#and how there's and obsession with posting your experiences online | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

birdantlers · 9 months

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A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.

(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)

it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it

...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..

Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.

I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.

(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")

“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.

“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”

The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.

I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?

I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.

Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.

Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.

So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.

Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!

Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol

What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.

I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.

Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.

Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.

How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’

i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.

I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.

I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”

….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.

No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.

If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.

His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.

We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.

Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.

You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.

The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.

And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.

You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.

Give a heads up.

Something.

But don’t. kill. the media.

The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.

Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.

I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.

It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.

Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.

If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.

And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.

Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.

the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.

The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.

Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.

Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.

If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.

•

Muting notifs

#artists on tumblr #Artistic #digital art #art history #anthropology #humanity #art discussion #art theory #skit yells

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art · 2 months

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Creator Spotlight: @chaaistheanswer

Hi everyone! I am Clara, but you can also call me chaa! I am a digital artist based in Auckland, New Zealand, with a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production. After graduating from uni, I moved out to pursue my art career and I’ve been a freelance digital artist ever since. I love concept art, especially character design! Creating characters influenced by my love for fantasy is what I live for. Thank you for stopping by, and I hope you enjoyed my art! And thank you, Tumblr, for this opportunity!

Check out our interview with Clara below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I specialized in art in high school and have a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production from Massey University with an animation pathway. For our thesis film, which I worked on with several of my classmates, I took on the role of producer, art director, and concept artist. Our short film was featured in the Wellington Film Festival Terror-Fi in 2020. After graduating, I went on to become a freelance artist, but my goal is to work for the gaming industry as a character concept artist. Ever since I first picked up a pencil, I knew I wanted to become an artist!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Art block is quite common among artists, and unfortunately, I too have fallen prey to the affliction. I have several ways of overcoming art block: watching movies, playing games, reading, or going out for a drive with my sister. These are just a few things I love to do to help keep my creative juices flowing!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

I tend to obsessively research about completely unrelated topics while I draw. I find learning new things helps improve my concept designs, especially in creating backgrounds for my characters.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Video games and anime were my biggest inspirations! Anything with a captivating story that’ll send me to the edge of my seat, and loveable characters. I’m particularly drawn to high and dark fantasy.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

Technology has made a huge impact on us artists over the last few years. I used to draw a lot on paper, but since getting a tablet, I find myself searching for the undo and redo buttons and even trying to zoom constantly while I draw on paper. I used to only draw for myself as well, but after posting my art online, I now have an audience to whom I can share my art. Because of this, I am able to earn a living doing what I love by creating illustrations for clients.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I am very proud of this recent commission I’ve done for a client! Fortunately, the piece turned out exactly how I wanted it to look, and my client was very happy with the result. I am also in the process of working on a Webtoon, which is going as smoothly as I hoped it would be before its re-release!

What advice would you give to younger you about making art that's personal or truthful to your own experiences?

The best advice I would give my younger self is to never hold back! Try not to think about the negatives of creating and sharing art that you believe in. Embrace vulnerability, and don’t be afraid to dig deep into your own emotions and experiences. Always explore, and don’t limit yourself to your own bubble. And most important of all, stay true to yourself! Stay true to your values and beliefs, and never compromise your own authenticity for the sake of pleasing others. Your art is a reflection of you as a person.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@yuumei-art has been an inspiration to me since my early Deviantart days. I admire how she uses her skills to focus on environmentalism and cyber activism. @nipuni is another inspiration of mine. I found her when I was in the process of recovering from Dragon Age Solavellan hell. I admire how she manages to capture faces well while also sticking to her style. Her paintings are so beautiful and very pleasing to my eyes!

Thanks for stopping by, Clara! If you haven't seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. For more of Clara's work, follow her Tumblr, @chaaistheanswer!

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #chaaistheanswer

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thesecretsofthedivine · 5 months

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Pick a Pile Reading | Messages From Your Future Spouse 💍🪐

Business Carrd 🍶🧺

Paid Services 🍇⭐

Tip Jar 🍾🎱

*Disclaimer: This is a collective reading - take what resonates and leave the rest. If this resonates with you, please show support by reposting (with credit), tipping, or booking with me! :)

*Exchanges with other intuitives/readers are available via dm's

──────

PILE 1 COLLECTIVE

• I love the sound of your laughter.

• You’ve turned me into a more carefree person.

• Let’s spend the day baking/cooking then heading right back to bed to cuddle!

• I feel like we could never have enough quality time together.

• You’re my favorite person in the world.

• I’m addicted to your scent.

• We should start a family (🐾/👶).

• You’re my lock screen.

• I tell all my friends about you. If you checked my notifications, all you’d see is a group chat roasting me for how obsessed I am with you.

• There is no place I’d rather be than here with you in my arms.

• I like to watch you sleep. You just seem so peaceful and still that it’s intensely captivating. I hope you don’t mind 😵‍💫.

~ miscellaneous: earth sign placements. homebodies. 2 introverts or an introvert & an extrovert. hard-working, masculine qualities in your spouse. wholesome domestic moments.

PILE 2 COLLECTIVE

• I want to drown in the sea of your existence.

• Dedicating poetry and art to you — my favorite muse.

• There is nothing in the world that I wouldn’t give to have more time with you.

• I’m afraid of loss/dying, but entering old age with you would make my existence complete.

• Please don’t leave me.

• Can I wake you up early if I’m craving your attention? It’s hard for me to contain my excitement when you look this beautiful/attractive.

• Let’s watch the sunset together and stay up late talking for hours.

• Every detail of your existence does not go unnoticed by me.

• We were meant to love each other in this life/I know that we are past life lovers who have found one another again.

• Come on, baby. Don’t be shy with me.

~ miscellaneous: water sign placements (especially scorpio or for their moon sign). 2 night owls or a night owl & a morning person. hozier songs. romantic moments caught on camera/posted online. artist x muse trope.

PILE 3 COLLECTIVE

• You light me on fire with desire.

• I love teasing you more than anything else in the world.

• You’re my best friend and lover, all wrapped into one.

• My heart feels warm and glows from the inside whenever you’re around.

• I can’t lose you. If I do, I’ll go crazy.

• Let’s go for a drive, listen to music, eat food, and forget about our worries.

• I want to be the first person you call when you’re in trouble.

• I will never judge you.

• We will travel everywhere and make the world our own.

• I want to surprise you with grand gestures (especially via gifts or shared experiences).

~ miscellaneous: fire sign placements. ready or not — bridgit mendler. sneaky smirks that make you smile uncontrollably. spontaneous memories or communication. fluffy hair & tan skin features for some.

PILE 4 COLLECTIVE

• Pulling out all my best jokes just for you.

• Give me a nickname and I’ll give you one back.

• How can I possibly deny your charm?!

• Your style is impeccable. Every time we’re in a shop together, I just want to watch you pose in front of the mirror.

• I’ll make you homemade snacks and share my family’s recipes with you!

• Spoiling you with acts of service.

• We don’t even have to speak to understand one another. Mere eye contact is enough.

• You bring out my (good) crazy side 🤪.

• I love how we can always bounce off each other’s energies so well.

• I wanna give you expensive jewelry or items with my initials on it.

~ miscellaneous: air sign placements. a quirky sense of humor. distinct eyebrows. friends to lovers trope (Monica & Chandler came to mind). latin/hispanic backgrounds for some.

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olsenmyolsen · 6 months

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Ever Since Natasha Saw You (18+)

master list

dark master list

Post Black Widow Dark!Natasha Romanoff (Female Reader X Natasha Romanoff)

Summary: She was a hero. But to her, YOU were so much more.

Word Count: 6.1K

Content: Dub-Con, Obsession, Kidnapping, Stalking, Blood, Knife, Knifeplay, Mommy Kink, Feelings, Trauma, Death,

The Black Widow hid a secret.

She was in love with you. Sounds pretty innocent... right?

"Night Y/N!" Your coworker Daisy called out as you were still typing at your computer. It was Friday night, and everyone but you was already leaving. Leaving to be free of the thoughts of work for at least the weekend.

You had a marketing job in downtown Manhattan. Skyscraper. Cubicle. Long nights. That kind of job.

You liked it, honestly.

Sure, New York and the surrounding areas were dangerous. Hell, at times. But you had heroes and vigilantes to save you. You had first-hand experience in 2012 when you and your Dad were saved while out at your "I made it through University without killing myself" lunch.

Now, here you were 4 years later. Still in the city while your Dad left. But that was fine. Being on your own has been exemplary. Sure, you have some friends... coworkers, really. You went on dates! I mean, they didn't lead to much more. But you were going through life.

A cat! You have a cat. An orange tabby who only loves you for food...

Anyways! You were fine and finishing up work on your computer when a pop-up of World News showed up in the top right-hand corner of your screen.

What's New 3 Weeks After The Fall Of A Secret Organization Hiding In The Sky? Russia and the U.S. Remain Quiet.

You heard about the debris and strange things found over on that side of the world earlier this month. With that came the theories.

You rolled your eyes at most. But some were fun. Like aliens was a popular one. People online said it was a crashed group of green-shape-shifting aliens. Your coworker Lindsey swore by another that claimed it was a giant purple guy who crashed on Earth.

Yeah, that'll be the day.

You even had a friend of a friend named Darcy who said an Avenger was present to what happened, leaving you curious.

The Avengers, as far as you were concerned, were in trouble. Rumblings, sightings, and videos of two sides of the superhero group fighting at a German airport left many to speculate that this was the end. Plus, this coming weeks after what happened in Lagos and the murder of King T'Chaka made it all the more plausible.

So, if the rumor was confirmed that an Avenger was at the collapse of what many were confused about, it was... interesting.

But you couldn't dwell on that. You shook your head and closed out of the news to finish up your projected cost for the next wave of Roxxon Marketing.

As you walked out of your office building, you were unaware you were being followed.

It wasn't the first time you had been followed. Fuck it wasn't even the fiftieth time it had happened, but still you remained clueless. She thought it was cute at first how unaware of your surroundings you were. It always made her smile.

Because in one second, an innocent and pretty thing like you could be gone.

But she wouldn't let that happen.

Not by anyone else, at least.

You have to understand. She was your protector. Yeah.. Yeah, that's right! The one to make sure you got home safe. The one to take care of threats no matter how minuscule they might be. She also made sure no one got too close or even dared to ask you out.

You couldn't date. That would be unfair and very hurtful to the one who... watched over you...

I mean, you never wondered why suddenly Dennis never showed back up to work after asking you out to lunch, now did you?

Rumor was his family got sick, and he had to skip town. But we know about rumors now, don't we? I.E., purple aliens. Green shapeshifting ones. You get it.

Oh. Also. What happened to Dennis, you may ask?

I'll let you know when his body turns up.

However, all of this is to say that you were lucky Natasha Romanoff picked you.

She was back after being gone, having to deal with some family business. But she was back! For you! Natasha thought you should be grateful. She could be- SHOULD BE on the run right now, but here she was twenty feet behind you.

After tonight, you were going to know precisely who she was.

Natasha smiled as she followed you. She laughed as she saw how cautious you were of people even when you're on your phone like you are right now.

However, as cautious as you may be, it leaves you vulnerable. Sweet. Easy.

Natasha thinks you're too nice for your own good sometimes. Like you always see the best in people. It drives Natasha crazy the amount times she has had to stop because you stopped to help someone. A drunk. A homeless man. A- you get it.

As you and Natasha head down into the subway, she appreciates how your route hasn't changed at all since your first day of work many years ago. Yet she can't help but snicker at how you've never noticed her taking that walk with you. But then again, even with how cautious you are, you don't notice things.

You still haven't noticed the tiny cameras Natasha installed in your place. Or the amount of panties she's stolen. Or even the amount of times you've slept with her arms around your body. In addition to the hushed whispers and stolen kisses, she's left on your lips.

On top of that, you haven't noticed her feelings for you.

Natasha moves closer to you as you both are nearing your stop. With a plan in motion, The Black Widow can't help but smile.

