#top freelance skills

[marketingtools-blog]

The Trending Tapestry of Freelance Gigs: A Creative Chronicle

In the boundless realm of freelancing, where opportunity intertwines with versatility, individuals excellent in their craft are like wandering minstrels, but instead of serenading with songs, they enchant with skills. They never tether their talents to just one mast but let them billow with the changing winds of market trends and digital innovation. In this kaleidoscopic landscape, an array of…

[neolithicsheep]

I've been meaning to write this down for some time because there are some fundamental errors that people keep making in crowdfunding/sales that shoot their campaigns in the foot. So here's a list of easy principles.

Who am I and why should you listen to me? I am a freelance chaos marketer who has raised well over $100,000 when totaling up various crowdfunding campaigns, mostly for aid to Afghanistan. In addition I've managed to successfully market everything from stuffed plush koalas to hydration salts. Why am I putting this out here for free? Because despite a years long track record of success in social media marketing no one will hire me because I don't have a college degree, so I might as well help people out who can't afford to hire full time marketing. 

If you'd like to hire me to help you evaluate your marketing and sales and teach you better skills on a 1 to 1 basis then hit me up, I am often willing to barter, esp with artists in a variety of mediums! 

Anyway on to HOW TO CONVINCE PEOPLE TO GIVE YOU MONEY:

TL;DR: use positive messaging that humanizes everyone involved and make it as easy as possible for people to give you money.

1. Shame and guilt are demotivators. They will not inspire people to give you money. “Why aren't people helping” “I guess people don't care” “This isn't getting enough shares/donations” etc etc. Online fundraising is often frustrating, heartbreaking, and will make you angry, especially when there's a humanitarian crisis involved. It is critical that if you are raising funds for someone else that you have a place to vent that is not the audience you would like to donate to the cause. 

2. Use motivating messages instead! “You can help!” “Even a small donation is important because it tells Recipient they're not alone, and people care” “We can't fix the whole world, but we can make this one thing right, and that means something”. Emphasize that this is a problem that the reader can help fix with even a small effort. With items for sale, tell a story. "I drew this thinking about how safe I always felt under a tree in my childhood backyard". "I chose the colors in this shawl to remind me of sagebrush and piñon pine in my favorite place."

3. Make it easy for people to give you money. Never talk about your product or cause without a link that leads directly to where people can give you money. They should be able to click one link on your post and land at the fundraiser or your shop. Every required click is going to lose people, so minimize the number of them required. This also means if you have a list of fundraisers for people to choose from the ones at the bottom will be neglected - people will hit the ones at the top. Be sure to take those off when they're met or periodically shuffle the list around to make sure everyone gets a chance to be in the first 5 spots. In online stores people will often only look at the first page or two of items so be sure to shuffle things around and remove out of stock items that are taking up prime real estate.

4. Humanize the recipient - this can be tricksy when raising charitable aid because you don't want to be exploitative. But to use my last Afghan campaign as an example, “We need to raise $500 for an Afghan family” is less effective than “This Afghan family's home was damaged in heavy rains that caused extensive flooding. They only need $500 to repair and rebuild so they can stay in their home and not become displaced.”  If possible, tell as much of the recipient's story as they consent to. Eg “Fred is seven and loves dinosaurs. His favorite is brontosaurus, and he carries a stuffed one with him everywhere. He wants to be a paleontologist when he grows up and discover a complete brontosaurus skeleton that he can give the same name as his stuffed friend. Unfortunately he's also a trans boy living in Texas and his family needs $1500 to rent a Uhaul and get to Colorado so he can grow up in safety and do that.”

5. If you're not the recipient, humanize yourself while you're at it! “I'd be really grateful if you all could share or donate” “This fundraiser really means a lot to me because…��� “Thank you so much for any help, whether sharing or donating” 

6. Treat the audience like humans. Speak to them like they are people you're having a conversation with, not ATMs. This ultimately is the goal of not using shame/guilt and humanizing yourself and the recipient. 

7. Set low goals and bump them up when met. One of the weird things about people is they prefer to give to successful fundraisers. Yeah I don't know either. So you're more likely to get the full amount you need if you set a partial goal initially and then raise it when that's met. Raise it in small increments and raise it repeatedly as those goals are hit to keep momentum going. You can't always control this so if you're boosting someone else's fundraiser you can do it artificially via asks like “Hey y'all can we get together and put $500 on this?”

[bestseoinrajshahi]

Best Seo in rajshahi

[tswwwit]

Cipher's Personal Portable Portal Part 2

Here's the link to the first one! This picks up immediately after.

About five minutes later, with several pages of his notebook filled out and still frantically scribbling, Dipper decides this was a great idea. 

Bill’s explanations are startlingly detailed, if delivered with little context and a lot of assumptions of prior knowledge. Like listening to the instructions of a master, skillfully explained at a damning pace that makes keeping up a challenge. 

No wonder Bill was able to make the phone if this is the level he’s working at. On the staircase of skill, he’s sitting near the top, waving tauntingly to anyone below him over the railing.

There’s a kind of excitement, too. Not just on Dipper’s part - even Bill, amazingly, seems happy that Dipper’s keeping up, until he’s practically trying to outrun him. 

And failing. Bill picked the wrong subject if he wanted to test brains. Dipper’s going to give him a run for his money.

The discussion continues longer than he expected, both lively and rapid. Demonic knowledge never seemed like it would have *that* much kick to it. At some level, Dipper kind of expected it to be primal and instinctual - but instead of delivering magic with brute force, Bill talks in high-level theory. Still practiced with more power than a human could manage. But clever.

He jots down that in his notes before he forgets. The difference between a regular demon and a really dangerous demon likely has less to do with raw power, and more on how they use it. Not so different from people, then. 

Dipper pauses as his wrist starts aching from notes. It gives him space to think, and grimace. 

Curiosity is great and all. But he has got to be cautious here. 

Bad ideas have wrecked older, more talented magicians than him. He knows the lure of knowledge, and how easily he could be suckered into some kind of trap. Demons are simultaneously a great source of creative knowledge - and awful, in terms of tricks.

Learning one spell, though, and one he’s already mastered the normal way, probably isn’t going to hurt. And it has been a while since he’s talked to someone like this. 

A person not bored senseless by talking spellcraft. Someone who keeps up with the conversation, fully engaged, without needing a primer. Who doesn’t think that ‘good enough’ is actually good enough, when you could do it better and cooler.

Their entire conversation might be more worrying, actually -  if Bill wasn’t kind of a nerd. 

Clearly he gets a kick out of teaching, if the enthusiasm and exclamation points are any indication. All his insights are precise and sharp, his concepts clever - 

And he doesn’t dismiss Dipper’s weirder ideas. No, he has opinions on them. Loud ones. 

Said opinions are also less-than-moral. But it’s weirdly fun to argue the details. Dipper quickly learns that enough nitpicking and ‘bet you can’t’ taunts turn the more explosive concepts into usable ones.

With such a strange conversation partner, it ends up going places he never expected. Teaching merges into tangents, into strange stories from Bill himself, and arguments about magic. 

Eventually it leads into stories about Dipper’s own exploits. With more detail than he’d usually go into. The last time he talked work with someone, they left early and unmatched him on the app - but Bill’s clearly interested in magical freelancing. The pull is hard to resist.

So there I am in the pouring rain, covered in god knows what with an angry cannibalistic gryphon tied up in the ditch, when Jacob Jensen steps in front of the whole crowd and thanks his ‘helpful assistant’. For pulling off the plan HE put together. 

And it’s not like I could say anything, the silence spell was still up. 

HA HA HA HA! Oh man, you’re a walking comedy of errors. How does one human even get into this kinda crap? It’s hilarious!

But seriously, you shoulda cursed the guy. Not the kind of thing you should let your rivals get away with, kid.

Dipper rolls his eyes at the text. Another immoral solution, provided by an immoral being. He’ll ignore it, just like all the others. 

Arguably he shouldn’t be talking to a demon about, like, literally *any* of this. Keeping the details of his life close to his chest. But it’s like Bill can do anything about it, either to make it better or worse. He’s a bajillion lightyears and a dimension away. 

No, Bill, for like the fifth time, I don’t hex people. Even if they deserve it. Though in hindsight, I should have kept the dispelling spell charged.

Aha! There’s your problem! Not the skills, but speaking up about ‘em! Try some showmanship! Competence isn’t everything. Hell, compared to a great sales pitch, it’s basically nothing.

I guess. My great-uncle’s great at that stuff, but it never really took. 

Sounds like you need a hype man! Someone who can get the word out about your talents. A guy who could bolster your rep. Hell, you could be a real star! Everyone could hear about your hero junk, including in their DREAMS. In fact - I might even have a deal, just for you!

Dipper snorts. He saw this coming a mile away. A demon would, of course, try to sucker him into a bad deal. It’s their entire thing.

He doesn’t take it poorly, though, despite the danger. Bill’s own sales pitch is clearly an off the cuff reflex, rather than a real swing at it. Like Stan pitching an ‘extended warranty’ to a customer, even when they’ve already bargained him down on the price of a souvenir.

Uh huh. Let me guess. I sell my soul, then your ad is going to be, like, ‘HEY! Hire this guy or you’ll find snakes in your bed! In your socks! In your wheat and wheat byproducts! Save yourself from snake terror and do it today!’

There’s a suspiciously long pause before the next reply.

Look, it doesn’t have to be snakes. There’s plenty of critters you can stuff into a cereal box.

The telltale tone of a conman who knows his pitch was shit. Dipper smirks.

Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll handle my own advertising. You’ve already taught me a few things about having a massive bloated ego. 

Ha ha! You’re sassy company when you get worked up, human, it’s pretty hilarious! Like a hissy kitten or a dragon cub! Including all the sharp bits.

