#how to feel secure about yourself

[i-am-obscuram]

Insecurity Leads to Dogma

Insecurity is a feeling that plagues many of us at one time or another. It can lead to a wide variety of behaviors and attitudes from toxic masculinity to narcissistic traits. One of the strangest aspects is when a person fosters dogma or a dogmatic way of being.

*It’s important to note that dogmatic behaviors, rigidity, or inflexibility can be displayed by neurodivergent individuals. Often times those behaviors are linked with their ability to function in life. With that stated this article does not speak upon the experience of neurodivergent individuals, but it may support neurodivergent individuals to navigate and understand neurotypical behaviors.

What is dogma?

Dogma can be defined as having a set of beliefs accepted as true without question. Where as being dogmatic is the behavior of sticking strictly to those beliefs and refusing to consider other viewpoints, evidence or new information. In short, dogma is about creating firm beliefs, and being inflexible about them even when they are not true or don’t work. It’s most notably found in typical religious settings and tends to be very pronounced in cults.

Dogma Style

When individuals feel the need to pontificate or express judgments in a way that is based on their beliefs and not reality, it often stems from their own deep-seated insecurities. As I was reflecting on this, a memory of a landlord-tenant dispute came to mind.

During the situation the landlord brought in a person notoriously known for favoring landlords in testing for hazardous materials. As this person conducted tests. The inspector attempted to have an air of superiority and attempt to give a false sense of security as he proceeded to pontificate about what he knew. However research is one of my strengths especially when it comes to health and wellness in addition to protecting my daughter. On top of that I create handmade jewelry and accessories. For the safety of myself and clients, I have done lots of research into lead and other materials like that which I avoid using.

Click to checkout my shop on Poshmark and Use Code: YEWENCHIE to get $10 OFF *Code is only good for your first time using Poshmark.

The sad truth is I actually knew more than him about lead and did the “yes and” off of most of his statements to bring in the actual data.

Also as he was doing the work he was watching to see if I was buying the act, which I clearly wasn’t.

It was during this encounter that I realized the true nature of dogmatic individuals. They are often quick to share their opinions, even if they are based on false or exaggerated information. Utilizing the "yes, and," technique allowed me to challenge their dogmatic assertions and expose the weaknesses in their beliefs without throwing them under the bus or creating an argument.

Why do people gravitate to dogmatic personalities or establishments?

To go into a wide variety of reasons who fill a book, but one reason is human nature's tendency to desire to be under leadership due to an internalized feeling of not being enough. With feeling insufficient (insecure) comes the nomination and clinging to someone or something one feels can bring that feeling for them, even if it means accepting flawed ideologies, misinformation / outright lies, double standards, and opening ones-self up to more problems as described in the Biblical texts of 1 Samuel 8: 4-9

So It’s fairly clear that those who follow dogmatic leaders often lack due diligence in examining their lives and evaluating the validity of their statements or the ones they chose to pedestalize or worship.

When confronted with dogmatic individuals or confronting our own inclinations of being dogmatic, it is crucial to ask ourselves critical questions:

Are they self-refuting in their statements or am I doing this?

Do they seem genuinely happy, or are they constantly making excuses/blaming others for the shortcomings in their own lives?

It is essential to see beyond the facade they present and consider what those closest to them have to say.

Are they comfortable presenting their flaws, or do they only show a carefully constructed image?

Am I (or are they) considering alternative viewpoints and open to changing my mind with new information?

How can I engage in a more open dialogue and venture outside the echo chamber without getting upset or triggered?

Why is dogma a thing?

It provides a sense of safety, security, and structure. For those in religious settings, it gives a person the ability to defer responsibility to what they consider a higher authority. That higher authority figure then functions to do the speaking and thinking for the people under them. It’s reflective of or a carryover from the parent child relationship. Since the higher authority is held in a position of being greater, worthier, and better everything proposed or stated must be held as uncontested truth. To contest that is a scary concept and equatable to disobeying a parent.

This nuance of dogma highlights immaturity as an aspect of insecurity.

For those who behave dogmatically and are rigid to their beliefs its the unwillingness to deal with change, which can be scary. Change can lead to a sense of instability which can leave someone feeling insecure.

For some, especially neurodivergent individuals the lack of a set structure can be extremely detrimental to their way of life and ability to function.

What can secure behavior look like?

Neurotypical secure behaviors, true strength lies in the ability to acknowledge our mistakes and take accountability for them. Only the strongest individuals can openly admit when they have messed up. We are all human, and it is through embracing our humanity that we can grow and learn from our experiences. When leaders embody this kind of strength and authenticity, the tendency for online lynch mobs, blame as an excuse for violence, and judgmental behavior are greatly reduced.

This concept reminds me of a timeless story, one where Jesus confronts a crowd ready to cast stones at a woman. Jesus challenges them by asking which among them is without sin. None of them can claim to be flawless, and in realizing this, they are compelled to put down their stones. The religious dogma at that time gave them the authority to take a life and ignore their own flaws until called out on them. Our culture, especially in religious, has much to learn from this story, as we often forget that no one is immune to making mistakes. We all have our skeletons in the closet, and it is through compassion and understanding that we can build a more empathetic society.

