#i seen there was a generator to make these so i......
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
thankskenpenders · 2 hours ago
Text
The mystery of that random magenta-haired Sonic woman: solved?
For almost three years now, there's been a little mystery in the Sonic franchise: who the hell is this lady?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Well, it seems like fans have collectively pieced together the answer. And it's more interesting than I expected.
For those who don't keep up with Sonic lore minutia like I do, this is a screenshot from the very first episode of TailsTube, released on YouTube back in March 2022. When Sonic and Tails were explaining the basics of their Earth and the fact that humans and anthropomorphic animals coexist, Tails showed a slide of some human NPCs from Sonic Unleashed. But the slide also included this never-before-seen character design, drawn in a conspicuously different, more anime-influenced art style from the Pixar-esque Unleashed characters. So... where's she from?
At the time, it was assumed that she was probably from an upcoming project. She looks like she could be an explorer of some sort, so maybe she's just an NPC from Frontiers, I thought. And then she wasn't in Frontiers. Sonic Prime, maybe? Nope, no humans in Prime. Okay, well maybe the IDW comics are going to start incorporating humans, now that the "two worlds" thing has been undone and humans once again canonically exist on the same planet as Sonic and friends. Well, if she's gonna show up in the comics, it's been almost three years and we still haven't seen her. That'd be a hell of a lead time for comics, where production cycles are typically a matter of months, not years. Time continued to pass, and we still hadn't seen her. We just had Ian Flynn teasing us with a #KnowingSmile, assuring us that she existed for some reason, just one that he couldn't talk about yet.
Fast forward to late 2024, and she suddenly makes an appearance in the last place anyone would have expected: the third live action movie, via an electronic billboard in Shibuya.
Tumblr media
At this point it almost felt like the lore team was trolling us. Is this just a scrapped character design that's become fodder for inside joke cameos or something? Surely all of this teasing couldn't have been for a throwaway character design on a billboard in the background of a movie.
But actually, this billboard gives us an important piece of information: her name! She's labeled here as "Professor Tori." This is important because it connects her to a previous release. In Shadow Generations, Gerald's journal is prefaced with a note from the person who recovered it, addressed to the GUN Commander. In the English version, it's simply signed "T," but in the Japanese version... it's signed "Tori"!
Tumblr media
This gives us some actual info about Professor Tori. For one, she seems to work for GUN in their Archival and Requisitions Department. She's apparently also interested in learning about Gerald and Maria's lives, like their old friend Abe is.
Jump forward again to the New Year's episode of TailsTube, and this appears in the background.
Tumblr media
Her full name is officially given as Professor Victoria, and she's a historian. So, that seems to confirm everything we've pieced together so far.
As far as things we can reasonably assume to be correct go, this is everything we know for certain about Victoria. She's a historian working for GUN. Cool! But that's not what really fascinates me about her. For that, we have to do a little more speculation based on conjecture.
See, Shadow Generations also establishes information about the Robotnik family tree. Gerald had two sons. One of them took after Gerald's love of technology and became an expert in the field of robotics, and would go on to be Eggman's father. The other son took after Gerald's love of archaeology. This man would go on to be Maria's father. But, as Maria mentions in Shadow Generations... she also happens to have a little sister we've never met before.
So now, the question is: is this Maria's sister, Victoria Robotnik?!
We can't be 100% certain right now, but honestly, until proven otherwise I'm assuming that Victoria is Maria's little sister, now all grown up and working for GUN. It all lines up too neatly. The conspicuous reveal that Maria has an unseen and unnamed little sister, in the same game that establishes her dad was a history guy and also that there's this new historian working for GUN who just so happens to be really interested in her life. And also their names both end in "-ria." Come on!! Putting her in the Robotnik family would also explain all these cryptic clues about her identity. If she was just some random GUN agent, why be so coy and make fans piece it together?
I guess the most odd part here would be, y'know, Victoria working for the organization that killed her sister and grandpa. But Sega's been pushing the idea that GUN is trying to do better for 20 years now, ever since they established that the GUN Commander was Maria's childhood friend on the ARK and had him make amends with Shadow. Hearing that Maria's sister had joined GUN to try and gain access to information about her family history and undo the elaborate coverup of the previous administration would make sense to me, personally. And lest we forget, this would also make Victoria Eggman's cousin, giving him a family member in GUN. And that's a pretty cool storytelling tool to have on hand!
So, that's where we're at now. We have no idea where Victoria will pop up next, whether it's a game or a comic or another TailsTube episode or something else entirely. But it seems like she's fairly important, even if this speculation about her being a Robotnik somehow ends up being wrong. (But I'm pretty damn sold on this theory, personally.) Either way, it's exciting to see the human cast get fleshed out in fun ways again. If we're gonna have humans in Sonic stories, I'd rather they have anime-style designs and interesting connections to the narrative, rather than just being generic humans for the sake of having humans. I'm looking forward to seeing whatever the lore team's been cooking up here.
407 notes · View notes
rosecentaur1916 · 8 hours ago
Text
The irony is that I kind of had this happen. I worked at a Small Tobacco Shop in my home town for less than a year. The owners also own a party shop on the other side of town so that's why I said kind of... anyway! I had worked for them for 11 months or so and over that time even though it was decent pay (took a little over $600 home every two weeks back in 2018) they gave me a ride home every night (I had to walk everywhere as I had no car or even a license), and sometimes let me comp my cigarettes (I quit in 2020) they were mentally and emotionally abusive. So much so my direct manager, who was the youngest brother was so mentally and emotionally abusive to me a customer came in and asked if he had hit me! When that happened I knew something was wrong. I mean, I had a feeling when I'd have to close up the shop and go have a cry in the bathroom pretending I was using it. I was the only one running the store, but they had surveillance camera's up and would call me if they found any shoplifters (which price of anything that was shoplifted came out of my pay) or I was doing something I shouldn't be, which was barely anything. I was so bored because I had come from a small box pharmacy chain and was used to facing and cleaning quickly. I had gotten so fast at it that I had lots of time to spare and had seen in other small businesses that people read books or wrote or did a myriad of things between customers when the shop was empty. So, I started to read at first - got in trouble... so I couldn't do that anymore. Then I tried writing... had to negotiate to be able to keep that... it worked. Thank God... so I wrote. I wrote a lot. When I didn't have anything in my mind that needed to be written I started to do little exercises to keep the boredom at bay. Got in trouble for that too.
Yes, yes what about professionalism. Exercising, writing or reading in store isn't professional blah, blah, blah. I only did it between customers and when the story was emptier than a ghost town. I'd keep an eye out on the front of the store. There were so many advertisements for cigarettes you could barely see into the store, but I had gotten sharp at being able to see through the cracks when a customer was coming and made sure to make myself available, presentable and professional before they came in. Putting down my pen, or shoving my book under the counter. All of the abuse and boredom came to a head and I couldn't take it anymore. I was so beaten down that I could barely function at home... where I was *also* being abused. Something had to give - so I quit the job. My boss had the audacity to tell me I couldn't quit. He tried to give me back my professional quitting letter and tell me that I couldn't quit. I said okay, and never went back. Leaving behind a refurbished first generation iPod that he said later he threw away. Asshole. Lo and behold about six months later the Tobacco Shop was completely closed, storefront completely empty and every single part of the counter, displays and product stuffed into the party shop which was their first business. I had quit and the shop had gone out of business. I was astounded, because that means they couldn't find anyone else to work for them. I didn't know they were probably going to be unable to find anyone else, I just couldn't take the abuse anymore and quit for my own mental health. ...And that's the story of how I shut down a business by quitting.🤷🏻‍♀️💜
Tumblr media
41K notes · View notes
madebycloud · 1 day ago
Text
pt 1 | Not Even at All
jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: vi is off limits until her sister gets a date that doesn't end within the first ten minutes. eager to date vi, a certain girl approaches you with a proposal. date jinx. win her over. and for your efforts, she's willing to be generous. (10 Things I Hate About You AU) warnings/themes: fluff, kinda enemies to what, one sided fake dating, highschool, modern au, smoking (reader), kat!jinx, patrick!reader words: 5.8k notes: because of the age difference, caitlyn is in college that's why she's always on calls.. — ✩ part one, part two, part three, part four, part five
Tumblr media
You pick up at the third ring, hearing a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, good, you picked up.”
It's Caitlyn.
You put the phone down for a few seconds to eat your sandwich, before picking the phone back up. “What now?” you ask through a mouthful of sandwich. “I just woke up, y'know.”
The line is silent for a minute.
Then, you hear Caitlyn clear her throat. “Are you busy right now?”
It's 9am on Sunday, of course you're not busy. “Kinda busy eating my breakfast,” you reply, taking another bite. “Why?”
You hear some shuffling on the other end, some muttering, and another pause before Caitlyn speaks again. “I have… a proposition.”
A proposition already, and so early in the morning? you put your sandwich down, sitting up and making sure you heard that right. “I'm listening.”
Caitlyn clears her throat again, and there's sounds of footsteps and whispers in the background, as if she's moving somewhere more secluded. “…Do you know Jinx?”
It's a strange question. Pretty much everyone knows Jinx. “Yeah,” you reply. “Why?”
The shuffling resumes, a few footsteps, and the murmur of voices. “I'll cut to the chase. I'm asking for your help. I need you to do me a favor.”
You pause, raising an eyebrow. What does she want? “Depends on what it is.” You shrug. “And what I'd get in return.” You take a sip from your glass.
The murmuring on Caitlyn's end of the line stops, and you hear the sound of a door clicking shut. “I want you to take Jinx on a date.”
You nearly choke on your drink. “You want me to what?” you manage to ask between coughs.
“It'll be a fake date!” she says quickly. “If you can make this date go smoothly and… make her like you, even a little bit, I'll pay you a hundred dollars.”
Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “100 dollars?!” You cough again. “You can't just throw me under the bus like that. You've lost your damn mind.”
“Please just hear me out,” Caitlyn pleads. “It's not like you have to ask her to marry you. Just think of it as a challenge. You get 100 dollars if you can get her to enjoy a date with you. Come on, you're good with girls, aren't you?”
What does she think you are, some suave James Bond-esque ladykilling playgirl? while you’ve kissed a couple girls, you can't call yourself super suave. 