Natasha takes another step forward and grabs onto the metal pole in front of herself to stop her movement when you look up and around the car. You stop when your eyes reach Natasha's green ones in a hoodie and jeans. You smile quickly before putting your head down, focusing back on your phone.

What you did just now was polite. You looked from your phone to stretch your neck and smiled at a cute blonde who just so happened to be looking your way.

That's what you thought.

To Natasha, you signaled her out.

With your eyes, you noticed her. After all this time, you did it! On tonight of all nights. It was a sign. It was meant to be!

Natasha smiled and stared at you, unaware.

When you finally got up to get off at your stop, you felt your arm being yanked back. When you stumbled back and turned your head to find a bald man older than your father looking at you like he won a prize, you pulled as hard as possible. But his grip was tight. "Where are you going, sweetheart?" He looked over your body, making you pull again.

How was no one stopping this man? Was no one seeing it? Did no one care?

The train car beeped, signaling the doors were going to be closing, and the man had yet to remove you from his grip. You were about to scream when the blonde woman from before grabbed your other arm, making you shriek in surprise. The woman acted fast and kicked the man in the knee hard enough to break it before rushing the two of you out of the train car just as the doors closed on three other men hitting their first against the door.

You wanted to wave them bye and flick them off, but your arm hurt. Not the one the man held.. But... but your other one. The one the woman held as she saved you.

"You, alright?" The blonde had a raspy voice as she spoke. It sounded familiar, but as you quickly scanned her face, you declared she must have that kind of face. (as if) But her eyes. Her eyes were one of a kind. Beautiful and a shimmering green you wanted to get lost in.

So lost that you almost forgot about the arm pain and the dizziness you were starting to feel...

"Yeah." You nodded to the blonde who had yet to release your arm. "I'm fine."

This was a lie, and Natasha, of course, knew that. I mean, she was the one wearing the ring that, with one turn of the gemstone, revealed a tiny needle. One that the blonde used to inject your arm with a sleeping agent.

"Are you sure?" The woman smiled as she asked you. Why was she smiling? You went to nod that you were indeed fine but found yourself more tired. Weaker even. "Oh, honey, you don't look so good."

Natasha smiled as she felt your body losing the fight. Natasha quickly looked around before wrapping your arm around her shoulder to make it appear as if you were a drunk friend who needed help getting home.

"Oh, Y/N, it looks like that guy must have really done something, huh?"

The guy in the group of men that she paid off.

Your mind was becoming black as your body went limp, and before you could ask her how she knew your name or who the hell she was, you took one last look at the blonde.

This time, you recognized who she was.

You went to speak but slurred your words as you closed your eyes, passing out in Natasha Romanoff's arms.

Getting you home was easy.

As Natasha unlocked your front door, she smiled, pulling you closer as you entered through the threshold between the hallway and your apartment. Natasha smiled wider as she looked around at what would become her place with you before looking at your limp, unconscious body. "We're home!"

Home was with you.

With a kick to the door, it closed behind you two as she hurried you to your room.

Once inside, Natasha was happy to find that not much, if anything, had changed since she last visited. She said hi to your cat, who purred at the sight of the blonde.

Natasha loved your cat and couldn't wait to be a good cat mom.

Natasha took you and gently placed you on the bed before looking around the room. She was looking for something. Natasha closed the bedroom door and went back, kicking the floorboard to the right of your end table, and up it flipped. She bent down and pulled out a small black backpack she stored two years ago.

Opening it up to make sure everything was still there. She knew you probably didn't even know that it existed. (You hadn't.) But Natasha had to be sure.

Dumping out the bag's contents, she was happy to see that nothing was missing. But she still took inventory. 5 Widow Bites. 1 Pistol. 12 Bullets. 1 Set of Handcuffs. 1 Knife. 3 Needles of the Sleeping Agent. 1 Burner Phone.

Finally, 2 very dry Nutri-Grain Bar.

Natasha kept the loaded gun, knife, and handcuffs out of the bag and placed it on the desk in the corner of your room. The bag moved to the edge of the bed—no point in hiding it now.

"Oh, Y/N!" Natasha sat next to your upper body, passed out on the bed. She spoke as her soft hand ran through your hair. It calmed Natasha. "You're so pretty, Y/N."

Natasha looked over your still-covered body before moving her hand down your back. "Here. Come on." She flipped you over onto your back and pulled you more onto the bed.

Natasha's eyes found your face. "Baby, I can't wait for the rest of our lives." Natasha bit her lip as she spoke to you. Hopefully, and giddy for the future. "We're going to be so happy." Natasha leaned down and planted a kiss at the top of your head. "You still smell like coconut. I still don't really like that shampoo, but I know how much you do." Natasha smiled as if this was a normal conversation before giving you another kiss. Just as one of her hands began to snake its way across your stomach before landing at your hip.

"I love you."

Natasha couldn't help herself. She smiled brightly as she said those words out loud to you for the first time.

Natasha's lips found the side of your face again and again. She always loved how soft you felt against her. Delicate. Like something Natasha wanted to cherish. Keep perfect. Forever.

But there was also that part inside of her. The side of Natasha that wanted to own you. Take that softness and fuck it out of you. Damage you. Hurt you.

Both were fighting for control.

Regardless, Natasha slid down the zipper of your unbuttoned jeans and slipped her hand over your black cotton panties. Moaning as her stomach flipped in the joys of touching you, feeling your heat on her fingers. Letting excitement wave over her, she cupped your pussy before dragging her index finger up over your growing wet-covered folds. "Oh fuck, baby!" Natasha moaned before looking at the side of your face.

Natasha smiles to herself. She leans over and kisses your cheek, and quickly removes her hand from your recently shaved pussy.

Natasha licks the little slick on her fingers off.

Natasha savored the taste before she laid flat on her back. Lifting her ass as she tore off the black jeans she was wearing along with her red panties. Choosing to keep her slightly raised pullover hoodie on, Natasha grabbed your left wrist. "I want you to feel me..." Natasha looked over and spoke to you. "I want you to feel how wet you make me, Y/N! How tight I am for you. I've been waiting."

With that, Natasha kept her eyes on your left hand as she moved it down her toned stomach. The tips of your fingers brushing over her skin, making her squirm in anticipation for what's to come.

Moving them further down, Natasha gasps as your hand gets pushed down onto the top of Natasha's bare pussy. "This is for you." She moans as she pushed your hand further down. Directing your middle and ring finger to her clit. "Oh fuck!" She moans and grows wetter at your unconscious touch.

"Keep going. Keep going!" Natasha directs your fingers to move in a circular motion. Before her mouth drops as your fingers get pushed over The Black Widows dripping pussy. She moans and grips your hand. "Right there." Natasha moves your fingers around her opening for you.

"It's for you, baby. Come on. I want you to fuck me!" She gives your hand one more push and bucks when your fingers easily slide into her. Natasha loudly moans while her left hand grips the comforter of the bed.

Your fingers feel perfect inside of her.

Natasha can't get over that.

She thinks you were made for her.

Slowly, Natasha starts to move herself against your fingers. Her hips working overtime. Only using her right hand to position your hand better. "Oh my God!" Natasha smiles as a shaky breath comes out. You're doing this to her. You're making her feel this good. You're fucking her right.

Natasha is rocking her hips up and down your slick fingers. You're pushing her closer and closer. "Oh god!" She grunts as she slams the back of your hand to feel you deeper, indirectly slapping her pussy and clit that, sends a wave of pain that morphs into pleasure. "Oh yes!"

Natasha does it repeatedly while her left-hand works on her clit. Her middle fingers pushes the bud of it up as she continues her circular motion. "That's it, baby! Make me cum! Make me fucking cum!" She turns her head to you and stares at your unconscious body. "You're doing so well, baby."

If you were awake right now, you'd feel Natasha's wetness run down your fingers. Into your palms. And down your wrist. You'd hear her moans and screams of pleasure as she makes herself cum with your fingers. "Oh my God!" Natasha Romanoff jolts up. "Y/N, I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Oh fuck! Oh, fuck, baby.."

Natasha rides her orgasm out and smiles when she falls back onto the bed. She turns and looks at your body. "You made me feel so good."

You're perfect.

As she catches her breath, Natasha gently pulls your fingers out and brings them up to her mouth. She marvels at the sight of you now covered in her before she takes her tongue and runs it over your fingers. Enjoying the taste of herself. "I can't wait to taste you." Now that we're together, she forgot to add.

Natasha insets your finger back into her mouth. Loudly sucking on them and moaning before shoving your fingers to the back of her throat, making herself gag on them. She repeats the action.

"Will you let me do that to you?" Natasha says after she's pulled them out and caught her breath. "Hmm?" She licks them again. "Will you gag for me?" She kisses your ring finger and twirls it around. "I wonder..."

Natasha kisses you one more time as she gently places your hand down and moves her body to lay half of it on you. "I wonder what you won't do now that you're mine." She takes your chin in her hand and moves it in her direction. "I can't wait for you to be awake. For us." Natasha deeply kisses your lips as her hand quickly pushes your boobs up. "But first." Natasha releases you and gets up from the bed. She takes off the rest of her clothes and tosses them into your now-shared laundry basket before moving to the desk where her belongings are located.

"I need to take care of a few things."

Slowly, your body starts to stir awake.

You go to move to your side but wince when you land on your arm. You are unsure why it hurts, but you are too stiff and tired to worry about that right now. But for some reason, since you're awakening, your body isn't going back to sleep.

Silent bells are ringing in your head, but you don't know they're there.

You groan and manage to flip your body onto its stomach. This position feels terrific, especially since you feel the coolness of the bedsheet against your body. You snuggle your face into your pillow- your eyes shoot open.

You don't remember coming home...

You open your eyes wider and take a look around the room. It's your room. You're relieved to see that but grow more worried at your nonexistent memory of getting home.

Plus, it looks like things around the room are off... you turn your tired back against the mattress and find yourself surprised to have another person in the room.

A blonde-haired woman wearing one of your college sweatshirts looking through one of your old journals... Once again, the alarm in your head is not alerting you. It's distant and faded.

"That's my shirt..?" Your groggy voice makes the woman look up with a smile.

To you, the woman's smile looks like a kid on Christmas morning.

To Natasha, she's testing out how you're gonna act.

"Hi!" The woman gets up with a glass of water from the chair at your desk. The action reveals to you that it looks like she's not wearing any bottoms, but you can't tell because of the length of her- your sweatshirt. The blonde rounds the bed and carefully gets on her knees before you on the floor. She looks kindly at you as your eyes quickly scan her face and exposed legs. "Nice to see you up." She says to you. Innocently enough. "How are you feeling?" She sweetly asks as she hands you the glass of water.

"I don't- I don't remember..." You say, making the blonde smile wider. "I was walking..." You struggle to come up with anything after that. It's like your mind went blank.

Why couldn't you remember?

You shake your head and take a few sips from the glass before the blonde takes it from you to place on your bedside table—a kind gesture on the outside. But the less you know about the pheromonal powder agent you just ingested, the better.

"Oh, honey..." The blonde lifts and places her hand on yours. The soft contact makes you feel warmer. However, the feeling of this being wrong is still unreachable to you. Natasha smiles when you don't pull away. The drugs from before and now are working. "Those men really did a number on you, huh?"

Men? You think as Natasha watches your face.

"You know you're lucky I was there," Natasha says as she rises from her kneeling position to stand in front of you. Now she towers you, and you feel her legs brush past your own. You don't stop her as she moves closer to you. She raises a hand and pushes some of your hair back. "A man grabbed you and wanted to hurt you, but I was there to stop them. But honey, I think they drugged you..."

Her touch and voice were soothing. She felt and smelled wonderful. You even did your best to not react to the pet name she gave you. "Dru-drugged me?" Once again, the bells should be going off, but Natasha knows exactly what she's doing. "Yeah, I got you off the train, but as we were walking, you started to walk funny. Your face got sleepy." She says this while looking into your eyes. She has her gaze fixated on you, and it pulls you in. "But you were smart." The blonde smiles down at you. "You made sure to tell me where you lived so I could get you home safe." Her raspy voice makes you smile, but her words are making you question if that happened... but you don't remember...