Dipper forces the smile off his face, frowning again. He’s not a kitten, for one. No matter how he sneezes. And two - that was barely a compliment, and only if the receiver is already weird.

Bill might be clever. He has his own strange charisma. Definitely a type of fascinating, intelligent monster - but he’s also evil and a jerk. 

Still. He figures he’ll keep talking to the guy. It’s not like there’s too much danger, what with him literally being in another dimension. 

Besides, how long has it been since he’s talked to anyone but his great-uncle about magic, in this  much detail? Longer than Dipper can remember, that’s for sure. For all that Bill’s a demonic dickwad, anyone who wanted to learn complicated spells would be lucky to talk to him.

A thought strikes. 

Dipper looks up from the demon phone. Darting a glance to his notebook, then back at the artifact. 

Strange magic. Impossible spells. The scene of the crime, with this object buried under bits of the destruction. 

The culprit was there, in the museum. And that fire he uses. It defies most known magic physics, powerful and weird. Not to mention the giant anvil incident, or the animated water tower, and half of the really weird curses, all of them requiring magical knowledge and power - 

Where did Dipper’s target learn his special spells?

Thinking carefully about his words, he types out a quick question. Very casual, avoiding details that might lead to suspicion.

Speaking of company. Has anyone else talked to you recently? 

Nah, it’s been a few centuries. You humans are usually pretty boring!

Grimacing, Dipper sighs. That’s a bad sign for his theory. He presses further.

So there ISN’T actually a group of people, quote, ‘craving your infinite knowledge’? A bunch of guys you’re feeding secret demon information?

Hey!! Of course I’m in high demand, I’m fantastic. But I’m ALSO not passing my number out to every mortal who wanders by, jackass. I have standards! High ones!

Dipper mulls over that statement. He’s only known Bill for a few hours, but he’s sure that teaching a human how to cause tons of chaos on Earth? Is totally up his alley. 

And because he’s known him for hours, he thinks that was actually true. 

Changing the topic, or filling the chat with distractions. Anything that would lead Dipper down the merry trail of another topic - all of that would be very demonic, and very suspicious. 

Confrontation of a question, and one Dipper didn’t know he was asking, is a different story.

Bill’s not lying, surprisingly enough. He’s annoyed, because Dipper implied he was a… loose woman. Demon. Whatever their equivalent is. 

Letting out a disappointed sigh, Dipper runs a hand through his hair. 

If he’s the first human to talk to Bill in hundreds of years… Then the target didn’t ever have the phone, much less conveniently drop it at the scene of his crime. He came by his power in some other dishonest, evil way. 

Welp. It was worth a shot, even if it was one in the dark. Back to square one, then.

Though what Bill said does bring up another question. 

That’s funny. You’ve spent a lot of time talking to me.

Yeah, yeah, I’ll admit it - You’re fun enough! Silence is only golden when I’m in it, and even then it gets boring. 

I mighta picked someone less goody-two-shoes personally, but you got brains, kid. That’s rare.

This time, Dipper allows himself to smile. He’s not so paranoid as to turn his nose up at an actual compliment. 

Same to you. For a demon, I guess you’re not as awful as I thought you’d be.

Ha ha ha! Oh, cutie - I’m worse! A real bad boy, as you mortals say! Ten bucks says that’s your thing, am I right?

Warmth builds in Dipper’s face. That’s - He shuts his eyes, rubbing them briefly. 

Okay. He must be interpreting that wrong. These beings are super weird. And Bill’s a jerk. Besides, he’s probably some… multi-eyed flesh tangle, or giant cockroach. Maybe even an abstract concept. 

That was just a condescending comment from a condescending being, devoid of any human meaning. Best not to read too much into it.

For lack of a better response, he texts back, Shut up.

Never! Too bad I gotta run for now, but I know I’ll be hearing from you. You’re a curious guy! Just filled to the brim with it!

And I got plenty of ways to satisfy.

Dipper starts typing a response, but the keyboard's gone. The last bit of Bill’s message slowly fades until the screen goes dark again. 

Okay, it’s - whatever. So Dipper didn’t get the last word in. He didn’t need to anyway. 

Dropping the demon phone, he pulls the flat hotel pillow over his face. If he doesn’t see the damn texts, maybe they’ll stop lingering in his head.

 God, if this is what the slightest bit of attention does to him, he’s really got to download the dating apps again. Or talk to his family more than a phone call once every few days. Talk to real, actual humans.

He’s just been on the road too long, is all. When’s the last time he had a conversation with someone that wasn’t about work? Much less a person who’s kind of. Way more confident than him, and pretty smart, with a weird charm in his tone.. 

Dipper slaps himself on the forehead, dragging a hand down his face. He makes a ‘blguh’ sound, reminding himself not to get distracted.

That conversation did last a while, though. Night has long since fallen. No major magical mishaps have occurred to drag him out of this shitty bed. The brief respite comes as a profound relief. 

Dipper yawns, rolling onto his side. 

Weird extradimensional conversation aside, he’s got a big day tomorrow. Doing important stuff. Solving this mystery. Finding the man responsible for all the trouble, and making sure he never manages it again.

If he can manage it. If he can find him in the first place. If he doesn’t get burnt to a crisp in the confrontation, or run out of money on a dead-end endeavor, or look like a total idiot by finding a guy but it turns out to be the wrong one, making him start from scratch. 

A thousand possibilities of failure. A billion ways things could go wrong. Dipper shoves his face into the pillow, and tries to quiet his own thoughts.

Eventually, tossing and turning, he manages a restless sleep.

The next day’s surprisingly quiet. No major magical incidents, no screams in the streets. A pretty calm day, all things considered.

As always, Dipper goes through the motions, setting up his ritual circle and sitting in mediation. His senses creep into the thin net of magic, searching for any movement like a spider in a web.

The only way he's found to keep up with the culprit is tracing the energy of his incantations, and following the leylines like they’re a roadmap. They vibrate like a plucked note on a string, right before each incident. Tracking such a vague line is a stretch for most magicians; even Dipper’s gotten turned around once or twice.

Problem is, he has to wait until the culprit’s already cast his magic to be able to follow his trail. By the time he catches up to the jerk’s location, nobody’s been there to pin the blame on. Even the few witnesses he’s spoken to have little to report. 

The upside is that said reports are very consistent. The descriptions are of a blonde man, fairly tall. Wearing a too-big smile along with too-formal fashion - and nobody is ever sure how he got in the place or out again. 

It adds a few hangups, but the similar description helps Dipper’s theory. It’s the same person, every time. One or two people might agree on a few details out of sheer chance. Nearly two dozen, all with the same image, is proof.

Now if only someone knew where to find the bastard.

There are cases and monsters that are ‘more important’, he guesses. In body count, at least. Single digit deaths - even if they’re weirdly creative ones - doesn’t sound super cool on a ‘monster hunting’ resume, considering what others can, and do, get up to.

That doesn’t mean this criminal isn’t a big deal, though. Somehow, the major magic they're doing has ripple effects. One of their ‘minor’ incidents can stir up enough latent magic in the area to lead to half a dozen smaller events, weeks or months later. 

Somehow, this jerk is causing more flat-out chaos than every other monster combined, by a factor of five. 

Dipper knows. He’s done the math. 

He sits in intent focus for a long time; a half an hour when he checks his watch after. The tracing spell is intact, invisibly waiting for something to stumble over its tripwire.

Nothing has, though. Wherever his target holed up for the night, he hasn’t moved on since. 

Maybe the plan is to pull something else in town. Or maybe one of those artifacts he melted exploded right in his face, leaving the jerk recuperating, or even dead. That would serve him right. 

Either way, Dipper won’t know until either a body is found, or the guy makes a move. The odds of stumbling across the culprit are pretty low. 

Dipper leaves the circle set up, just in case. A couple quick cantrips later, and it’s connected to his watch. If there’s any movement, he’ll know in a heartbeat. 

Though if he’s being honest? He hopes there isn’t, at least for a while. Running around in this criminal’s footsteps is a job in and of itself.

God, it’d be nice to have a vacation one day.

Dipper stretches as he steps out into bright sunlight. For the last week he’s been constantly on the move, driving on backwoods roads and through tangled cities and just. Staying up too late. Wondering what the mysterious criminal is up to. One uninterrupted if restless night’s sleep has helped his mood.

When this is over, he’s going to go ahead and take a full week off. Maybe a month. Let himself lounge around in bed without a care, in a place he doesn’t rent out night to night. Long, luxurious showers where he doesn’t have to spring out at the next notification, or figure out how to get where he’s headed next. Something nice and calm and… 

Well, not totally free of chaos. Dipper could have taken an office job somewhere, or worked in the government, if that’s what he wanted. But maybe a year or so at less of a breakneck pace. Fewer massively dangerous monsters.

That reminds him. Dipper pauses at the hotel entrance, patting his pockets. 

Yep, one regular phone, one demonic. Good thing, too. If anyone else got their hands on that artifact, it could spell total disaster. 

He breathes it in slowly, before feeling a pang of hunger that comes with an audible growl. Skipping dinner yesterday, probably not his best choice. 

The good news is, in a morning surprisingly full of it, is that there’s a diner in walking distance. It isn’t even expensive. 

Dipper holes up in a booth in the corner, relieved at the lack of other customers. More peace, more quiet. The waitress fills his coffee without comment, and the bitter burn of it makes him feel more human after the first two cups. 

There’s a quick beep from his phone. He puts down the coffee, reaching for his pocket - then pauses. 

It wasn’t his regular notification sound. 

It was weird.

Dipper checks over his shoulder, a paranoid instinct. Again it’s quiet, not early enough for the early birds and not late enough for lunch. And hell, even if most of the diner wasn’t empty, it’s not like anyone cares about a person texting. Nobody can tell who or what he’s talking to.

He pulls the artifact out. The scrawl on the screen has their old messages, plus one new one.