“Caitlyn, Jinx hates me.” It's common knowledge. Jinx hates nearly everyone, especially people she was in class with. “She's gonna kill me if I ask her out on a date.” You shudder.
“That's why I chose you for this,” she says. “I figured you were the type to face any challenge head-on.”
“This isn't just a 'challenge', it's a mission for the suicidal,” you retort. “You're setting me up to embarrass myself and get ridiculed in the process.”
You hear her scoff. “So you can flirt and tease the whole damn school, but a date with Jinx is the line you draw, is that it?”
You scowl at her comment. You’ve been known to flirt and joke around with a few people at school, but that’s all it is—meaningless flirting with no strings attached. This is completely different—this is Jinx we’re talking about. “You're comparing apples and oranges here,” you protest. “They're not the same, Cait.”
“Maybe,” she replies. “But I've seen how you've charmed your way out of trouble. You're good at talking your way out of things. And that's exactly what I need right now.”
That's true, but that’s with a teacher, or a TA, or a store manager who’s trying to bust you for shoplifting. Not with Jinx, of all people.
“Caitlyn, c'mon. She's either gonna punch me in the face, or call me a dumbass, or both.”
“Just listen,” she cuts in. “All you have to do is go on a fake date with her. You don’t have to actually like her.”
“No, no, no.” You shake your head, gripping the phone in your hand. “No way, no how.”
“150 dollars.”
“You really, really want me to go on a fake date with Jinx?” you murmur. “Are you that desperate?”
“I'm very desperate.”
You groan, rubbing your temples. “Why are you so fixated on me doing this?”
You hear movement on the other line, like Caitlyn's pacing back and forth. “Okay, look,” she begins. “I… really like her sister. Like really like her. Like…”
This wasn't just a fake date. It was a way to get closer to who she liked. “Oh. Ohh.”
“Yeah...”
Wow. This was a lot more desperate than you initially thought.
“But why don't you just ask her sister out?” you ask.
“I did.” She sighs again. “I asked Vi out last week, and she said she can't go on a date with me until her sister finds someone. Jinx has to be happy before Vi can go on dates, according to her.”
What the hell kind of ridiculous rule is that? “So let me get this straight,” you start. “You want me to go on a fake date with Jinx.”
“Yes.”
“Until she becomes my... girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
“And then you can date Vi.”
“Yes.”
It sounds crazy, ridiculous, batshit insane. “Holy shit, Caitlyn.” You run your fingers over your eyes, shaking your head to yourself. “All of this just so you can get laid?”
A huff comes from the other end of the line. “Are we making a deal or not?”
“Hey, wait a minute—I'm gonna need the money first,” you say, drumming your fingers against the table.
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah,” you explain. “You know, the whole dating thing. Dates, food, gas, that kinda stuff. You can't expect me to pay for all of that with my own money.”
Caitlyn doesn't respond immediately. You can hear some shuffling, and you can imagine her biting her lower lip anxiously, maybe staring out the wall.
“There's a high probability I won't even get a Harley after all this,” you add. 
Silence.
“So I'm gonna need the money...”
There’s a pause, then an annoyed hiss. “Don't you trust me?”
“Oh hell no. Give me the money first and then I'll consider the deal.”
She sighs. “Fine. Whatever, I'll give you the money.”
“All of it?”
“…Yes. All of it. All 150. For your shitty, awful fake date.” She huffs. “Deal?”
“Deal.”
You step into the office, finding Caitlyn’s mother already hunched over her laptop, staring over the rim of her glasses. You hated coming into this office. It always felt like you were in the principal’s office.
“I see we're making our visits a weekly ritual,” Mrs. Kiramman says, staring at you over her laptop. 
“Only so we can have these moments together,” you reply, your mouth already curving into a grin. “Should I, uh, get the lights?”
Mrs. Kiramman sighs, her eyes scanning over the paper in front of her. “Exposed yourself... in the cafeteria,” she mutters. “I seriously don't understand why my daughter associates herself with you.”
“It was for a good reason, I swear.”
“Oh, really?” She raises her eyebrow. “And what reason is that?”
“I was joking with the lunch lady,” you explain, spreading your hands out. “She was being snippy with me, so I started unbuttoning my shirt, it's not like I was actually going to flash anyone.”
Mrs. Kiramman takes off her glasses and pinches the bridge of her nose, her other hand coming to rest on her forehead.
“But I suppose if we've already looked through all my wrongdoings, you can release me back into the wild, eh?” you continue.
“Just... make it more than a week before coming back here, alright? I don't want to see you in my office every week—you're a walking headache.”
“Sure thing, Mrs. K.”
“And stop calling me Mrs. K.”
Jinx kicks the ball here and there, back and forth, side to side. She's taking all of her frustrations out on this ball, dribbling it down the field, passing it to her teammates, dodging opponents.
Her moment of peace is interrupted when a player tries to intercept her pass. She grins, dribbling out of the way and kicking the ball hard into the player's face. 
The coach blows the whistle. “Great practice, everybody!”
Practice over. Jinx tosses the ball aside. She rubs her eyes with the heel of her hands, a headache thudding against her skull. She bends forward to grab her water bottle from the edge of the field, taking generous swigs from the bottle.
Jinx is the captain of her high school's soccer team. She's good—really good. She has quick feet and a mean kick, and she's scored a lot of points for the team. In games, however… Jinx is aggressive. She kicks hard. She kicks fast. She kicks a lot. She does not pull her punches when it comes to her opponents.
She's halfway done guzzling water when a voice interrupts her.
“Hey there, girlie.”
Jinx pauses, swallowing the last of the water in her bottle. She glances up at you, watching you approach her as you shove your hands into your pockets.
“How ya doin'?” 
“Sweating like a pig actually,” she replies, pulling out a small towel and wiping her face. “And yourself?”
You hum, rocking back and forth on your feet. “I’m good. Just thought I'd come and chat with our wonderful captain.”
Jinx grumbles as she slings the towel over her shoulder.
“That was quite a performance out there,” you continue, raising a hand to give her a slow clap. “You were brutal today. Worse than usual, not-gonna-lie.”
Gathering her stuff, Jinx zips up her bag, slings it across one shoulder, then strides past you.
“Hey,” you say, quickly catching up to her. “Where are you going?”
“Where do you think, genius? I'm leaving.”
You huff, following her as she marches out of the soccer field. “Pick you up on Friday, then.”
Jinx makes a face at that. “Oh, right, Friday,” she mimics. “Uh-huh.”
You cock a smirk. “Well, the night I take you places you've never been before.”
“Like where? The 7-Eleven on Broadway?”
“Ha, very funny.” You shake your head. “And actually, no, smartass.”
“Do you even know me?” she asks, not slowing her pace.
You hurry to keep up and shrug. “Yeah, we have the same class on science.”
She stops in her tracks and turns to look at you, eyes flitting up and down, up and down. Once, twice, three times. “You're the one that never shows up in Mr. Viktor's class?”
“Hey, to be fair,” you say, putting your hands up. “That's an 8 a.m. class. No one shows up for an 8 a.m. class at ass o'clock in the morning.”
Her expression remains unamused as she shifts her bag's backpack strap further off her shoulder. “Except you're the only one who never shows up. You have the same attendance rate as Mr. Blitzcrank,” she tells you, turning back around to start walking. “Which is absolutely none.”
“What can I say?” You chuckle, jogging to catch up to her again. “I'm very talented. Gifted, even.”
She mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like “Talented at being an idiot, more like.”
“Hey, I heard that.”
“Good,” she says over her shoulder. “Maybe don’t try to impress me with your shitty grades and your non-existent attendance record next time, then.” Without a second glance, she continues walking, leaving you behind.
“Ouch!” you exclaim. “Rude, by the way!” you shout at her, and you see a flash of a smile over her features.
Jinx stands at her locker, gathering her books—a variety of books with names like Introduction to Rocketry, Engineering and Architecture, Chemistry Vol. 3: Chemical Reactions, Organic and Inorganic Compounds and Mixtures, and a few other engineering books, all with worn spines and yellow pages.
“Hey,” you greet.
She doesn't even glance at you as she continues sorting through her books, shoving what she doesn't need aside with a flick of her wrist.
“You hate me, don't you?” you ask, leaning against the locker beside her.
She gives you a side glance but doesn't fully look away from her locker. “What are you, five?” she asks. “I don't really care enough about you to hate you.”
“Rude.”
“It's the truth. As far as I'm concerned, you're better than a mosquito,” she says, continuing with sorting through her locker. “Annoying, but not something worth paying attention to.”
“Mosquito, really?”
She slams her locker shut and locks it. She turns to look at you, adjusting her backpack straps on her shoulders—a backpack that is covered in various patches and colorful pins. “What exactly do you want?”
“Spend Dollar Night at the track with me.”
She arches one eyebrow. “And why the hell would I do that?”
“Come on, the ponies, the flat beer... you with money in your eyes, me with my hand on your ass…”
“You covered in my vomit,” she cuts you off. “That's what's going to happen. If I go within ten feet of whatever greasy-ass food joint and cheap liquor you're going to take me to.”
“Damn, you're feisty. I kinda like that.”
She scowls at your words. “And you're annoying. I kinda despise that.”
“Ouch,” you mock. “And you're a bit more than feisty. You're like... feisty on steroids. Are you always like this?”
Her scowl deepens, and in one second, she suddenly has one of your arms twisted behind your back and pinned to your torso.
She leans forward, her face so close to yours. “Maybe, if you stopped annoying me,” she whispers. “I'd stop acting like this.”
You flinch, letting out a low hiss. “Ow, ow-” You try to pull away from her grip, but she only tightens it. “Ow, okay, I get it—let go, let go!” 
She holds you still for a moment longer before roughly releasing her grip. You stagger forward, rubbing the spot where her hand had been. “What-” you gasp “-the hell was that for?”
“Consider it a learning experience, dipshit,”  she snaps, before stalking off, her long blue braid swinging behind her.
“You can't just-” you start to call after her, but she's already halfway down the hall. You huff rubbing your sore arm. 
Yep. Jinx is as prickly as a cactus. This is gonna be harder than you thought.
“She's a freaking Ronda Rousey,” you mutter into the phone, massaging your throbbing arm. “She damn near twisted my arm off!”
“Jinx? Did she hurt you?”
“Just my dignity.”