"Are you okay?" She asks as you're thinking. You look back up at her concerned face. "Yeah.. I- I was just trying to remember..." Natasha nods and moves her body in between your legs. Spreading them further apart. "What did you say your name was again?" You ask, making Natasha laugh. "I didn't. Good try, though." She places her hands on your shoulders. She's bold. "What's the matter? You don't trust me?" Something about the way she says it makes you feel sick and guilty for even thinking that you didn't trust her.

Natasha, of course, knows this.

"No- no, I trust you! I'm sorry!" You reach your hands out and place them on Natasha's covered hips. Natasha smiles at your action while faking a sad sniffle. "My name is Natasha." You look over the blonde and smile.

That's when it clicks.

"Natasha Romanoff." Natasha's frown turns into a smile. "Wow, you know who I am?" She fakes surprise and turns on the innocence. You nod with your mind, unable to think about anything else but her. "Wow! I got saved by The Black Widow."

Natasha watches as you process this faux information. Gosh, you look so cute. "I guess I was lucky, huh?" You look at her, earning a chuckle. "I just didn't want anything to happen to you," Natasha says, warming your heart. "You're too perfect." She adds in a low whisper. Something you catch that makes your brain fuzzy.

However, before you can do or say anything else, Natasha pushes her body closer to you. Carefully, she watches your eyes as she lifts one leg over yours. Placing one knee on the bed next to your hips before doing the same with the other. She smiles down at you as her bare ass finds itself sitting in your lap.

You feel her wet pussy on your tight black bike shorts.

"Is this okay?" She whispers as she brings her face close enough to yours to feel her breath on your ear. You inhale her scent and feel the butterflies in your stomach.

"More than okay, Natasha..." You find yourself saying. The alarms in your head have officially been silenced. You should be asking why she's doing this, why she's still here. You shouldn't be accepting her advances. But yet you aren't questioning her. You accept her actions with a smile.

She smiles back.

"You know..." Natasha leans down and kisses your cheek. "I'll always protect you." You feel a blush on your face when her soft lips touch your skin again. "I've loved you for so long, and now I get to show you." Natasha lifts her face away from you to look at your eyes flutter.

Natasha sees how defenseless you are now.

The drugs have all worked.

"You love me?" You question as you move your hands down from Natasha's hips to her thighs. The touch of her feels cool to your warm hands. You peer into her green eyes and see them sparkle. "For years, I've loved you." She unwraps her arms from around you and places them on your hands. She moves them up from her thighs to under what used to be your shirt. You feel the bend of her hips and the softness of the sides of her body as your fingertips brush past their way to her nipples.

She pushes your hand to grope her boobs.

"For years, I've wanted you, and now I have you. Don't I?"

Natasha slowly moves her hips back and forth, sending a wave of pleasure through her body as her wet clit brushes up and down the end seam of your bike shorts. She moans and whimpers while looking at you, waiting for an answer. "Don't I, Y/N?!" You push and pull her boobs as you look at Natasha Romanoff acting like a slut for you. "Yes. Yes, Natasha! You have me!"

"I'm yours!" You wanted to scream.

"Good girl." She whispers as she leans down and kisses you again and again. Her tongue pushing its way into your mouth. The taste of her is salvia is electrifying. The pleasure you feel makes you moan into her mouth. Natasha smirks as you push yourself deeper and closer to The Black Widow.

Natasha reaches down as you two fall onto the bed to places her hand in the middle of your bike shorts. She begins rubbing your core up and down as her hand pushes your legs open. "Come on, baby. Open up for me."

You nod with your eyes closed and feel Natasha's fingers slow down in speed as she now gently brushes her fingers past your wet clit seeping through the shorts.

Each time she touches it, you jump.

And then. Natasha pulls her hands away from you: nothing but the cool air touching the wet spot on your shorts. You feel needy and frustrated. You open your eyes to see Natasha on her knees, lifting her shirt off her body. Her blonde hair falls back into place right above her shoulder.

She smiles at you and watches as you take her in.

You feel your mouth become dry as you look up at Natasha's toned stomach. A set of abs staring at you. You move from her perfect breast and hard pink nipples to her shoulders and biceps. The definition in her arms makes you close your mouth to hold in a noise that would've been embarrassing.

You look up at her neck—a smile when you see a cute mole that was previously hidden. Finally, you bring your eyes to her face and the smirk on her lips.

"Can I take these off?" Natasha points down to your bike shorts. You nod, making Natasha internally laugh. The shorts were coming off no matter what your answer was.

You pull your head from Natasaba's gaze and watch as Natasha's left hand goes to the bottom seam of your shorts and lifts them up from your body.

Once again, her touch makes your skin flush with pleasure. It's as if you're addicted to her and her touch.

Natasha pulls her right arm from behind herself, and that's when you drop your mouth. "Na-natasha, what's that?"

"Did I say you can speak?"

You sit stunned as the knife in her hand comes closer to your body. You weren't aware that you couldn't speak unless spoken to, but... di- did Natasha expect that of you? Did she tell you, and you just forgot?

"Look at me." She sternly asks of you. "Not at the knife but at me." The movement of the knife doesn't stop when you pull your eyes to Natasha and her beautiful green ones. "What did I say earlier?" She asks. "Think real hard and then answer me, okay." Her eyes leave you as she focuses on the blade, meeting the bottom seam of your shorts. You keep your eyes on Natasha's face and hear the ripping sound of your shorts as she goes further and further up.

She stops at your hip close to the top seam when you decide to speak up.

"That you'll always protect me." Natasha smiles wide. You listened and answered her perfectly. Natasha smiles and can't help herself when she leans in and kisses you. "Good job." She says with care dripping from her lips. "What else did I say?"

"That you love me."

Natasha nods. "I do love you." She leans in and, with the knife still in her left hand, drags up the rest of the way. Her lips touch yours at the same time the blade cuts through your shorts.

Immediately, Natasha tosses the knife off the bed. It clatters on the floor, making you jump into Natasha's lips again. "Sorry." You say when she backs away. "It's okay." The blonde tells you. "As long as you know that I would never hurt you, right?"

"Right." You agree easily.

Natasha smiles as she pulls at the fabric resting on your pussy. The coating sticks to you as she pulls it further away until the string of wetness breaks mid-air. Falling back onto your thigh. "Did Mommy make you feel this way?"

She knows that she did.

But she wants to hear you say it.

"Yes." Natasha brings her fingers back to where they belong. "Yes, what?" She glides her middle finger over your pink mound. You moan and shudder.

"Yes, Mommy."

Natasha should've left soon after that night. But she couldn't bring herself to do it.

She knew her friends needed her help, but she couldn't leave you. She finally had you, and you had her. Why would she want to jeopardize that?

So as, the days turned into weeks to months to years. Natasha felt the pressure to run continue to build.

In contrast, as the days turned into weeks to months to years. You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the one who saved you. The Black Widow. The cute blonde hero who made you breakfast in bed. The woman who stayed with you. The one who whispered sweet nothings into your ear every night as you drifted asleep. The woman who saved the world repeatedly could now be there for you.

Natasha even let it be known that you didn't have to work anymore. She had an array of offshore accounts and wanted to spoil you, and you, in turn, let her.

You blushed when she looked your way and never got tired of seeing her smile. A goddess herself sculpted her body, and Natasha happily made sure you came for her. Only her.

"Hey, what's going on?"

You walked out of your and Natasha's bedroom after finding the bed empty to see her in the living room going over her weaponry. Something you didn't like, but you trusted Natasha with them. Knowing she would never harm you.

It was early afternoon, and after your morning trip to the farmers market, followed by some light grocery shopping, you came home to Natasha, waiting with some brunch and a board game.

You took a nap after that, and while you slept, Natasha made her decision.

"They need me."

You knew who Natasha was talking about. It wasn't a secret that you were dating Natasha Romanoff. Well, it was a secret to everyone else. But you get my point. You were dating a fugitive labeled that by the United Nations on account of the Sokovian Accords—an ex-Avenger who still wanted to help.

"What if I don't want you to go." You asked with hurt in your voice. You finally had the love of your life. Someone you weren't even looking for, and now she wanted to go?

"Baby..." She put her gun on the coffee table and made her way to you. Wrapping her arms around you as you wrapped around her body. "I don't want to go..." A white lie, considering her little weekend-avenging trips from time to time weren't enough. "But I have to. To protect us. To protect you." The truth.

"Rogers needs me. Plus, with Vision and Wanda running around trying to be a normal couple again. He really needs the help."

You nodded into Natasha's shoulder. You hated that she was right. "How long?" Natasha sighed. She really didn't know how long it would be.

"Give me two weeks, and I'll be back."

You deflated, and your heart formed cracks. You didn't want her to leave, and you didn't want her to go for that long!

Natasha started kissing your head and rubbing your back, and you didn't understand why until you felt the tears leaving your eyes. You were crying.

Natasha hated it. She hated hearing how heartbroken you were. But at the same time, she loved it. You were hers. And she was yours.

"I love you Y/N. I'll be back before you know it."

"I love you, Natty. Please be careful."

Natasha wasn't even gone for two weeks. In fact, her time with Captain and Birdboy lasted a mere pair of days.

On day 3, Vision turned off his transponder.

Within 48 hours, half of everything was dust.

When Natasha found the others at the corpse of the synthezoid. Two people ran through Natasha's mind.

Yelena.

And you.

"Y/N!"

Natasha screamed as she busted open the door to your shared space. She threw her useless phone onto the counter as she ran through the living room, still in her uniform. Passing by the TV that sat on the emergency broadcast. "Y/N!" She called out again as she stopped at the bedroom door. "Please be here. Please be alive.."

Natasha had tears in her eyes as she slowly opened the bedroom door. Her breath left her lips in a gasp before she blinked away tears that were escaping. She carefully made her way to the bed and sat down.

You turned over as you felt the bed shift. Then you opened your eyes when you felt Natasha's presence. "Natasha? Natasha!" You sprung up from the bed and collided into her body.

You both wept as the relief flooded your combined emotions. "You're alive..." Natasha whispered into your head before inhaling.

She grew to love your shampoo.

"I miss you." You said. "Don't worry, Detka. I'm here. I'm here." Natasha kissed the side of your head before leaning back and kissing your mouth.

God, she missed your lips and the softness of your cheeks as you tried to hide your blush.

"I miss you." You repeated, confusing Natasha.

"Babe?" She pulled back and held your head in her hands. Her green eyes scanned your beautiful face and saw nothing wrong until a speck of dust flew off your nose. "No.." Natasha whispered with pain. "Y/N." She kept your face in her hands as little by little. You ceased to exist. "Y/N!" Her hands started to be covered.

"I miss you."

"Y/N, please no! No! Please!"

"I miss-" "Stop it!" "Nata-"

"No!" She screamed and screamed as you vanished until she woke up thrashing in her bed at the compound. Alone. Gun drawn and ready...

"Whatever it takes..." Whispered by you... Is this the last thing Natasha always heard when she woke up from her nightmares..

Natasha looks around the room with bags under her red, dried eyes and chapped lips. She struggles every day to live. She hates herself for leaving.

She hates that the last thing you told her was, "be careful."

She is hurt. Alone. Scared.

She misses you.

Every day, she tries and uses her resources to find a way to bring everyone back. But so far, she's always coming up empty-handed.

The worst part is, is that even after three years of you being gone. Natasha never told anyone. You were a secret to everyone else.

But to Natasha, you were everything.

dividers by @/benkeibear & @/firefly-graphics

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creedslove · 1 year

Text

BETRAYED - PART THREE

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: angst, age gap, established friendship, unrequited love/one sided feelings, Pedro being a dick but also a tiny little bit of fluff

A/N: I'm so sorry but I can't manually tag anyone on the post, the app won't just let me do it!

