable. You will do more good by getting them to cut it out than by promising the people they're bothering that not all of you are like that.
If you're interested in hyping up a game, then I'd focus on making posts about why it's good - not why others are bad; capitalizing in a positive way on popular shows branching out into other systems (eg, TAZ's BitD and Monster Hunter campaigns and dips into Urban Shadows; D20's Kids on Brooms or Good Society hacks; the CR and RQG one-shots of your choosing); and providing crash courses and fun, easily navigable paths to playing it.
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poledancingdinos · 2 years
Text
You’ve Got Me Hooked - Chapter 9
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Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Riley McKenzie)
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: Sex work, Stripper, OnlyFans, Angst
Catch up: Series Masterlist
Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @marytudorbrandon @enchantedbytomandhenry @foxyjwls007 @peaches1958 @identity2212 @summersong69 @liecastillo @islacharlotte @evansabove1981 @eskiix
A/N: If you want to be added or removed from my taglist, let me know!
Masterlist
Sy
I hate being back on Jared's couch. I accidentally flashed his wife this morning because I kicked the blankets off in my sleep while having a very graphic dream about Riley that had my boxers struggling to conceal my raging morning wood.
Despite feeling like a nuisance again, the worst part about the situation is not being near Riley. I miss her even though she was never mine to miss. It's Tuesday and I imagine she must be home watching a movie on the couch with a giant mug of something hot and sweet.
She never did answer any of my messages but I know she’s alive because she dropped off her file for Don after I left the garage last Monday. The rejection stung but I got the message loud and clear.
Her work was so thorough that he took the file with him to the bank for the loan meeting. He was able to get all the money he needed and the repairs start next week. She also set up the social media accounts for the garage and so far it does seem to have helped. She’s absolutely amazing at this and whoever let her go from her old job is a damn fool.
The TV is on in front of me but it's muted because I'm not really following along so much as staring off into space in the general direction of the screen. My phone rings beside me and I pick it up without checking the caller ID.
"Yeah?" I grunt, annoyed that someone is interrupting my little moping session.
“Sy?”
I sit up from the couch, passing the phone from one ear to the other. 
“Riley? Hey, I didn’t expect to hear from—”
“Sy,” she interrupts, “I— I’m sorry, I don’t have a lot of time. My phone is almost dead and I didn’t know who else to call.”
Her voice is thick with emotions and she falters over the words. It immediately sends my entire body on high alert. 
“What’s wrong? Riley, are you okay?”
I begin to pace from one end of the living room to the next. Aika follows in a close heel position, her big brown eyes looking up with an intensity that no doubt mirrors that of my own face.
“I— I don’t know. I’m sorry, I know you’re probably still mad at me for what happened but I’m stuck out on Clavering Boulevard in Atlanta and my stupid car won’t start and—”
“Riley," she's talking so fast there's no room for a breath, "breathe for me, sweetheart." I take my own advice and let out a slow breath through my mouth. "Are ya safe where ya are?”
“I think so?”
I pocket my wallet and take my keys from the hook by the doors as I slip my feet in my boots without bothering to lace them up. 
“Okay, stay put. Ya said your phone’s almost dead?”
“Yeah," she sighs.
“Then text me your exact location.”
I'm already in my truck, putting my phone up in the holder while the call transfers over to the Bluetooth system.
“Hang tight, sweetheart.” That’s the second time the endearment comes out of its own accord but it just feels right. “I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you, Sy. I’m so sorry to do this to you.” Fuck, that was definitely a sob.
“Don’t apologize, I’m glad ya called. I’m on my way.”
My phone pings again just as I pull onto the freeway. I haphazardly punch the cross-street into the GPS while I swerve around the few other cars on the road, speeding 20 miles an hour over the limit.
I play the conversation with Riley over again in my head. She sounded panicked but besides saying that she was stuck somewhere in a sketchy part of Atlanta, I don’t know what’s going on. Some stupid part of my brain is pleased that she called me and not someone else but the logical part of me knows that when your car doesn’t start, you call a mechanic.
The other thing I don't understand is why she thinks I'm mad at her. We haven’t spoken since that fateful night. The night I fucked everything up by letting my friends drag me to that damn strip club and effectively ruined my relationship with my roommate. When she didn’t answer my calls or respond to my voicemail about where she was I moved back into Jared’s place, cursing Luke the entire time.
I thought that maybe having me around would be intimidating for her. I figured giving her a bit of space would help her work through whatever she was feeling and that she would call when she was ready but she never did. I haven’t answered any of Luke’s calls or texts either so I guess I know how Riley feels. We were both betrayed by people we trusted.
I hope she hasn't gone into my room since I’ve been gone. The fact that she hasn’t called to complain about the fist sized hole I left in the drywall suggests that I might be able to sneak in and repair it while she’s out. I’d hate for her to lose her security deposit because of me.
I was so worked up after leaving that last voicemail. Luke had just texted me and he’d had the fucking audacity to say that us seeing each other at the club was a good thing. His exact words were you can finally stop lying to her .
After that, I wasn’t only mad at him. I was mad at myself. He’s right. I did lie to her. Every conversation we had, I pretended I didn’t know about her double life. Sure, she wasn’t fully honest with me but she’s entitled to keep certain parts of her life private.
I, on the other hand, intentionally deceived her for what? Over two months? And why? I could have come right out and told her. I could have told her what I found out and she would have either let me stay with her or she wouldn’t have but my selfish ass didn’t want to risk missing out on getting to know her.
When I reach the end of the GPS navigation and Riley’s car is nowhere in sight, I start to panic. I pull up to the side of the road and look at the pin on the map that shows the location Riley shared with me. When I think I’ve figured out where I need to go, I put the truck in drive and turn onto an unmarked road that leads between rows of warehouses.
I spot Riley’s car off one of the side streets and make a last minute hairpin turn as I accelerate towards her. There isn’t a single street lamp so I stop the truck in the middle of the lane at an angle that illuminates the front half of her car with my headlights.
I jump out and walk to her driver’s side door. My body cast a shadow across the window, blocking my view of the inside of the car. I’m sure the light has alerted her to my presence but since she’s made no move to come out, I knock gently on the glass.
The lock on the door clicks and I backup to allow Riley to open the door.
“What the fuck happened?” I growl as soon as her body comes into view. I stand rooted in place, taking in her appearance. The only thing she has on is see through lingerie. She’s not even wearing any fucking shoes. Her makeup is smudged and running down her cheeks but on the right side, below the black mascara, is a patch of dark purple skin that can only be a bruise.
I’m fucking seething. Now I know why she sounded so terrified on the phone and someone is about to lose their fucking head.
I’m pulled out of the rabbit hole of dark thoughts when Riley whimpers and scoots backwards, obviously spooked by my outburst.
“Fuck, Ri, it’s okay don’t be scared, please.” I relax my hands at my side, unclenching my fists.
Her bottom lip is quivering when she looks up at me with tear filled eyes. “Please, Sy, I just want to go home.” She pulls her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and it breaks my fucking heart.