You hear Cait chuckle faintly. “I'll take that to mean it didn't go very well?”
“You could say that,” you grumble. “She's difficult.” You watch your clothes spin around in the washing machine. “I think this may take longer than you think, Cait. Waaay longer.”
“I can't just flirt my way through this,” you go on, moving to grab one of the nearby magazines to distract yourself. “She's smart, witty, and sassy—the whole package. Very pretty, too. But she's rude.” You shift your phone to fit between your shoulder and ear.
“Rude,” you stress again, flipping to a magazine page with random trivia questions on it. “Who the hell is rude these days? It's all sugarcoating, bullshit, and fake smiles.” You glance idly at the question titled 'How Compatible Are You with Your Ideal Partner?'. You scoff, turning the page. “She's downright ruthless.”
“Have you even tried asking her out?”
“Hell yes I have. I even tried asking her to go to Dollar Night at the track.”
“You tried asking her to go to the race track?”
“You don't think she's a fan of ponies and alcohol?” you reply, grinning.
“I think she's a fan of punching you in the face.”
“Yeah, she did not like that idea.”
There's a pause on the line.
“Okay, I'll admit that wasn't the smoothest plan.”
“Or smartest,” Cait interjects. “Anyway, are you reading a magazine right now?”
“I'm at the laundromat.”
“And you're reading a magazine.”
“To pass the time,” you justify.
“Mhm.”
“I'm boooored.” You set the magazine down on a nearby chair, turning back to watch your clothes spin around. “And I'm tired of watching my clothes spin around. It's boring. I haven't had a good date in ages.” You move to rest your head against the glass. “I need something interesting. Someone interesting.”
Your eyes move across the storefronts and streets outside of the laundromat.
Wait… It can't be...
But, yes.
Yes it is. It's Jinx's car.
Your gaze focuses on the shiny blue vehicle before shifting to Jinx, who gets out of the car and walks over to a nearby music store just down the road.
You hear Caitlyn's muffled voice. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Yeah, Cait, I heard you,” you lie, taking your eyes off her car to turn your attention back to the washing machine and your phone. “Uh, I'll call you back. I think I just saw Jinx.”
Jinx pushes the entrance door open, juggling a small bag of CDs in one hand and rifling through her purse in the other. Her lips form a small 'o' when she finally pulls her keys out...
...and looks up to see you sitting on the hood of her car. She groans to herself.
“Nice ride. Vintage fenders.” You turn around to face her, leaning back against the hood.
Jinx stops a few feet away from you, shifting the bag of CDs to the other hand. “Are you following me?”
“Nah,” you shrug. “I was at the laundromat,” you pause, gesturing to the building in front of the store she just walked out of. “Saw your car. Thought I'd say hi.”
“Hi,” she grumbles.
Jinx walks over to her car, but you quickly stand ahead of her, placing yourself between her and her vehicle. “You're not afraid of me, are you?”
“Why would I be afraid of you?” she retorts, her nose wrinkling.
“Some people are,” you reply. 
“I'm not.” “Maybe you're not afraid of me… but I bet you've thought about me naked.” You smirk, taking the time to wink at her.
“Am I that transparent?” she mutters. “I want you... I need you... Oh, baby, oh baby.” Jinx rolls her eyes dramatically as she tries to step around you, but you shift your body to block her path again.
“Now, don't ignore me,” you tease.
“Let me pass, I have places to be,” Jinx says irritably, trying to step around you for the third time, only for you to once again move and block her.
“Come on now,” you urge. “Just a few minutes of your time.”
“You're being a pest,” she complains. “What do you want?”
“Just a little bit of your time, that's all,” you answer, holding your hands up in surrender before resting them back on the car. “C'mon. You don't have anything better to do anyway, right?”
“Piss off,” Jinx snaps, reaching out and grabbing the handle. The door swings open, throwing you off balance and causing you to topple forward.
Jinx throws the bag into the passenger seat, slams the door shut, and starts the car. She doesn't hesitate to throw the car in reverse, and you have to lunge out of the way to avoid being hit.
RUDE! You scowl in Jinx's direction, watching her drive away. With a sigh, you reach into your pocket and grab your phone, heading back into the laundromat. You begin to dial Caitlyn's number.
The phone only rings once before it's picked up immediately. “Well? what happened?” she starts without any sort of introduction.
“I just upped my price,” you declare.
“What?”
“200 dollars a date.” You stand your ground. “In advance.”
“And why are you increasing the price?”
You sigh heavily, rubbing your forehead. “I told you she's difficult,” you remind her. “She's prickly, short-tempered, and violent,” you explain. “I'm increasing my price because I'm taking a hell of a lot more risk dealing with her.”
“Forget it.”
“Forget her sister, then.”
Silence falls for a heartbeat. Then, reluctantly, she grunts. “Fine. 200 dollars a date. But I want results.”
“No promises,” you warn her. “And first things first, we need to find some way to make Jinx actually want to go on a date with me. How well do you know her?”
Caitlyn hums. “She's Vi's sister, so we have some, ah…” She searches for the correct word. “History,” she finishes awkwardly. “But I'm not an expert on Jinx's inner workings, if that's what you're asking.”
“Great.” That really wasn't the answer you were hoping for. How was it that Caitlyn was apparently able to make this plan without knowing anything about Jinx? “Do you think Vi would have anything?”
“...Maybe,” she responds slowly. “I could probably ask Vi.” She pauses. “Actually,” Caitlyn continues. “I might know someone who... might know Jinx pretty well.”
“Who?”
“Ever heard of a kid named Ekko?”
He glances over his shoulder at you, a paintbrush in hand. “What do you want?”
After a bit of searching, you're able to find Ekko at his usual spot—painting the empty space on the school wall. Some of your friends mentioned that he usually hung out here during free periods.
“I want to know about your friend... Jinx.”
Ekko rolls his eyes, resuming his painting. “Yeah, sure, stranger I don’t even know.”
You huff in annoyance. “Alright, listen,” you begin. “I'm not here to cause trouble, or gossip, or any of that. I…” you pause, shifting uncomfortably. “I'm trying to ask Jinx out on a date,” you explain. “So I thought you might be able to help me.”
That makes Ekko pause. He blinks slowly, slowly glancing back over his shoulder at you. “…You’re shitting me, right?”
“I'm not,” you insist. “I'm being serious, alright? and I'm not getting into some of the details, but I…” you pause awkwardly. “I kind of need this date to happen.”
“You need this date?” Ekko echoes, staring at you. “The hell does that mean?”
“I mean,” you reply, avoiding direct eye contact. “I just need it to happen, and for reasons I'm not going to disclose,” you add. “I need it to go really well. You get me?”
Ekko scoffs but nods his head. “Sounds like you're desperate or something.” He sets his brush down, turning around to face you. “Why Jinx, anyway?”
“I…” you start, not really sure how to explain this to Ekko without spilling every detail. “Let's just say my reasons are my own.”
“Hm.” He studies you up and down. “First off, who the hell even are you? how do I know you're not some creep trying to take advantage of Jinx?”
You open your mouth to defend yourself, but then close it and sigh. “Okay, you have a point,” you admit. “But listen,” you soothe. “I'm not a creep. I'm a senior student, like you and Jinx. I want to ask Jinx on a date, and no one really knows her all that well, so I thought you could help me because she's your friend-”
Ekko shakes his head, picking up the brush once again. “Nah we're not that close anymore.” He gives you a sidelong glance. “Jinx and I used to be close friends a few years ago,” he explains, returning his attention to the painting. “But things between us… got complicated.”
Juicy. But that’s none of your business, and definitely not Ekko’s place to share. So you move on, clearing your throat. “Right. Um… Okay, so back to Jinx,” you begin. “You still know her better than most, right? you must have some good insight on her.”
“I don't know,” he replies slowly. “Yeah, I know a bunch of things about Jinx. But… honestly, there's just as much that I don’t know.” He starts painting again. “She changes her mind like… every five seconds. She's unpredictable. Reckless. Wild. Dangerous.”
“I'm not here to psychoanalyze Jinx,” you clarify. “I just need to know… how the hell to even talk to her one-on-one, without her throwing a pencil at me or something.”
Ekko snorts. “Oh, that's easy.” He glances at you through his eyelashes. “Good luck.”
“Of all the places you want to meet up, you chose here?”
You straighten up and glance over at Caitlyn, who's standing off to the side, looking around the place. She looks rather out of place here, especially compared to the other customers in the pub—greasy-looking old men, rough-looking teenagers dressed in leather and denim, and drunken bums hanging around the slots.
Caitlyn grimaces as another patron spits tobacco juice to the floor. “Gross…” she mutters, wrinkling her nose.
You shrug, taking a puff from your cigarette. “You're never late,” you reply. “And this place is never busy. Figured it would give us privacy.”
“Right.” Caitlyn takes a seat on a nearby stool, folding her legs neatly. “So… how's Ekko?”
You line up the cue ball to the 8, taking one last look down the table before glancing at Caitlyn. “Um… he's good,” you reply. “A bit unhelpful, but that's alright.”
You aim the cue ball at the 8 again and give it a good hard smack, watching it glide across the table. It hits the 8 ball, which rolls a few inches before stopping. Damn. You’re just off.
“What about you, how's Vi?” you ask, taking a drag from your cigarette and exhaling a billowing cloud of smoke. You set the pool stick down.
Caitlyn coughs, fanning her hand in front of her face to try and clear the smoke away from her lungs. It doesn't work very well. “First thing you should know...” She snatches the cigarette from your hand and drops it to the floor. “She hates smokers.” She stomps on the butt to snuff it out.
“So, you’re telling me that I'm a-” You make air quotations with your fingers. “-non-smoker.”
“For now, yes.”
“Alright, alright. No smoking, got it.” You lean your pool cue on the wall. “Happy?”
“Another thing…” She purses her lips, eyes flicking over your features. “Vi mentioned that Jinx… likes pretty girls.”
Silence.
“Are you telling me I'm not pretty?”
Caitlyn jumps as soon as the words leave your mouth. “N-no!” She gestures at you. “You’re pretty. Definitely pretty.”
“Well, that’s reassuring.”