1.7k words

PART ONE | PART TWO

If someone had asked Pedro where he got his obsession with you from, he would be too embarrassed to tell. But first things first, he would clarify that he was not obsessed with you, he could never have such a weird, creepy feeling towards you. He loved you. He loved you like a friend, like a brother, he cared for you, he enjoyed having you in his life, you always supported him, believed in him and he was so grateful for that. He had never had enough of you in his life, except when you demanded something more than he could give you. He couldn't be your boyfriend, he just couldn't imagine mixing things up like that, of course you were pretty, he wasn't crazy to think otherwise, but how could he give you something he didn't have? You were young, he was older, you probably would want to get married and have kids, and well, he had chances of that throughout his life with a few women and he always backed down from this kind of commitment. Plus, after his much deserved breakthrough he was finally able to experience the Hollywood lifestyle for bit, women, parties, money. He would've been crazy if he'd said no to that, right?

Still, he didn't get why for the past few days he just couldn't get you out of his mind, of course, you two were friends, he worried about you, as you hadn't been talking much and though he knew damn well what he did to you in order to make you pissed off at him, he still pretended he didn't. He told himself it wasn't a big deal, he even convinced himself if you'd found a hot guy at the party, you would've the same to him. In his defense, there were probably hundreds of attractive men there, and you could have hooked up with any of them, so there was no need to throw a fit. Well, that was just what he told himself when he felt his heart clench at the sight of you online and not talking to him, or when you saw you posting stories with your friends or daily things you once shared with him, and saw he wasn't included.

Then, he began dreaming about you. And that was something he did not expect. Every night he would have the same dream over and over, he'd would see you in his home, looking comfortably and cozy on his couch, curling up in a blanket, sometimes with a book in hands or sometimes watching TV. When this little toddler would come running towards you and jumping onto your lap, giggling and calling you mommy. Even in the unconscious of sleep, his heart still clenched at the sight, especially when the kid would look towards him. Sometimes, the toddler was a little boy, and sometimes it was a little girl. When he dreamed about you and the boy, he always had the same eyes as Pedro and the messy hair. When he dreamed about the little princess and you, she looked exactly like a tiny version of you, but with the same beautiful brown eyes as well.

Pedro then, would wake up with a gasp and panting, rubbing his hands over his face and looking around. The dream always felt so real and each time he went to sleep, the desire to see you again grew stronger and stronger inside of him. So it was a fair assumption that he waited excitedly to see you at the dinner party he was throwing. There were other people attending, of course but he couldn't even hide the fact that the only one that truly mattered was you.

Pedro waited for you the whole night, he was warm and sweet to everybody, as always, greeting people, making them comfortable and being the star of the party, but he felt something was missing. You were missing. He still checked his phone anxiously every ten minutes to see if you'd texted him, maybe to let him know you'd be late or something but couldn't hide his disappointment when he got nothing. Eventually people got hungry and he had no other choice but to serve dinner. He had picked your favorite dish and couldn't wait to see your face once you realized it, but as you never showed up, he didn't get the chance to see your beautiful eyes lighting up and your sweet smile.

He sighed heavily once the last guests left his house and grabbed his phone one more time. He had texted you multiple times during the evening and it wasn't worth it, so he went to bed instead, knowing he'd see you at least in his dreams.

•••

You decided to go to the gym after days of not showing up, you would always say you were too busy with work, or your finals but the truth was you were straight up avoiding Pedro. You just didn't want to risk running into him there and have to face him, not when his gym clothes hung tight against his fit body, or when he smiled at you, his skin with the sweaty glow of someone who just finished an intense activity, one that you fantasized very often. No, you couldn't let yourself be fooled again, if he wasn't going to be a decent friend, then you weren't even sure if you still wanted to be friends. But that was not the time to depress yourself overthinking about that. You grabbed your gear and headed to the gym.

Pedro had already worked out that day, but his phone beeped when he got a new notification. He'd turned on the notifications of your profile, so he'd know whenever you made a new post. Opening your story he saw you were in your usual gym clothes

"Ay ay princesa, tienes un cuerpo maravilloso" he whispered as he watched his picture and frowned as he noticed he hadn't seen you in forever at the gym and groaned, finally realizing you were avoiding him on purpose. He felt so angry he decided he would talk to you personally, even if he had to follow you to the gym.

He didn't get much traffic on the way and grinned as he saw your car at the parking lot. Getting his sunglasses on, he walked through the sidewalk and entered the building, greeting everyone he knew and looking for you. It didn't take long for him to recognize your frame, he'd been watching your body for a couple of years and enjoying the view to the point he could recognize you in a crowd of people. He only didn't recognize the man that was next to you. You were getting ready for yoga practice and doing stretching exercises with the help of the guy Pedro had never seen. He was taller than Pedro, and more muscular as well. Judging by the way other yoga girls looked at him, he could assume your new friend could be considered handsome.

And he didn't like that.

In fact, he hated it.

If Pedro thought he was angry when he found out he was being avoided by you, he was in for a ride when he saw the moment the man placed his hands on your hips. You had to bend over and stretch and he was giving you support, but to Pedro that was a real absurd. How could that asshole touch you like that in front of everyone? How could you not say anything? For so long he was the only one who touched you like that, even if it wasn't in a erotic way, still, he was the only man who had his hands on you.

His blood boiled and he never felt that way, actually he did, several times when he was dating other women throughout his life, but he never felt that towards you. At that point he didn't even know if he should go and talk to you, he actually felt ashamed of being there, watching you from afar like a goddamn stalker. He was about to turn back and leave when he heard the yoga structure dismissing the class and your giggles as the other man got behind to talk to you alone. He could hear only your muffled voices but was able to catch some of the conversation and quickly learned the guy's name was Liev. He rolled his eyes, finding the whole scene pathetic and infuriating but stopped once more when he heard you agreeing to go out for a coffee with him.

Pedro felt rage shake his body, he didn't believe you ditched him and the dinner he'd especially made for you but yet thought it was acceptable to go out with a guy you had just met. He wanted to storm into the room, get you away from that weird guy and put some sense into your mind, but apparently it was no use.

He quickly returned to the parking lot and got into his car, trying to calm down and think straight. There was nothing he could do, he wasn't your boyfriend, at that point he wasn't even sure if you were still friends and yet he was possessive, you were his and no one else's.

He saw you walking out with Liev and decided to follow you, feeling his heart clench once he realized you went to the bakery you both used to go at least once in a week. Pedro felt such disappointment he couldn't put into words, how dare you do this to him?

He wanted answers, so he drove to your house.

An hour later you returned home, you felt tired from your workout session, but also a little excited at the man you'd met. He was very handsome and nice, and you figured there was no harm in spending some time with you, so you went for a cup of coffee with him, and that turned out to be two cups of coffee and one slice of strawberry cake, and you were not disappointed, he was sweet and fun. It reminded you a little of when you first became friends with Pedro, which brought a pang to your chest and you quickly dismissed, reminding yourself Liev's intentions were different, especially at how much he flirted with you. You placed your gym bag down and walked through the living room.

"We gotta talk, Y/N" Pedro's voice was cold and made you jump, startled as you turned back and saw him sitting on the couch. You swallowed hard, never expecting to find him there, watching you like a predator.

_____

A/N: Two things: I confess I was kinda anxious to post this because the first two pieces people really enjoyed it and I was worried this one wasn't good enough, so I hope with all my heart you guys didn't find it bad.

Also, I chose the name Liev, because of Liev Schreiber, but it was a just because choice. In real life he's taller than Pedro and his body type is more of a bulk, which makes him bigger and he's also older too (55yrs) but it won't be relevant for the story (yet) so you can picture whoever you want!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal works #male actors #hot actors

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toldentops · 1 year

Text

On the topic of “reblogs>likes”, I find that I don’t reblog art with these “out of spite and hatred in my heart” or whatever the fuck, I’m just kind of sad that this is a phenomenon in the first place. Like, as an artist, I absolutely understand that reblogs do count, especially depending on who reblogs it. But also as someone who used to obsess over the numbers on notes and get frustrated about something that I put effort into not getting attention, you kind of have to learn to realize that a) it’s not healthy to seek validation all the time from people on the internet and b) post what you like to post, and you will attract people that will reblog your posts eventually. Sometimes a post will just get happen to get seen by a popular blogger and reblog it, sometimes not, and you are not “owed” their reblog because they’re popular, which is another argument I’ve seen where people think they’re obligated to reblog their art. Sometimes it just depends on the content or the fandom and you have no control over it and that’s Fine. Some art I like enough to reblog, some art I’ll just leave a like, and that’s not a measure of how “good” the art is. And everybody operates their blog differently and nobody should be obligated to do one thing or another. And before anyone brings up “relying on social media for business” I absolutely do understand as someone who does business online, but you’re going to be getting attention primarily from people who already like and follow your art, and from my experience and seeing other people, lamenting on why your posts don’t get notes and if your art is good enough for attention is just going to drive people away. Sorry for being blunt. Have confidence in your art. Idk I wish there was more nuance about this topic but most talk about it annoys me anyways post over

#al speaks #like I don’t really think its assholish to not reblog a post . like its not that deep #I feel like the moment you try coercing someone into doing something it’s just going to be annoying but thats my personal opinion #and tbh I dont really care about ‘inflicting it on followers’ thats not something I particularly worry about #it’s just how I run my blog personally

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noyaspeach · 9 months

Text

first light

Summary: Could this be how every day begins?

After a long and restless night with no sleep, you go looking for something to while away the hours. As it turns out, Astarion is just as much of an insomniac as you are, and the two of you spend the early morning together.

Pairing: Astarion x Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 4,334

Tags: Fluff and Light Angst, Pining, Feelings Realization (Kinda?), Second Person POV, Soft Astarion, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Insomnia, Watching the Sunrise

Author's Note:

not me returning to fic-writing over 3 years later with an astarion fic of all things. i can't even guarantee i'll write another one considering i'm about to start college again, but i would sure like to!

i was heavily inspired to write this because of the release of hozier's album. it perfectly aligned with me becoming obsessed with baldur's gate 3, and astarion is just so hozier-coded, how could i not? as the title suggests, i was inspired by the song "first light" which is the last song on the album, based on dante's ascent out of hell and his first taste of light and freedom. i imagine it's how astarion must have felt when he was no longer forced to do cazador's bidding and when he could finally experience sunlight again.

obligatory disclaimers: i haven't actually played the game yet, so this fic is informed by clips i've seen online, gif sets, the baldur's gate wiki, and other fics. if any details in this aren't chronologically sound or if anything seems a little non-compliant with the canon of the game... now you know why lol.

still, i hope you enjoy it! this is also posted to ao3! read here!

///

You stare up at the ceiling of your tent, frustration rolling in your chest as you struggle to rest. Your eyes are beginning to sting with the lack of sleep, but simply closing them does nothing to help. You’ve gone through all of your belongings twice already, looking for something to ease you into slumber, but no amount of reading or alcohol seems to do the trick. It certainly doesn’t help that the weather has been oppressively humid all night, leaving you coated in a thin, sticky layer of sweat that doesn’t seem to leave you no matter how many layers you shed.

You can’t bear to lay around in the thick air of your tent, so you decide to sit out by the extinguished campfire in the hopes that it will do more to relax you.

You quietly open your tent flap and emerge into the mild morning air. It’s much cooler outside, and a light breeze tickles your arm, already doing wonders to dry your sweat. It’s still too early for daylight, so the camp is only dimly illuminated by the moonlight. With the lack of light, you listen out for the sounds of the forest around you: the chirps of insects beneath you, hooting owls in the distance, and a trickling stream not too far away. Focusing on these scarce sounds, you already feel much calmer.

After a moment of peace, you hear a rustle to your right. You whip your head toward the sound, hands ready at your weapon, when you see a familiar face emerge from the trees. You let your hands drop to your side again. It’s just Astarion. He appears to be returning to his tent, noticeably empty-handed. You wonder what he’s up to this early in the morning, and he seems to be wondering the same thing, eyeing you with an inquisitive raise of the eyebrow.

“Restless sleeper, are we?” He remarks.

“Something like that,” you reply. “Just needed some fresh air.”