Hey! Bored again! Whatcha up to, kid?

Dipper rolls his eyes. 

Bill is many things - demon, weird, intelligent, astute. Total jerk. Surely he has better things to do than text the mortal that ended up with his weird-ass artifact. If he knows what phones are, surely he has internet.

Still, he writes back. Maybe more boring stuff will get on Bill's possibly nonexistent nerves.

Pancakes. You?

Booo, that’s lame! I thought your life was more exciting than this! At least say something about crazy syrup flavors, I’m dying here.

Sorry, no dice. Normally my job keeps me pretty busy. but I have a nice, boring day off today. Assuming nothing goes wrong. 

Now there’s a topic! We covered the problem-solver bit earlier - but I know you’re not just doing BASIC stuff, because spying on you isn’t working as great as I’d like! What kinda wards you got up? Go into extra detail! It’s totally safe!

Suddenly checking over his shoulder doesn’t feel like enough paranoia. Dipper scoots a little further into the diner booth, hunching over. It’s not every day he remembers to put up those protections. Now he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget again. 

Don’t think they’re doing you THAT much good, anyway! I know what city you’re in!

Dipper sits up straighter.

Aha. ‘City’, Bill says. Not ‘neighborhood’ or ‘building’, or even ‘the backmost booth in that crappy diner’. Bill might have the broad strokes of where he’s located, but it’s far less specific than he’s letting on.

Wow. Totally not suspicious, Bill. Definitely letting my guard down now.

Can’t blame a guy for trying! 

Entertain me, then. It’s not like you got anything better going on, you said so yourself! Spill the beans, kid! How ‘bout starting with a name?

Giving out his name should be safe-ish. Technically it’s a nickname anyway, so there’s not too much awful stuff Bill could pull. 

It’s Dipper. 

What, like a hillbilly’s tin cup?

Like the constellation, dumbass.

Ol' Ursa Major, huh? And here I had pegged you for more of a twink than a bear!

How does Bill even know those words? Where would he - actually, Dipper doesn’t want to know. Bill probably ate someone’s brains, or picked it up in some wet dream. Whatever gross method a ‘dream demon’ uses to learn about human life.

I don’t even know how to respond to that, so I won’t. 

What about you? What are you up to?

Today, not much! Normally I do whatever’s fun at the time! Making nightmares, eating childhood memories, robbing interdimensional banks, texting cute guys, that sorta thing. A few other extracurriculars when I get the chance. 

Dipper blinks a few times. He has to set the phone down, rubbing at his temples. 

Why does his imagination have to be overactive at the worst times. He really has to get out more. Better yet, he should put this phone down, pick up the other, and start swiping right on whoever’s nearby.

Before he can even begin to formulate a response, Bill texts again. 

Right now, though, I’m waiting out a multiversal cosmos disruption. Kinda like being stuck inside during terrible weather! It’s a real drag staring out the window watching the debris fly by and not even being the one who caused it.

Wow. Rampant destruction! Sounds like a totally ethical hobby. 

Ethics, shmethics! What a totally human hangup. Don’t you ever have any fun?

Dipper spends a few seconds thinking how to respond. Of course he has fun, he’s got the most fun-loving sister ever, and he’s… 

Okay, maybe the last time he met up with someone for ‘fun’ was Mabel. And technically it’s been almost a year since they’ve been face to face - but he still does stuff on his own! Occasionally. 

Other things are more important. He can do ‘fun’ stuff later. Once this particular case is over, he’ll actually have some time for it.

Another beep catches his attention.

The silence speaks VOLUMES. Jeez, is it all work, work, work with you? You didn’t seem like that big a stick in the mud!

I’ve just. Been busy.

Busy NOT HAVING FUN!!! 

Yeah, well. Some of us have stuff like ‘bills’, that aren’t you, to pay. And reputations they’re building. 

The advertisement deal’s still on offer, btw! Take it up anytime!

No thanks, and a little go fuck yourself. 

HA! Gosh, you’re cute. But we were talking about FUN, here! You gotta have some hobbies, right?

Nothing as exciting as ‘rampant chaos’.

C’mon, kid, I’m asking. Indulge me. Movies? Games? Bloody revenge? And as for chaos - don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it. I got PLENTY of tricks in that vein and they all RULE. Ever thrown a building on someone who annoyed you?

Dipper thinks back on the trick Bill showed him yesterday. The change and redirection. The power required… 

It’s an exaggeration. Has to be. Or more likely, knowing demons, it requires some horrible sacrifice - but Dipper can see how others would find it tempting.

…Okay, I’ll admit it sounds cool if they’re unoccupied, but seriously, I’m gonna pass.

Eh, you’ll change your mind. I’m always gonna be around! You’ll take a deal one day!

Shut up. Anyway, I like puzzles? And spells and magic and stuff. But you already knew that. 

And…???

And mystery novels, and action movies, and, uh. Dungeons, dungeons and more dungeons, which yeah, I know, nerdy. Honestly, a lot of nerd stuff. 

I bet you’re gonna start typing ‘nerd’ in allcaps then backspace once you read me owning it.

A few seconds after he sends that, the typing dots appear, then disappear. Dipper smirks.

Whatever, NERD. I bet you’ve been ‘too busy’ with your boring ‘job’ to even kill some player characters in a fantasy game! Didja cast your character sheet in a fire and ritually burn your d20 when you gave up ALL joy in life?

….Okay, it’s been a bit, but fuck off.

Also, ‘nerd’. Says the guy who knows what a d20 is.

I know everything, kid! Doesn’t make me a nerd like you!

Says the guy who does advanced magical calculus

Oh, please. Big shot talking here. It comes with the territory! 

Dipper sits up straighter. Now that’s a blatant lie. ‘Big shot’ or not, nobody delves that deep in theory unless they’re paid to or they like it. 

Dude, I could copy/paste you having OPINIONS about Ergot’s Transition Theorem from YESTERDAY. 

Total nerd stuff.

Bill’s furious response comes with a warmth under Dipper’s palms, and a faint blue flame on the screen - though not nearly as hot as yesterday. He snorts, watching the typing dots as they last for over a minute.

They bicker back and forth, quick and easy and - Dipper has to admit it - kind of fun. Bill’s ego is huge and he loves insulting people. Maybe he doesn’t have many people insult him back, because he keeps being surprised when Dipper has a retort.

So far - and it will be so far, by Bill’s own admission - talking to a demon doesn’t seem too dangerous. 

Whatever else Bill might want, his main motivation genuinely seems to be entertainment. Nobody texts randomly about technically mundane stuff unless they're bored. Or continues the conversation unless they're enjoying it.

It's clear, under all the bluster and ego, that Bill's truly excited to have a new person to talk to. Someone who shares his interests, who can keep up a conversation, intriguing and combative in equal portions… 

Yeah, Dipper sees how that would be enough to keep talking to some random weirdo. Even if it’s not a great idea. 

Bill also seems to be angling for something. Dipper can’t tell what it is. It’s just a sense he has, from an odd turn of phrase here and there, a couple indiscernible metaphors. 

He’s still frowning at a sentence - it came through in odd symbols instead of English  - when the next line comes in.

So I take it you’re NOT dating a whole bunch of cute guys, gals, or other assorted entities, then using their heartbreak to power your motorcycle?

I’m like, 99% sure you can’t actually use heartbreak that way, and I don’t have a motorcycle. Also, no, not seeing anyone. 

So if you’re trying to use a boyfriend or whatever to get to me, you’re out of luck.

Ha! Your lack of love life isn’t a problem, sapling! The opposite of one, in fact!

Dipper raises an eyebrow. Every time he thinks he knows what Bill’s up to, he finds another way to be bizarre. 

Another statement it’s probably better to ignore. The questions are constant. And he doesn’t have to answer all of them. Honestly, it’s a better idea not to. Demon, after all.

But if Bill’s going to interrogate him, it’s only fair to flip the script.

I think it’s MY turn to ask questions.

Sure, why not? Go for it!

That was easy. Perhaps too easy. 

Dipper narrows his eyes, but his mind races with questions. Ones he’s never had the chance to ask, things that couldn’t be found with rumors or books or even deadly personal interactions. 

Getting honest answers from an extradimensional being is the type of thing scholars would have fistfights over. 

Dipper, though, is handling this super well. He only has to delete a half-dozen sentences before he decides to keep it short. 

Tell me about being a demon. 

Like, where do you even live? Do you have a house? A den? Do you live in groups, or is this a solitary thing? 

Do you guys even HAVE love lives or were you just trying to egg me on about being single.

Pfft, not ALL demons sit around in caves waiting to snag anything nearby. You must be talking about those low-level chumps! I’m way more important!

See, you’re talking to one of the top dogs in the whole biz. An infinite being of pure energy! I got a penthouse at the top level of my own terror pyramid, the realm of the mind under my thumb, a cool group of henchmen - AND I’m single and ready to mingle! 

Taking that with a huge dose of salt, Dipper scribbles it down in his notes. At least half of that must be bragging. Major demons don’t just ‘hang out’ with humans, they devour them - but it’s interesting to see how Bill sees himself.

What’s it like over there? Actually, where the hell are you? Hell?

He finally asks! I thought I’d have to bring it up! And no, it’s not hell - it’s WAY weirder than that!

Dipper holds the demon phone a little further away from himself, suddenly wary. Even though he’s only known the guy for like a day, he senses the floodgates opening.

Bill’s going to brag.

I’ve got full reign of the liminal space known as the Nightmare Realm. The whole vast unconscious squished like a ripe eyeball under my thumb, AND it’s a pretty wild place to be! It’d blow your tiny mind if I wasn’t saving that for myself!

Like last week, there was this party, y’see? So I was at the bar, and - And there it is. 

Demon information. Right from the source, and best of all: absolutely free from any so-called ‘deals’. 