Caitlyn reaches into her pocket, pulling out a thick sheet of paper with a few bullet points written on it. “Anyways… there’s more.” She glances over the list, then looks back up at you. “Jinx likes: …art, drawing, bombs, explosions, tinkering, sweets, plushies, dogs, punk music...” She continues reading down the list. “Dislikes: teachers, school, rules, authority figures, boredom, being told what to do, being ignored…” 
She shoves the list into your hands, and you stare down at the words written in neat, orderly rows. “That's everything that I could get out of Vi.”
A few likes and a bunch of dislikes—what an absolute nutcase.
You look back up at Caitlyn. “So what does that give me? am I supposed to… bribe her with art supplies, draw her a picture, give her some sweets, then blow up a building?”
“Have you ever been to The Last Drop?”
You respond with a nod. You've been there a few times... it's usually filled with shady people, but the alcohol is reasonably priced.
“Letters to Cleo will be playing there tomorrow night.” 
“No.”
“Come on, it's just one night-” Caitlyn coaxes.
“No.”
She gives you a nudge. “Just assail your ears for one night. It's her favorite band, after all.”
It's a stupid idea. Spending your free time in a bar, listening to some god-awful music? It's the perfect recipe for a terrible night.
But if it's what Jinx likes...  “Fine.”
“Atta girl,” Caitlyn grins, clearly satisfied. She pulls out her phone, glancing down at the time as her fingers dance over the screen. “Oh… and I'm throwing a party on Friday night,” she says, looking back up at you. “It's the perfect opportunity.”
You blink. “Opportunity for what?”
“For you to ask out Jinx, of course.”
“…I'll think about it.”
Your car pulls up to a stop out front, the engine making a low noise. You step out of the car and start walking towards the entrance when you notice Sevika standing outside.
Sevika looks up, and her lips stretch into a smirk as she sees you. “Ah, my friend,” she greets. “It’s been a while.”
You shake her hand. “It’s good to see you again, Sev.”
Sevika eyes you up, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Didn't have you pegged for a fan,” she says. “Aren't they a bit too pre-teen belly-button ring for you?”
“Just a fan of a fan,” you reply. 
The door is slightly ajar, and you can faintly make out the music coming from inside.
“Did a blue-haired girl come in by chance?”
Sevika nods towards the door. “Just sent her through. She's with some other gal.”
You nod and head towards the entrance when Sevika calls out to you. “What happened to that girl you brought in last time?”
Ah, right. It has been a few months. “I dunno,” you reply with a shrug. “I just never called her again.”
Sevika chuckles and shakes her head. “That figures.”
You squeeze through the crowded floor and eventually find an open spot at the bar. The music from the stage is so loud you can feel the floor vibrating under your feet.
You flag down the bartender and place an order, then start idly scanning the crowd. You can make out a flash of blue hair, and your gaze lands on Jinx singing along to the chorus of the song.
You rest against the counter and watch Jinx dancing along to the music. She’s happy, and surprisingly, no “attitude” is present—not the usual scowls, or frowns, or cold looks.
Seeing her like this… giddy, with a wide smile and flushed face, makes you find yourself… smiling.
Huh. That’s... something.
Jinx, who is thisclose to having her eardrums explode, yells at the top of her lungs, “I NEED AGUA!”
“Sorry, what?” Lux yells over the music.
“I need agua!” Jinx yells again.
“Agua?”
Jinx nods and points to the bar.
“Alright!” Lux yells, but Jinx is already pushing past her through the crowd.
Jinx manages to reach the bar and signals for the bartender. She glances around as she waits, her eyes landing on you a few feet away. 
Shiiit.
Before she can catch your eyes, you look at a random patron nearby, pretending to be looking at something else.
The bartender walks up to Jinx, shouting over the music. “What can I get for you?”
“Two waters,” she responds, casting a glance back in your direction only to find you completely focused on the stage.
The bartender brings out a pair of water bottles from the cooler and sets them on the counter. Jinx fishes out some change and pays, then grabs the water bottles.
She approaches from behind and raps a knuckle on your shoulder. “If you're planning on asking me out again, you might as well do it already.”
Playing dumb, you gesture back at the stage. “Do you mind? you're kind of ruining it for me.”
Jinx seethes, but stays where she is. “You're not surrounded by your usual cloud of smoke.”
The music dies down for a while to give the band a rest, so you no longer have to yell over the music. You turn to face her. “I know. I quit.”
“You... did?” Jinx gives you a weird look, trying to figure out your angle here. “Are you feeling alright?”
That's a pretty fair question, to be honest, because for once in your life, you're actively not trying to flirt with someone.
What's even more weird is that Jinx is actually engaging with the conversation. Jinx moves closer to the stool, standing beside you. “Since when?”
You clear your throat, avoiding her gaze. “Since… yesterday.”
“Yesterday? you quit smoking just yesterday?”
“Just yesterday.”
Jinx looks you up and down. “Why?”
You look over at the band, who are currently changing out their gear. “Because... apparently they're bad for you,” you mumble. With a shrug, you gesture back towards the stage. “They're no Bikini Kill or the Raincoats,” you reply. “But they're alright.”
You step into the crowd, and Jinx is surprised enough to be momentarily stupefied. “Wait-” she sputters before following you. “You know who the Raincoats are?”
You stop in the middle of the crowd, spinning to face her. “Why? don't you?” you ask. “I saw how you were dancing out there. I’ve never seen you look like that...”
“I.. well, I-” she stutters, before clearing her throat and collecting herself. “Yeah, I do,” she replies. “I’m into grunge and punk and stuff. Ever heard of Nirvana?”
You scoff. “Of course. Who hasn’t?”
Jinx laughs, and you resist the urge to smile when you hear it. “Yeah, fair point. What about... Siouxsie and the Banshees?”
“Love them. But you can't tell me you don't know The Damned?”
Jinx's eyes light up at the mention of The Damned. “Hell yeah, they're awesome,” she exclaims, before frowning. “Wait, how do you know The Damned?”
You give yourself a pat on the back. Nailed it. “Excuse you, I have excellent taste in music,” you reply. “How do you know The Damned?”
“I'll have you know, I'm very into music,” she retorts. “I've got a collection of 1300 CDs. Mostly punk and grunge, but some 70s rock and other stuff.”
Her response is a pleasant surprise to you… and maybe attractive. But you squash that thought down because she's Jinx, and no way are you going to feel your heart flutter at anything this woman does.
You whistle. “Only 1,300? That's cute. I have almost 2,000.” 
“No way.” She shakes her head. “No WAY you have 2,000 CDs. You're bluffing.”
“I'm not,” you insist. “I've got 2,000 pieces of music in my home.”
“Damn. You got me beat, then.” She looks around the club, then looks back at you. “Anyway, I gotta-”
“Come to Caitlyn's party with me. Friday night,” you cut her off.
“-Why should I?” 
“-Because I guarantee you'll have a fantastic time.” 
She laughs at your persistence. “You never give up, do you?” she mutters before walking away through the large crowd.
“Was that a yes?” you yell after her.
Her only response is a middle finger held high in the air.
You cup your hands around your mouth. “I'll see you at 9:30 then!”
This is good. Not great, maybe, but not awful either. You didn't get kicked in the face for asking, so you're taking that as a win.
“How did it go?”
You tap your fingers on the steering wheel. “Hey, Cait…” you hesitate, glancing around at the empty street. “How much money does it take to buy 2,000 CDs?”
The line goes dead.
After a few minutes of silence, it rings again.
“You've got to be kidding me.”
Tumblr media
356 notes · View notes
punkitt-is-here · 13 hours ago
Note
Okay I'll put it here too because I want my words read.
Taking you at your word, I don't think most transfems think that. I actually think that's a wider issue with the queer community. I've seen more acceptance of my own and others' masculinity in transfem circles than elsewhere.
The problem is what you said sounds a lot like something the transandrophobia guys say, and they're massively transmisogynistic. They couch their bs in dogwhistles and doublespeak.
I think people thought they heard you parroting what the transandrophobia guys say and got mad. But you were speaking genuinely (in my opinion misinformed), so there's just been a massive miscommunication.
Also egging people on and making "touch grass" jokes doesn't help.
I said trans women because I was speaking specifically to them on an issue I see us have. I was not trying to make a broader point about how the world views masculinity, or how queer people in general view masculinity, i was talking specifically about a type of transgender woman that i am familiar with! most of them don't think that, because they rock! but a non-zero amount do and I see em more often than what I like. I don't really care that my words sound like a transandrophobia dogwhistle, thats some other shit. Not my fault, not my point. I'm not gonna say I'm misinformed, because I am very much informed about a lot of the stuff regarding this.
I got no ill will, so sorry if I sound snappy, but its like 3 AM here and I'm tired of people thinking I'm speaking more broadly than I am!
250 notes · View notes
witherby · 21 hours ago
Note
More mermaid please! Pretty please! With sprinkles on top!
With sprinkles? Can't say no to that, can I 😏🍦
Human!Damian x Mer!Reader, part 5
The previous part is Here!
Tumblr media
The locks to the tank entrance have changed. When Damian tries his key, it doesn't turn, which nearly takes him to his knees. His fists clench, the flesh of his palms soon littered with crescent moon indentations, and he storms away from the gate to your enclosure.
He's been separated from you for two weeks and it's taken a toll on you both. You were sedated too heavily from your tank escape to perform the next day, so your exhibit was closed, but when you were aware enough you absolutely refused to come out from your castle spire.
Clark, the on-staff physician in charge of general animal welfare at the aquarium, is unable to treat your scrapes and other wounds from beaching yourself. Getting too close to you ended in him rushing out with gashes in his arm and cheek, bloodied from your razor-sharp talons. He promises Damian he doesn't hold it against you, knowing how much you adored the youngest Wayne and how big of an upset his absence caused.
Your new primary handler was trying his damndest to bond with you, but the first time you surfaced to the top of your tank and didn't see Damian, you shrieked and splashed him, then refused to come up again even for your feedings. They've had to resort to dumping the food into the water for you to fetch instead, and even still you barely pick at it.
Bruce can't get anywhere near you. When you catch sight of him, you bellow and try to breach the tank to hurt him. Damian doesn't feel particularly upset by this when he's told about it.
You only show yourself when Damian leads tours through your part of the Aquarium, pacing around the tunnels and dragging your claws against the glass, otherwise you are never seen. Concerned customers ask about your missing scales and why you seem so desperate to get to him, but he can't do anything except grit his teeth and give them the pre-approved answers per his script.