You notice that Astarion is still in his sleepwear, the sleeves of his white undershirt pushed up above his elbows. “And what are you doing out?”

“Oh, you know. Searching for a midnight snack, so to speak.” He gestures to the woods behind him. “Unfortunately, there isn’t a very fine selection tonight.”

You grimace at the thought of Astarion catching an innocent woodland creature between his teeth. It’s a less-than-flattering image, one that’s informed by the memory of the boar he drained a while back, and one that you’re eager to dismiss.

“Is that all you’ve been up to?” You ask.

“Why? Were you getting lonely without me?” He teases. You can only roll your eyes in response. When he doesn’t receive a retort, Astarion sighs and continues. “Right, if you want an honest answer, I was going for a stroll to pass the time.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Wandering about on your own while everyone’s asleep isn’t a very good idea. If something happens out there, none of us will be able to save you”

“Trust me, darling, I can hold my own just fine. But I appreciate you worrying about my safety. It’s almost touching.” He smirks. “I would appreciate it even more if you would refrain from telling the others about my… routine here. I don’t exactly want the company.”

“Routine? How long have you been taking these walks?”

“Since the day I joined you all, I would say.” Astarion’s eyes move to the entrance of his own tent. “I haven’t been able to get much sleep myself, and I figure there isn’t much use laying on my bedroll if I’m not resting or satisfying… other needs. So, I walk. And occasionally feed.”

You search Astarion’s face for any sign of deception, but he’s being surprisingly truthful, if a little bashful. You resonate with his sleeplessness, being something of an insomniac yourself. Despite the immense toll your travels have taken on your body, you can’t seem to rest very easily at all, especially when you need it the most. Whether it’s the vivid memories of past battles replaying in your dreams, the smothering climate of whatever campsite you’ve picked out that night, or the relentless wriggling of the tadpole in your head, there’s always something keeping you up.

“I’m surprised I haven’t caught you earlier, then,” you say. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you,” says Astarion. He smiles, and it seems he means it too. “Well, seeing as neither one of us will be getting to bed anytime soon, would you care to join me?”

You cross your arms. “I thought you would have preferred to be alone.”

“Misery loves company and all. I think I can make an exception for a fellow night owl,” he drawls.

You agree to walk with him then and quietly head in the opposite direction of both tents. You’re sure to bring your weapon with you in the off chance that something—or someone—attacks the two of you. A very small part of you still garners some suspicion for Astarion himself, especially considering that night in which he tried to feed from you while you slept. Perhaps that’s another factor in your insomnia; although you let Astarion drink his fill that night, you can’t be entirely sure he won’t try it again. That he won’t succeed in creeping up on you and draining you completely.

You shiver at the thought, but pass it off as a cold chill from the wind. As the two of you slowly move from the campsite, your surroundings become even quieter. The chirping insects from before are silent now, and the nearby stream is barely a whisper. You can hardly hear either of your footsteps. It’s at once peaceful and unsettling.

After a few short minutes, you’re the first to break the silence. “What do you usually do when you’re out here?”

Astarion thinks for a moment, and hums. “Hmm. Aside from hunting, I suppose I just sit with my thoughts. There isn’t much else to do, is there?”

You nod, but somehow you don’t think being left with one’s own thoughts is particularly relaxing for anyone in your party. You can’t imagine it’s any good for Astarion, especially.

“And what do you think about?”

“So much,” he says. “Plans, mostly. Where our next destination is, where I’ll find my next meal, what I’ll do when we reach Baldur’s Gate, how to get rid of this wretched parasite…”

“Do you ever think about your past?”

Astarion’s gaze is a bit distant until you ask that. He slows his pace and turns to you, looking unusually serious. “I prefer not to.”

He leaves it at that, so you decide not to push further. You only know a little about Astarion’s life before the tadpole entered his mind. You know he’s the spawn of an even more powerful vampire, a master to whom he was a slave for nearly 200 years, and you know he’s lived in the shadows up until now. It isn’t lost on you that this entire adventure is his first taste of freedom in centuries. You understand why he would rather focus on the future. Still, your nagging curiosity makes you desperate for more information about him.

“What about you, my dear?” He returns to his more amused attitude. “What do you do in that tent of yours to pass the time until the morning comes? Don’t tell me if it’s anything naughty… Actually, do.”

You shake your head and suppress a smile as he actually almost earns a laugh from you. “Nothing like that. I normally just try to distract myself until I can hopefully fall back asleep. Read something, sort my wares, hum a tune. Anything to relax.”

“I take it that hasn’t been working for you?”

“No. Not one bit. I’m actually kind of worried it might start affecting my performance from now on. Unlike some of the elves in this team, I actually need quite a lot of rest.”

“A true shame,” he tuts. “Although it is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, I don’t need to sleep for very long. On the other, I can’t sleep for very long. Sometimes I do wish I could simply let the whole day pass while I doze off. That would be much easier than just waiting it out.”

You hadn’t considered this. While the rest of your traveling companions are able to sleep through the night, Astarion has no choice but to wait for everyone to wake up around sunrise. All he can do is hope to get a few hours of rest before sitting through the unnerving silence of the night, the only unique sounds being the faint snores and mumbles that float from the other tents. You and he are alike in this struggle, but you at least are lucky enough to have a few nights when your exhaustion is bad enough to force you to bed.

“Well, taking a stroll like this is a good idea,” you finally say. “Thank you for inviting me along.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of Astarion’s lips. “Thank you for joining me. I will admit, it’s easier to pass the time with a… friend… by my side.”

Your heart swells at that word: “friend.” It’s a welcome upgrade from whatever you two might have been considered before.

A few minutes pass with the both of you chatting politely. As you walk, you make note of your surroundings to ensure that you don’t stray too far from camp or encounter any traps. This occupies your mind for a while, but Astarion seems to be running out of topics to discuss. Not wanting him to abandon your little trip just yet, you try to think of something to entertain him. Looking out at the forest and the sky in front of you, you notice that the moon has begun its descent into the trees, meaning morning is almost upon you two. This gives you an idea.

You stop and pivot to face Astarion. He stops too, surprised at your sudden pause.

“What is it?” He asks.

"Would you like to watch the sunrise with me?”

He’s taken aback only momentarily before he adopts his familiar flirtatious demeanor. “Trying to turn this into a romantic tryst, are you? If you want something more, you’ll have to be a little more direct than that.”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t mean anything by it. I want to know if you’ll sit and watch the sun come up with me. That’s all. It should be rising soon enough. It’s almost morning.”

He seems puzzled, his brows tightening and eyes scanning your face for any indication that you may be holding something back. When he doesn’t find anything, he settles back into an easy expression. “I seem to have misjudged. My apologies… Yes, I wouldn’t mind sitting with you.”

“Great.” You smile and begin to walk again. “I heard some water earlier, so I think there may be a stream near here. Maybe it’ll make for a nice spot.”

Astarion follows as you lead him closer to the sound of running water, and the two of you shortly come upon the stream. It’s a small, shallow brook that separates the woods from which you emerge and another expanse of trees on the other side. Right along the edge of the water is a line of smooth rocks big enough to sit on. It’s the perfect place to set up, you think.

The two of you find purchase on the edge of the rocks, feet just barely dangling off the side, hovering above the calmly flowing water. The rocks aren’t terribly big, so the two of you sit side-by-side, your knees close enough to touch. Across the brook, the trees begin to thin out, leaving a clear view of the horizon. You estimate that the sun will start its ascent in the next few minutes, but for now, the scene in front of you remains thinly bathed in moonlight.

In the quiet of the dawn, the moon casts its silvery glow on the world beneath it. Every blade of grass, every dewy flower, every mossy stone radiates with a hazy blue hue. The stream beneath you reflects this onto both of your faces, and you give a sideways glance to your companion next to you. You watch as the light dances across his cheeks, admiring how it shines in his curls, how it glistens in his deep red eyes, and how it collects in the space just above his lips. You inhale and the earthy scent of the forest mixes with the smell of Astarion’s perfume in your nose. As you do so, you realize now just how close in proximity you are to him. You’re close enough to trace his silhouette from the slope of his nose to his slender neck with your fingers if you so choose. You glimpse at the puncture marks just below his jaw and remember once more the night you let him drink from you. You remember the moment you awoke in terror before you realized who was crouched above you. You remember the uncertainty you felt as you gave him permission to continue, not sure whether it was a wise decision or not. You remember the sharp sting of his teeth entering your skin and the almost exhilarating dizziness that followed as he coaxed your blood out with his tongue. The rest of that moment is a blur to you, but you can still distinctly recall how he cradled your head with one hand, the other gently ghosting down your spine. For almost a full day after that night, the smell of bergamot and rosemary lingered on your neck.

“You do know staring is rude, don’t you, darling?” Astarion says. “Not that I particularly mind.” He leans back on his arms and turns to face you. “Not when it’s you.”

Your cheeks flush in spite of the cool temperature. You wonder when it was you became so vulnerable to Astarion’s flirting. Even though you have, you try not to entertain it. After all, you suspect his charming behavior is at least partly a ruse.

“Sorry,” you mutter and look back at the horizon. “It’s very pretty out. It’ll be even prettier in just a few more minutes, too. We’re in the perfect spot to watch the sun come up.”

“Is that so?” Astarion tilts his head as he continues to behold you. “You know, I’ve never watched the sunrise like this.”

You twist to look at him again, utterly shocked. “Seriously? Not once?”

He shakes his head.

“How come?”

He sighs. “I’m sure I must have before… everything. But I can’t seem to remember anything from back then. I lost most of my memories when I was brought back, save for a few of the important details. I suppose sunrises weren’t important enough to stick.” He frowns and stares out at a canopy of trees in the distance. “Then, as you know, it would have been incredibly stupid for me to be out in the light with this condition of mine. So, I never tried. I didn’t have very many opportunities to do so, in any case.”

Your brow furrows, but you don’t say anything. Instead, you let Astarion continue at his own pace.

“...I spent decades in my master’s lair, a- a dungeon, really. I was trapped in the darkness. The only time I was allowed out was when he needed fresh, new bodies, and even then it was always under the cover of night. For the longest time, that was all that I knew. In a way, it’s what I’m still used to…”

Suddenly his sleeplessness makes all the more sense to you.

“I know I’m free from that now, what with the tadpole and all, but…” He trails off. You understand.

After several beats of silence, you clear your throat.

“Once, when I was a child, I went playing in the woods with some of the other children in the village. There were maybe six of us in total? I don’t exactly remember. But we marched all the way from the market to the forest pretending we were a band of heroes. I was at the back of the line, right behind this boy that I really liked. I put myself there on purpose so that I could smile and blush as much as I wanted without him seeing me.”

“How cute,” Astarion comments with a quirked eyebrow.

“Yeah. I mean, I thought I was being clever, but it was pretty silly, wasn’t it? Anyways, when we entered the woods, we decided to split off into teams to see who could find the most ‘treasure.’ We just plucked up sticks, flowers, beetles, pinecones, that kind of stuff. I was paired with the boy I liked, and I was so giddy about it. I wanted to show him just how cool I was, so I climbed up every tree and jumped off every rock. Just hearing him laugh and clap for me was enough for me to keep going. So, I did. Before we knew it, we realized we had strayed too far from the rest of the group. We tried to call out to them but heard nothing in return. We were lost.”

You pause your story to get a brief look at Astarion. You half-expect him to be bored by this point, but you’re surprised to see that he’s giving you his full attention. He waves his hand, signaling for you to continue.

“We started playing late into the evening, so by the time we realized that we had no clue where we were, the sun had already begun to set. I remember cursing myself for wishing I could have some alone time with this boy because that wasn’t at all what I had had in mind. But, alas, that was the situation I was stuck in. When it reached midnight and we still hadn’t made our way back to the village, I started panicking. You should know that I used to be deathly afraid of the forest at night. I was terrified of what kind of creatures could be hiding, waiting to snatch me up and eat me alive.”

“Hmm, like vampires?” Astarion teases.