Since Dipper asked indirectly, the facts come in the same manner. Less of a list, more of a longwinded story told from the perspective of someone who always thinks he’s the main character. Dipper has to glean them through Bill’s stories for the details, rather than being instructed. But that, in turn, ensures that they’re actually true.

Well, mostly true. A significant portion of his notes get marked with a new little notation symbol he made up, just for Bill: Probably Exaggerated

Dipper’s hand cramps trying to keep up. Syrup is smudged in his notebook, making the pages stick together. He licks his thumb trying to wipe them off, then just puts tongue to page instead. 

Still, it goes on for long enough that the torrent eventually slows. The more minor details repeat; the stories become less ‘what the fuck’ for demon power and culture reasons, and more ‘what the fuck’ for Bill-related ones.

Also, he’s absolutely bragging. To an extent that quickly evolves from ‘annoying’ to ‘obnoxious’, right around into ‘make fun of this guy’.

That part ends up entertaining. Bickering over whether or not Bill is a ‘big shot’, or ‘super cool’. He might portray himself that way, but there’s got to be more to it. 

Unfortunately Dipper can’t argue on the cultural level - but he can match Bill’s level of sheer annoyance. People have always said his pedantry is irritating? Fine. Here’s a perfect target.

They go back and forth, over and over again. Dipper pulls as much semantics as possible to undercut his opponent’s ego, poking holes in every definition Bill tries to twist in his favor. Citing examples, where he can, where Bill could be interpreted as the massive freakin’ dork he actually is. And while he’s only about ten percent successful, it still feels like a victory.

After a particularly nice jab, that has Bill sending >>>:( without any additional text, Dipper sits back in the booth with smug satisfaction.

Nearby, the waitress clears her throat, startling him out of his triumph. With a raised eyebrow, she drops the check, giving his empty plate a pointed look.

By now it’s lunch, and his seventh refill of coffee's cold. He didn’t realize how much time had passed.

He hunches over the phone, feeling faintly embarrassed. 

Look, I gotta go, but, uh. It’s been nice. Talk to you later.

Aww, what a shame. But hey! When you wanna start a conversation - tap three times on the screen, then whisper my name like you’re telling a dying man you’re the one that poisoned him!

Dipper frowns at the screen, then rolls his eyes. Yeah, that tracks. Contacting a demon would have to be in the weirdest way possible. 

He shoves the phone back in his pocket, paying and leaving the diner. He’s well aware that talking to a demon is a terrible idea. That Bill could trick him, somehow, or have a nefarious plan. After only a day, there’s no way to tell what this is building up to.

But until then, Bill is useful. Smart enough  resources will come in handy. Dipper will just have to keep an eye out for his real intentions, and not lose track of what he is.

Today , though, he can forget about all the chaos and the chase. Enjoying a quiet, peaceful day under a bright and cheerful sky. 

This, like all things, won’t last long.

[thebibliosphere]

It’s been a while since I fever dreamed the plot to something, but I just woke up from a literal fever dream set in a futuristic version of New York where Tom Hiddleston and his pet cyborg owl are entrenched in a spy thriller buddy-cop narrative, only to get swept up in the conflicting heartfelt rom-com narrative of Dakota Johnson who, after a series of unfortunate breakups, has sworn off love and committed herself heart and soul to her job as a curator at Futuristic Met Museum. This is much to the distress of her weed smoking, shroom taking trans lesbian mothers and their elderly dog, Jeff, who just want her to find happiness and love.

As part of his cover, Tom and his cyborg owl, Frank, move into the same apartment where he’ll be staying for several months while he plans to steal a diamond from the Met. I think if you held it up to the light it would project nuclear launch codes that’d been etched onto it. Don’t ask me, my brain was more focused on making the cyborg owl into the wise-cracking comic relief. It kept saying things like “wow Tom, you really are a jack of owl trades” or “don’t worry, Tom, owl always love you.”

The pair meet in the lobby where Tom manages to piss off Dakota by not holding the elevator for her while she is carrying heavy boxes. The apartment building, however, is old and shitty, and he gets stuck in the elevator, requiring him to be rescued by one of Dakota’s mothers who also happens to be the super. Dakota huffs her way out the stairwell just in time to hear her mother inviting the “nice British man” to dinner, much to her chagrin as she realizes that her mom is trying to set her up with the asshole and the cyborg owl that sits on his shoulder like a parrot.

Tom, who finds out she works for the met over said dinner, decides to go along with it as he realizes she’d be the perfect cover to get into the Met Museum for an upcoming gala event—not to mention the perfect person to take the fall for his theft—and begins wooing her relentlessly, assuring Frank, the cyborg owl, that it’s all just part of the mission.

Eventually, the pair fall for each other for realzies, and Tom is conflicted over using her to steal the diamond but his time is running out because we also find out he went rogue for a while after his partner died and was using his skills to work freelance for an international crime syndicate and now the mob is after him?????

Anyway, he’s about to confess all to her on the night of the gala when she gets a phone call from her moms letting her know that their elderly dog, Jeff, is dying so the pair rush back to the apartment and take him to the nearest cyborg vet in the hopes of saving him. En route, the mob find them and start shooting at the flying car they’re in and it leads to a comedic shouting match between the pair along the lines of “what do you mean you’re an international spy and the mob are after you? Ugh, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this sooner! I told you everything about me!”

“Oh, yes, your embarrassing high school stories are exactly the same thing as divulging international secrets. Tell you what, after this let’s get a coffee and I can tell you some highly sensitive top secret information to even out the playing field.”

Anyway, Frank the cyborg owl manages to take out the mob car chasing them with a grenade (????!), and the pair get Jeff to the cyborg vet in time. The dream shifted after that to Dakota helping Tom to figure out how to break into the Met so he can get the diamond, not because she loves him and he helped save her childhood dog, but because she wants him gone. Tom accepts her help and storms off to his own apartment where Frank the cyborg owl is poignantly silent save to say “take some Tylenol”

“…what?”

“Wake up, you need Tylenol.”

Which is what sent me rocketing upright in bed, dizzy and dehydrated, pounding migraine headache, drenched in sweat and running what the thermometer tells me is a 102 fever.

Which brings us to now where I’m downing Tylenol in the dimly lit kitchen, guzzling water and typing this all up on my phone because there’s no way I’m going to remember all this in the morning but damn if it wasn’t a fun dream.

Anyway, shout out to Frank the cyborg owl for waking me up before my brain fried ✌️🦉. I’m going back to bed.

[growingstories]

Growing stories

[abstract-crossverse]

Could you do Phobos x fem!reader headcanons? Pretty please with a cherry and sprinkles on top? 🙏🙏

Weeeell since you asked so nicely… Been a while since I wrote for Phobos lmao, I do love this director, also I'm so sorry I've been away for so long, I got hyperfixated on other things and just been working my life really I got a little carried away… Yall deserve something big for how long I’ve been away lol, enjoy I still don’t know when a name ends in s if I still use ‘s or just ‘ at the end of it when merging “is” to the name…

===================================

Phobos x Fem!Reader // [hc/fic, fluff]

You probably met while you worked as an engineer for Nexus, let's switch things around, I mostly see scientist readers or something, it's not a bad thing but I wanna explore engineers and soldats as well, buckle up

Here’s the thing that I should explain before anything, Nexus Engineers and Soldats are not yellow blooded, those were not made in the labs, alr? These are your everyday Joes who are a little more interesting than your casual grunt with their knowledge, engineers are promoted with their knowledge to fix things and good insight while Soldats are promoted with high combat skills and high ambition, endurance and shit, all of them start as normal agents, got it? Alr lets go

You probably didn't work for anyone in specific, freelancing and fixing anything you could for a quick buck, you had a good reputation as one of the best engineers around Nexus City though. Phobos caught wind of your existence while passing one of your buddies who did work for him, the Soldat was telling their co-workers about your skills and how “you could fix anything you touched”. He's really exaggerating here, but he’s always been supportive of you, we’ll call him…. Tom, for easy reference.

The Director grew skeptical of your skills, it almost sounded too good to be true, and with how highly this mortal was talking about you, you must be good, after all, this was one of his top soldats, he wouldn’t be lying if he knew what was good for him.

“Really? She’s that good?” Phobos’s voice boomed from the door to the break room, many of the grunts flinched and straightened their postures in the Director’s presence, including Tom, who scrambled to turn around — knocking over his chair in the process — singled out as the rest of the room took a step back. The soldat stammered, caught completely off guard by Phobos’s sudden appearance, tensing as the much taller grunt stepped closer.

“Answer me, Soldat, is she as good as you say she is?” He asked with a dangerously calm tone, it was threatening, as if the Soldat said one wrong word he’d be beheaded on the spot, Phobos couldn’t bother to remember his name. 

Tom swallowed the lump in his throat quietly as Phobos towered over him, his glaring red monocle almost casting a red spotlight on his face, he seemed to take a deep breath before answering confidently, “Yes sir, she is the best I’ve seen in a long time.”

One of the engineers scoffed at that, unfortunately just loud enough to make the Director shoot them a glare, making their blood run cold and lower their head in fear. Phobos hummed in acknowledgment, returning to Tom “... very well.” Phobos drew in a breath, “Lucky for her, we are still in need of recruits, especially engineers, so they can help with the machines and whatever else they do around the Tower. You will bring her here tomorrow for an interview, if she’s as good as you say, she will be hired.” with the demand in place, Phobos stood back up to his full height, looking down at Tom as he slightly shook in his boots.

“... and if I don’t..?” 

Phobos’s glare intensified at the question, Soldats always seemed to be curious about the most insignificant things, how dare he question Phobos’ orders. 

“Then I will personally make you an example as to why you shouldn’t lie about someone’s capacities to me.” He finished sharply, turning on his heel and marching out of the room, nearly knocking Tom over with the mere force of him being hit by his cape.