You're also starting to exhibit depressive symptoms: aimless spinning through the water when you leave your castle spire, discoloration in your tail and fins, lack of appetite, and large bouts of lethargy are the biggest signs.
To put it simply — you miss Damian so much the stress is hurting you. If there's no serious turnaround soon, it's going to turn into a medical crisis.
Damian waltzes into Bruce's office without fanfare. The older man doesn't look surprised to see him, just holds up a finger and continues speaking into the phone on his desk.
"Yes, that's fine. Let me know when you can send both down here to look at them. Alright. You too. Goodbye."
He puts the receiver down and heaves a sigh, rubbing his temples.
"Yes, Damian?"
"I want to see them."
"No, Damian."
"They're suffering, father!" He snaps, arm cast wide. "Visitors aren't buying the excuse that they're getting over some bad Tail Rot. They won't play or engage with the new handler. They're not eating! Let me see them!"
"That's being taken care of." Bruce stands up from the desk and walks around it to address Damian face to face, arms crossed. "I just got off the phone with a veterinary clinic that specializes in Mer care. They're sending a behavioralist and doctor to come examine them properly in the morning, and help us make a care plan to get them healthy and properly readjusted."
He leans down a little to emphasize his point, gaze imploring.
"They're going to be okay, Damian. I need you to trust me when I say that this separation is what's best for you."
"It doesn't feel that way," Damian scowls. "It feels like we broke their trust by taking away someone that's supposed to care for them, and now they're justifiably lashing out. This was a reckless move, even for you, father, and now our mer has to suffer the consequences."
Bruce sighs. "Tadpole —"
"No!" The boy whirls around and jams a finger into his father's chest, relishing in the wince. "You don't get to do that! You don't get to talk about how wonderful Gotham Aquarium is to me, offer me a job here when I turn 18, let me finally do something that brings me joy and then rip it away while you give me useless platitudes and childish nicknames! I've had enough!"
"Damian —" Bruce tries again, a note of warning in his tone.
"Spare your breath. If you won't let me check up on the mer then we have no more business here." Damian turns, fists clenched, and marches out of the office and down the hall. His father calls out for him but doesn't chase after.
Good.
He only keeps up the angry act until he enters the employee locker rooms, then opens his fist to stare down at the key he swiped from Bruce's pocket during their confrontation, and smirks.
"Don't worry," he whispers, pulling out his wetsuit, "I'm coming."
156 notes · View notes
godesssiri · 2 days ago
Text
The thing is society doesn't collapse even in the worst circumstances. Having provided aide in a massive natural disaster I've seen how society doesn't just hold it strengthens.
My family runs a small care home a 5 hour drive away from me and 2 years ago there was a massive flood, and being out of the area I was able to gather supplies and drive them to my family's care home and make sure that 24 vulnerable elderly people were looked after.
Once we drove into the disaster zone there were so many helpers and heroes I couldn't begin to tell you all the stories. But everyone was figuring out what they personally could do to help and then they did it. People were asking us what we needed to look after our residents and just providing whatever they could. We had a disaster preparedness plan and supplies on site, but the plan was for 3 days as mandated by the District Health Board and if the disaster went over that the DHB were supposed to step in and take over - it was 6 days with no power or clean water or ability to get rid of the huge amount of trash an old folks home generates. All the DHB did was provide an extra generator on the 5th day which they then took away on the 7th day when the power was back on most of the time. Screw the DHB, we figured out power and water on our own.
The local community organized and held meetings in the town hall and asked what everyone needed. Our major problem was the trash. We had been due for the trash pick up the day of the flood. Our usual service provider was in the worst hit area, their yard and most of their trucks were gone. Care home trash is mostly incontinence products, if you've ever had to throw out the trash for a household with a baby in disposable diapers scale that up to adult sized diapers and multiply it by 24 - and since we'd been due for a pick up we had 2 weeks worth, the week leading up to the flood and the week of. And once the storm cleared there were days of scorching hot sun which just cooked the trash bags. At the community meeting someone volunteered a truck, someone else volunteered use of their digger and a pit dug on their land so the trash could be buried until it could be properly disposed of, people volunteered to load and unload the truck.
All this was one of the most unpleasant jobs you could imagine but people stepped up and did it because society keeps going, people make it keep going even in the worst circumstances. When all the usual frameworks that keep society going are damaged, overwhelmed, or outright destroyed, people step up, they find work arounds, they keep society going. It's in our nature to look around and figure out what we can do to help, to ask what other people need and do our best to provide it. Yes there's always going to be selfish people who screw other people over but in my experienced they are vastly outnumbered by the people who will give, who will help, who will keep society going. I've seen how even when you can't rely on government (in our case the DHB a govt body) you can still rely on society.
My mother is all into homesteading and off-grid living videos right now. Every time I check up on her, this is what she wants to talk about.
It gives her a sense of peace and purpose I guess. Which is good, she’s been struggling to find that with her injuries and condition. She’s learning skills, and feeling prepared for “the worst”. Like I can’t get her to stop watching conspiracy theory bullshit on YouTube so at least this kind of content alleviates some of the anxiety the other content amplifies, because she feels like she can do something now to secure her safety later.
But to get through these conversations, I have to tell myself— hey, if natural disaster comes our way, some of this might be useful. But I know she’s not just thinking a big storm or natural disaster. She’s preparing for the collapse of society. And I don’t know how to break it to her that we wouldn’t survive that. You can make long lasting candles with crisco? Cool. Where you going to by crisco when society collapses? You’ll stock up now? Ok cool. What will you do when it runs out? Honestly, before it runs out, what will you do when people with guns come to take your various stockpiled supplies?
If we hit a point where society collapses, we’re done for. Food, medicine, etc. we can’t survive without society, without a world where people are working together trying to help each other out.
So, I’ll go through with this shit in the name of natural disaster preparedness, and because it helps her. But that’s as far as I’m willing to put energy into it. I refuse to prepare for, bet on, or hope for the collapse of society. I’d rather spend my energy trying to prevent society collapsing, what little part I can play in that. I’d rather spend my energy supporting people in my community. I’d rather work and build towards a better future, not prepare for the worst.
6K notes · View notes
anchorandrope · 1 day ago
Note
I need to know why L's sisters are always the ones making trouble on social media and looking for attention. I really don't understand why them
Look, im going to give you an answer from PR because that's my life so why not lmfao. And since i've worked with one influencer recently, i have no doubts regarding what is happening at this point with louis' sisters.
Im going to try to explain this as short and succinctly as possible. and im really sorry to say this but this is how things work in real life, i beg you to leave your parasocial relationship with louis aside for three seconds to think coldly about the situation, because i know perfectly well how some of you take every statement made related to louis. several statements can exist at the same time, not everything is black and white, etc. thank you...
Some of you may ask, why always the twins? and there is, actually, an answer to that question. The answer, believe it or not, is not because Lottie is older than the twins. Partly her age is related, but it is not the reason itself... let's see:
Lottie started working as Lou Teasdale's assistant during the OTRA Tour, and since then and thanks to her, she got in touch with many important job opportunities that another teenager who does make-up well wouldn't have.
She has been in Fashion Week, worked for Selena Gomez, etc. Everything from a very young age. Today, she doesn't live exclusively from social media, as many believe. Her income is not only from "being an influencer", she has her brand tanologist, she published a book.... In Lottie's case, social media is a fundamental communication tool that allows her to obtain opportunities that generate income, but it is not her entire income per se.
On the other hand, Daisy and Phoebe were too young to take advantage of job opportunities at that time (1D days) because they were kids... they, again it may not seem like it, didn't have the same level of important job opportunities as Lottie had at such a young age. Lottie was at Fashion Week when she was 17... the twins are still very young and their proper working careers are just starting.
Phoebe and Daisy started their modelling careers in 2020 and to this day, they are involved in social media, promoting products (swaps) and modelling in small photo shoots. They haven't really had a big job opportunity like Lottie has had.
Unlike Lottie, they did not have the same visibility from the start and their income comes exclusively from social media. Modelling and swaps/promo are things they do through social media, their working tool is Instagram/TikTok. They need that platform for their income.
Now, if you have social media accounts set up as public and as a content creator you will know this, but for those who don't: those who create content on social media in this way (influencers, among other cases) have their own tool that helps them most to calculate how much they will earn and that is metrics. The famous "professional dashboard/insights" from Instagram for example.
To hire an influencer (in addition to doing a previous investigation of who you should hire) you should ask them for their metrics so that you can reach an agreement on the amount of money for that exchange/interaction/etc. A fixed base number is set, but depending on the reach, the more money they receive is directly proportional to the amount of interactions and views that post has had. Like on instagram if you share the post as branded content, the company you tag can see your metrics.
The fact that the twins are the ones who post content that they know people will go to their stories/posts/comments to see or will make them follow them on their social media is not a coincidence because the amount of people who interact with them (whatever the reason, as your personal reason is not seen on a metric lol) is what generates them revenue, quite literally.
Yes, it can happen that once in a while as something "casual" because they are people, but not as a generality and even less so when a few days later they do another promotion or they are in one. What is going on and whether it is right/morally correct or not are two different questions, by the way.
This is what happens, welcome to the world of influencers! It doesn't matter if you agree or not, if you like it or not, or whatever, those are your personal opinions (which are perfectly fine, we all have them) but... that's how it is. lol.
I personally don't think it's right to use babygate as a method of generating interaction, and just as I brought it to the attention of the clark family, I will bring it to the attention of the tomlinson's. the child is a huge victim of this, everyone is violating his right to privacy and honestly its disgusting to see after like 9 years. It seems to me that gaining interactions (that lead you to gain money) with such a horrible situation and with a child seems to me something that people should be ashamed of, to be honest. Beyond babygate, imagining that larry and babygate never existed, it's wrong to do this, it goes way beyond fandom, which i think is something a lot of people don't truly understand.
if you really want the twins to stop posting this kind of shit, im sorry to inform yall that the only solution to the problem is going to be to stop following them, stop looking at their stories, stop liking and viewing their posts, stop commenting, etc. any viewing/interaction is reflected in a metric, check it out for yourself (besides there are more metric apps than just the ones IG/Tiktok gives you). If you spread a screenshot taken by someone else or stuff, you are not interacting directly with their account, so it's not the same ofc, but if someone doesn't understand how it works, they will go and see it for themselves and and they will generate interactions. It's impossible not to have them on the radar, i know, so at least i ask yall to focus on what's really important, and not on every idiotic thing that happens, because that way they just make it worse, literally.