You smirk. “Precisely. You’ll remember, though, that I was stuck with the boy I liked. So, there was no way I could show that I was scared. I couldn’t display any sign of weakness or else he might not think I was as cool as I let off. Knowing this, I put on a brave face and silently begged the gods for some protection before I assembled a makeshift camp for the two of us. It was, admittedly, very shitty, but it did its job of giving us some shelter for the night. I told him he could sleep and that I would keep watch, and so I did. I didn’t sleep very much back then, either, now that I think about it. I guess not a lot has changed about me… But I digress. I stayed up the whole night, sitting outside our little fort, listening to him snore and talk in his sleep. I don’t think I could have left his side if I wanted to, considering how petrified I was. But I powered through the fear, for his sake. I was so young, but I cared about this boy so much that I felt I owed it to him to make sure he was safe.”

“You were quite the hero, even back then,” Astarion says gently. “Is this little story your way of telling me to be more selfless?”

“Not at all. I’m getting to the point, I promise. I sat there for hours as I waited for it to become day again. Eventually, I was able to focus on the more beautiful parts of the night: the moon, the stars, the lightning bugs, the sweet whisper of the wind through the leaves. The more I searched for the good in my situation, the less scared I became, until I was no longer scared at all. By the time dawn rolled around, I was at peace, actually. I was so proud of myself for making it through the night, I immediately woke the boy up to share the moment with him. Then, we sat together, kind of like this,” You gesture to your and Astarion’s seating position, “and just watched the sunrise in perfect silence. I had never watched the sunrise before. It was so nice, getting to quietly enjoy such a wonderful view with someone I loved.”

As you finish your story, you face Astarion once more. His gaze is soft as he listens to you speak, and the tender curl of his lips betrays a sincere gratitude for having shared this with him.

“Did anything ever happen between you and that boy?” He asks.

“Sadly, no. He eventually fell for some other girl in town. Last I heard, they had three kids together.”

“Hmm.” Astarion angles his chin away from you. “Well, that’s his loss.”

You look away, too, and smile to yourself.

Suddenly, the sky begins to transform before your eyes. The first gleams of sunlight begin to caress the horizon as the moon takes its final bow behind you. The forest, still coated with all the glimmering remnants of morning dew, stirs from its slumber under the streams of the emerging sun. As the sun slowly rises, its warm embrace spreads like honey between the trees, flooding the forest floor with rays of pink and amber. Shafts of light pierce through the lush foliage, creating scintillating patterns on the surface of the water that seem to dance at the promise of a new day. Finally, when the sun peers at you from above the treetops, it’s as if the sky erupts. A burst of brilliance envelopes the world below it in its welcoming embrace, casting everything in a blazing golden light.

You begin to say something to Astarion but stop when you see his face. He looks positively radiant. His face glows in the daylight, appearing even more magnificent than he did in the moon’s silver beams. His face and his hair are colored by the sun, making him look more alive than he ever has before. Every detail from the strands in his eyebrows to the smallest of moles is illuminated before you. You watch as his eyes glisten before softly fluttering closed. He breathes deeply, his chest slowly rising and falling, and he basks in the sunlight. He relaxes completely, letting the sun’s rays melt away any and all tension he may have been holding on to.

You want nothing more than to cup his face in your hands, then, and feel the newly imbued warmth of his skin as you press your lips to his. Instead, however, you carefully place your hand on top of his. His eyes blink open and he turns to look at you once more. You hesitate for a moment, ready to move away, but he doesn’t reject you. His eyes crinkle with appreciation and he laces your fingers together before gently stroking his thumb against the side of your hand. His skin is still a bit cold, but thanks to you, it quickly warms up.

The two of you sit there in tranquility, taking in all of the sights, sounds, and feelings of the early morning. Time seems to slow, then, as if the universe itself also wishes to savor this serene moment for just a little while longer.

Soon, you hear the distant sound of casual conversation as the others awaken for yet another day of arduous traveling. You sigh, knowing that the two of you will have to return to camp shortly and leave all of this behind. You don’t want to let go just yet.

“We should probably get back,” Astarion says first. “I wouldn’t want the others to think that I killed you and scurried off or something like that.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be very good for morale,” you joke. After a moment, you reluctantly untwine your fingers and push yourself up off the rocks. You extend a hand to Astarion to help him up, which he graciously accepts.

Neither of you moves at first until Astarion takes a step toward you. Standing so close to you, you wonder if he’s about to kiss you when he gingerly takes hold of your hands. He gives you that sincere smile again.

“Thank you again for this. It was… nice.” You almost can’t believe how vulnerable he seems right now, eyes staring into yours with no hint of false pretenses. “I’d like to do this again with you, if you’ll join me.”

“I would love to.”

“Wonderful,” he says. He lets go of you. “Shall we then?”

The two of you take your time walking back to the campsite, talking idly about what the next few days have in store. When you arrive, Karlach is the first to notice you.

“There you two are! We were beginning to worry.” She looks between you both and crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes mischievously. “Anything we should know about your disappearance?”

You chuckle. “Nothing that would excite you, Karlach.”

You walk past her and approach your tent. The rest of your team is already getting to work cleaning their weapons, armor, and other equipment, preparing to hunt, or strategizing together. Before you duck inside to retrieve your clothes for washing, you turn back and lock eyes with Astarion. He’s entered a conversation between Shadowheart and Gale, but he isn’t all that engaged. He shoots you a knowing look and another small smile which you return in kind.

As you wash your clothes in the river just south of the camp, you think fondly of the promise you’ve now made with Astarion and the many sunrises to come. Suddenly, insomnia doesn’t seem so bad.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion baldur's gate #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #i want to give astarion so much love pls

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drdemonprince · 2 months

Note

Your post about "transitioning to escape gender but then there's more gender" has been rotating furiously in my mind since I saw it. When I first realized I was trans at age 15, I identified as agender, but I knew I wanted to go on T and get top surgery so I decided it would be simpler to tell everyone I was a trans man and that just kind of became the truth. Now 10 years later I'm sorta starting to feel like I wanna actually be agender again, but the idea of an identity shift like that at my current age is terrifying and idek who I'd tell, or how I'd do it, and I don't think I wanna stop using he/him exclusively, and I have no idea why I'm telling *you* this other than that I'm scared to talk to anyone I know about it because it feels like somehow admitting that I was wrong about the gender I fought like hell to become, even though i don't really think that's the case I think my sense of self might just be continuously evolving... but I just wanna say you talking about having a gender shift like once every several years is helping me process this rn and feel like I'm not faking anything now AND wasn't faking anything before.

Dog i am right there with you. As a kid I always thought gender was bullshit, the coercive nature of it disgusted and scared me and I rebelled against it the best that I could. I loathed being assigned to any gender category, I never identified as a "girl", but I didn't really identify with any other category either. Puberty terrified me (and of course, it does most young people, but it felt like it would only more deeply entrench the category that I was assigned to in other people's minds, it made it more difficult to escape). I had trans friends as a teen but it did not occur to me to transition because there was really no end goal that I wanted to head toward, I just knew what I wanted to avoid and not experience. I coped mostly by degendering my body with a fairly androgynous style and way of presenting myself to the word and mannerisms, but also by starving myself which was not so great, and not sustainable. I considered transness for myself, even trying on a friend's binder and presenting masculinely at certain queer events, but it seemed to me at the time like just another way in which to obsess over gender, a foolish coercive socially constructed thing that i was trying to avoid.

In my 20s, I learned more about nonbinary people and figured that explained things pretty well. I was enamored with the transition journeys of some other trans people, largely trans women more than trans masculine ones (with some trans-effeminate faggot boy exceptions), but I still didn't want to take on all the expense and uncertainty and hassle of navigating the medical system for myself. I didn't think that the pursuit of being happy merited taking on so many risks or fiddling with myself so much. I saw it as an extravagance I didn't deserve, I guess, and I also couldn't locate a target outcome that seemed desirable enough for me. I was still dealing with an eating disorder and recovering from some trauma and didn't really think about my life in the long term. I guess I still don't, haha, whoops.

Eventually I came out as nonbinary, and nobody really gave a shit. There is a lot of useless, solidarity-breaking discourse that happens online about essentially who is "more" oppressed, binary trans people or nonbinary people, and a lot of that fight amounts to the two groups shouting about the ways in which they annoy one another without there being any cogent analysis of power and where oppression comes from (let alone how much those two categories overlap).

But I will say that being a they/them was far more difficult than being a trans guy socially and institutionally, because your identity is completely illegible to every system around you. "binary" trans people struggle under this too, but i have found there are some immense benefits to having a socially and institutionally legible target gender. nobody would fucking actually they/them me. not anyone. not even other trans people and queer people. there were no public gendered spaces for me. there were no spaces for me. there was no way to move through the medical system, professional life, and other public institutions as a nonbinary person. i was still just a cis woman in everyone's eyes. including the people who claimed to support me. and it was massively frustrating.

and so i think ultimately, i took my frustrations with not being at all able to escape coerced gendering as a nonbinary person and combined that with the affinity i do feel for queer men and the general sense of misery i was still experiencing in my life and decided what the hell, i'll round myself up to being a trans guy. i upped my T dose, i dressed more masculinely, i eventually got a super masculine hair cut that really squared off my jawline and got me gendered correctly, and i started more consciously inhabiting queer men's spaces.

and it was pretty dope. for a while. i felt the rush of having gotten away with something. when people effortlessly gendered as male i felt freed at last from the pressure to be a woman. i was no longer being coerced into being something that i was not. i had escaped the enforced category so much that people couldn't even see the history of that category being pushed onto me. there was relief.

but then. as always happens. people made little comments about my handshake being too weak for a man. the hypermasc dudes at the leather bar rolled their eyes at me and all the other effeminate dudes swanning around the bar. the people who picked me up off the apps or at the sauna would always let it slip, eventually, that they had a lot of experience with trans guys, or had most recently been dating all trans guys, and it would make me feel like a stock character to them, yet another category into which all kinds of assumptions had been projected. a type not a person. a few people said my haircut made me look like i was in the military or described me as actually masculine, which was equally jarring because it was so incorrect. people tried to affirm me by saying i was such a dude, i was such a man, i was such a fag, i was such a gay bro, pawing all over me leaving the mark of all their assumptions and oversimplifications behind. i had tried to run away from gender and there i was just BASTING all the time in everybody's goddamn assumptions about gender. trans people didn't talk about it any less than cis people did, they were just as fucking confining to be around.

it honestly feels really dirty. when people try to affirm your gender constantly and can't stop talking about it, when people look past you and see only your body, your history, or the role they have typecast you in, when people use your body as an outlet for their own gender or sexuality explorations, when they keep trying to measure every single facet of existence up into being masculine or being feminine or being toppy or bottomy or any other gendered type, it's claustrophobic.

as a trans man i tried playing this whole gender game and the second i started winning i began to feel even more disgusted with myself. it wasn't a victory or an escape, it was a capitulation. exploring with my identity and presentation has brought positive things into my life and my health has gotten better as a result, and i've made wonderful friends who, like me, are disaffected by this coercive gendering system. so i don't regret any of that. but trying to make myself legible under the existing gendered system was a fool's fucking errand. i wish i hadnt done it to myself and i wish i hadnt had it pushed onto me. to be clear, it was cissexist, binarist society that forced it onto me; even when other queer people coated me in their gendered assumptions that is obviously a byproduct of societal conditioning, and it's conditioning that ive reinforced in my own behavior and outlook toward others plenty of times too. we all do it, and we are all wronged by the existing coercive gender system.

i dont even care how i fucking identify anymore and i have no intention of changing pronouns again or anything, i'm so bored of it, i just actually want off this fucking thing. im not interested in trying to make others understand what i am anymore or in who i am even being simply categorizable, i dont want to obsess anymore over how i am perceived or to attempt engineer my appearance and mannerisms to broadcast an identity to anyone. i dont even want to fuck anybody right now at all because im so sick of how much that's a gender pantomime for people. i want off this fuckin ride man im so done.

it's kind of freeing, to hit this point of complete gender apathy, and i think it is a pretty common stage of identity development for a lot of queer people who have explored multiple identities and roles over time. there is no category that i actually am, or that anyone is, there are just the frameworks that society has given us to work with to understand ourselves, and the ways in which we flatten who we are to be able to make sense of the world using those frameworks. but who i actually am is so much more contextual and mutable than all that. i am a different person in the classroom than i am on the train platform than i am in the bedroom than i am cuddling on the couch than i am when i'm working out than i am when curled up on the floor crying than i am at a big furry convention. who i am continues to change as new people come in and out of my life and age and change and my body alters and as the weather turns. who fuckin knows man it's nothing and everything. i want to let it just be

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wonyscafe · 1 year

Text

╭──────────.★..─╮

astrology observations

╰─..★.──────────╯

↳ Please note that these are my own, personal observations and that they're all from my own experiences!! <33

𖹭

☁️ no bc something about taurus placements and smell... every taurus I know is able to identify a certain smell so quickly (someone I know with a taurus sun can smell if someone has their period 😰)

☁️ my virgo friends love to brag about their knowledge, but once you ask them something, they

get really helpful and explain the answer to your question so patiently :(

☁️ leo/aqua risings 🤝 pinterest baddies

☁️ something I've noticed about air signs is that they have very prominent eyes

☁️ water signs have some sort of obsession with New York for some reason

↳ honorable mention: sagittarius!!!