What can you do to restore your sense of safety and security?

Have more gratitude, for changes for the little mundane things as well as the exceptional in your life. This can be done through utilizing a gratitude journal Reduce exposure to stressors and stress can be addictive! Check in on how you feel after visiting a social media platform, watching the news, etc do you feel uplifted or brought down, upset, agitated, or angry? Time to step away and spend more time on self care, such as healthy self talk, time in nature, or anything that supports you in being a better person to yourself and others. Try a Stress Coach to remove the stress addictions Click Here for one that I’ve interviewed.

Try a guided meditation like this quick one below to develop a sense of safety and security when you don’t have much time.

In summary, insecurity can manifest in many ways, and the focus of this is on dogmatic behavior. When individuals feel a lack of confidence, they may resort to expressing rigid opinions and judgments. However, without recognizing the reasons behind why these behaviors we are unable to do much to change it. We get to approach dogma and dogmatic behaviors with critical thinking, curiosity, and empathy. By doing so, we can encourage open dialogue, foster understanding, and dismantle the culture of dogma that permeates our society.

Remember, none of us are flawless, but it is through acknowledging our faults and embracing our shared humanity that we can pave the way for a more prosperous world.

☕️Buy Me A Coffee ☕️

AMAZON ASSOCIATE LINKS

Try Audible Plus Register a SNAP EBT card Audible Gift Memberships

[uncanny-tranny]

Healing can look and feel a lot like pain, so it's hard to imagine this being a good sign. However, I think feeling like it's getting worse can be a sign that you're healing and you're making progress.

I've been noticing in myself that I feel a whole lot worse ever since I actually... acknowledged I have a lot of healing to do and that I am unwell. I actually allowed myself to entertain the idea, and it's opened the floodgates to me finding out just how bad it got. I'm grateful in a way that I'm getting worse now because I have the ability to heal.

If it feels like it's gotten worse, maybe it could be because you're making your way out of the storm. It's going to be okay.

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

thinking about the elections tonight... bad, cellbit, baghera, and forever are four candidates who are devoted to the island- more specifically, to the residents of the island. They care for the eggs, and they care for each other, and the way they exhibit that care through their primary presidential strategies is fucking fascinating.

Bad is who I watch the most, so I know him best. He's a classic mother hen. He doesn't like to take risks with the eggs, and he likes to prepare. If there's any sort of variable that could hurt an egg then he wants to control it. They have a stable relationship with the federation right now- it's not great, but they know the parameters. Don't trust cucurucho. don't follow cucurucho. send the eggs to NINHO every time there's a threat. the time of day changing means you need to run. Other than that they're p okay and roughly safe. But adding a president could potentially change everything. What if the president makes a rule that makes it easier to kill the eggs? And what about the way a president could cause tensions between the players to rise even higher? The dynamics of the island could change drastically. It's safer to neutralize that threat before it ever becomes a threat. It's easier to stop a war before it can start.

Baghera's primary concern is the way the election is designed to pit the residents against each other. All of them know that the Federation is a threat and she, like Bad, is focused on not letting them hurt more people. But, unlike Bad, she's less resistant to change. If the power is spread to multiple players rather than just one, it will be harder for the Federation to corrupt any one of them. Each time before the Federation has gotten to someone it's done so by isolating them. Felps, Cellbit, Jaiden- they've all spent a lot of alone time with Cucurucho. A council isn't just to consolidate the ideals of the island; a council would protect the players themselves. Sure, there might be disagreements and arguments, but they've had those before (and they're having them now!) and there's no reason to think they wouldn't be able to get through them again.

I hit a bit of a wall with Forever and Cellbit's pov here. Everything I know about their plans are from the debates and paraphrased discussions that have been translated here on tumblr, I'm going to talk less about their explicit plan and more about what the result will entail- a single president who takes responsibility for the island. It seems to me like they've recognized the presidential seat as the powerful opportunity that it is, and they want to take advantage of it. Here's some extra personal speculation but, adding rules, adding or removing mods, proposing public works, enforcing laws- those are just the abilities that are listed. Those are incredible opportunities to make the Federation take action, which is more than they've had before. We've seen before that the Federation isn't perfect; the Federation makes mistakes.

By working with the Federation, by making them take action (in a semi-controlled, semi-predictable way) you open them up to more opportunities for them to fuck up (while benefiting you). And, maybe, one of those fuck ups will be the key to taking them down. Maybe they could reopen ender chests. Maybe they could open the nether. Maybe they could learn why the Federation is holding an election in the first place. It's possible to do all these things with Baghera's plan, sure, but that's not a guarantee and, if someone like Bad is on the council, there's absolutely no way to be sure it would get done. And, if there's a council, then that opens up everyone on the council to the Federation's wiles. If there's just one president, then that's where the Federation's focus will be. By using a single person to build a relationship with the Federation, they only risk that single person. By electing ministers instead of a council, they can ensure that the island residents' needs are being heard while placing the federation's focus on that one person. A point can be made that they've done that before- with varying results. like kidnapping. selling your soul. etc. But! overall, I think they've gained more than they've lost by singling out one person. Because of them, we know that Cucurucho can't be trusted. We know that the Federation has a series of tunnels underneath the island. We know that the Federation not only has some sort of cryo technology, but had some unknown reason to use it. We know that there was another person working with Cellbit to take care of Felps (theorized to be ElQuackity), so we know there's at least one more Fed that isn't Cucurucho + blank-faced workers. There's been risk, but there's absolutely been rewards. This is just a very long meandering way to say that their plan to sacrifice Forever to the presidential seat reminds me very much of Cellbit's plan to sacrifice himself to the federation. They're saving their friends by potentially damning themselves and I, for one, think that is cool as hell.