182 notes · View notes
flowersforthemachines · 1 day ago
Text
Some facts about Davrin (and also Grey Wardens and griffons) gathered from the banters
I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).
Note: the list isn't 100% exhaustive. I may have missed something or didn't write something down because I had heard about it before or considered it common knowledge. If you think there's something that can be added to the post, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from)
Other characters' posts: Bellara, Harding, Lucanis, the rest to be added later this week
Tumblr media
About Davrin
Family and past:
When he was a kid, Davrin broke his arm when his aravel sailed off a ridge 
Davrin stlll considers himself Dalish and thinks that will never change
Davrin hasn’t seen his clan since he left the forest. He misses the clan (‘it comes and goes’), Dalish food – especially halla milk and butter — and the sense of a common purpose. The last is why he joined the Wardens
Eldrin lives on his own, not together with Davrin’s clan
Just like Bellara, when Davrin was little, he wondered what it was like to his own house, shop at the market and make friends with outsiders
Davrin isn’t bothered by the idea of fighting the Elven gods because he never really believed in them, but he is worried about how the events of the Veilguard will impact the reputation of the elves
General:
Davrin drinks beer and wine
Davrin hums to himself :)
Davrin can speak some Dwarven 
Davrin doesn’t get the Fade - it’s just too many things at once (the place where spirits live, origin of creation etc.). He has difficulties believing it because it’s something he can’t touch or see 
Davrin would’ve left D’meta’s Crossing’s mayor to die
Davrin dumps griffon waste right into the Fade. No reservations about it whatsoever
Life with the Wardens:
Davrin says he never got used to hearing/sensing darkspawn after joining the Wardens
Davrin knows Ramish (protagonist of the Horrors of Hormkar)
The first group of Wardens Davrin fought with had a special system for fighting ogres. One of them would be “Cheese” (bait), drawing the ogre's attention while the others shot it with arrows (so Davrin can either use a bow or was always the Cheese) 
Monster hunting: 
Davrin can't take most books about monsters seriously, as they are not up to his standards
Fighting monsters is all about the thrill of the chase and tracking a target down rather than the victory
Davrin prefers to fight flesh-and-blood monsters rather than demons
Davrin takes full payment upfront when he hunts monsters for coin
Davrin has many monster trophies (Harding finds them disturbing)
Davrin does taxidermy 
Relationships with other companions: 
(In conversations with Bellara and Neve) Davrin genuinely believes Lucanis/Spite can kill them all 
(In conversation with Harding) Davrin proudly says Lucanis couldn’t take him 
Davrin made a little statue with a skull for a face as a gift for Emmrich’s colleague at his request
(If Emmrich becomes a lich) Davrin offers Emmrich to become a monster-hunting team (“Warden and lich. From darkspawn to demons, we've got you covered.”), thinking they could score a lot of coin
Davrin also offers Neve to set up shop together. “Minrathous Monsters and Murders. If it's claws and fangs stirring up trouble, we've got it covered.” Neve suggests Emmrich (and Manfred, if he's alive) joins them
Davrin and Neve met before the events of the Veilagurd on what Neve calls “The Vol Dorma Job”
About Assan and griffons:
Griffons like shiny things. Assan even once stole one of Bellara’s crystals (but later brought it back) 
(If Sent to Arlathan Forest) Griffons seem to 'remember' patrolling the forest, like it's a genetic thing
(If sent to the Wardens) Griffons listen to Evka
There’s no definite age for when a griffon is ready to carry a rider. It’s more about size and discipline 
(If Rook is in romance with Davrin) Assan gets a little moody/jealous after Davrin and Rook get together
Fade spooks Assan, so he doesn’t fly too far away from the Lighthouse 
Assan eats pastries from the kitchen
Assan doesn't like eating vegetables, but Davrin got him to eat carrots after Taash pointed out he needed more fibre in his diet
Assan misses Manfred when he dies
Assan can dive underwater and eat fish
Assan is curious about Neve’s wisps
About Wardens/misc:
Wardens slip Worry Weed into each other’s ale for kicks (it causes paranoia)
There is no definite timeline of how long a blighted person can survive without the Joining. It all depends on the person
Evka is good at telling spooky stories
Weisshaupt has a world-class library with books over a thousand years old
Wooden carvings can become haunted if blood gets on them
Wardens usually eat cold gruel for meals. Nobody knows what's inside it
174 notes · View notes
vanivanvanilla · 1 day ago
Text
been thinking recently about ccs in fandom spaces and ultimately, whether people like it or not, ccs will engage in fandom in one way or another but ccs (and other fans) need to respect fandoms and acknowledge that not all of the content is made for them
(under the cut bc it’s kinda long)
fanart is widely accepted as cool (usually as long as it’s not ship art), but other forms of fandom creativity are usually either unseen, ignored, or in fanfiction’s case, made fun of. fanfiction has a bad rep in fandoms, not just mcyt spheres.
when people think of fanfiction, they usually think of cringey ship fics made by young teens online. not all fanfiction is like this (there’s thousands of elaborate stories that could be their own independent series), but even the ones that are, so what?
fanfiction is an outlet for creativity just like fanart is, it’s just not held nearly in as high of a regard. people spend hours upon hours brainstorming, writing, and editing their fics just like an artist spends time sketching, coloring, and shading a piece of art.
fanfiction is just as valid as other forms of creativity. if you really want to make fun of it, i recommend doing so privately or at the very least ask for the author’s permission to talk about it in videos, streams, whatever
all fandom content has a target audience. a lot of the time, this target audience is not the content creators! fanworks are typically made for other fans. it’s nice when ccs engage with fanworks, but they need to keep this fact in mind especially when viewing stuff like shipping content
a lot of it comes down to curating your own experience online. yes, people will ignore or break boundaries but there’s not much that can be done other than blocking or ignoring them and going along with your day.
there’s been countless times where someone (either cc or fan) will call out another fan for making content they don’t like, even if it doesn’t necessarily break any boundaries
this causes a lot of unneeded stress on all parties and often leads to whoever was called out to receive harassment, which i don’t think should be encouraged regardless of the content
no one can dictate what a fandom can or cannot do— ccs and fans alike have tried many times in the past, present, and i’m sure will continue in the future, but no one can truly enforce rules upon someone.
just try to respect each other and various forms of fandom creativity that you see; whether this is art, fanfiction, analysis, shitposts, anything. not everything needs to be pointed out to be laughed at nor does everything need to have a callout post. block/ignore and move on if you don’t like what you see 🙏
also, as someone who has been in youtube fandoms for over a decade, this is an issue i’ve seen again & again in All youtube fandoms, not just mcyt fandoms. this isn’t directed at anyone specific, just a general word vomit of my thoughts from the past so many years :p
150 notes · View notes
revelboo · 1 day ago
Note
Help!!! Not the sparklings. But this good, nobody aside from starscream has done sparkplay. Which means no accidents yet with the autobots (looking at op and prowl) and neither with rumble/frenzy. Rip sounders and star, but congrats to thunder and roddy (in the kinks piece). So the “protection” is not doing sparkplay. Got it…. The last patt mentations accidentally giving the spark to others. Does that imply we might get a bot mechpreg?
Reader can give the spark to another bot during a combination of interfacing and sparkplay once they’ve had it long enough that it’s stable. And unfortunately, I can see the Insecticons taking full advantage of the infinite spark generation glitch with their human once they figure it out down the road to build up their numbers. Because it’s only a spark entangled in them, unless something goes wrong, the reader probably wouldn’t realize they’re sparked at all unless the bot straight up tells them or they pick it up through the bond during sparkplay if their partner thinks about it or they go digging in their memories. At some point there’d be a sense of something at the edge of their awareness, but reader wouldn’t connect the dots most likely and in the case of multiple partners, is likely to be too distracted to snoop in their bond mate’s mind.
Tumblr media
Insecticons- swarm snippet 18+ 🌶️
• Arching back against Shrapnel, head on his shoulder, your hips buck at the feel of Bombshell’s glossa stroking against you, spearing inside you again and again as he growls. Feel Shrapnel’s sharp denta against your shoulder teasing the skin and then Kickback is catching your chin to turn your head so he can claim your mouth, one of his hands braced on Bombshell’s upper back for balance. You’d figured out the hard way when they first snatched you that there’s something off about their saliva, some kind of pheromones that leave you a needy mess in their servos. Something they take full advantage of every single time, your cry muffled by Kickback when you come apart.
• Glossa sliding over you as you whimper, head tipped back and Kickback’s mouth on yours, Bombshell pushes his brothers back, hearing Kickback’s startled chirp of protest as the kiss is broken. Shrapnel’s hands wandering over you as he supports you, keeping you open. Shifting over you, Bombshell drives into you, hissing as you tremble under him and around his spike, gripping him as he ruts against you. “Mine,” he snarls.
• “You mean ours, ours,” Shrapnel hisses in annoyance, hips rocking against your soft back where you’re lying on him, grinding himself against you as you writhe under Bombshell. Their little queen. Soft hair rubbing against him as you make those breathy little cries, those prey sounds that make him want to chase you down to claim all over again. A game the four of you have played so often.
• Pulling one of your hands to him as Bombshell’s thrusts become more urgent and Bombshell pulls back the plating protecting his spark, Kickback runs his glossa against your soft palm, sucking and nipping at your thumb before rolling on his side closer to you and his brothers, tugging your hand to his spike, shuddering when you obediently grip and stroke him. Hears Bombshell snarling, hips snapping against you with those wet sounds. “Give it to me,” Bombshell snarls, voice strained and desperate.
• Whimpering as he drives you ruthlessly to that peak again, you feel Shrapnel’s servos tighten on your hips as he begins bucking up, grinding himself urgently against your lower back. Drowning in Bombshell as his spark snares you and pulls you under. Overwhelmed by their bodies, their pheromones, and Bombshell wrapping himself around you, that strange feeling of being seen and cradled in light. Feel him coaxing at you, insistent and urgent just like every other time and you relax into it. Letting go and there’s a curious sense of loss, like whatever he’s taking matters, it’s important and then you’re coming apart under him. Hear Bombshell hiss as he releases into you, wetness against your lower back and then your hip as Kickback rolls more and ruts against your skin. Laying there dazed and trembling, you hear a chitter and know there’s another Insecticon crawling around outside your nest. There’s more and more lately, your hive growing, and the new ones don’t bother or touch you, dropping their heads whenever you’re near making you think your mates had told them not to even look at you. Rarely even speaking to you except to acknowledge you as their queen and then move on. But where are they coming from? Kickback shifting against you, denta grazing your jaw distracts you from the question.