As soon as the employees thought Phobos was out of earshot, he could hear many of them reprimanding Tom for not shutting his mouth when he had the chance, it did make a grin tug at the corner of his lips, thinking the way most just immediately jumped on Tom for being a little too positive about your abilities and being caught was absolutely hilarious. However, if you truly were as good as Tom claimed, then you might just earn your spot in the Tower, yet another stepping stone for his plan of achieving Godhood.

When Tom came to you with the story, you… didn’t exactly know how to feel, flattered Tom spoke so highly of you? Annoyed he dragged you into this situation? Or scared of what Phobos might do to you if you didn’t meet his expectations… Either way, anxiety shot up, you had been questioning whether to apply to Nexus Core though, maybe actually get a full-time job instead of living off freelance, so this was the best time than any other to actually get that job. Or suffer Phobos’s wrath.

You dragged Tom inside your home to explain to you how the machines in Nexus Core looked so you didn’t have any surprises when going over. It was very bare bones; Tom knew nothing of machines aside from basically what they did, but it was enough to help you through and figure it out yourself.

When the next day came, you put on your self-assigned work clothes and got a ride with Tom to the Science Tower, yawning the majority of the way there. Tom had to go in early as shit due to his status, meanwhile, you usually got to sleep in unless you had a job, you weren’t used to the early routine, but nothing a cup of coffee on the way there didn’t fix.

Going through the Tower was long-winded, to say the least, the thing looked bigger on the inside, and the number of floors… Christ, you were starting to reconsider this opportunity on the 10th flight of stairs you had to go through, and you weren't even in the middle of the tower yet. But going around the rooms you normally would’ve never had clearance to as a normal visitor to the museum part of the place was good to know which type of electronics you’d be working with; they seemed… complicated, and it made you nervous.

Tom had been leading you by the hand because he just didn’t want you to get lost, and then get yelled at for it, so before you knew it you were faced with the Director’s entry doors. The guards were cold in their tones, requesting Tom state his business before letting you both through, and honestly, you were not surprised to see how huge the office was, what you didn’t expect though was to see other scientists working around in the same room, just right there next to the Director, you wondered if these were high-rank employees or if this was a way of keeping them under Phobos’s personal surveillance.

The Soldat let go of your hand and gave you a look of reassurance before you both looked at the towering silhouette at the top desk, seeming to admire his city out the window; the scene looked like something almost out of a movie. Tom took a deep breath before marching up to his office, with you following suit, pausing only for a moment to hear the G03LMs announce your approach.

As you approached his desk, he didn’t turn to you both just yet. Glancing at the other two Soldats standing guard to his sides made you double-take; they looked almost exactly like Tom did in uniform, only these guys seemed to have more buttons and pins on their uniforms than Tom did, those must be a bitch to take off every laundry day. Tom cleared his throat lightly before bowing his head to the Director, motioning for you to do the same before speaking.

“Director, I have brought the engineer you requested.” Tom announced almost as if talking to a king. 

Phobos turned from his wide window to look at you both, the light from the dawn outside highlighted very few parts of him; it almost looked like a painting if it didn’t look oddly terrifying. He seemed to take a moment to analyze you before lifting his hand and lowering it a couple of inches down. “At ease, Lieutenant. You too, Engineer.” he boomed, allowing you both to stand straight again. His tone was sharp, but not harsh, simply an order.

Phobos retracted his hand into his cape, you’re not too surprised he actually wears the thing, Tom’s told you about the times he accidentally or intentionally knocked people over with his cape whenever he came around for lunch. 

“I will take it from here, I’d like to get to know our… Possible recruit. Return to your duties, Lieutenant.” he ordered again, your eyebrows furrowed a bit as Tom nodded and spun on his heel, giving you a pat on the shoulder before marching away. Your anxiety spiked as you were left to stare up at Phobos on your own.

Okay, I'm getting too carried away here, let me speed things up a bit.

Phobos gives you an interview himself, normally it would be someone lower in rank due to his schedule being SO busy with paperwork, but again, Tom gloated about you so much he just had to see you with his own eye, completely valid reason, right? Yea, yea sure. Also, escaping from the amount of paperwork from their projects and agreements with other companies was a little nice.

He got your basic info, you answered his questions, that he had written in little slips of paper with basic answers under them he had a handful of the engineers write, he’s by no means a “tech nerd” like you engineers, but he did his best to grab the essential answer from your longer explanations with a smile on your face, you seem to enjoy mechanics, good, the ones with more passion seemed to give better results.

After all of that, he got up from his chair and walked around his desk to you, damn he was far taller than you anticipated. He said he’d give you a tour of the place and have you fix a couple of things with the other engineers, under his monitoring; we don't need you going somewhere you don't need to be, of course.

So the whole day you followed him around, grouped with a couple of random engineers in the facility; you successfully fixed something — which as much as these machines looked complicated they had pretty standard problems to be fixed so far. Around lunchtime, he took you back to his office which was mostly empty aside from some scientists finishing up work before quickly leaving to get their food and finish it within the 2-hour break Phobos gave them, which was surprising, most jobs didn't even give an hour. You may have off-mindedly muttered about that being nice, Phobos, seeing it as an opportunity to make a better impression and gloat a bit, claimed it was because he understands how huge and time-consuming getting up and down the tower to the food court and back was, plus, he enjoyed the time to himself that the break gave.

One long and unnecessary speech about how great of an asset you’ll make to Nexus Core, how he sees great potential in you, and how he can see you climbing the ranks quickly later… You're hired! Congrats, you work for the minion look-alike now. Yippee.mp3. He gave you a handshake, let you know where you could get the proper uniform for your work, and set you free to go home, saying you’d start that next Monday. Telling the good(?) news to Tom on your way out, he took you out for a celebratory lunch at your favorite place. At least he was happy you’d get to see each other more often; work always got in the way of your hangouts.

Either way, working at the Tower isn’t as bad as you thought it would be, most of the time at least; you got to know a couple of Tom’s other friends and co-workers around your first day, setting you up with one of his most “trustworthy” engineer friend. Much to their dismay, Tom begged them to babysit you until you got the hang of things in return for like… 5 favors he’d owe them in return. We’ll call this one Kai. 

Kai did as promised, giving you a more in-depth rundown of how certain machines worked and what their most common problems to fix were just to give you a heads up, claiming they were feeling generous enough to let you know. Allowing you to take the lead in fixing some of these machines similar to how Phobos did in your interview, quizzing you from time to time on the machines, what they did, or how to fix a certain problem.

As much as they were incredibly monotonous in their voice, you could tell they were just as passionate about mechanics as you were.

Something you did notice throughout the day, however, was that the Director himself was around very often.

“Yep, that’s correct once again, great job [Name].” Kai gave you a tired nod and praise as you answered their question about the cloner in front of you correctly, glad you were paying attention to their ramblings about the machine earlier. You smiled at them behind your mask, hoping they saw how your eyes squinted to know so before they began to speak again.

“Now, this one has been having some problems with faulty wiring, I’ll fix this once since this equipment is so delicate, but I need you to watch and learn how it’s fixed so you-” Their thought process was interrupted halfway through unscrewing the machine’s control panel, raising their head and looking into space for a moment before looking at the doors to the room expectantly, cycling through every couple seconds, did they hear something? You mostly just heard the beeps and scribbles from the machines and the scientists, though… you felt some slight vibration at your feet. “.. is something wrong?” 

“... The Director’s coming… again… don't do anything-” 

“stupid, I know.” you finished their phrase as they continued with their work, feeling the vibrations of his footsteps approaching far clearer than before, ‘there are 3 doors leading to this room, two on the east and west, and one north-east up a staircase, it doesn’t feel like the footsteps are coming from above but I can’t tell where the sound of his boots are coming from, but… I’m willing to bet the… east door?’

The sound of a door opening to your right had half of the people in the room looking towards it, mainly those who were so lost in their work to notice, including you and Kai. ‘huh, it was the east… lucky guess..?’

You didn’t dare look at the Director for too long, after all, you had to focus on what Kai was doing… Kai, who was inspecting what the much taller grunt was doing with interest for a minute or so before going back to work with a light huff, sounded.. Baffled? You wondered what was wrong as you watched them mess with the wires, disconnecting and reconnecting a couple of set wires before starting to close the panel again, they worked fast that’s for sure.

“See? It’s pretty easy once you know which must be reconnected or switched around. Sometimes in a hurry some other engineers or scientists who don't know what they're doing mess up the wires and make the machine faulty.. The nerve of some people…” they muttered with a disappointed look, making you chuckle briefly before nodding in agreement, not before you felt a familiar looming presence behind you, though.

The large hand on your shoulder made you flinch as the Director’s voice nearly reverberated in your chest with how close he was, like a loud bass in giant speakers. 

“Heyy, how���s the work going-... [Name]..! Liking this magnificent Tower so far?" His tone was far friendlier than you’ve heard before, a smile clear in his tone; it seemed like he struggled to remember your name for a moment but you wouldn't blame him if it was the case, with so many workers here and this being your first day…

“Oh! Uh- great! The work- well, the introduction is going great! I do.. Enjoy it here!” you answered a half-truth with a nervous smile behind your mask, you knew he probably couldn't see it but expressions die hard. “Good! Good! And- hello to you too….. Kaaaailee, yes, Kailee.'' The pause with Kai’s name was longer, and the confidently incorrect answer made it painfully obvious he genuinely didn't remember their name; it was almost charming, just a bit.

“Close yet far, sir.” Kai mumbled to themselves as they gave him a small bow “Hello, Director.”

“How’s your work?” he questioned with a small tilt of his head, his hand still firmly placed on your shoulder. 

“Nearly done, sir. I’m just teaching Ms. [Name] here how our cloners work.” Kai gestured to you as Phobos nodded with satisfaction. 