they all care about each other so much. bad's plan means taking on no more risk. baghera's plan means spreading that risk evenly to stand strong together. and cellbit and forever's plan means taking the risk onto themselves so they can reap the rewards for others. am i reading too much into things? no this is tumblr and this smp is about LOVE and i really genuinely think that their election plans are a fantastic example of just how much they love each other

[ratatatastic]

samson and the curious case of the (hockey) proposals

[yaoiadderall]

ok i’m gonna be real here. i don’t get people who vehemently hate the mcelroy brothers and everything they’re associated with. it’s one thing to just not enjoy their content/humor/media presence but ive seen so many people go full on “these guys suck so bad and anyone who enjoys their stuff is an idiot and they’re cringe losers.” a lot of times its former fans. and it just makes me think about how deeply sad and insecure that person must be, to be so desperate to feel superior to random people who find joy in something ultimately harmless.

[twojamie-o-clock]

(this is going off of the s6b route in my head that goes from “save yourself” to “world game” (which I think is a pretty common path) but!!)

Do you ever think about how the first s6b companion DIES & how that sets the tone for the whole ‘season’……..like how Jamie is chosen maybe practically because he is allegedly “good at handling the rough stuff” or also somewhat selfishly because the Doctor knows it’s going to be so much more dangerous now……

and how that would explain why Zoe never crops up in s6b eu much until bigfinish steps in??? Like not just that she is so much safer than Jamie atp (on the wheel vs you know. a plantation or other consequences) but also bc s6b will lead to so much more danger and the Doctor knows this.

They actively know what they are roping Jamie into, and how that could go to show this sort of. “I love you enough to be WILLING to put you in danger” and this insane trust between them & the guilt the Doctor probably feels over all of it - but also the way they’re literally saving each other? Because Jamie was going to be unsafe either way, and in this the Doctor can, you know, be with him while experiencing different dangers. Working for the Time Lords of course won’t just be the odd visit here or there to save a planet but truly disgusting work that they care enough about to interfere with but are just ashamed enough to use the Doctor for it.

And all of this strikes you in the face and leaves you stinging because Serena died. Just like the Daleks’ Master Plan - which, like, outside of the show of course was the chaos of Doctor Who itself changing - starts off a very dark streak of companion deaths and chilling narratives through eu & tv canon until Steven’s eventual departure.

I wasn’t awfully attached to Serena, but it really shows Two how far the Time Lords will go & how little they care. The mysterious Players are never expanded upon but they don’t really need to be. This is a mission - approached as the Doctor’s first, I’m assuming was Terrance Dicks’ intention - where the Doctor’s assigned companion is another Time Lord. And yet she dies.

But it’s not just kicking off this era with a death that hits, it’s everything she represented - the narrow minded typical Time Lord who meets the Doctor & is so changed and enchanted by them that they begin to understand and unlearn their own programming. The hope that the Doctor might feel when they begin working for Gallifrey - maybe it will be alright after all, maybe they can make a difference, maybe being home doesn’t have to be so different from, say, their past family of Jamie & Zoe, because they too unlearned their own programming by traveling in the TARDIS. And then Serena dies. And while it isn’t entirely gloomy or haunting -

The way this ends is so….of course it’s intended to lead into the Two Doctors but it really says something to draw a reference to the dead companion who represented so much of the shape of s6b right next to Jamie….not to mention how quickly the Doctor uses her death to bargain for Jamie….god I really can’t say anything coherent about this. I just think Serena should get more of a highlight not just as a Time Lord “swayed” by the Doctor’s,,,eccentricities but as someone who affected them so much and their ensuing, new-ish relationship with Jamie. Again I think this can also sort of explain the general lack of Zoe in s6b even though it feels like wasted potential (I’m working on a Zoe s6b fic and,,it’s rough. I love her post-TWG eu so it’s a Time…) - not just because the Doctor is only allowed one companion, but because of this darker tone, for the plot and season as a whole as well as the Doctor and the foundations their reunion with Jamie is built on.

I’m not saying this is like my main headcanon for s6b of course, but it’s an interesting thing to entertain imo

[good-beanswrites]

Hello! I'd like to request "There's an 80% chance of this working out" from List 5 with Mahiru and Mikoto! Horoscope Girl and Tarot Boy...what will they do...