☁️ something I've noticed abour aries risings is that they tend to have many moles

☁️ yo... cancer and aquarius in a chart... sweats nervously

☁️ lots of fire/water in a chart can indicate being a good dancer

☁️ scorpio placements might have (acne) scars on their face

☁️ whats up w aquarius placements and stalking ppl online??? 😭😭

↳ my aqua ex has been stalking me and found multiple accounts of mine??? HE HAS A GF???

☁️ I have a theory that the reason why water signs usually don't get along w geminis is because geminis often match someone elses energy, but water signs have that unmatchable energy so the gemini comes across as fake to them??? I hope this made sense

☁️ sharing same mars sign as your moon sign with someone, could show that the moon person is really supportive when it comes to the mars persons ambitions n goals

☁️ aqua and leo placements are hard to manipulate unless you make use of their ego... coming from someone w a scorpio sun, leo moon and aqua rising

☁️ saturnian people might really like yoga for some reason

☁️ chiron in 7th could indicate being afraid of relationships

↳same as libra 8th house

☁️ empty 5th house can indicate not knowing how to deal w kids

☁️ aquarius placements know how to detach themselves from negative situations

☁️ I've noticed that (specifically) men with virgo in their big 3 have like one specific hyperfixation

☁️ why are most water sign men blond/have a lighter hair color???

☁️ virgo risings attract cats somehow

↳ a/n : here was another observation post!! :) I have so many asks in my inbox and some of them take too much time to answer, so they could take longer :( I'm really sorry about that!! I really try to do them all whenever I get the time </3 🫶🏻

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tendermiasma · 21 days

Note

Sorry if this is kinda a depressing question, but how do you find the will power to keep posting your art? Personally I'm struggling to be more confident in sharing my art in a world full of ai programs data scraping and being really scared of putting myself out there consistently, I don't understand how others manage to keep doing it. How did you overcome nervousness (if any) as a beginning artist? I keep scrapping blogs and remaking and burning out and then deleting again before I do it all over.

I'm sorry you're struggling with art, it's not fun. In my case I have this unfortunate disease that makes me think everyone needs to see every thought about my obsessions that passes through my brain and I've been that way forever. I have a lot of feelings about the things I love and this is how I communicate them. I'm as frustrated at AI as anyone else but sharing my art is just a really enjoyable part of my life and it's the remedy to things that upset me. I don't see a reason to cede ground to something inferior that will get destroyed in litigation anyway because nothing can be copyrighted. It's also kind of my job to be online because it's where a lot of networking happens; being prepared for financial disruption is a powerful motivator.

It sounds like you're getting a little bogged down in the blogmaking stage so I'd try not messing with UI or organization and just focusing on making and posting art for a while. The other stuff can be done later. From my experience in doing things that are intimidating, they'll never not be intimidating until you do it so you just have to push through for a bit. Also putting Glaze and Nightshade on your work help protect against AI scraping.

#asks

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schizodiaries · 6 months

Text

how to care for a loved one with schizophrenia

I have made a few posts already about self-care tips for schizophrenic people, but now I want to talk about different ways a non-schizophrenic can help care for their schizophrenic friends and family.

Do some research on schizophrenia. Learn about the history of the disorder, the symptoms that may be present (and the different categories of symptoms), the medication we take, etc. Showing that you’ve made an effort to try to understand us is a kind gesture and we won’t forget it.

Learn how to talk to someone who is actively delusional, psychotic, or hallucinating. You want to stay as neutral as possible, as in, avoid outright denying or endorsing what they believe. (Ex. “I’m the president of the U.S.” “Oh, I thought the president was Joe Biden?”)

Uncover their triggers. If they are comfortable sharing it with you, it may help to know what their triggers are so you can avoid them or help them to cope. (Sharing triggers is a sign of trust, don’t abuse this trust by taking advantage of them.)

Create a safe and welcoming environment for your schizophrenic loved one. Refrain from using ableist language, or misusing words used to describe our symptoms (delusional, psychotic, etc). We might not act like it hurts us, but it does.

Don’t believe in all the stereotypes you see in the media. Schizophrenic people are not inherently violent. At the same time, don’t be surprised if they display bizarre or unpredictable behavior. This illness affects different people in different ways. There is no one way to be schizophrenic.

Speaking of which, let your schizophrenic loved one unmask every now and again, or as often as you’re both comfortable with. Let them talk to themselves, make odd movements, rant about their ideas, obsess over numbers, or whatever unmasking looks like for them. Don’t punish them for it or make them feel bad about it either.

Try not to see schizophrenia as something that needs to be “cured.” Currently there is no cure for schizophrenia, though it is treatable. It’s one thing to wish for a cure as a schizophrenic person, but it’s another for someone else to wish we can be cured. To us, it implies that you don’t want us to be ourselves or want to change something about us. Wouldn’t you rather have us just the way we are, schizophrenia and all?

Avoid sending your loved one to a psych hospital as much as possible. I understand that they aren’t all bad and can be necessary or even beneficial to a person experiencing a mental health crisis. But these places are notorious for being neglectful, traumatizing, and abusive. Look at the reviews for any of your local psych hospitals and tell me why you would want to send your loved one there.

If you want to join support groups for schizophrenia, online or irl, look into ones that focus primarily on the people that have the illness, not just their loved ones. It’s important to hear directly from schizophrenic individuals and learn about the experiences we have. I understand it may be hard for you as a parent, child, caretaker, etc. of a schizophrenic person, but it’s infinite times harder for them.

#mental wellness #schizoaffective #schizophrenia

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i-turned-into-the-stone · 2 months

Text

Pickles!

GREETINGS!

WELCOME TO OUR COLLECTION OF PICKLES, OR AS WE LIKE TO CALL IT, "CASUAL SMUT."

WE'VE GOT A BUNCH OF THESE THAT HAVE BEEN MARINATING FOR QUITE SOME TIME.

EACH WEEK, WE'RE GONNA GRAB ONE OF THESE PICKLES, NO PARTICULAR ORDER, AND SERVE IT UP.

JUST A HEADS UP, IF I GET A COMMISSION, I WILL HIT THE PAUSE BUTTON ON CASUAL SMUT PRODUCTION FOR THE WEEK.

PLEASE REFER TO THE PICKLE JAR STATUS TO CHECK. THANK YOU.

Pickle Jar Status:

[ONLINE] - Casual Smut ongoing

[OFFLINE] - Commission Smut ongoing

[AFK] - Resting

Request is closed at the moment but questions and other stuff are welcomed.

Schedule:

❎ = Pending

✅ = Completed

🔛 = Ongoing

🔛 1. Karina ft. Winter

Plot: Bratty younger sister Karina that always threatens her brother to do her chores probably works better for the plot but we all know bitchy Karina Noona getting taught a lesson is way hotter.

❎ 2. Baek Jiheon

Plot: Hi, can you please write a mind-break non-con for Baek Jiheon, that adorable little kitten needs to experience some dick in her tight little pussy.

❎ 3. Rei

Plot: IVE Rei tricked into something else due to "language barriers".

❎ 4. Ahn Yujin

Plot: Secretary Yujin of a middle-aged Chaebol has more physical work than desk work contrary to what people think. On an average day, she starts the day warming her master's cock wrapping it with her warm holes. If there is a higher-up meeting, she serves gangbang while they talk about important business. Getting tossed from one man's lap to another one or two is her main job basically. Her boss even fuck her wherever in the office building he wants. The day ended with her all holes stuffed with cum and a wicked smile on her face getting exactly what this slut loves.

❎ 5. Shuhua

A/N plot: Please write a smut based on Shuhua's recent Instagram post where she uploaded a pic of her huge ass from behind. Please write a non-con as degrading as possible. Badass girl deserves hardcore punishment.

❎ 6. SuA

Plot: Bend over, tie down to a table, and force to take a train of men, each one’s penis bigger than the previous. Abused, pissed on, beaten, broken, and getting so far that something snaps in her mind, making her use the guys who broke her until they can't do it anymore and she gets mad for this, getting hysterical and screaming at them to give her more.

❎ 7. Swan

Plot: I see you're a non-con enthusiast, can you make me a Purple Kiss Swan smut? The twist is it's Swan who's doing the non-conning, and the reader can't help but accept the fact she's totally dominating you for being subtle about her feelings. (I don't say I request a non-con Yandere Swan but yeah)

❎ 8. Lily

Plot: Here's another idea for you if you're interested. Your daughter Haewon is behaving rudely to you and even misses Father's Day to go out partying, but her best friend Lily sees this and feels bad, and decides to make it up to you in bed, seducing you and even making you film it and send it to haewon.

❎ 9. Yoon

Plot: How about STAYC Yoon being accidentally mistaken as a prostitute by a sexpat?

❎ 10. Yeji/Yuna

Plot: For the cervix penetration I think if you choose Yeji maybe after deep penetration the cervix starts dilating, Yuna why not push it through 🫣

❎ 11. Bada Lee/Ryujin

A/N plot: Huge fan of your work! could you do a bada Lee or a Ryujin smut? (I know Bada Lee but not that interested in her so I might do Ryujin. I will see how it goes.)

❎ 12. Tzuyu

Plot: Volleyball player Tzuyu who gets injured during a game and the trainer! the reader who takes advantage of her while she can't get away.

❎ 13. Hikaru

A/N plot: What if for Hikaru, you still stand and carry, but you pass her around to other men?

❎ 14. Wonyoung

Plot: Wonyoung gets humbled by obsessed fans for acting cocky. So they put her in her slutty place by thoroughly fucking her every hole mindlessly throughout the night. And they didn't forget to stream it live either.

❎ 15. AleXa

A/N plot: Gets fucked and ruined by cocks larger than her arms.

❎ 16. Giselle

Plot: Gym rat Giselle getting mercilessly punished by real bodybuilders at the gym for teasing them with her thick ass and thighs. So they raped her using the gym equipment, to use her in deeper reaching positions. They pounded her ass until her tight hole loosened wide and she couldn't keep her shit anymore pooping uncontrollably in front of everyone. You can also add Somi in the story like she is the one who conspired against her out of her jealousy for thickness but the men fucked the shit out of both of them anyway.

❎ 17. J

Plot: StayC J getting fucked silly while drunk at a frat party in her freshman year of college. Going to a party to try and meet people but ended up drinking way too much and passed out in a random bedroom. The reader finds her passed out and decides to take advantage of her tight body.

❎ 18. Taeyeon

A/N Plot: Write on MILF Taeyeon, please. And preferably noncon.

❎ 19. Sakura

A/N plot: PLEASE DO A MIYAWAKI SAKURA FIC 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

❎ 20. Miyeon

A/N plot: Miyeon, please make non-con of Miyeon. Her big boobs are such a tease recently.