“Of course, don’t move.” I race back to my truck and shift through the items in my backseat until I reach my gym bag. I find a clean sweatshirt but the rest of my gear is in the dirty laundry back at my and Riley’s apartment. The hoodie will have to do until I get her home.
“Okay, sweetheart, I have something that ya can put on.” I hope that my words are enough of a warning that I’m going to approach her.
I squat in front of her and hold the bottom of the hoodie for her to slip her arms through. She sniffs a few times before reaching forward. The hoodie is not such a bad fit after all. Once it’s pulled down her slight frame, it’s so long that it comes down nearly to her knees.
“Take everything ya need and let's get ya in the truck. I’ll put the heat on while I look under the hood.” Her body is covered in goosebumps and she’s shivering badly although, at this point, I’m not sure if it’s because of the cool night breeze or if she’s in a state of shock. Probably both.
She nods almost imperceptibly and I extend my hand for her to take. She moves to put her feet on the ground but I stop her when I remember she’s barefoot.
“I’m gonna carry ya, I don’t want ya to get cut on anything.”
She lets me guide her arms around my neck and holds on as she’s lifted out of the car. Once I have her safely tucked away, I make quick work of inspecting her car’s motor. I find the problem quickly. The problem is that the car should be sold for parts and never be driven on public roads again. I don’t even know how it lasted this long.
I call the tow company we use at work and leave a message. They won’t open until morning but the car getting stolen between now and then would not be a big loss. I shut the hood, wipe my hands on my jeans and get back in the cab next to Riley.
“Ri?” She doesn’t look at me. Her small hum is the only sign that she has even heard me call her name.
“I think I should take ya to a hospital or something.”
That catches her attention. “No! No you can’t do that!” All of the sudden her fingers are wrapped around the door handle and I have to reach out and grab her to keep her from falling out when her weight pushes it open.
“Hey, it’s alright, sweetheart. No hospital.”
Her body is deadly still. She stares down at the hand I laid on her thigh, just above her knee, and I expect her to bat it away but it seems to have a calming effect on her. She takes a few deep breaths, slowing her frantic breathing then pulls the door fully shut and releases the handle.
“No hospital,” she repeats, still fixated on my hand. “And no police.”
Fuck. Whatever happened must have been bad. I agree, straightening in my seat and starting the truck. I keep my hand on her thigh the whole drive back to our apartment. Once we get there, I contemplate the best way to get her up the stairs.
“Ri? Can I carry ya in?”
“Please.” The one word plea splits my heart right down the middle.
I get her to wrap her legs around my waist so that one of my hands is free to unlock the door and she hugs me tightly, pressing her face into my neck. I stop in the kitchen long enough to grab a towel and a bag of frozen peas then carry her the rest of the distance to her bedroom.
I lay her gently on the bed, immediately covering her up with a blanket. When the bedside lamp gets switched on, I press the makeshift ice pack to Riley’s swollen cheek.
“Can ya hold this for me? That’s good, hold it just like that.”
Her eyes follow me as I move around the room. I open a few drawers before I find a pair of shorts and a shirt I’ve seen her wear to bed before. If she’s bothered by my invasion of her privacy, she doesn’t say it. After finding a pack of makeup remover wipes in the bathroom, I hand her the clothes and turn around while she changes. There’s a faint swishing sound from the left side of the room followed by the rustling of her bed sheets. Looking over, I realize that Riley has thrown the underwear she was wearing into the trash.
“You can look now.”
When I turn back, she’s wearing the clothes I gave her but she’s also put my hoodie back on over top. I kneel by the bed and proceed to gently clean the ruined makeup from her face. 
“What can I do?” I ask when I finish my task, guiding the ice back to her face. The red and purple bruise over her cheekbone is fully visible, part of it extending almost to her eyebrow.
I’m prepared to do absolutely anything she needs but I’m still taken aback by her answer.
“Stay with me. I don’t want to sleep alone.”
I honestly don't think that's such a good idea but I'm not about to tell her that. If she thinks this is what she needs then that's what I will do.
“Lemme change and I’ll be right back.”
I go across the hall to find a pair of shorts. While I’m there, I fire off a text to Jared asking him to take care of Aika followed by another to Don saying I’m taking the day off tomorrow.
When I return to Riley’s room, she’s moved to the far side of the bed, leaving a space for me to join her. I hate that the first time I saw Riley’s body was on a stage, surrounded by two dozen men. I hate that the first time I got to hold Riley was to lift her out of her car on the side of a sketchy road. I hate that the first time I’m going to share a bed with her is because she’s afraid of whatever it is that happened tonight.
“Ya still want me to join?”
“Please.”
I slip between the sheets laying flat on my back as close to the edge as I can. To my surprise, Riley moves closer to me and lifts my arm, placing it around her shoulder. I follow her lead and pull her into my chest, wrapping both arms protectively around Riley’s frame. Her small hands wrap themselves around the fabric of my shirt like she’s trying to keep me from leaving. I don’t even think I could pull myself away from her if I tried.
“Ri, I know I look like some big ol’ redneck, but ya can tell me anything. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here to listen.”
She peeks up at me, small tear drops clinging to her eyelashes. “I don’t know if I can.”
I brush a strand of hair away from her face and the action causes her eyes to flutter closed as she rests her forehead against my chest. I repeat the motion, smoothing out her messy blond hair and gently coaxing out the knots.
“That’s okay,” I whisper. “I’ll be right here if ya change your mind.”
I can tell the exact moment Riley drifts off to sleep. Her entire body goes slack, the grip she has on my shirt loosening and the tension in her shoulders disappearing. I wait another few minutes, making sure she’s really out, then I press a kiss to the top of her head before switching off the lamp and plunging the room into darkness.
Chapter 10
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afniel · 1 year
Note
Yo hi there? I’m hoping you dont find this ask strange, weird or whatever you call it 😞 Just wanted to ask a favor if you could possibly check the post I pinned for my cat? Its on this blog, please do check if you have a spare time and reblog/boost it as we badly need help because there’s some kind of a rash on her mouth and im so so worried 😭😭 Im so sorry if I did bother you, just need some help. Please do send me a msg to reply or answer the ask privately, please and have good day! 😭🙏🙏🐈
So here's a real common likely scam. Account seems legit at first glance, name makes sense, contents are thematically related, seems like it all checks out. Except as of the time of this reply, this account is a whole 11 hours old, and the only personal posts they've made are asking for money for this cat that might or might not exist.
I'll allow that reverse image search didn't pull up any identical cat photos, but the single photo they supplied doesn't show any kind of oral lesions, or indeed anything specifically wrong with the cat at all. It's just a cat photo. Cute, but not credible.
Asking to only reply privately about what seems to be a public fundraiser is a huge red flag also. Normally if someone asks that, you do it, right? That's been considered Tumblr good manners since the site's inception. However it's shady to go around sending copypasta asks to strangers for money and then essentially asking them to not blow your cover.