Ooh this one was so fun, thank you!! It was really neat learning about tarot :0 (It'll take a bit longer, but I got carried away with the idea and also started writing something of Mikoto doing a reading for Fuuta hehe). It always makes me sad that Mahiru doesn’t trust Mikoto at first, so it was really fun to picture them bonding over things like this during T1! I never thought of them having that in common and my mind has been opened to this duo asdfsdfds

“Alright, I’m going to need you to manifest your energy as hard as you can.”

Mahiru squeezed her eyes shut. Her face scrunched up in concentration. She let out a little hum of effort as she poured all her emotions into the card deck under her fingertips.

“Uh… maybe not that hard, Mappi.”

She looked up with a giggle. “Right, right! I’m just so curious!” Well, she was curious about how a tarot reading itself would go, not about what it would tell her. Mahiru was fairly confident of her upcoming verdict, and the cards would only confirm it. So far only one prisoner had been named guilty, and everyone could see he was just a bully. Mahiru was nothing like him. She would be forgiven. She just knew it. 

Mikoto started shuffling the cards. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, yes!”

To be honest, she’d had her suspicions about Mikoto for a while. His smile was too perfect at all hours of the day. (Even someone as cheery as her knew a smile like that couldn’t be consistently real.) She’d seen enough cheaters who chatted as easily as he could with everyone here. His nicknaming habit was a cute one, but she was keeping her eye on how informally he acted with little basis for friendship. She knew for sure he was a dangerous flirt when he’d grabbed her palm to read her fortune, launching into talk of life and love lines. However, none of that meant he was lying about his tarot expertise -- so who was she to refuse his offer to read her cards?

Her eyes glimmered as she watched Mikoto lay out three cards before her. Though he used the same theatrics he had for the others, she was just as entranced. It was just so magical, she thought.

Mikoto circled his palms over the cards. “We’re going to begin by looking at the past and present to get a bit of perspective before we move on to what your future will hold, alright?” He’d already explained that the cards couldn’t read one’s future as much as they offered self-awareness. He said it was all about being in tune with oneself, and the world. She was sure someone like him was already perfectly aligned within himself, but she could admit her heart carried her away at times…

Mahiru held her breath as he flipped the first card. She studied his face for any trace of negativity. Seeing her worry, he slipped back into his usual smile. “For the past, we have the Reversed Page of Cups,” he said. “This suit deals with emotions and intuition.”

Mahiru nodded, excited at the accuracy. Her past certainly had its share of intense feelings. 

“This card in particular may mean emotional insecurity, or immaturity. It could also point to an avoidance of reality, something that’s not being faced head-on.”

She nodded, with a little less excitement this time.

“It also represents a specific person who influences you.” His face lit up, recalling Mahiru’s favorite topic. “Pages can represent a companion! Is there a romantic someone in your life who may have been causing some emotional insecurity?”

Picking up on the way her face paled, he said quickly, “or maybe not! They could be a messenger, or a childlike figure, or…” He reached for the next card. “Moving on, uh, to the present. Ah! This is a really good sign.”

She perked up.

“Here’s Justice. It’s fairly self-explanatory, representing the consequences that follow your actions. It’s about cause and effect, and accountability. It means things are happening according to karma, which is natural.”

He turned over the last card. “And finally, when looking to the future, we’ve got the Two of Swords. Swords deal with the mind -- conflict and communication. That’s… interesting.”

Mahiru’s eyes grew round. “What’s interesting?” She slid the card closer to herself, studying the picture. A blindfolded woman with two swords. There was water, and the moon. Was that bad? Was the woman unhappy? She was all alone. What did that mean?

“Don’t worry,” Mikoto soothed. “It just means you’ll make a big choice. Well, actually, it means you’ll get stuck, so you need to make a choice. I just thought it was funny, we’re here wondering about Es’ decision, but it turns out you’re the one who needs to make a decision.”

“Ah,” she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now we can look at the big picture. It seems like some of your past problems may have come from emotional issues, so you’ll want to keep an eye on your emotions going forward.” Mahiru shifted. “The fact that we pulled Justice should reassure you about being here. I’ve heard some of the others complain that they don’t belong here, or it’s all a mistake, but this card is showing you that it’s just cause and effect. The events of your life are running their natural course.”

It was true, even she had been unhappy that her actions were being labeled that of a murderer. After all, those were an entirely different breed of people, right? Someone like Fuuta, who was guilty. People like her and Mikoto could never raise a hand to another. It was good to know, then, that this was all meant to be.

“And going forward, you’re gonna want to make sure you’re being decisive. Face your problems head-on, and communicate. If you can do that, things will be alright.” He folded his hands on the table, finished his reading. 

Mahiru thought for a moment. A smile crept onto her face, growing larger and brighter by the second. She clasped her hands together. “That’s wonderful! Thank you so much for doing this. It��s told me everything I need to know.”

“Yeah?” He picked the cards up, shuffling them back into the deck. She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket, pointing to some lines scribbled down.

“Yes. I’ve been jotting down some birthdays, see? I’ve had to make a few guesses until I get more information, but if Es is either a Scorpio or a Virgo… as a Capricorn myself… we’re very compatible, look! Capricorns have excellent communication with both of those signs, and you said that’s what I’ll need to get through this tough decision.” She turned the paper over to reveal more notes. “On top of that, my extraction is scheduled right before my birthday, during Capricorn’s governing period. At that time, things will be aligned more in my favor.”