“Good good, delightful. Anyway, I must get back to my duties. You treat our new engineer well, Kailee, we don’t want a 2-week’s notice so soon!” Phobos’s laugh echoed through the room, sounding almost cartoonishly villainous as he gave two firm pats on Kai’s back before walking off through the west door.

You gave him an awkward wave even if he didn't see it, a hand lingering on the warm spot from his hand on your shoulder for a moment, ‘... that was weird’ you thought before turning your attention back to Kai, who looked to be in slight pain, leaning against the cloner for support.

“... you good?” your hand placed on their shoulder gently, concern starting to lace your voice, Kai let out a small groan in annoyance. “He never knows how to regulate his strength… either way, that was quite the odd interaction.” They stood back up straight. 

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t be clueless. You noticed him following us too, right?” You paused before nodding with an unsure look, “Yeah- well, I mean.. It could just be a coincidence, right?” Kai shrugged their shoulders, 

“Maybe, but the patterns are just too convenient…”

“Patterns?” you questioned, giving them way to elaborate “Well, when he comes around, he scans the room quietly before he focuses in our direction, then tries to act natural by looking over other people before gravitating to where we are. Looking over us or- like he just did, and maybe strikes a conversation.”

“It is a little odd when you put it like that, but doesn't he monitor new people like me too? Surely this is normal-” Kai held up a hand, something you caught on to mean he wanted to stop you mid-sentence before speaking, interrupting you but not at the same time. “Not really, no, at least not that I’ve seen.. He never did that with me at least, nor with any other engineers that I’ve trained before.”

You were about to speak before another engineer passed by you, butting into your conversation. 

“I think yer thinkin’ into it too much again, Kai. Yer scarin’ the poor gal.” he softly punched the taller engineer on the arm, holding a box labeled ‘parts’ under his other arm, the thick southern accent being the first thing you noticed before processing his appearance, he turned to you. “Don’t ye worry yer tiny head about it, rookie, I’ve seen Ol’ Bos monitor some other newbies more closely like that befo’. Seems he does this stuff to ones who he thinks are troublemakers or ‘ave had a bad impression o’ him or Nexus as a whole! Ye don’t seem like the trouble kind, he’s probably just tryna give you a good impression or sumthin’.” he shrugged, stealing your bonnet for a moment to ruffle your hair lightly with a laugh before handing your hat back to you and walking off without another word.

Kai sighed with a shake of his head, rubbing the spot he was punched at as you fixed your hair with a light chuckle, “he’s in good spirits at least.” you mentioned as you repositioned your bonnet on your head, “I guess… he could be right, or not, Phobos is… a bit unpredictable at times… I hate it.” Kai complained as you chuckled again, he motioned for you to follow again, your shift wasn’t over yet and there was more machinery to fix.

I love expanding like this, even if this is probably not what you wanted, I’ll try to speed this up again.

Even after your first day, Phobos kept… lowkey stalking you through your first week, especially after Kai stopped holding your hand through things; you boiled it down to just being him making sure you're not getting into any trouble by yourself, though, it started becoming a bit more obvious that wasn’t the true intention as he started ‘accidentally’ bumping into you on the halls or taking the same elevator to places, sometimes even walking into you seemingly without noticing as you tried getting to Tom and Kai, who often invited you to have lunch with them at the break room if you weren't getting food at the patio.

Phobos didn't understand why he felt compelled to see you, he’s monitored newbies a few times, so this shouldn't be any different, yet… it was.

Most would try to get away as soon as possible unless he actively requested to have a talk with someone, no one dared stay around for long, they feared him, it was always the intent, to be feared, respected, to be this City’s GOD. Yet you were different, you weren’t scared; nervous at most, but it didn’t seem to be directed towards his presence completely. You consumed his thoughts when he was attempting to do his work, his mind gravitating to your face, your mannerisms, your laugh… It was frustrating, what had you done to him? It’s only been a couple of weeks and he’s enamored by you, he’s been attracted to other people before, albeit before he became Director, but it never seemed to go past their appearances, but this? This was bigger, this was more.

It didn’t take long for him to make sense of his thoughts, sure, a couple frustrations didn’t go unexpressed as he seemed to be unpredictable around. One day he’d be all gleeful and conversational with you, the other he’d be distant and judgemental, you assumed he was simply having stressful days… but your gut said to ask, to figure out what was wrong with your boss, especially since some of your coworkers found themselves with the short end of his temper.

So you asked, slipping into his office after the doormen left for lunch, you knew he was in there, he said he enjoyed the time for himself. The office was empty aside from his hunched-over shadow up at his desk, he didn’t hear you slip in as your boots clicked against the floor, making your way up to him.

He had his head resting in one hand as his other held a pen to a paper he didn't seem to read, simply staring straight down, taken by his thoughts. Soon you stood in front of his desk, holding his (allegedly) favorite cup of tea you had gotten based on his orders from the cafeteria in your hands, trying to find a way to gently snap him out of his thoughts without it backfiring harshly on you. Pulling down your mask from your face and letting it lay over your upper chest as you called out his name softly.

Took about 3 times and light taps on his desk for him to see you were there, irritation shifting to surprise to see you in his office, much more without your mask, he hadn’t seen your face properly since the interview… Clearing his throat, he asked what you were doing here, you explained that you were worried about him, and how stressed he was lately, so you came to ask if he wanted to talk, to rant, anything to make him less stressed just so he doesn’t end up killing anyone for a minor mistake sending him over the edge.

… You… wanted to talk… with him? I mean of course you would, he’s Nexus’ God-Emperor and Director after all, why wouldn’t you? Your words warmed his chest, you cared? You didn’t seem like the lying kind, and he had no reason to believe you would lie to him…

Of course, your request to spend time with him was accepted with a welcome, if you were anyone else he might have thrown you out of the window though. Your lunchtime was spent listening to the Director rant about anything he felt like telling you, about the worries of a certain grunt going against his cause, the stress of his goals, and the annoyance that was needed to cater to MERC and their demands for G03LMs, the angry and poorly written emails from their manager still sat in his drafts as he tried to word an unhostile email, it was hard!

He didn’t elaborate on certain things, but you didn’t pry, maybe if you did he’d get more stressed, that wasn’t your current goal. Though you couldn’t help but feel charmed by his demeanors, obviously he didn’t pass on opportunities to gloat about himself, but after he was done ranting, he asked to know more about yourself. It surprised you he was interested in your life at all, but he insisted, so you complied.

You both lost track of time, talking and laughing about funny stories from your lives and even gossiping about things outside and in the tower. Your previous image of Phobos had been broken, that intimidation and nervousness vanishing like smoke in the air, he was just like you and the others, if not a little up his ass but he was still a grunt like everyone else; He liked to gossip, he enjoyed technology and what it could do, he enjoyed comedy, horror, and action movies.

The more you talked, the more the both of you fell for each other, at some point he had forgotten to drink his tea, by the time Lunch was over and his guards came back wondering what you both were laughing about, the tea was cold.

You were disappointed to need to go back to work but you had machines to work on, Phobos suggested you pick up your conversation again the next day. And so followed your new routine, you’d come to work, do your thing, and stay with Phobos for the lunch hour until you went back to work, he even started messaging you after a while to send you goodnights or for you to elaborate on certain things he was really curious about from your conversations earlier.

It took a few months for him to ask you out, and even longer to finally ask you to be his. He made a big deal out of it, of course, it was something private between you both but he went all out on it, flowers, tuxedo, your favorite treat, the works. You made it official on the Tower’s rooftop, watching the sunset together.

He loves you just as much as he loves himself, dare I say even more, his diamond, his queen, he wants you to rule alongside him when he achieves Godhood. He hasn’t told you the full extent of his plans though, you know it's important but he won't elaborate on what he’s trying to do.

He loves PDA, getting a kick of showing others you’re his and only his, kisses, handholding, gentle touches along your sides and shoulders, etc. he doesn’t care about who sees you together, in fact, how dare they stare in the first place.

Phobos can be a bit of a jealous partner, getting protective and possessive of you at times if you hang out with your friends for what he deems to be too long. Later when you're both alone, he’ll remind you of who you belong to with long, deep kisses, and hold you against him, trapped in his arms. It’s nothing too rough to overwhelm you, he’d never forgive himself if he dared hurt you, he tries to take it lightly and playfully, trying to make you giggle even if he’s serious about his words.

Regardless he just wants you well, if you’re in any pain at all he WILL just give you the day off, mayhaps he’ll even excuse himself to keep you in his bedroom, staying with you and getting you anything you need, painkillers, water, anything you crave at the time. Spoils the HELL out of you, and will cling to you as long as you're comfortable.

Speaking of that, he’s a HUGE fan of physical touch. He’ll trace his nails along your back and gently rub your thighs when cuddling, trace his thumb along your knuckles when holding hands, touch legs when just sitting next to each other, and can't hold hands, rest his head on your shoulder and hug you if you're sitting on his lap. Playing with your hair… He’ll never admit he’s a fan of romance books, he’s always wanted to do this with someone, and with you he can finally relax and be soft-ish for once.

Also, he’s big spoon when you cuddle, he enjoys holding you more than anything, but if you insist on him being little spoon he won't protest much, being held is nice too.

If you have a spot when you keep your things at the tower he’ll take the time to leave you little gifts, mainly small things that you mentioned you’d like to buy some time or something, flowers, treats, even just little notes to lift your spirits. He enjoys being romantic, and if it means it’ll bring a smile to your lovely face then so be it.

Some of your co-workers are slightly concerned about your relationship, warning you of his manipulative ways at times, others can't be bothered to say anything because you keep Phobos in good spirits, and keep them from being yelled at so whatever. But he’d never manipulate you I’m sure… right?