The link in their post not only uses PayPal and not something more reputable for fundraising, but it specifically asks you to send it as friends and family to avoid them taking a cut. This also handily avoids almost all of PayPal's built-in scam protection and refund systems.
Checking their pinned post also reveals that someone's already pointed out that it's likely a scam and they didn't even refute it, when it would have been super easy to go, "Sorry it sounded sketchy, here's more detail."
And even if this is still somehow real despite entirely failing the sniff test, and there really is an 11-hour-old account with a sick cat, no pictures of what sounds like it should be a visible ailment, no idea that GoFundMe exists, and parroting an extremely common scam (and let's be real here, I don't believe that to be the case for one moment)...
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Don't fucking prey on strangers with this. That's not what we're here for. Like I'm flattered that you think my following is large enough to contain a few suckers but get the fuck on outta here, buddy.
I'm off to report and block this person now and you should do the same.
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three--rings · 7 months
Text
American Healthcare- Vision Edition
Okay for the last 10 months I've been paying extra on my healthcare.gov shitty insurance to get vision and dental, right? Cause my husband needs vision and I knew I also needed to get seen cause my eyes are getting shittier all the time.
So I'm finally trying to stop putting it off and do the thing. Get an eye exam. You know, the thing people like walk into malls and wal-mart and supposedly do all the time.
But I have shitty insurance and so it goes like this: look on my insurance website to find providers in-network. Okay.
Find one and go online and make an appointment to be seen. Day of appointment, get a text that they don't take my insurance. They have no idea why my insurance thinks they do. Okay, call doctor's office to make appointment. Sorry we only take your insurance if you have a MEDICAL reason for being seen and not for routine eye care. Do you have glaucoma. IDK I might, but I've never had a fucking eye exam, that's why I'm calling.
Okay so fine, half my in network results are Wal-mart but I kinda wanted better than a Wal-mart doctor since I've literally never had an exam before. Fuck it I call Wal-mart. Well, I need to call a different number to make the appointment, but they won't be back until two days from now. Because they don't work Wednesday or Thursday for some reason.
I have unexpected transport this week and I'd really like to get this done, so I go back to the list. Now I'm afraid to call real doctors offices because I don't want to hear their excuse why they won't take my insurance. So I call what sounds like a sketchy strip mall place. Please hang up and go to our website. Okay, I do this, but still can't get an appointment until next week.
At this point, my husband is like, we'll just pay out of pocket and sure we COULD but why have I paid this company for ten months only to NOT use it for the one thing they do? I could have literally put that money in savings and paid for an eye exam by now.
This has been the American Health Care System. Because eyes aren't included.
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eeveecraft · 9 months
Note
I do have to say (because all of the talk about sysmeds mass reporting is causing me so much panic I almost deleted) — Tumblr has been mass terminating LGBT+ blogs recently. It’s been a thing. A lot of people are getting fucked over.
I’m really really upset that everyone immediately said it was sysmeds because it’s genuinely causing me panic and I don’t really think people are mass reporting just for existing? Sophie is vocal in syscourse but you aren’t and now I’m terrified. There’s so many explanations but now you all are the ones vaguely saying “ooo it MIGHT be anti endos” and just. Everything is so bad faith it makes me sick ):
I don’t think we were purged because we happen to be queer. I’m not super vocal about us being a queer system on this blog, nor do I post in queer tags. I’d be more inclined to believe that if we were more overtly open about us being queer and talked about it more.
But to counter your second point: can you really blame the community for jumping to that conclusion? Like I said in our post, sysmeds mass reporting popular blogs HAS happened before. Just because Sophie is vocal about syscourse doesn’t mean she deserved to get mass-flagged by sysmeds TWICE because of it.
Like, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but yes, sysmeds hate us *that* much for just existing, and it’s really fucked up. There’s literally entire subreddits dedicated to sh!tting on and fakeclaiming not only nondisordered systems, but even pro-endogenic disordered systems. They literally cannot accept the fact that people can be plural through means other than severe trauma and that Plurality isn’t *inherently* pathological. They especially hate Tulpamancy because they see it as treating a very serious disorder as a joke because to them, DID/OSDD = Plurality and DID/OSDD only.
I’m genuinely sorry this has terrified you and has caused you such distress, but it legitimately isn’t a stretch to speculate that sysmeds had it out for us, ESPECIALLY considering their history and the current circumstances in the tulpa-related tags right now. But I’m also not saying for 100% that they did it. We don’t know. I’m not going to lie and say sysmeds 100% did it because that is disinformation and fear-mongering. It could’ve absolutely been a fuck-up on Tumblr’s end that just *happened* to occur at a really sh!tty time.
We assume these takes and motives are in bad-faith for a variety of reasons. This viewpoint is mostly backed by people who don’t think we exist, have a history of mass-flagging blogs they dislike enough, have NO issue witch-hunting and harassing people, and even the supposed pro-endo anti-tulpa terminology people may or may not literally be fraternizing with sysmeds and are involved in really sketchy servers.
In that one post criticizing my original post, the OP not only accused us of spreading “incredibly racist ideas,” stated basically that they see why we get harassed because to them; we’re just a sh!tty racist, spreading blatant disinformation, fucking name-dropping and linking our blog despite us having them blocked, and conveniently NOT telling people NOT to witch-hunt us. Tell me: how the fuck is that in good faith? And that system is supposedly fucking pro-endogenic, anti-tulpa terminology. Like I said, it is NOT a stretch to assume that that post incited a witch-hunt, even considering the possibility that the OP didn’t intend it.
I have never condoned witch-hunting sysmeds, I do not condone ANY harassment towards them, and never will. Not only is it pointless because most sysmeds are stuck in their mindset, but it just creates a really toxic community environment. Just block, report if they’re saying hate-speech or telling blogs to end their existence, but please, for all our followers, sending hate to them is not okay, nor productive.
And truly, if this sh!t is making you feel sick, please don’t obligated to stay here. Please focus on taking care of yourself, and if you need to unfollow us, block tags, or whatever to disengage with this, please do. Your health comes first.
7-31-2023
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arcaneprism · 1 year
Text
Coffee Shops
Requested by: @catuskat666​
Prompts: Soulmate AU, magic coffee mug
Warnings: Mentions of food
Notes: IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE I ACTUALLY STARTED WRITING IT AGES AGO BUT I GOT HIT WITH THE WORST WRITERS BLOCK - like... i literally havent written anything I could release as even a short story for years??? So I decided to like... bullet point hcs (my thoughts may wander and be incoherent im so sorry) instead or else this will never see the light of day. I will leave the few lines I’ve written at the bottom tho!! 
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So most people have soulmate marks that make it easy to find who their soulmate is. It could be an odd mark but once you knew who it was referring to then it’s pretty obvious.
Okay some people had rather unfortunate marks because of this (Claire had the trollhunters amulet in a pan poor girl) but he’d still say they got lucky
Douxie got a fucking coffee mug
He worked in a coffee shop constantly surrounded by people who are addicted to and reliant to coffee how on Earth was he supposed to rely on a coffee cup to figure out who his soulmate was???