Mikoto’s eyebrows raised at her notes, impressed. “Wow! You have this all worked out, huh? If that’s the case, you seem very prepared to have a successful interrogation.”

She steepled her fingers. “I’d say there’s an 80% chance of this working out!”

“Definitely!”

He returned her beaming smile. Things would be perfect. Nothing to worry about.

[keeps-ache]

i have Thoughts

[lovinggreeniehours]

really random post sponsored by me almost sleeping on the couch but man what if esper fell asleep on sylus's couch. idk

[novadreii]

a perfect example of Men Tell You Who They Are Early On You Just Have To Listen With Your Ears Not Your Heart Nor Pussy:

tim pretty much telling alex at the beginning "yeaaaaaah at the first sign of conflict i'm out. i don't do all that." and that's precisely what he did.

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

2 & 3 from section 1 for peri and 7 from whichever section has a more interesting #7 for diodore -moss

oooh these are fun ones!

2. Describe their tent set-up (outside and inside) (Peri)

I think Peri's tent is constructed similarly to Gale and Astarion's (boxy, fabric walls, little covered area outside). Deep blue fabric w/ golden astronomical embroidery, mostly the sort of thing you see on star maps. Little golden tassles around the edges of the tarp (?) and the doorframe. He'd have a small, circular, dark wood side table short enough that you can use it sitting on the ground, and a dark blue pillow next to it; there would be some parchment and a bronze miniature astrolabe on the table. The inside would be just. full to the brim with the gaudiest night-sky-themed pillows you've ever seen. No bedroll, no palette, just a nest that would put those cube pits in trampoline parks to shame. There would be two bird perches for his familiar Medani: one taller one next to his tent and one shorter one under the overhang. The shorter one would have a crow-sized bow-tie hanging from it. Rugs on rugs on the outside area ofc. 3. What would their character quest be titled? Why? (Peri)

This is a hard one! His tav ending involves taking over the Waterdeep arm of the Harpers, so I think his arc would have something to do with that. He'd be pretty bitter about being dropped into another near-apocalyptic mess when dealing with the last one a few years prior was supposed to be a one-time thing. Something-something ptsd in a world that doesn't have the words for that yet, something-something 'once a hero always a hero', something-something the weight of responsibility...he's a planeswalker so I think part of it would be whether he decides to stay on Toril long-term and directly help rebuild the Waterdeep Harpers or if he continues to run travel around afterwards, so maybe The Far Traveller/The Far Walker?

Harpson/Fae-son are also potential options. "Fae-son" nods to him being a changeling without it being super obvious (like Astarion's "The Pale Elf"). It would also mimic his backstory reveals from RoT ("oh he's not 'from here' so, like, the Feywild" -> "OH he's not from here"). 7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one? (Diodore)

Buckle up because we're in for a long one here. I've thought about Dora's story arc a lot because she's the first of my tavs that I truly made for the game while having full control over her backstory, etc. (versus Corentin, who had their arc baked into the story as a durge). Dora's a paladin of Corellon (oath of ancients) and her story arc as a companion would have to do with whether or not she should accept capital-r-Redemption, the process by which a drow can be truly "freed" from Lolth and rejoin the ranks of the rest of elven society. It involves all of the Redeemed drow's memories being erased and them being reincarnated as a surface elf. The implication seems to be that without that, regardless of a drow's actions, they'd be thrown back to Lolth when they die? Or at least that their eternal fate is unknown (which is the way I prefer to think of it for. personal reasons). Under normal circumstances, Dora would be a long way from Redemption being presented to her at all (she's not even 200 yet and has only been on the surface for a couple decades), but like with the other gods' Chosen among the companions, near-apocalyptic circumstances tend to speed up those sorts of things.

Of course, you'd have the themes of faith & relationship with deity when they're all unequivocally real and are also mostly all assholes; maintaining or breaking generational cycles; facing the unknown; morality when none of your choices are "good" (and how that interacts with morality vs self preservation); power vs freedom; identity outside of the people who made you; etc. The choice would first be presented to her sometime in late Act I/early Act II, likely the first long rest after the group resurfaces from the Underdark and you've probably gotten some of her backstory already. I have no idea how Larian would have characterized Corellon, but he's considered one of the more benevolent/open-minded deities iirc, which could be interesting to see contrasted with Mystra, Vlaa'kith, and Shar. How much that open-mindedness would extend to a drow, even one who has been a faithful follower even before she escaped to the Surface (and who inherited that faith from her father), is unclear. At the beginning of the game she would be leaning towards accepting Redemption, despite her own misgivings about whether or not she would still be her in that case.

Her final decision (at the ending pier scene) would depend on the relationship she has with the PC and the other companions. Her best ending, imo, would be her not accepting Redemption but continuing to be a force for good. If she has a good relationship with the PC, she would have something to lose. I think seeing the House of Mourning would affect her too. After all, the thing Corellon is offering to her as a way to find peace is the same thing the Sharrans are using as a way to manipulate and control others.