146 notes · View notes
bigmoon-is-bigwife · 3 days ago
Text
I've seen a lot of people say that when Clown gets back on the server he will make Ros worse and I think that is true! But not because he's going to manipulate her, but because the only thing keeping Ros from being a menace is a lack of confidence and knowledge.
There have been so many times where she has planned to do something murderous or mischievous but backed out of it because she got nervous. Clown has repeatedly been a very reassuring presence to Ros and generally goes along with whatever she wants to do. I don't think he has ever pressured her into doing anything, only supported her in doing it. When she wanted to kill Badboyhalo he provided her OP gear and walked her through exactly how to do it but also told her she could back out if she wanted to when she was hesitating. Ros did feel like she was letting Clown down and feels a pressure to prove herself to him but I don't think that's ever been reinforced by Clown.
Ros expresses a desire for violence even when Clown isn't around, she just has a lot of self doubt and talks herself out of it. Ros also cares a lot about what others think of her. She worries that violence brings her 'goodness' into question but I feel that has become less of an obstacle as of late. People have been very cruel to her and I think she's more willing to snap back now.
TLDR: Clown didn't plant any seeds of murder or anything in Ros, she's always had them. I don't think he's manipulating her or corrupting her, he is simply providing support and reassurance. The support and reassurance are coincidentally for murder so she will in fact be getting worse but by her own desire.
119 notes · View notes
headedoutleft · 24 hours ago
Text
It's generally the belief that boiling the milk removes Vitamin A and essential enzymes and that it is making people sick (why does this matter when we eat things besides milk and have other sources of these vitamins and probiotic enzymes? I cannot explain that). I've seen raw milk advocates state that pasteurization is the reason so many people have worse allergies (no climate change science is going to pry that warm, fresh from the teat milk from their hands!), and that the natural bacteria in milk boosts the immune system and can prevent disease (classic superfood bullshit that you'll never get cancer, and it will cure your asthma, etc.).
Also saw a wild article just now on a pro-raw milk website conflating a study about human breast milk and how pasteurizing it resulted in underfed infants with the lack of nutrition in pasteurized cow milk??? It seems like a combo of believing that constantly exposing your immune system to more bacteria makes it stronger, actually, and that it's a miracle food we should be drinking constantly so that we will never die.
You can also mix in general distrust of the government, concern about mass farming practices, and food safety fears. None of which should stop them from just pasteurizing their own milk (which preserves most of the nutritional value of milk, extends the shelf life, and prevents the risk of bacterial and viral infection).
Tumblr media
The raw milk people don’t even know what raw milk is
22K notes · View notes
kararisa · 2 days ago
Text
darling, starling
— 27. through it all — ✦ (wc: 0.8k)
notes: this took longer than expected ^^ hope you guys enjoy the chapter!
Tumblr media
To Yae Miko's credit, she cut straight to the chase. 
Not that Scaramouche would give her much credit in general, given that she had always treated him with such indifference over the years before he finally moved out. But he'd take his small blessings whenever he could.
It was a cut-and-dry deal: Yae Miko would interview Scaramouche regarding the recent scandal between his partner and one of the band members of Windborne. He would get the chance to clear the air with the help of one of the most influential news outlets in all of Inazuma, while Yae Miko would get an exclusive story people could only dream about.
It should have been over the moment they ended the interview. But here they are, making casual conversation. At least as casual as it gets between a son and his estranged mother-in-law.
Scaramouche has seen these tactics before. Whenever Yae Miko wanted information, she’d make casual conversation with the interviewee to get them to open up. And that’s when she strikes.
Ironically enough, it was also Yae Miko who taught him how to avoid this. She was the one who taught him when to give information and when to hold back; how to satiate people’s curiosity enough so they leave you alone. Basic media training — training he and Kaori knew by heart.
Yae Miko tilts her chin downwards, the way she does whenever she gets curious. “You’ve been back in Inazuma for a little over a year now. Is it nice living with them? I’m assuming so since no one’s spotted you packing your bags just yet.”
“I still live with them. But that’s none of your business.”
“Oh come now, you saw me turn off the recorder. Everything we’re saying right now is off the record.”
Against his better judgment, he yields, “It’s... nice. On the days when they actually wake up early, they help me cook. It’s become a routine of sorts.”
He knew that was exactly what she was looking for when he saw the hint of satisfaction in her eyes.
It’s a slippery slope, trusting a journalist. Some will risk their lives for the truth while others will stab you in the back while shaking your hand. But if it’s Yae Miko, he has no doubt she’ll only publish the truth, if only a little embellished. She has to sell stories, after all.
“You’re never usually this civil with me,” Scaramouche doesn’t attempt to mask his suspicion. “What do you hope to gain with a conversation that’s off the record?”
Yae Miko offered a cryptic smile, her eyes revealing a flicker of sincerity. “Am I not allowed to be curious? People are actively looking for you just for the chance at an interview and you reached out to me in the hopes of clearing the air about your relationship.”
He’d be loathe to admit that she was one of the few people he trusted to handle the story properly. But he still had to ask, “And now you’re just this so-called off-the-record conversation as some sort of blackmail?”
She sighs, “I’m getting an exclusive interview with the author who’s dating an Inazuman pop star. Would you blame me for asking a few questions? Besides, you’ll see none of this conversation mentioned in any articles.”
“How do I know you’re not just bullshitting me...”
“I can understand your apprehension, but words hold power, Scaramouche. Everyone in the industry knows this. And so do you.”
Tumblr media
Scaramouche has never really seen eye-to-eye with Yae Miko on a multitude of things, but one of the few things they can agree on is that people shouldn’t just blindly believe what people say just because they have a large following. The Narukami Press has always strived to publish articles that are reflective of the truth. 
But bias is inevitable, whether you work in journalism or public relations.
“A large majority of people are always going to want to chase the latest drama without caring if it’s true or not,” she starts. “You’ll find no such motivation in me to keep fanning the flames. I want them to die down as much as you do.”
Tumblr media
“People like us have a responsibility to be careful with what we say and how we say it,” she continues. “The drama with Zenith was blown out of proportion, that much is for sure. People were hungry to see their downfall given that they were on top for so long but they were just as eager to drag you down with them.”
Tumblr media
“Setting the record straight by yourself will be nearly impossible,” she states matter-of-factly. “But your friends have been preparing their statements to defend your partner, yes?”
He isn’t even surprised that she knows about this, especially a PR move this big. Working with his friends will be the best way to get the rumors to die down to a manageable level.
“Your word and Xiao’s will be what people hang onto the most. Make it count.”
Tumblr media
“And fight for them, Scaramouche. They need you now more than ever. If you decide to ignore all my advice, then that’s fine by me. But never stop fighting for them.”
“Like hell I’d ever stop. No matter what happens, I’ll be with my partner through it all.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧
summary: being the world-famous singer-songwriter "zenith", the limelight has been on you ever since the start of your career. however, the media becomes relentless when leaks of music you never meant to release begin to circulate. your friend scaramouche, meanwhile, seems to have gotten stuck while writing his second book. with a deadline fast approaching, he comes to you with a deal: act as if you're dating him so he can gather reference material and, in turn, he'll help keep the press' eyes off of your leaks until you release your next album. a win-win in your book, so why not help a friend out?
author's notes:
i lied, this was my favorite chapter to write by far
happy new year everyone!! updates will probably slow down from here but i hope you enjoyed the chapter ^^
taglist — currently CLOSED:
@aestherin @your-kuya-pogi @yourstrulykore @krnzysh @vxnuslogy @yumiaur @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @meigalaxy @nymphxie @motherscrustytoenailclippings @samyayaya @hiimera @beriiov @e0nssadrift @dazaisboner @nillajhayne @chluuvr @deffenferofjustice @romyoia @xiaomainlmao @hotgirlshit5 @potabletable @letthewindlead @esuz @toriiee @kclremin @angelkazusstuff @phoenix-eclipses @sakiimeo @mayuumine @lilybythevalley @one-and-only-tay @keiiqq @what-just-happened-huh @haunts-gh0st @layla240 @miaakai @duckyyyx @cinnaniyoom @kgogoma @xtobefreex @mechanicalbeat1 @feiherp @venturinea @nnasv @retiredmommylover @onmywaytoteyvat @tiredslepz @saccharine-sucks
Tumblr media
120 notes · View notes
olderthannetfic · 3 days ago
Note
I keep thinking comment wank and deletion wank ("wahhh no one comments! i'm flouncing because people talked about my fic on discord instead of commenting!" and the like) is overblown and based on a fundamental misunderstanding of typical engagement stats on ye olde internet, and also nothing new, and then I remember I haven't posted anything since like 2020 because my ability to write seemingly dried up and died during quarantine so like. Perhaps I do not have my finger on the pulse of fic-writing fandom.
But you're pretty stats-minded, do you have any data to suggest a change in commenting trends?
--
I haven't made any thorough investigation myself, but every stat I've seen through the years suggests that the typical level of feedback is around 100-200 hits: 10 kudos/likes: 1 comment.
Maybe you get a couple more "♥" comments if there's no 'like' option. Maybe the ratio is skewed by something being in a very small fandom and there only being ten hits. But in general, the actual rate of any sort of interaction in any era is terrible.
My theory for why it feels like there are changes is this:
If you were in your twenties on Livejournal, excitedly in baby's first big fandom, and making friends and social contacts all the time, it felt like there were tons of comments. You also couldn't see hit counts.
Twenty years later, you might be at a difficult time in your career, stressed and busy, rubbed the wrong way by the social media platforms that are currently in vogue, and between great fannish loves or into something that nobody cares about. You look at the hit counts on AO3 and the bit of tortured prose it took you a month to pull out of yourself, and you think no one is social or happy anymore.
...