Okay well, he knew that they were magic at least.
His soul mark was on his left forearm and it spends most of its time under Douxie’s magic bracelet thing and his hoodie sleeve. It was a magic wand pouring coffee into a mug with magic sparkles surrounding it. the mug had a ribbon banner type of decor around it that said something Douxie couldn’t fully make out. All he could read of it was ‘- alive because of coffee -’ and ‘-ally die’. 
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(Pardon the sketchiness i kinda just doodled it like 5 minutes ago)
Once again, Douxie did not find this information helpful. Arcadia was filled with magical creatures - trolls, aliens, wizards and witches, it was literally magic central and again !!! He works !!! in a coffee shop !!! surrounded by caffeine addicts !!!
When asked, Douxie would probably shrug it off - he’d been alive 900 years after all, if he was going to meet his soulmate, he’d probably have done it by now. (Especially now that, y’know, he worked where their source of life can easily be found - no he wasn’t salty at all that he’s not met them, what made you think that?)
It would be nice to meet them though. He would love the intimacy and understanding people with soulmates seemed to experience. Platonic or romantic, it didn’t matter. He’d love having a lifelong friend he could bare his soul to. 
If he was being honest, the reason he craved meeting his soulmate so much is probably his lack of a support system?? He had Archie and Zoe and made various friends over the years sure but Archie wasn’t human and he didn’t always get it and Zoe had her own life and her own issues and both of them often needed space from each other (900 years of constantly being around the same person does get quite suffocating) and his other friends were mortal so... that wasn’t great. What he build proved to be a sufficient support system over the years but a sufficient support system doesn’t make for an ideal one and yeah, he’d like something more stable
Whatever ROT alternative happened, Douxie went to Metrocity or somewhere and came back to Arcadia after.
(I like the thought that he probably bumped into his soulmate at Metrocity honestly??? They were probably holidaying or lived there or something idk but the universe dictated that it was not yet time for them to meet so no significant conversation happened and definitely nothing coffee related they probably just passed by each other or something)
Back at Arcadia, Douxie went back to working at the coffee shop
Everything was settled, his family has grown, he felt at peace. Soulmate existing or not, he was happy with the support system he finally built. He was happy.
Then one day someone walked into the shop speaking into their phone.
“Okay, I’m at the coffee shop now.” “Oh come on, you know me. I’m literally only alive because of coffee. I need it. Without it, I’d literally die.”
The words they spoke felt familiar but he wasn’t quite sure where he’d heard them before.
He took their order and didn’t notice them staring at the skull necklace around his neck as they spoke.
He made their order, not realising that he had grabbed one of the takeaway cups with a ribbon decal around it.
When he passed them their order, their fingers brushed and Douxie could feel the small distinctive tingle of magic on their fingertips.
When he looked up, he saw their soulmate mark on their shoulder and stopped.
The customer furrowed their brows then asked if he played guitar and oh
Oh, this was them.
He’d finally found them.
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I imagine his soulmate’s mark to be something somewhat like the doodle above? A guitar with a skull on it surrounded by wisps of magic.
But okay yeah that’s pretty much all I had in mind for this there’s a bit of prose under the picture underneath but as you can see I was... struggling for coherency akjefsajdn
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Douxie had the stupidest soulmate mark, he decided.
Some people had soulmate marks that were clear and told them who their soulmate were. Jim had a skull on top of the shadow staff made out of roses and Claire had the trollhunter’s amulet on top of a frying pan - which looked kind of weird but it was clear. They could tell who their soulmates were. They knew.
Douxie had a goddamned coffee mug. A COFFEE MUG!! HE WORKS IN A COFFEE SHOP HOW IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE HELPFUL!?!?!?
If he’s only worked in
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marinerainbow · 1 year
Text
My OC's and handling sickness
🦋Betty Locera🦋
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If her loved one I sick:
Betty comes from a big, family-oriented, southern household. She's got this.
She knows all the best recipes. She knows all the greatest tricks, and she pays attention to what helps her loved one the most with comfort.
But she also knows when to be firm. Like when a child is being fussy about taking their medicine; she knows not to spoil the one she's taking care of, "Aw c'mon now. Don't be a big baby, you'll be better before 'ya know it if you just take 'yer medicine."
If she's the one sick
I hope she didn't have any unfinished chores, because she'll be down for the count if this happens.
Her immune system is pretty strong, with her family business having to do with dealing with dirt and her love for the outdoors and all. So the chances of her getting sick aren't too high.
Betty is the most likely to accept help, since she knows that she's too weak to take care of herself and it can even help her get better faster, "Aw, thank 'ya 'fer the tea, sugar. It really helps."
🔎Detective Sketch🔎
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If their loved one is sick
They've only had themselves to take care of for a long time. So the first time their partner gets sick they're uh... Kinda clueless.
They aren't a great cook, but they'll be able to provide the things they'll need; Sketch'll buy some canned soup and orange juice, keep the tissues stocked, whatever their loved one needs.
They have to keep working, so they won't stay by their loved one's bedside the whole day. But they try to be there for them when their home, "I'll be back home soon enough. 'Ya just sit tight, ok?"
If they're the one sick
Good luck getting this bastard to take the day off. They'll be puking their guts out before they even think about taking a sick leave.
Sketch's immune system is... Possibly stronger than Betty's, actually. She doesn't go to the city often, and Sketch has lived there their whole life; all the different people they run into carrying God knows what on them, not to mention their job handling gritty cases or going into sketchy buildings- and their sheer spite- has probably made their immune system pretty tough.
When they finally are convinced to stop running down and actually sit down, their exhaustion catches uo to them and they kind of just pass out. They'll still try to insist on taking care of themselves despite this, "I got it! If I can walk, I can cook for my damn self!"
🌼Prism🌼
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If her loved one is sick
This gal has had centuries of experience. She'll help her loved one through this.
Since it's the Night Dimension, I wouldn't be surprised if there were some magical or strange remedies passed along. And since Prism lives in the tree of knowledge, she'll just pull out the book needed, find the information she needs, and gets to work.
She is a guardian, so she can't stay the whole time. But Prism will feel pretty bad and try to make it up to her loved one, "I'm sorry I was gone so long. Maybe I can go find us a good story to read, or I can make you something to eat if you're hungry."
If she's the one sick
Prism does not want to face the facts. Too many people depend on her, she can't just be bedridden while the nightmaren are running around!
I imagine her immune system would be average. She goes out and has a demanding job as a guardian, but she's also a fairly clean person so no germs or infections should have too much of a chance to get to her.
Like Sketch, she'll swear up and down that she's ok... But the second Prism actually lays down and fully realizes how weak she is, she'll begrudgingly acknowledge she has to stay home, "... Alright, I'll stay. But promise me you'll look after the visitors for me, will you?