She's viscerally aware of how she was socialized and very actively chooses "good", so pushing her towards a darker path would be incredibly difficult but not impossible. If you side with the goblins she'll leave immediately, and turn on you if she's in your party when you attack the grove. But if you decide to try and control the cult in Act II, depending on your over-all actions before then and how you've interacted with her, you could disillusion her to the point of convincing her to break her oath. That path would entail convincing her that controlling the cult is actually the best idea. I'm sure there would be other times that her oath could break that wouldn't necessarily lock her into an "evil" path, especially with how Oathbreakers are handled in the game. Knocking out Minthara instead of killing her outright and letting Auntie Ethel go in Act I instead of killing her are two things that come to mind.

If she doesn't choose Redemption she would be at the epilogue party, of course. I'm a bit undecided on what would happen if she does choose Redemption. She may not be there at all, w/ Jaheira, Halsin, Minthara, and/or Astarion mentioning running into her in her new, reincarnated state. Or she would be there, confused, and mention how the PC seems familiar in a way she can't quite place. In that case, she would ask them how they know each other and mention something about feeling a twinge of grief looking at everyone, but that she doesn't know why she feels that way. It would be up to the PC how much they tell her (if they tell her anything at all).

[aeide-thea]

wot show is so obsessed with architecture and tbh i'm not mad about it???

[lesbianpikachu]

.

[todayisafridaynight]

it’s tough not letting people ruin your fun when there’s so many claiming that their opinion about a character is right and every other interpretation is wrong/bad

it's tough, but not impossible

[protobrieile]

ooooooo i am feeling particularly riled up about marginalized community infighting today

[slater-baby]

Money Shot

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!Reader

Tags - Squirting, voyeurism, toys, mentions of breeding

-

“Simon?” Price calls from the head of the boardroom, arms crossed in deep contemplation, “What do you think? Is it feasible?”

“Feasible? Sure,” He glances at the tactical plan with a minute shake of his head, “Advisable? Not so much. I mean, that structure is...what? Three, four meters? Unless the drop point is on the fuckin' roof, there’s no way the cunts won’t see us coming.”

“Hm,” Price grunts, running a hand through his beard. Around the boardroom, various members of the congregation shift in their seats.

“What about…” Gaz begins, and then, Simon hears it.

BZZ.

“Goddamnit,” he whispers beneath his breath, leaning forward in his chair to pull his phone out of his pocket. Just recently, he’d installed a set of cameras about the house and porch.

‘Just for extra security, love,’ he’d told you. Since you moved in with him—and what with your name now written into his will—his time away on deployment and in the office had become…a liability, to say the least. 

On a good day, Simon didn’t like to leave you by yourself. But for extended periods of time? When he couldn’t so much as pick up the phone to send you a text?

His fried nerves had all but demanded it. The cameras were his only failsafe. His only means of connecting with you, even when you were oblivious to it. In his mind, when he was deployed to some desolate war zone, slumming it in drafty safehouses, sustaining himself on MREs and cigarettes, then just seeing you quiet and content in your usual place on the sofa, flipping through a book or doing a face mask, would be enough to tide him over. 

Though, he’d failed to consider just how goddamn annoying the notifications would soon become.

Hurriedly, he glances at his phone under the table, halfheartedly listening to the meeting.

‘MASTER BEDROOM - MOVEMENT DETECTED,’ his phone so helpfully supplies him.

He scowls.

Movement detected. Yeah, right. Just like the other twenty times it’d told him that in the past hour alone. He digs his index finger into the ringer switch, but just at that moment, another notification comes.

And with it, another…And another…And another….

‘MOVEMENT DETECTED’

‘MOVEMENT DETECTED’

‘MOVEMENT DETECTED,’ it says to him yet again, as if he were an idiot too dull to even read.

“MOVEMENT DETECTED!! INTRUDER ALERT!!!” It seems to screech, “GRAB YOUR GUN, SOLDIER, THE DAY ISN’T OVER YET!!’

Annoyance climbing by the minute, Simon hurriedly flicks through his apps, all too eager to return to the meeting at hand. Within seconds, he’s staring at the grey display of your sparsely lit living room.

If anything, it’s a bit messy, but hardly remarkable. The TV is on, some soapy romance show still rolling in the background. There’s a pillow on the floor. The cat is lounging in a flickering patch of dying sunlight. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

He switches to the kitchen. Nothing but the hum of the old fridge greets him. And in the dining room, it’s a similar story. So, attention wavering with every word that Kyle speaks, he angrily flicks through the porch cameras and straight to the master bedroom. 

And that’s when he hears it.

The smallest, weakest little voice…

“God, Simon…”

At the sound—barely audible over the noise of Price’s lecture—his heart rate spikes.

Physically, he can feel his blood rushing, nerves shredding themselves to pieces as he hurriedly presses the rotate button on screen. Slowly—almost as if to taunt him—the janky camera begins to turn. And with every second longer he has to wait, darker possibilities begin to flood his synapses.

You’d fainted.

You’d fallen.

You’d broken a bone.