Nicknames! My Dear, Starlight, My Love, My Queen, anything to do with your name, usually he’ll put “My” before the nickname because he enjoys reminding himself that he somehow managed to bag such a lovely person. It’s the only thing he questions about how he got so lucky.

He loves you beyond everything. It’s really gonna sting when he dies… Hope you’re ready for that.

===================================

[floydsglasses]

𝙳𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚆𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎𝚜

{All Daggers included} Side note I've been watching too much Red Dead Redemption on YouTube so that's why I'm gifting you all this, ENJOY!

𝔹𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕖𝕪 "ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣" 𝔹𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕨 - 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕦𝕟𝕤𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣 A gunslinger is a hero-of sorts. He can come in many package's but one thing that each character has in common is their quick draw of their gun. He is someone you would want on your side in a fight wither its a battle of word's or bullets

𝕁𝕒𝕜𝕖 "ℍ𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕞𝕒𝕟" 𝕊𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕚𝕟 - 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℝ𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣 A rancher is the owner of a ranch, a spread of land where animals are raised, usually the Rancher is more wealthier then common town folk usually shown dressed more proper, but dont let that keep you away. They can be seen often working their own ranch and as well as employing those in desperate need of a job.

ℕ𝕒𝕥𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕒 "ℙ𝕙𝕠𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕩" 𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖= 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕪 ℍ𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣 A bounty hunter is a freelancer who assists law enforcement by pursuing wanted criminals for the price on their heads. Because of their line of work usually they are someone you dont want going after you. Know one thing, if the word's Wanted Dead or Alive are on parchment know you should be afraid.

ℝ𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕥 "𝔹𝕠𝕓" 𝔽𝕝𝕠𝕪𝕕 - 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣  The Professional Gambler is someone who emphasizes the "skill" part of the equation. They often are scanning everything and everyone, able to read people better then most. Usually they make their living through betting their money, and often come out on top.

𝕄𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕪 "𝔽𝕒𝕟𝕓𝕠𝕪" 𝔾𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕚𝕒 - 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕠 In simple term's its the Hispanic version of an outlaw. Often a bad guy, but recently they can be seen as a robin hood of sorts for the people, going against the corrupts government. He is quick with both a knife and gun, and certainly someone who can be your friend or foe

ℝ𝕦𝕖𝕓𝕖𝕟 "ℙ𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜" 𝔽𝕚𝕥𝕔𝕙- 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕞𝕚𝕥𝕙 Someone who shapes tools, weapons and other items out of iron and steel, so called because iron is a "black" metal. Specializing in creating weapon's, bullets, and horseshoes. They are a very neutral person and always willing to show off their craftsmen's ship

𝕁𝕒𝕧𝕪 "ℂ𝕠𝕪𝕠𝕥𝕖" 𝕄𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠- 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕌𝕊 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝 Often someone who will uphold the law and will not be easily persuaded by the local politics like the sheriff would be, they have usually a good moral compass and will make sure he get's his man. They have the power to deputize people, and form posses

So how do we feel about this return to mood boards, I am happy with it, we need more western au's of these dork's, I would die if I ever saw any of them like this

TAGGED: @fairyheart @sebsxphia @vivwritesfics @sugarcoated-lame @sailor-aviator

[trofysisters]

Алешка

От скандалов и интриг, творившихся в общежитии, Алешка спасался в компании друзей на общественных участках. (Alyoshka escaped from the scandals and intrigues going on in the hostel in the company of friends in public areas)

Тем более, что в старом баре сделали ремонт, и желающие могли послушать выступления во время ужина либо в тишине насладиться бильярдом. (Moreover, the old bar was renovated, and those who wished could listen to performances during dinner or enjoy billiards in silence)

Но Алешка предпочитал играть в карты. И пусть ему не везло, зато он отлично проводил время. (But Alyoshka preferred to play cards. And even if he was unlucky, he had a great time)

Удручало его только существование в маленькой комнатке общежития и отсутствие денег, чтобы съехать. Поэтому у него родился план. (The only thing that depressed him was the existence in a small dorm room and the lack of money to move out. So he came up with a plan)

Красавица уже давно готова выйти за него замуж и отдать ему всё, что у нее есть. А есть у нее немалое приданное: 10 140 симолеонов и 3 дорогущие электросферы, которые можно продать. Алешка предложил красавице жить вместе, а она с радостью согласилась. (The beauty has long been ready to marry him and give him everything she has. And she has a considerable dowry: 10,140 Simoleons and 3 expensive electrospheres that can be sold. Alyoshka invited the beauty to live together, and she happily agreed)

После продажи части приданного, на счету появилось 24 000 симолеона, и Алешка с красавицей немедленно съехали, пока Надя и Ксан Ксаныч не потратили все их деньги. (After selling part of the dowry, 24,000 Simoleons appeared in the account, and Alyoshka and the beauty immediately moved out before Nadya and Ksan Ksanych spent all their money)

Едва пара купила квартиру, красавица ослабила корсет, и у нее обнаружились пышные формы. (As soon as the couple bought an apartment, the beauty loosened her corset, and she revealed her curvy figure)

Также выяснилось, что все эти годы она продвигалась по карьерной лестнице и теперь была акулой бизнеса. Повезло же Алешке с возлюбленной! (It also turned out that all these years she had been moving up the career ladder and was now a Business Tycoon. Alyosha is lucky to have his beloved!)

Сам же Алешка развлекался бы целыми днями, но сегодня его тоже ждала работа. (Alyoshka himself would have had fun all day long, but today he also had work to do)

Вернувшись домой, красавица захотела побаловать любимого гамбургерами собственного приготовления, вот только она не справилась с новой плитой, и случился пожар. Соседки вместо помощи сбежались просто посмотреть, как горит кухня. (Returning home, the beauty wanted to pamper her beloved with home-made hamburgers, but she couldn’t cope with the new stove, and a fire broke out. Instead of helping, neighbors came running just to watch the kitchen burn)

Хорошо, что возлюбленная Петра вызвала пожарного и руководила его действиями. (It’s good that Peter’s beloved called the fireman and supervised his actions)

С возлюбленной-карьеристкой Алешка и сам начал хорошо работать, за что получил повышение до внештатного веб-дизайнера. (Alyoshka himself began to work well with his careerist lover, for which he received a promotion to freelance web designer)

Глядя на красавицу, Алешка захотел ей соответствовать и достичь вершины карьеры в тусовке. (Looking at the beauty, Alyoshka wanted to match her and reach the top of his career in the party)

А их ночи, полные страсти, похоже, принесли свои плоды. (And their nights full of passion seem to have paid off)

Теперь у Алешки будет еще больше мотивации, чтобы развивать навыки для достижения цели. (Now Alyoshka will have even more motivation to develop skills to achieve his goal)

[ravingsockmonkey]

Evergreen Harbor - Port Promise - The Shipping Views

So, how do I get started?

Gosh I'm nervous...

I'm Giovanna Goth!

I know what you're thinking, "Why is a member of the Goth Vatore family applying for a bachelorette challenge? Aren't people lining up at your door for the opportunity to join the family?

Well, no. I'm not a blood member of the family, technically. (Sorry Dad.)

See that red arrow? That's me. This isn't even the whole family - I don't know a lot of them either. I don't know Grandpa Mortimer nearly as well as I do Bella and Caleb. Despite the three of them being an item, Mortimer is fairly reclusive.

The line I'm connected to? That's my Dad, Marco Goth. He married my big brother. They were bromantically involved since high school, and since we were orphans, Dad adopted me whenever they got married.

He's the best.

I know I've talked a lot more about my family than myself, but I'm used to having to explain the whole situation.

So... I should talk about myself. Right. Not hard at all.

C'mon Giovanna, this is why you were and still are hopelessly single.

I currently live in Evergreen Harbor. Ever seen those shipping containers plopped on top of each other? Yup, that's home. I prefer being outdoors, so I figured it made more sense to live somewhere that I could fix up.

When I'm not at work (I'm a botanist!), I've been working on building and fabricating my own furniture as well as upgrading the various things around the house.

While I don't like my home to be messy, I'm not afraid to get dirty. Port Promise isn't going to clean itself up, so I'm doing my part. Plus, sometimes there's cool plants that people throw away!

I'm a vegetarian, but I love fishing. It may be weird to some people, but I never really enjoyed the taste of meat. It's less of a moral thing, and more of "my stomach isn't a fan" thing.

There's only one other thing that I genuinely don't like...

Roaches.

Roaches can plumb off.

I'm looking forward to the homestead and meeting everyone!

Caleb and Bella will be taking care of my place while I'm gone (though neither will touch the dumpster... thank you Knox for volunteering for that duty).

Giovanna Goth

Main Traits:

Loves Outdoors

Vegetarian

Ambitious

Neat

Romantic Attraction: Women

WooHoo: Women

Her likes, dislikes, romantic boundaries, turn ons, and turn offs are all set. She's on the gallery under PossumBoyDanny!

Thank you @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants for allowing me to reserve a spot!

Editing to add the form below the cut1

Contestant

Name: Giovanna Goth Age Group: Young Adult Pronouns: She/Her Orientation: Women only Hometown: Willow Creek originally, Evergreen Harbor now Occupation: Botanist (Leaf-Cutter) Skills: [oopsies, I messaged you about this one] Traits: Loves Outdoors, Vegetarian, Ambitious, Neat Bonus Traits: Good Manners, Gym Rat, Super Green Thumb, Highflier, Waterproof Sim, Storm Chaser Sim, Responsible, High Self-Esteem, Collector Aspiration: Freelance Botanist Life State: Still human - though Grandpa Caleb has offered to turn her Likes: Dancing, Gardening, Handiness, Cross-stitch, Cooking, Fitness (there's more but I figured the activities would be most important to note) Dislikes: No disliked activities, but she does dislike Arguments and Malicious Interactions Gifts: A soccer ball, cross-stitching box, possibly a knitting bag Misc:

In Depth: See above!