🐰Poppy🐰
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If her loved one is sick
The second she sees her loved one is sick, she's grabbing the face mask- and disposable gloves if it's really bad- before taking them to bed. It wouldn't benefit them both if she caught what they had while taking care of them, right?
Poppy would be a good caretaker. She's, arguably, the most gentle and patient of all the others. She doesn't want to stress her loved one out in the slightest and will have the patience of a Saint even for the fussiest of patients.
She'd be the one most hesitant to leave her loved one's bedside. Bills still need to be paid though, so if her boss won't grant her some time off, she'll leave them for work. But she'll feel the most guilt, and will triple check to make sure they have everything they need, "Ok you have your trash bin, your tissues. I got you your favorite book if you can't sleep. Do you want me to bring the radio in too?"
If she's the one sick
When she gets sick, her body takes it horribly. She will barely be able to force herself to go to work- don't worry, she wears her mask while sick and will take precautions.
Poppy is a neat freak. She will keep her place as clean as possible and doesn't like to get dirty. So, ironically, she'd have the weakest immune system.
Poppy would also be hesitant with people helping her, but more so out of guilt than pride. Especially if they aren't as careful as she is and risk getting themselves sick. Not to mention that she's lived alone for years, so she's used to taking care if herself anyway, "Oh no, it's ok. I can make the tea, don't worry."
I hope you guys like these! Any questions you guys have I'll be more than happy to answer ^^
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krys-loves-otome · 1 year
Note
Oh! Treat this like a mash-up for all your blogs I follow.
One reason is that I enjoy seeing your reblogs, otome or not. They're overall a rather interesting collection.
Another is that I enjoy seeing your OCs. I don't follow them very closely, but I sometimes take a time to go back and search for them, and they're delightful. I especially like your art with them.
And one other reason is that, hm. Whenever ask games roll by, I like to ask you questions, especially in regards to writing. The way I see it, you tend to offer a very grounded perspective, rooted profoundly in experiences that connect both online and offline world (what I mean by that is that you don't seem to lean too strongly into either direction; equilibrium?), so it's often very refreshing.
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Anon or not, tell me why you follow me
Kinda sorry that that this turned into Self-Promo the Ask, but not really
For a short ref of my blogs (in case anyone else was curious):
@krys-loves-otome You Are Here! The main blog where I reblog otome content, both from others as well as my own. Asks and likes come from this blog.
@not-krys is my writing blog where I post all my writing content, be it fanfic or original. I post a lot of wips there, usually at least once a month for WIP Wednesdays. Hope you like OCs, bc I love OCs and I love writing with and about them. Matter of fact, just posted with my IkeSen girls Houki and Ophelia and my ikevamp girl Abby this morning!
@krys-reblogs is my reblogs channel where I post stuff not related to otome. Mostly filled with cats, anime, meta, and Fire Emblem: Three Houses. And Howl's Moving Castle, both the book and the Ghibli movie inspired by it.
I have an art blog, but I had wanted to make into an archive, which meant uploading a lot of content and whatnot, so it's just sitting currently. Might or might not do anything with it. I've got an insta tho /krysimeteri for more art stuff. And a twitter where I do art stuff and wips of the art stuff and talk about ocs. That one is /krys_does_stuff
And for OC related stuff, I also have a masterlist for them, both for Fandom OCs and original originals. It has links for fics and art I've posted on tumblr about them, in case anyone wants a quick link to my oc content!
Now that the shelling is out of the way (lol)...
I like to reblog things as a promotion for friends and cool people, to show everyone what things I think are cool or lookit what my friend has done! It's what tumblr is for! (Just kinda embarrassed that I prefer using the queue system rather than a string of reblogs. It helps me to stay organized and so that I can find things if I need to. But it is slow in posting stuff, thus the embarrassment).
I've been debating some of my study work for my OCs on this blog (like my real sketchy stuff with figuring out different body types and proportions, color studies, and inking practice.) Just unsure as it's OC stuff and studies at that, which might be interesting from an artist perspective, but not so much for the average layperson seeing my stuff.
And I like getting questions and asks! About writing, art, my ocs, or just random things, questions and asks are fun for me! Glad that I can give good advice and such, especially with a grounded perspective. Probably comes from being around for a while, both in actuality and being in online spaces since I was like 12 (y'know, back when dinosaurs wore powdered wigs with backwards caps and said outdated things things like 'radical', 'bodacious', and 'eat my shorts'.)
Thanks for the ask!
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cryptramesses · 1 year
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I took the KO beginners class a while ago, and I do wish there were more at least somewhat organized groups among kemetic pagans, but I REALLY couldn't get past the intense hierarchy and the whole Nisut situation. I mean she's probably fine as a person but believing someone specific is in possession of "the kingly Ka" and not being able to question that because it's a core tenet of your religion is way across the line for me in terms of red flags.
sorry for bringing this at you randomly but it seems a lot of the time like either people aren't involved enough to have heard of it, or are part of it. and I don't want to shit on them! I honestly haven't got the impression that it's a cult but it's definitely starting from a dodgy position in terms of going that way
Thank you so much for the message, I don't mind you coming out of nowhere with this topic, I'm more than happy to address it. My response is a bit longer so it'll be under a read more!
What I will say is that where there is a void of something, there will always be people who will come in to occupy the space. While there may not be a lot of organizations that occupy the Kemetic Religious Niche, I'm sure more will come along to do so, we just have to be patient, and hope someone feels called to do that without claiming to have the "Kingly Ka". I know a few people personally who want to establish temples and whatnot, not out of a desire to create a religion, but rather they like the idea of giving people a place to worship and host festivals when they had no ability to during their entire lives up to that point. It is a completely selfless act of theirs with no desire to lead a group of people or control them. These individuals just wish to provide resources and a safe place for folks of similar walks to worship and build a sense of community. Definitely not making a whole new religious group or system. But stuff happens in weird ways, so I'm sure someone will do something and it'll become something greater, or perhaps Kemetic Paganism has always been something that is more individualized, sure we have key rules we all kinda agree on, but otherwise we all practice independently of each other outside of small groups. At the same time though, if this is the case, that doesn't mean community cannot be had. We just need the spaces to have that community that aren't all digital. But who knows, this might all be ramblings of things to come. Overall I think there's a pull for it, so it'll happen eventually, and there's definitely discontentment with KO, so it'll probably happen sooner rather than later.