Or, perhaps the very worst, he’d find someone else standing over you.The exact reason he’d installed the cameras in the first place.

He waits with bated breath, practically unblinking, until he finds the source of the movement. The blankets atop the bed jostle, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees your familiar form swathed in pillows and fluff. Safe, warm, and most importantly, alone.

“Simon…” you say again—voice strained. Almost as if you were…crying?

Again, he glances at Price. The man is distracted, going on about the MTC once more. Surreptitiously, Simon looks back down at his phone, confused.

Were you sick? Laid up in bed with a fever?

No, somehow that didn’t feel like the right description. Last month, when you’d caught the flu, you could hardly stand to sit still. Simon practically had to chain you to the bed just to force you to get some decent rest.

Then, what could it be?

Did you miss him, perhaps?

At the thought, his chest warms. In all his years of service, Simon never had someone to miss him. He had his friends, sure, but they were his home away from home, the family he’d never known he’d find. Off service, however, before he’d met you, home wasn’t warmth. It wasn’t happiness. It wasn’t dear to his heart. Hell, it was little more than a house, with a sofa and television. 

But when you came along….

You, with your shining eyes, witty jokes, and unending support…

He’d never known that the most precious gift a man could receive is someone to come home to at night and to miss him when he leaves in the morning.

Fondly, he looks at his phone screen, hardly listening to the meeting at hand.

Within your cradle of old blankets and sheets, you shift, a whimper escaping your mouth. It echoes in the grainy speakers of his phone, and he hardly even thinks to lower the volume…

That is, until you move again, and the blankets fall down.

One of your arms pushes the blankets down, and suddenly, Simon has an eyeful of your bare tits. Naked, shining with sweat, and nipples raw from being tweaked.

Instantly, his eyes go wide, and he jolts forward to hide his phone in the shadow of the conference table. 

Not crying. Definitely not crying, his brain rambles, watching as the curve of your breasts squish into the mattress as you twist beneath the sheets. The flimsy fabric, threadbare after so many long nights together, wraps around your legs like a vice. 

And that is exactly when he sees it.

Your back arches way from the mattress and your entire body thrums with electricity, hips moving fast and hard, every roll just as desperate and jagged as when you slide into his lap during movie nights, unbuckling his belt before he can even think to open his mouth.

“Fuck!” You nearly scream—and Simon literally flinches, hurriedly whipping his head around to look at the other men.

“Simon?” Price suddenly questions, “You alright? Was that your phone again?”

“Um,” he begins tactfully, clearing his throat, “Yeah—just m’girlfriend walkin’ in front o’ the camera again.”

“Oh,” Price nods, “She doing alright? Haven’t seen ‘er recently.”

“Yeah—she’s…” he huffs, blindly rapidly down at his phone where you writhe against the sheets, fingers thrusting between your thighs.

“She’s doing…great,” he manages, swallowing thickly when you reach a hand up to squeeze your bouncing tits.

“Well, give ‘er my regards next time you talk to to ‘er.”

“‘Course, sir.”

“Now, back to what I was saying about the perimeter…”

With that, Simon holds his breath for a few torturous minutes. However, when the other men continue on as if nothing had ever happened, he surreptitiously leans back in his chair…and looks down at the phone again.

His hearing fades to nothing but a distant buzz, pulse racing in his chest, like his heart might explode at any moment. And even though he’s muted the volume, he swears he can hear your moans ringing in his ears, vibrating in his very bones.

In the black and white video, you throw your head back against the pillows, hips jumping so hard the flimsy sheet falls down to your ankles. And soon enough, he can see every part of you. The softness of your heaving stomach, the sweat against your cheeks, the delicate shine of slick between your sweet folds…

Your entire body tenses, and undoubtedly you cry out again. He already knows what you’re saying, even if it’s all but silent in his hands.

His name.

You’re there, needy and alone, a wet spot between your legs on the sheets, shouting his name like there was any hope of him actually hearing it—as if there was any hope of him finding you,  filling you up, and giving you what you truly need. 

At that thought, pride wells up in his veins, hot and bubbling. And before he knows it, his blood is rushing south at an alarming rate.

“Please,” he can imagine you begging him, “Please….Please, Simon, just a little. Just the tip…”

You’d say it with heat in your cheeks and a pout on your lips, wrapping a shaky hand around his hip so that he couldn’t pull back, so that he couldn’t tease you any longer. You’d whine and whimper, tears gathering in your eyes, as you weakly pulled him forward, just enough to wrap one of those precious hands around his leaking cock.

You’d guide him forward like that—in a way he couldn’t deny—and you’d sit there, batting your eyelashes, sliding your wet cunt over the tip of his condom-covered dick, like that might tempt him just enough to take it off…to fuck you full and hard, until he was leaking out of your fluttering pussy and into your ruined panties.

He bites his lip.

You’d begged him before. On your knees, kissing the head of his cock. On your stomach, pushing your ass up against his hips. With your face buried in the pillows, nearly sobbing for it.

“Just once, Simon. Please—I promise. Just a little bit. Just the tip,” you said every time—as if those words made the act any better.