❎ 21. Ahn Yujin

Plot: You are "fixing" her transmitter pack for the in-ear monitor. She is still within visual range of the VIP crowd for the sound check but what you're doing is conveniently hidden from her shadows. That's when you unzip and non-con her from behind.

❎ 22. Karina

Plot: Karina offers herself to sponsors to save her team members from the ordeal. But then she got brutally gangbanged at a private party, all her holes abused to the point that she started to question the life choices that made her into an idol, aka rich people's expensive fuck doll. Her only solace is she saved her sisters, but how long that is the question.

This blog will be occasionally updated!

#to do list #weekly

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sgiandubh · 6 months

Note

Hi, I don't know if you understand me or go through this, I would like to know your feeling about it.

After all this circus (which I can't take anymore and after a few years in the fandom) I can't stand Caitríona anymore. I swear I try, I swear I try to get excited about her projects. I swear I try to understand her reasons, her anger, her antipathy towards us all these years. For a long time I managed to suppress this sad feeling I feel for her, but now it screams. I can not anymore.

On the other hand, I still support Sam, even more than I should, because he, along with her, plays the main role in the narrative and is not a saint. I think these feelings would be the signal to leave the ship. I no longer admire her, I no longer miss her, at least on social media, I no longer even want to see her face.

I feel bad for feeling this way, I don't know what to do. Have you ever felt like that? And before you start offending me, I'll tell you: I'm not anti, only or whatever. I am someone who paid a lot of attention to this narrative and ended up hurt, very hurt by them, by her specially…

Dear Feel Bad Anon,

I was just about to go to bed after a very, very long and dense day, but your question stopped me in my tracks. Story of my life, really: that banging on the dorm's door at midnight ('it's vile X, we just broke up, help') - ah, the memories. So, I will not let you down.

First of all, thank you for this ask. It is a genuine one, I know it. It takes a lot of honesty to write it down without cackle, hysteria and the everlasting 'they owe me' refrain (no, they don't owe anybody anything, because, Anon, do you owe anybody anything when you are that much in love? I am sure you don't give a hoot about Aunt Y and Neighbor Z, Anon, and fuck them and their curiosity, eh?). And, my goodness, you really do sound exhausted, here.

Take a good look at this pic I took in Mandalay (see post below) of a Yama Zatdaw (Ramayana) puppet show:

All these public ten years are summed up in here: the puppeteers (TPTB), the puppets (S&C) and the convenient prop ( T) in the middle.

Where are the private ten years? I could think of this Amarapura pic, taken the day after the puppet show:

And that is ok, Anon. It's them. Their lives. Their love. We are just peepers through a keyhole, in here: let's try and do it gracefully.

You don't like C anymore? S couldn't give a damn about how you feel, Anon, and forgive me if I sound brutal. He loves her and he already did the unthinkable for her. C does give a damn about you, however. Not because she cares about you, but because she probably thinks your intelligence and your questioning endanger her narrative and put at risk all the negotiated perks. This is why she thought intelligent to bark at you and publicly insult you: by a simple zealot reflex, her part of the bargain. It has nothing to do with her private truth. You are disappointed by a puppet, not the real C. Or, using this time Plato's Allegory of the Cave, you are mad at the silhouettes reflected on the walls of that cave, not at the people whose reflections you see - those people are outside the cave.

Get out of that mental cave, Anon. Stop racking your brains off trying to give definitive answers that cannot be honestly given with the amount of information we have. Stop obsessing about a visibly curated social media presence, online times and all this shit - they mean very little, especially at this point in time. Trust your heart and your intuition. Trust your life experience. Trust yourself, not me. All this side of the fandom can offer you is based on our own life paths and street smarts. Do I think it's legit? Of course, otherwise I'd not be here or I'd be a pervert. Do I think that together we'd be a step closer to what really is? Oh, by all means. But you are the only sovereign master of the course, here. You are the only one able to choose between believing or rejecting, staying on deck or jumping ship.

I chose to be interested in the puppeteers, Anon. The paper trail. The minute intricacies. The boring details Mordor does not want to see or doesn't know how to translate in simple English. That is really what keeps me going and that is something I will never publicly trade. The more I look into it, the clearer the picture is. Oh, for sure, I take great pleasure in seeing and discussing the script inconsistencies - don't we all? But to me and as I see it, this is the tip of the iceberg. The bar I set myself for public happenings, statements and all the shit show is very low. It avoids undue disappointment and even allows me to be relaxed about it. Not always. Not a perfect strategy. But it is my way of managing it and so far, it works.

Take at least a day off Tumblr. Think of it as detox. I can guarantee you will see it way clearer. I wish you well, Anon. And I really hope my long, long answer helped at least a little bit.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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sentfromwolves · 3 months

Text

◈—⌈ SENTFROMWOLVES ⌋ writeblr introduction ²⁰²⁴

Hi everyone, and welcome to my writeblr 2024 introduction. My name is Eran (they/he & freshly thirty) and I've been on writeblr for awhile, so you might've seen me around. ( •̀ ω •́ ) This is my yearly post to introduce the projects I'll be working on this year, what I write, and who I am. I'll be keeping it short and sweet.

I'd love to meet more writers this year, so if you write any of the following, or just like these genres, or even just wanna shout about ocs together, come holler and I'll give you a follow!

◈ — sci-fi and fantasy of any kind! cozy fantasy, romantasy, epic fantasy, space opera? this is my bread and butter, and I love shouting about it from the rooftops with others! ◈ — found families, ot3s, complicated soulmates. I am almost always writing about soulmates who have either killed each other at least once in the past or are planning some sort of murder. Complicated relationships, especially found families that aren't all rainbows and butterflies, are right up my alley. ◈ — queer and trans protagonists, large queer casts! all of my wips feature trans/nonbinary leads, and I'm always looking for more queer writer friends to connect with! ◈ — hope at the end of the tunnel, but hell to get to. I write stories with hopeful endings, with the sun on the horizon, with the promise that something better might now at long last be on the way. I love seeing characters get put through hell, but I love it even more when they make it to the other side. (if you write tragedy though, please know I will still cry on your doorstep if you'll have me) ◈ — corruption arcs, redemption arcs, sometimes both! Deeply nuanced characters with messy attitudes, and even messier actions. I'm just as equally obsessed with cool worldbuilding as I am with character-driven things, and I will yell about ocs all day, and maybe draw them too >:3 ◈ — big, epic, and sweeping worldbuilding! I am a huge fan of delving into the worldbuilding aspect of my wips. I love building magic systems, cultures, geographies, and more. One of my 2024 projects is doing a worldbuilding experiment blog at some point. I am always down to clown over worldbuilding, whether to sound board or just holler together!

There's a lot more I could say here, but this post can only get so long! Σ(っ °Д °;)っ my dms are always open, and I will follow back most of the time! But just to get all of the basics outta the way:

◈—« here's a quick and dirty rundown of how I work! »—◈

➺ I interact and follow from @calamityeden, so if you see that username, it's just me.✌️I am most active on discord, and if we become friends, you're more than welcome to ask to add me there. ➺ I am open to being tagged in writeblr games! Just know that I am not online all the time, and might be slow to respond to them. 🐌 ➺ My ask box and DMs are open, just please be respectful. I love meeting new writers and talking about projects! I am happy to chat and make new friends. You're always welcome! 💌 ➺ This is a strictly 18+ writeblr. Please DNI with me if you are a minor and respect my boundaries.

🪄You can find my core tags here under my writing and my graphics, as well as writer reminders, game train and catharsis. (❁´◡`❁) And now onto the fun part! My 2024 main project line up!

I have my main four listed here that you'll probably hear me yelling about pretty consistently, but I've also got a lot of other projects rattling around in my brain. So if you're ever curious about a project that's not here, feel free to yell at me about it! >:3

Genre: Dark Urban Fantasy Standalone.

Status: First Draft Complete (117k)—Revising for beta round one.

There's a clock tattooed on Nemesis's wrist, and when it reaches midnight on his 21st birthday, it will kill him. It doesn't help that his mom is the one that cursed him, and the demon currently possessing his car ate her before Nemesis could convince her to break the damned thing. Thankfully, Judge came prepared with an alternative: help him break into a mythical living city and steal its heart, and in return, he'll shatter Nemesis's curse for free. Accompanied by a three-headed hellhound, a haunted holy sword, and an excommunicated exorcist, Judge and Nemesis set their sights on an impossible heist. But the closer Nemesis gets to the heart, the more he begins to realize that he isn't the only one under a curse. And if he doesn't find a way to break Judge's soon, his own life will be forfeit as well.

Genre: Space Opera

Status: 2024 zero drafting from scratch

Two hundred years ago, humanity expanded to the stars only to find a cosmos filled with graves. But then their children began displaying the strange ability to commune with the alien ruins scattered across the planets, waking ancient, extrasolar mecha from their sleep, and turned the struggling colonies of space explorers into the fledgling galactic nation of Sol Galatea. Now, Wren Akane is on the run from the whole galaxy, wanted for the strange alien powers throbbing through his veins. His luck runs out when he accidentally awakens an ancient Relic in the desert of his planet, only to be embedded with the memories of its last pilot and the revelation that the war that littered the cosmos with graves is far from over. But no one believes Wren when he tells them that continuing to wake the Relics will bring the hostile alien empire that destroyed them back to Sol Galatea’s doorstep. Only Wren’s rival pilot, Marek Khalid, seems interested in a word Wren has to say. But Marek doesn’t want to save Sol Galatea. He has big plans for what to do when the aliens arrive, a rebellion to lead, and if Wren isn’t on his side, he’s in his way. With time running out, Wren must soon decide how far he’s willing to go to save the people that never tried to save him—or if Marek is right, and he should let the stars burn instead.

Genre: Adult Romantasy

Status: First Draft (1k/100k)

Once a year, Celestials from all across the Lumina Kingdom gather together for Eventide, the season of courtship, hoping to win the hand of the most eligible star at court. Sirius knows the game they play all too well: by day, he is the forgettable, miserable daughter of the Lumina Family, least of his seven siblings and wanted only for the royal blood running through his veins. By night, however, Sirius is the Starweaver—the mysterious dressmaker taking the kingdom by storm. Everyone wants to know the identity of the one responsible for elaborate outfits that turn even the quietest Celestial in the room into the star of the show, outshining even Sirius’s luminous sibling, Diana. When the infamous King Beyond Midnight arrives with the intent to wed Diana, Sirius finds his secret in jeopardy when the condition for their hand in marriage is a simple challenge: reveal the Starweaver's true identity. There’s no outsmarting Octavian for long, and soon, Sirius will have to make a choice: give up on his passion and stay hidden forever, or risk everything to stay true to who he really is.

Genre: Second World Urban Fantasy

Status: Outlining

Something changes the day that Nakano Touya returns to the crumbling city of Soma Lux. It starts with voices in the radio static, blurry figures caught on camera, always out of focus. When a monster crawls out of Touya's television screen and eats him, the last thing he expects is to find a strange, shadowy otherworld lurking on the other side. But his biggest problem isn't the monsters of the otherworld that want to eat him, or the talking cat that saved him, now living in his apartment without a care in sight. Soma Lux is experiencing a strange new epidemic—one that Touya is completely unaffected by. But when his half-sister falls comatose, Touya knows he has to get to the bottom of it all to save her—and find out why he's the only one immune. Accompanied by his jaded ex-boyfriend, Touya’s nosy classmates, a part-time fortune teller, and a cantankerous old hag, Touya dives into the murky underbelly of Soma Lux, where the realities have begun to bleed together between his world and the next.

That's all for now! >:3 Here's to an amazing 2024! (also my actual blog is a mess right now please do not mind it ksjndfskfn)

#writeblr intro #writing community #writeblr #my writing #my graphics #hey all hehe i just decided i'll probs do a fresh one of these every year to make sure i can pin an accurate wip list to the top #especially as i change wips from year to year!#i mostly am on discord #but i want to be able to meet new writer friends here too especially as the community grows!#seriously feel free to holler anytime #i'm usually around somewhere :3

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