As for the Nisut, I agree with you. It's a very big red flag. I don't think anyone has the ability to claim themselves to be divine. It creates a power dynamic that overall shifts power into the hands of one person more-so than the collective. This can become a major issue considering the fact that it allows for bad faith actors to flourish and commit abuses. We know that there are far more sketchy things about the Nisut that have been said and done, stuff that is very much discriminatory towards certain groups, opinions and alleged actions that are just not befitting of a religious leader with that much power (stuff I plan to address when I eventually make a video essay on the topic). Overall it isn't a safe environment for everyone from what people have said about it and on all the reports I've read on the topic. (I will, again, address this later down the line when I have the time and braincell to write it all up, cause it's hefty af and if I start now this will become far longer than it needs to be)
As for seeing it as a cult, I respect your opinion wholeheartedly. If you don't view it as a cult, I totally get it. Although your observance of direction is very much correct, KO is very likely to go that way from an outsiders perspective. The 'startings of a cult' are all there, and visible to see from the outside. It's possible that it will not go that way if it hasn't yet, but there is just not enough proven evidence from KO themselves to make a solid call. What I will say though, is that when you see some testimonies and some of the information that has slipped out from the inside, it becomes very clear that things are definitely not looking good from a more inside perspective. (I've spent waaaaaaaaaaay too much time researching this, it's kinda crazy -- but what else am I gonna do when my chronic pain flares up?) From what I've seen it's like two strings shy of a Sistrum when it comes to whether its a cult. I believe it is a cult simply from what I've seen and what I can infer from people who have left the group, but when it comes to anything that isn't testimonial, it becomes a lot harder to tell for sure. But that's kind of how cults are. It's all speculation until something really really bad happens. We don't know until we are looking retrospectively into the situation, so what I am encouraging everyone to do is regardless if it's a cult or not, everyone should be cautious and smart with the whole mess.
Overall the stuff happening within the group are all alleged, don't get me wrong, but if the allegations are true it does not look good. Again one day when I have time, energy, and am not struggling with my hEDS/PoTS as badly, I'll probably get something up that kinda covers everything (as finding all the resources, interviewing people who have left without potentially putting them in danger or risking their mental health rehashing it(Trauma is a bitch lemme tell you), and then getting it all together into one place that's easy for readers/viewers to understand, is very difficult), and will probably make a follow up video essay about the topic, because this is one I feel very passionately about and I believe that all the facts need to be present. I firmly believe that everyone who looks into the topic are responsible for their own opinions and should have the resources to formulate those thoughts. I'll make my thoughts clear, but I respect all people's opinions when it comes to the KO. Despite the fact that it's up in the air, I think everyone has the right to voice their place on it regardless, and that we can both praise KO for what good they have done, as well as criticize them for the bad that may have occurred.
I feel like KO is a lovely resource for Kemetic materials, don't get me wrong. But if things are going as sourly at the top as some alleged, it seems it's doing just as much harm. Don't take what I'm taking as solid fact, even I haven't confirmed everything that I've found, but I always try to believe victims more than folks who seem to decline to comment at every turn as soon as controversy arises. While I do take victims claims with a grain of salt, understanding that there may be ulterior motives or it could not be indicative of the whole situation (there are always two sides to a story), I also don't discredit them as every tale has some truth to it, and that truth should not be omitted, regardless of how distorted.
Obviously do not harass or doxx or really do anything to anyone who is part of KO and don't go running around saying they are, without a shadow of a doubt, a cult. In the end I try to make it very clear (may have missed the mark in my original post? cannot remember - I definitely made that post absolutely fuming cause a lot of information just got dropped right on my head so while I do not have different opinion, I may not have made the knowledge that it's opinion super well known) that in my opinion I do view them as a cult on par with many others. But that's an opinion formulated from my knowledge on cults and how they are formed. Overall, I agree, do not shit on the religion itself, if it's a cult or not is not something the people inside can help, and moreover they do not deserve to be hated, isolated, pushed away, or demonized. These are people. Just because they are people though does not mean we shouldn't draw attention to anything that is a problem and could be dangerous to people involved. Preserving everyone's mental, physical, and spiritual autonomy is far more important than punishing those who lost it, whether intentionally or accidentally.
We can be critical and not hateful at the same time. I think the Nisut is probably a good person with good intentions at heart, but I worry that perhaps there is something wrong. I do not know if her intentions are malicious, but I am hoping they are not simply because I do not believe people are innately evil. There are always grays when it comes to people and their perspectives, and we should be willing to understand those perspectives. I do think their world view is probably skewed and this leads to making decisions that can come across as malicious to everyone else who views the world in a less distorted way. It's possible there is some sense of spiritual psychosis present, or perhaps some misinterpretation of godly interaction, whatever it is it's definitely a huge red flag that I think everyone should be aware of.
Sorry this was a long answer, thank you for the message. Feel free to pop in at any time, take care of yourself!
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drew-mga2022mi5016 · 11 months
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Research | Personal Branding - Initial Realisations
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This module has us think about who we are as people, what we want to do and how we want to represent ourselves. Who am I? What makes Drew (that's me), Drew?
First, I analyzed my current portfolio and art style to try and identify any strengths and weaknesses, a SWOT analysis if you will. As mentioned earlier, I plan on focusing on 2D animation and illustration and mixed media artwork for now, so my work mainly capitalizes on these aspects. I realised that my art has a certain flavour; sketchy, with a soft palette and somewhat simplistic art style, but still packed with details. In my work, I enjoy adding smaller intricate designs and easter eggs, one could think of it like an onion (admittedly, I stole this phrase from a friend of mine in our Visual Communication department who follows roughly the same work ethic as me. Sorry, Dulana). Furthermore, I am also fond of the process that goes into making art, so I've included process work from concept sketches to the roughs of all my pieces.
The most glaring weakness in my portfolio however, is a severe lack of work that I can tangibly showcase. Although a lame excuse, the reason for this is my investment of time in the degree programme, however this would change with this semester, as the focus is to find a decent internship.
With that done, I now come to the question of what makes me? Why would people want to work with me? Am I a person who is part of a larger machine, or am I the pilot? Am I even related to the machine? Maybe I'm just some painter on the side of the road? I see myself as a creative force of nature, so to speak. I do not think I could merely be one part of a larger project, I'm more like a spontaneous burst of energy on a whim. I do recognize that due to my activities in the Student Chamber at AOD and my previous position as Vice President that I do have a certain skillset that pertains to leadership, communication and consistency, however I feel that in the future I want to make things that are successful because of what they say, not because I made them. In other words, I do not want to chase fame.
At the end of the day, I want to be an independent creator, which is a difficult journey for sure. In order to get there, I need to learn the skill of selling people my ideas, which is essentially (dreadfully) marketing (what a BORE). I'll need to foster an entrepreneurial and narrative mindset for this. At the end of the day, it's simply a means to an end. I also asked the question of where I would proliferate myself, and to that I do not have a solid answer as of yet. Off the top of my head, the first and easiest thing that comes to mind is social media like YouTube, TikTok, Vimeo, Instagram, anywhere people interact. Furthermore, I would love to proliferate in real life as well, through some form of design campaign (AR perhaps?). These are merely initial speculations, so I will have to properly think about this and the feasibility of it as time passes.