And, god, Simon wanted it. He wanted it so, so badly. To feel the warmth of your body, the heat of your bare skin against his own…to feel your pulse thumping between your legs as he fucked his cum right into the seat of your very womb.

So far, you hadn’t manage to take him raw just yet. If not because he had the patience of a Saint, then for the fact that your doctor kept rescheduling your birth control appointment.

Yet, looking at you now…

He breathes in low and deep, watching as your legs shake, toes curling.

The sheets fall off the bed.

And with another cry, you pull the dripping dildo from between your legs, curling your thighs together in absolute ecstasy.

Jaded, he looks at the damned toy. A cheap replica of his own cock. You’d given him a mould on Valentine’s Day—mostly as a joke…until next deployment came around, and you all but begged him to do it.

He still remembers how ridiculous it felt, looking down at your satisfied smile while you licked him clean afterwards, merely as a ‘thank you’ for all his hard work.

Beneath the shadow of your dangling calves, he can see the promise of your dripping cunt tucked between your sweet thighs. Desperate, wet, and wanting…

He scowls.

Pills, doctors, and implants be damned. If Simon had it his way, you’d be filled and sated, womb swollen with his seed, evidence of all the love he had yet to give you. It’s a tempting thought—one that nearly drags him into his mind once and for all.

However, a sudden movement on the camera catches his attention.

The toy is still in your hand. Strings of slick drip off of it and onto the flat of your thigh. With your other hand, you spread your abused folds, barely able to pull them back with how wet you’ve become. Impatiently, slide two of your trembling fingers into yourself, head tossing against the pillows.

“Please,” he swears he can hear it, “Please, please, please—”

You thrust into yourself ruthlessly, flecks of slick flying just at the movement. God, the sound of it must be nothing short of obscene. He can only imagine.

Your offhand tightens around the shaft of the dildo, and this time, when you tense up, the movement is so utterly enrapturing he swears he can see drops of saliva spill over your lips. You yank your hand out of yourself. Your stomach flexes. You yell into the bare room.

And that—that is when he sees it.

Suddenly, a rush of slick squirts out of your cunt and onto the bed, hips flinching as you soak through the sheets beneath your ass. Fuck, even through the horrible quality of the film, he swears he can see the walls of your pussy clenching, opening up around every wash of rushing liquid.

It splatters over your thighs, makes your toes curl into the sheets. The fabric sticks to your skin as you continue to ride out the waves of your orgasm, and when you reach a hand down to rub over your swollen clit, little spurts of it squirt over your naked body in time with every press of your fingers.

Before he even knows it—before he can feel ashamed for it—he’s rock hard against the fly of his jeans, cock pulsing beneath the fabric as he watches you lay panting and flushed in a puddle of your own cum. 

“Yes,” he sees your mouth move, cunt still dribbling onto the bedsheets, “God, yes…”

Hands positively shaking, you lift the toy again, clumsily rubbing your ruined pussy over its shining length.

And, god, he’s helpless to imagine himself in its place. Helpless but to imagine himself between your legs, covered down to his knees in your shining spend. Fuck, it’s intoxicating, and it hits him harder than any drug he possibly could have taken.

Listlessly, he looks at your beautiful face through the film grain…

“Simon,” you whisper to yourself, lazily rubbing your cunt against head of that stupid toy, “Simon…”

Easily, he gets lost in it. 

Lost in the sound of your voice saying his name.

Lost in the heat of your expression.

Lost in the need he feels welling up inside of himself…

Lost in the feeling of his hand palming over himself, hidden by the shadows of the looming conference table.

“Simon?”

The sound of his name—and in the voice of a man no less—makes him jump in his seat. On reflex, he closes his phone.

“What?” He answers cluelessly, slapping his hands down on the surface of the table, like he hadn’t just been thrusting into his own hand mere seconds before.

“I asked you what you thought about it,” Price jammers on, oblivious.

“About what?” he says.

At that, Price raises an eyebrow.

“About the risk assessment results. Y’know…what we’ve been talking about for the last five minutes.”

“Risk assessment,” he uselessly repeats, “Yeah. Well, I…”

Price scrunches his face, glancing between his asinine powerpoint and Simon’s covered face.

“Have you been listening?” He huffs, sounding bored.

“Of course,” he clears his throat, hurriedly absorbing the information on screen, “It’s just—I had a question about that. Must’ve left me for a second there…”

“Uh-uh,” Price glances at his wrist watch.

Simon swallows, cock pulsing rapidly in his pants. He scoots his chair in closer to the table.

“If we go in via the rear entrance, then—then I think would should recruit at least one more person for overwatch. Y’know…At the height of the lower wall, I think it might be possible to put a man on the roof. As—as contingency.”

“Sounds fine to me. You think they’d have a decent shot?”

“Well…” he blinks emptily, “At that angle, I think that...”

The clock continues to tick.

Soap yawns at the other side of the table.

Price looks as if he’d rather be anywhere else than here.

And Simon…

God, his mind is still stuttering, heart racing with adrenaline.

Distracted, he’s stuck on where his phone lies innocently atop the table…and what he knows is happening just beneath the cover of its black screen.