Watcher

Are you comfortable with your pixel person:

Flirting with other contestants? (The bachelorette will have the ‘player’ trait cheated and her boundaries set to no jealousy, so it will not impact your sim’s relationship with her.) [Yes]

WooHooing other contestants? [Yes]

Flirting with/and or woohooing NPCs?  [Y]

Flirting with the host?  [Y]

Changes to traits via gameplay prompts? (ie. Evil to Good, depending on what your Sim does, or adding traits)  [Yes - but maybe not Evil or Mean]

(Humans Only) Becoming an occult?  [Yes - she's got occult family]

(Werewolves Only) The Fated Mate mechanic? (If a werewolf ends up winning the challenge, I will cheat out that sentiment)  [N/A]

[harvardfineartslib]

"I went back to my favorite shape of thread structure radiating from the middle. The energy, or emotion gets concentrated into the middle forming a stream of red thread. To me, it is a shape of maternal love, or representation of life in nature. If you see a tree from top, this is how the branches look like. If we could see a tree root from the very bottom, it is the same. So as a structure of a female organs such as breasts and placenta." -- Rima Day on Scriptum XXII

Rima Day uses thread, fabric, and paper to create artwork that is inspired by nature and the human body. Day studied fashion design both in her native city of Tokyo, Japan and later in New York City and worked as a freelance custom ballet costumer in New York City and Connecticut. Her skills as a fashion designer are evident in her beautifully hand-stitched artist’s book. This is our third post in honor of National Embroidery Month!

Scriptum XXII Day, Rima [book artist] Scriptum 22 [Thompson's Station, TN ] : [Rima Day], August 2021. HOLLIS number: 99156839180203941

[wenclairfamily]

The History of the Wenclair Family

Wednesday Addams and Enid Sinclair. They were a duo that shouldn't have worked… but they did… and somehow their relationship resulted in marriage and children. This is the story of how their romance happened, and their family came to be...

Originally upon first meeting Enid Sinclair, Wednesday Addams found herself barely able to stand her room mate. However over time, the two developed an unprecedented bond. Enid found herself highly respecting Wednesday, while Wednesday found her soul slowly becoming soft only for Enid. A short time before turning 18, Wednesday allowed herself to begin experimenting in intimacy with Enid, and an unbroken bond between the two girls' souls was born.

As Wednesday began to discretely experiment in intimacy with Enid far longer than she had first anticipated, Wednesday eventually had to come to grips with her long term plans for where her and Enid's relationship would go. But upon wondering who she wished to be buried alongside one day, Wednesday realized there was only one person she wanted for that to be. So one night while surrounded by stuffed animals with heads cut off that were soaking in fake blood, Wednesday asked Enid to marry her... and Enid immediately accepted.

Around the time of their wedding, Wednesday used a rare plant extract from her mothers' garden that could allow a woman to become pregnant with the DNA of another woman (but very intimate intercourse still had to occur to enable the process). Despite Enid being shocked at first that she unintentionally knocked up Wednesday, the two women agreed to improve their communication going forward; and in early December, on Friday the 13th - the two welcomed their twin children into the world: Harmony Addams, and Ana "Anarchy" Addams.

Once their two children were born, Wednesday and Enid found work in the fashion industry; with Wednesday creating dark gothic creepy creations for one demographic of customers, and Enid making all the lighter stuff for the rest. Together the two raised their children in a gothic mansion (with Wednesday allowing Enid to plant bright plants in the backyard). Every day after school, and on the weekends: Wednesday would train Harmony and Ana in combat survival exercises, while Enid would teach her girls all the latest dance moves.

Upon reaching their teenage years, Harmony and Ana became strong young women. Harmony wound up learning she had gained both Enid's werewolf genes, and Wednesday's psychic abilities. Ana, while gaining no special abilities of her own, had still inherited all of Wednesday's intelligence and combat skills (while still having Enid's pleasant personality). Unfortunately, after the two girls accidentally caused a zombie frog outbreak at their school: Harmony and Ana were kicked out... only for their mothers to enroll them at Nevermore Academy.

During her first semester at Nevermore, Harmony found herself growing closer (in a romantic sense) to her childhood best friend: Megan, one of the first normies to attend Nevermore. Despite the two always being very close, Harmony had doubts if the two should take their relationship to the next level; due to them being so young, and due to conflicting visions of the future she was having when it came to her life with Megan. However, the two eventually consummated their relationship on one very romantic evening, and eventually the two agreed to get married once they both turned 18.

Ana meanwhile eventually found her own special individual to love... a kitten. After rescuing it from the woods where it was all alone, Ana named the stray cat: Stormageddon the Conqueror, and together the two started a freelance bounty hunting service together. On top of that, Ana and her cat have achieved a seat on the city council, beaten up vampires, defeated mutant clones, stopped an army of rogue sirens, and fixed the space/time continuum. Almost nobody understands how, but Ana and her cat have become an incredibly formidable duo.

Upon two Nevermore teachers attempting to kill Harmony and Ana (after the attackers revealed themselves to be the children of Laurel Gates), two staff positions at the school opened up. Wanting to be close to their daughters (and wanting to return to the place they met): Wednesday and Enid became teachers at Nevermore Academy, and even moved into the school (making their old dorm room their new home). Enid took over the art department, while Wednesday took over the school's self-defense courses, and school security. And now the story of Wednesday and Enid's family continues at the same place it began...

Check out my HUGE Wenclair Series to Read the FULL STORY

https://www.wattpad.com/user/WenclairFamily (T-rated version of my stories)

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14168842/1/The-Passion-of-a-Moment-Enid-and-Wednesday-s-Family-and-Legacy (M-rated version of my stories)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43420609 (alternate link for M-rated version of my stories)

*First Picture in Post by: @emeriart, Harmony/Megan Picture by: "AnnieK", Steampunk Kitten Picture From Google Image Search, All Other Images (except screen captures of the Wednesday TV Series) created by: Me (with assistance from multiple AI programs)

[pathologising]

marketing yourself Is sooo embarassing like ooooh look at me I have skillls!!!!!! Look at my skills!!!! Lookie at how I provide value!!!!! Please !!!! .....top 10 most embarassing things you have to do as a freelancer

[agentbuckshot]

I think a lot about the fact that all of the female freelancers, not just Tex were designed to fail in one way or another. For Connie, she was told she would never meet the skills of her colleagues, which put her in such a position where she was doomed to snap, and a position she was doomed to be hunted down loosing it. Carolina was taunted with the brink of failure, her whole life she believed what was perfect was being at the top of it, this was only really fueled by the Director. While not directly ever said we can assume this was the only way Carolina could see herself close to her father. Then it was just taken away from her where failures piled up on her and up on her causing her to become obsessed with someone she can literally never beat. South was the control variant of an experiment, South was forced to snap constantly and was punished for doing so. She was constantly taunted like a dog. Even Ohio, all she’s ever known was failure, she and the triplets tried and tried to make themselves known for being more then bottom of the barrel freelancers, but never succeeded until they were just left for dead

Project freelancer egged all of them on so much to the point where they can only be known as their worst qualities and the writers did an excellent job at this because most of the fandom thinks of them similarly. All of their worst qualities were just fueled and fueled to the point where during the freelancer arc, you can forget their good qualities. I think South’s the best example, because so many people can’t see her as more then a backstabbing short tempered bitch, rather than a highly skilled, well organized, timed and motivated killer, who can fucking hide amongst pipes and wipe out guards without a sound, while sometimes over her head can and will defend herself. Or Carolina, became selfish with obsession, to the point where she’d betray her partner and friends, in favor of pursuing her idea of success, because in the program, there wasn’t another way

I’m in no way a South apologist, but honestly, I feel like all the female freelancers, all had such strong themes of failure in their lives, some were able to overcome it and become so great and badass, some accepted it and became happy, and some were killed for it

[lifewithchronicpain]

Gotta love the title of this paper: “A critical hit: Dungeons and Dragons as a buff for autistic people“. Dungeons & Dragons (D&D) is a tabletop roleplaying game where a small group of people each play characters adventuring in an imaginary world run by the dungeon master (DM). (That explanation was probably not necessary for the majority of readers here, but just to be thorough.) The game has just celebrated its 50th anniversary, which was even commemorated by official US stamps.

The game certainly has a very different reputation today than it did in the 70s and 80s. Back then it was seen as the exclusive domain of extreme geeks and nerds, mostly males who needed a distraction from the fact that they had no chance of finding a girlfriend. This was never true, but that was the reputation. In the 80s things got even worse, with D&D being tied to the “satanic panic” of that decade. The game was blamed, mostly by fundamentalist religious groups, for demon worship, witchcraft, and resulting in suicides and murder. I still remember when the school board in our town had a debate about whether or not the game should be banned from school grounds. The adults having the conversation had literally no idea what they were talking about, and filled the gaps in their knowledge with their own vivid imaginations.

In reality D&D and similar roleplaying games are perfectly wholesome and have a lot of positive attributes. First, they are extremely social. They are especially good for people who may find social interactions challenging or at least very demanding. While roleplaying you are in a social safe-space, where you can let aspects of your personality out to play. The game is also mostly pure imagination. Other than a few aids, like dice for random outcome generation, maps and figures, the adventure takes place in the minds of the players, helped along by the GM. The game can therefore help people develop social connections and social skills, and to learn more about themselves and close friends. (Read more at link)

When I was a teen I didn’t have enough local friends to play D&D but it was the internet of the early aughts and so I joined a chat RP based on the Dragonlance world and learned to freelance RP. I did eventually do an actual proper campaign with a DM once but it was also a chat room so I’ve never had the table top experience. Anyone I met who played it IRL had a set group or lived too far away. :/ Eventually I left RPing behind for cosplay and conventions. Both groups teaming with my fellow autistics.