Finally, I asked myself what my story was. What got me where I am now? Right now, nothing of note comes to mind. I studied English Literature at school, and on a whim, decided to drop out during my Advanced Level examinations and change gears to the arts. I had realised that the education system in schools are extremely flawed, and wanted a new, non conformational change of scene. I'd always been an artists (in a sense, I wrote novels and drew anime characters from time to time, and my mother and I have a string background in music) and I felt joining the Motion Graphics and Animation programme on campus would help me become a better storyteller. Somewhere along the line, I fell in love with the visual arts again and as of now, I'm on a trajectory to combine my love for literature and art going forward by creating books, graphic novels, short films, table top games (maybe?) and essentially creating my very own universe with all these interconnected characters and stories.
This made me realise that maybe to get where I need to go, an unconventional internship may benefit me here. As a creative, broadening my scope could possibly help me get where I need to be in the future. For example, an internship in finance could help me learn how to actually price my work, lots of creators ask the question "how do I price myself?" Art is hard to quantify as it is, but we need to do it in order to make money (I'm not saying I want to intern in finance, God no, but it illustrates what I'm trying to say about a different sort of internship). In my case, maybe I could look at places with strong connections to art and culture, or hone in on my strengths of music to learn how to create a multisensory experience through my work? I believe now, it's time for a bit of self reflection.
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So I accidentally committed a war crime today
My brother has friends over from our dnd group and I am absolutely gonna catch hell for this later and I genuinely feel horrible
But the TL;DR moment here is that one of said friends used the bathroom like two minutes after I took a massive shit and it didn’t have time to uh. Air out.
And in this house, we talk about poop (digestive issues gang wya), so if you don’t wanna know why it was a war crime, stop reading now.
It’s not graphic but it’s gross, and if you don’t have digestive issues, you might not be used to poop talk, so viewer discretion is advised
I have something called EPI (exocrine pancreatic insufficiency), which basically means that I don’t digest my food when I eat. Were it not for the miracles of modern medicine, I would be doomed to die a slow and painful death from malnutrition (assuming I didn’t get myself killed in another way first, anyway; EPI is just one in a long list of issues I have). Thank everything for digestive enzymes.
If you’ve never experienced digestive issues, I pray you never will. If you have them, I’m deeply sorry. Only about three (out of eleven) of my body systems actually function the way they’re supposed to, and while mental health and fibro are the biggest bitches in my life, EPI is the one that ruins my day the easiest. I did not understand the importance of a fully-functioning digestive system until mine quit functioning.
The things I’ve seen.
My word, the things I’ve seen.
You really do not want to know.
Believe me when I say that you have no idea how gigantic of a blessing taking a normal shit is until it stops happening in your life. Prior to diagnosis, I was pretty constantly having feast or famine (aka constipation or unholy diarrhea) when it came to my shit, on top of consistent bloating and nausea. I also started vomiting like once a month, then once a week, then basically every other day until I got my meds. When my mom started going through the beginning stages of her EPI, I was genuinely concerned that she would die because she’s diabetic and constant shitting and vomiting means you can’t control your blood sugar very well.
I’m not kidding when I say EPI can kill you. It’s like dysentery, but slower, and it’s not a germ that’s at fault. It’s your stupid fucking pancreas. I hate my pancreas. He’s a little bitch.
Anyways, I’ve finally gotten mostly back to normal now that I have treatment for my EPI, but there are still some things that are… sketchy.
My poop is finally solid again (which was never something I thought I would be genuinely happy about???), but it’s not as regular as before my digestive woes. I go less frequently with more mass.
I think it spends more time in my gut than it used to because my body needs all the extra help digesting food, so it has more time to fester and get stinky.
It’s not usually awful, but you definitely wanna wait five or so minutes before walking into the same bathroom. My friend waited like a minute and a half. It was like a whole pound of poop. Not a pleasant smell.
I am so sorry for the atrocities my body has committed against humanity. May your nostrils rest in peace, friend.
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halorocks1214 · 3 years
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the topic of abusers redeeming themselves is very grey and for a lot of good reasons
yes, everyone deserves a second chance if they truly regret their actions and want to change. there needs to be spaces for those people so they can grow out of their previous behaviors and mindset
no, the people they hurt are under no obligation to feel bad for them or forgive them. those people are under no obligation to even be near them if they don’t want to be. abuse is a horrific and traumatizing thing to go through. it is a permanent scar on someone’s mental state they will never get rid of 
while i can’t speak for others, my issue with c!dream apologist rhetoric has never been “abusers are not allowed to change”. i do not believe in a ‘one strike and you’re out’ system, not even for the most reprehensible actions. reform is always the best way to stop people from committing horrible acts such as abuse
the issue is that a hard majority of c!dream apologists i have seen have said something along the lines of “he didn’t mean to” or “he was doing bad things to achieve good goals” or god forbid “c!tommy deserved it”, followed by apologists who don’t believe those things saying “not ALL c!dream apologists believe that!!”
you’re right, generalizing is bad, but the fact of the matter is that i have seen multiple users having to block thousands of accounts because all of them have said “c!tommy deserved getting abused” in some way shape or form. i constantly see essays talking about how “saying c!dream deserves c!q’s torture makes people in this fandom feel uncomfortable” (which is fair to point out, imho), but then when it comes to c!tommy and the extremely blatant victim blaming the fanbase has towards him, i see way more “it’s just a story, stop taking it so seriously” arguments, which 💀
all you would need to say is that c!dream doesn’t deserve the torture, and that he needs a healthy space to change. most people i know wouldn’t disagree with that idea. but no, we have people saying c!dream canonically admitting to enjoying driving a traumatized person into suicidal ideation, as well as wanting to murder another one, was “justified” and “he was always secretly the hero”
fiction isn’t reality, yes, and that is because people are usually smart enough to draw a line between the two. when we have so many young people constantly spouting about how the canon storyline we are supposed to be analyzing is that c!dream’s abuse was a good thing and needed, well 🤐
this isn’t safe rhetoric to be sharing en masse. i’m sorry, but it really isn’t. the idea that abusers are poor little beings forced to abuse their victims is literally an argument abusers use themselves. c!dream apologists are not abuse apologists, but that doesn’t mean the things they say can’t be sketchy as all hell
also i feel the need to add a big fucking asterisk saying that abuse is deliberate and an active choice. you are not automatically an abuser if you hurt someone in the past. even if you hurt them a lot, if you didn’t do it on purpose, it is not abuse. you were toxic and unhealthy, sure, but not an abuser
please don’t conflate the two, because they have vastly different connotations
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ptergwen · 3 years
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Hey could you write one where the reader helps tom, who's heavily drunk, get home? Somehow tonight he's a sad drunk and cries about random things to the reader it amuses the reader, but later surprised when tom cries saying that he thinks the reader is dating someone else because he saw the reader going out with a guy days before??
warnings: lots of drinking mentions and swearing
a/n: woah this is pretty long 😭 got a little carried away heh enjoy
-
“you’re where?” you ask into the phone, eyebrows furrowed as you try to make sense of tom’s drunken speech.
he seems to have gotten himself into a little bit of trouble. all his critical thinking skills blocked out by the alcohol, he ended up calling you. you’re now determined to find out where your friend is and help him home. tom has a track record for doing stupid shit when he’s drunk.