Meanwhile, some current college student is barfing out enthusiastic garbage every week for some juggernaut ship from the latest big anime, and their comments section is full of people screaming about their faves.
--
The normal amount of feedback on fic is eternally "not enough", but the reality of the stats isn't what people are reacting to, in my opinion.
Most of the emotions surrounding all this are the same as those of the protagonist in every Christmas story about someone who needs to get their mojo back.
77 notes · View notes
thekingnerd · 23 hours ago
Text
As an endo (I feel the need to preface with this so as to not be misleading) I agree with EVERY point you made here, which is... Very odd to have happen when I'm reblogging an anti.
I agree with your stance on the antis, and how while there are some toxic communities and people, that isn't all of them. Similarly, I don't view all endos as good people, some of us are assholes, but I see so many anti posts about all endos being ableist, how they used to be pro but then a few endos were being dicks and trying to convince them they were endo, as well as other things, then they hate all endos. I agree with you completely here: Neither side is a monolith. We all have good people, we all have bad ones. Hell, I have a few antis I actively enjoy talking to because they, while not believing that I can exist, are able to put that aside for the purposes of a proper debate without insults!
The concept of endos being suspicious: I agree, it did seem a bit odd at first for me, but when my brethren (headmates) showed up (before I did) the Guy Who Was There First was just like "Huh, that's odd. Am I crazy? Probably, but that's fine." (For context, we have aphantasia, so we are all (to whoever is fronting) disembodied voices.) We didn't even know that systems were a thing until our friend revealed his systemness to us, but since we were different, us being system didn't even click until a year later. As for a lack of trauma, or other symptoms: Some endos dissociate from other, unrelated disorders, some have trauma that doesn't fit with diagnostic criteria or happened after systemhood, but in general, we don't know why we formed. With willogenics and such, my best guess as to how could be they can just believe they have a friend in their head for long enough it stays? Maybe imaginary friend type thing, but more permanent?
We don't pretend that natural multiple shit never happened, most of us just have never heard of it before. This is the first I heard of it.
I'm also not asking any antis to take a chance on us existing, I just want the death threats and such to stop.
As for barging into spaces: I do not condone any endos posting endo stuff in the did/osdd/cdd/other disordered tags, unless it's something that they found that directly pertains to those disorders (other post elsewhere that has tips on dealing with dissociation, for example.) From an endo point of view, at least from what I've seen, we left the overall, medical system spaces and formed our own spaces, using the plural tags. Now, we don't keep traumagenics out, not at all. We are all inclusive. We just want to keep hatred out of our spaces, because there are plenty of antis coming into the endo safe plural tags, and calling us ableist, then having DNI in the tags, as if they expect us to not respond to them yelling at us in our tags. I am fine with DNIs, but like... If you don't want gay people to interact with you, then don't go to the gay bar.
I get not wanting to have your safe space spoiled by hate and those who invalidate you. I just wish that both sides could see that, agree to disagree, and temporarily have a truce while we work on making plurality in general (both disordered and not) accepted by society. Then we can get back to throwing hate at each other if we truly wish.
Tl;Dr, I agree fully with every point you made here, and they also, for the most part, actually apply to endos as well. We need to just have a truce, normalize systems so we can go by our own names in public, not body names, and then if we truly wish go back to fighting.
Keep seeing posts of pro-endos who used to be anti-endo talking about "Ugh, anti-endo spaces are so toxic" which is not necessarily bad, there are bad anti-endo spaces out there and people are allowed to vent about how those spaces hurt them
I do have a problem when they use that as an excuse to call us all toxic and cruel. I've seen many saying things like "Anti endos are so horrible, I'm so glad I'm not one of those monsters anymore"
You need to understand we aren't the monsters you make us out to be. We're traumatized people, trying our hardest to survive with something debilitating, who can't help but see endos as mocking, whether they truly are or not. We can't help but see endos as invading our spaces.
We didn't get to have safe spaces most of the time. We didn't get to be around people who cared about us and understood us. Even those of us that did have a safe space had it poisoned by trauma elsewhere. We spent our childhoods afraid, isolated, and so agonizingly alone, feeling like we were better off dead, that we were freaks, that we were the only ones in the world going through this. This community we made for ourselves was one we had to fight through years of hell to get.
So when random people come over trying to insist that they're "just like us" and demanding to be let in, despite having only one or two things in common that we couldn't even trust they truly had, of course we'll be fucking defensive. In our eyes, you're trying to take the safe spaces we fought tooth and nail for away from us, whether you truly are or not. In our eyes you're people who know nothing about us or what we went through, and continue to go through, trying to barge into our havens and bloat it with bullshit, whether that's what you're trying to do or not.
We've been hurt so many times, by so many people, for so long. Why the fuck would we take a chance on people that are so suspect? You claim to have alters just like us, yet without any of the other symptoms of our disorders. You claim to be systems, yet without being caused by the immense trauma we had to suffer through. Hell, some of you claim that you made your alters for fun, just because you can.
Of course we're wary and defensive. We don't want to even risk losing the spaces we worked so damn hard to get.
If you've had a bad experience with anti-endo spaces, and are pro-endo now because of it, that's fine by me and I understand completely. But that doesn't make us all villians. That doesn't make us all evil monsters.
And besides, many of us have been hurt by pro-endo/mixed origin spaces too. We've seen people have horrible experiences with them. (Let's not forget endos started as natural multiples, who were notoriously shitty, cruel, and discriminatory toward any and all traumagens, and that a lot of that same rhetoric is still rampant in the community, AND that the community at large has basically just decided to pretend that never happened.
-Kaz
175 notes · View notes
lovely-parasite-04 · 2 days ago
Text
Iced Coffee, Detective?
Agnes!Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
Prologue of ?
SUMMARY: One of the victims of Westview goes a little further than everyone else to be nice to the town hero, Agatha Harkness, or Detective Agnes O'Connor. She doesn't know what she's getting into when the Detective asks her to come in for "further questioning."
WARNINGS: Mention of murder (its only like a sentence), Agatha being Agatha
NOTE: This is mostly experimental because I hardly ever write and when I do, it never sees the light of day. However, I am In Love with Agatha, and I never see anyone write much about when she was under Wanda's spell. The experimental part is that this is meant to be comical and reader doesn't immediately start out with a big fat crush on Madame Harkness. It's also more on the simple side in terms of plot. I'm posting this first little bit to see how people enjoy it, and if it gets a lot of attention, I'll try to write more.
"Large Americano for Agnes?" I shout from my corner behind the counter, swiftly setting the paper cup down as I see the familiar brunette make her way towards me. I turn to begin making another order, but stay put to ask the older woman, "Any new cases, detective? I heard you on the phone over there talking about a lot of work to get back to. "
Agnes (Agatha) takes a large sip of her iced coffee, testing the flavor and swallowing, before responding with, "I'm not supposed to talk about the investigation and I don't entertain rumors about how the victim passed." She barely made eye contact with me, but I'm shocked she didn't immediately leave after receiving her order. She is usually in a hurry to get her coffee and go.
"Oh... of course. Sorry." I have no idea what she heard me say, because I didn't mention anything about a victim. I know I don't necessarily have to play along with her delusions like I do; most people simply tell her to have a nice day and direct her towards the door, but I can't help but be fascinated by what she is going through.
Seeing it from the outside, anyway.
I was among the rest of Westview during the Scarlet Witch's spell. Just the thought of it sends a shiver down my spine. Losing control of everything but your mind can be terrifying, wanting to say something but saying something else. Being frozen in time until you were needed for a plot point for a completely deranged woman. Losing track of time and wondering if it will ever end.
Agatha Harkness had been a town hero, stopping Wanda Maxifmoff and freeing everyone in Westview. But now she was stuck in the same spell with no end in sight.
Her Nosy Neighbor character lasted for about 2 years and everything seemed to be normal. She would gossip with her closest neighbors and those who volunteered to check in on her and bring her groceries, and she pretty much kept to herself. However, her characters have started to derail into different "genres". The first shift the town noticed was around Christmas last year. She seemed to be acting out a Hallmark movie, following around this one guy while pretending she was just bumping into him and trying to show him the "true meaning of Christmas."
It was funnier to watch than any actual Hallmark movie I had ever seen. The guy was married with a family, and continued to tell Agatha as such until she shifted again. That was when I made the observation that in Agatha's delusions, she doesn't always hear exactly what we say. It's like her brain can't comprehend anything that doesn't fit the little world she's made, so it makes something else up entirely for her to play off of.
I'm also convinced that she is controlling her delusions now. Maybe not intentionally, but I no longer see the hold Wanda had over her. Maybe this spell that Agatha is under is different from ours. She has no control of her mind. We only had control of our minds.
I feel bad for her, and I'm really intrigued by her as a person in general - I mean she's a fucking witch from 1690's Salem - so I steal any chance I get to talk to her. It helps that she is a regular at the coffee shop I work at.
Back in the moment, I need to move to the other end of the counter to finish this new order, and I'm positive she'll walk away once I do. I simply say, "Have a nice day!" And start to step away when she surprises me again.
"You knew her, huh?" Holding the coffee close to her chest and mouthing at a straw she slipped in while I was lost in thought. She follows me around the counter, not bothering to mutter anything to the other customers she runs into along the way. Her whole focus is on me.
"I...knew who?"
She heard me that time, giving me the full name of someone I'd never heard of before.
"Oh, her? Yea. Yea, me and her go way back."
  I'm a sucker for improv, okay? What's the harm? Even if she found out I was lying, she can't hurt me. She lost all her magic. Right?
"If you don't mind, I'd like you to come with me back to the prescient, so I can ask you a few questions about the girl and the nights leading up to her death."
Well, fuck. My boss would never let me leave for this. A real cop, sure. The town cook? Absolutely not. "I'm sorry, detective O'Connor, I'd have to wait until I get off work."
"Relax, hon." She said condescendingly "Let's just wait until you get off work -" What a great and completely original idea, Agatha. "I'll give you my card and you give me a call later today, okay?"
She proceeds to hand me an index card with the name Wanda gave her, Detective Agnes O'Connor, above a phone number. On the back is her house address. All handwritten.
  Bless her heart.
  "Okay- I hope you don't hand these out to everyone..." The last part was more of an outside thought, and thankfully Agatha didn't seem to hear it anyway, waving over her shoulder and exiting.
----------------
70 notes · View notes