“th’ pub,” tom slurs back. “you wanna join me? have a drink?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. he’s leaning on the bar, but his arm slides and draws an oh, shit out of him. so he doesn’t hear your giggling, you put a hand over your mouth. “y/n/n, you coming?” he asks sort of desperately once he has his balance.
“yeah, tom. i’m on my way,” you reply and head to your front door, keys already in your hands. “hurry,” he commands, then takes a sip of beer from his nearly empty bottle. he’s not making this easy for you. the drunker he gets, the harder it is to drag his ass out of there. “i am, i am. see you soon.” you hang up with a sigh.
it doesn’t take you long to get to the pub, which is a good and sometimes bad thing, this time good. you find parking and speed walk inside. your eyes instantly scan the place for your buzzed best friend. he’s not hard to find in one of his signature white t-shirts, hair slicked back. he’s hunched over in the stool, and his head is down. that’s concerning.
the bartender is cleaning up a spill nearby him when you approach the bar. tom whines out a series of, “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, i’m really sorry,” to him. he’s crying. weeping would be more accurate. his whole body moves while he sobs into his arms. you sit down next to him and put a hand on his back.
he looks over at you with tears falling down his cheeks. “tom, what happened?” you frown, already turned to face him. his eyes water again. “i- i spilled my drink and it got all over and i feel so bad, y/n,” tom tells you in a high pitched tone, the bartender placing down another beer in front of him.
you shoot him a glare because he’s clearly had enough. he swings the rag he was using to clean over his shoulder and shrugs. isn’t part of his job knowing when to cut people off?
“thank you,” tom mumbles to the guy, who gives him a nod before tom grabs the beer off the counter. you snatch it away from him. “oh, no. that’s enough already.” you put his drink down on the other side of you. that encourages tom to cry some more, hiding his face in his arms for a second time. “no fair!” he yells and sounds like a child while doing it.
“you’re gonna have a really bad hangover, or puke this all up, or both,” you explain your confiscation to him. “probably both.” tom lifts his head up, eyes sad yet hopeful at the same time. he grabs your hand with both of his. “will you take care of me?” the question, mostly how he asks it, makes your heart clench.
“of course. let’s get you home, okay?” you stand up and loop an arm around his back. tom follows suit, you pulling him towards you and grabbing his jacket off the stool. “no, i wanna stay with you.” he insists, stumbling forward as you lead him towards the exit. you’re hoping he already paid because you don’t feel like that sketchy bartender coming after you.
“sure, you can spend the night. we haven’t had a sleepover in a while,” you agree, pushing open the door with your foot, arms preoccupied with tom. your offhanded joke makes him emotional again. there’s more to it, though. “it’s- it’s been so long,” tom sniffles out. “aw,” you chuckle and tighten your arm around him.
he used to stay over your place a lot before he moved in with the boys and harry. he misses being able to crawl into your bed and snore while you lay in his arms. you also miss it, so it’s funny how neither of you have said anything.
the tears in tom’s eyes make his vision blurry, which in turn makes him trip over a rock. “sorry, man,” he apologizes to it, you steadying him and letting out another laugh. he’s funny when he’s so far gone. “we’re almost at the car,” you let him know with a tiny smile. “‘mkay,” tom nods and wipes his tears away, leaning into you for the rest of the way there.
tom does fine for most of the car ride. there’s an incident where he gags and you almost pull over, but he ends up not needing it. he feels so awful he nearly puked in your car that it makes him cry yet again. you promise him it’s fine, that you don’t mind and everything is fine. you’ve never seen drunk or sober tom act like this.
you bring him straight to your room when you get home, dropping him on the bed and huffing. tom falls onto his back. he closes his eyes and purses his lips. “do you need anything?” you pant, answering yourself before he does. “you should have some water.” “ok,” tom mumbles and drags his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “ma’am,” he adds.
rolling your eyes, you make your way to the kitchen to get him a water bottle. you start to wonder why he got so plastered in the first place. seeing him in this state beyond worries you. you love tom too much to watch him fall apart. you really love him.
you come back to your room and flick on the lights. tom throws an arm over his head, mouth agape and a groan escaping it. “shit, sorry,” you giggle, shutting the lights off. “you’re a madwoman,” he rasps back. he sounds slightly more aware of himself now. “well, you’re a madman. here.” you toss him the water.
tom obviously doesn’t catch it, so it lands on his stomach. he rips off the cap and goes to take a sip while laying down. he’ll throw up for real this time if he does that.
“tom, tom, tom,” you murmur to yourself in a playfully disapproving tone. you take a seat next to him, tugging at his hand to get him to sit up. he smiles lazily and brings the bottle to his lips, watching a smile spread across your own face while he takes a sip. the two of you make eye contact for long enough that you notice something visibly shift within him.
tom looks down at his lap instead, taking his mouth off the water with a pop. he then exhales through his nose rather reflectively. you take notice of that, squinting at him in the dark. “what?” you wonder aloud. a few seconds go by without tom saying anything, deciding if it’s worth bringing up. he figures he might as well say it because it’ll come out eventually.
“the other day,” tom starts, voice deep and alcohol still in his system. “were you out with someone? a guy?” you’re not quite sure what he’s referring to. “huh?” is all you say back. “harry was picking up dinner, said he saw you on a date at the restaurant.” he gets quieter during the second part, almost upset. you sit up from the comfortable position you were in.
“harry was there? i didn’t know that,” you tell him as you try to piece together the story. tom takes that as confirmation. “so, you were on a date?” he caps the water and throws it somewhere on your bed. “i need another drink.” “it wasn’t a date- hang on.” it finally clicks with you why he was getting wasted by himself in the latest hours of the night.
“you were drinking because you thought i went on a date?” you ask tom softly, another smile pulling at your lips. “um...” he blows out of his mouth and nods, still nodding as he speaks. “yeah. made me feel shitty.” what you said now registers with him. he perks up ever so slightly. “but, you said it wasn’t a date?” “no,” you quickly dismiss. “he’s in one of my classes.”
“we were working on an assignment, and i thought having him over would give him the wrong idea.” you’re grinning by the end of your explanation because of what you feel is about to come next. tom beams back at you, moving closer to you on the bed. “good,” he affirms and brings a hand up to your cheek. his wide pupils search yours, thumb brushing your skin.
“‘cuz i like you, and love you.” his voice drops to a whisper. “love you a lot.” “i like you too,” you breathe out, enjoying the way his warm hand makes your skin tingle. “and, i love you.” “wish i knew that before i got fucking pissed,” tom mumbles, but seems unbothered because he leans in to kiss you. you’re met with his beer breath before giving him a push back.
“speaking of, you’re still drunk,” you laugh and comb your fingers through his matted curls. “i’m not,” tom protests, ducking away from you. scoffing, you retract your hand with a knowing look. “you are. i can smell it. we should go to sleep, tom.” he caves and lays down, letting his head fall in your lap. “fine. can we at least cuddle?”
he’s relentless.
but, you say yes.
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