#but I stay out of their ''fandom'' spaces for fandom activities. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morallyinept · 1 month

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For anyone who needs to hear this today...

Dieter and I are just weighing in on some of the conversations floating around where people are feeling like they're not wanted here, or who feel like they might want to leave...

You ARE absolutely wanted here.

Whether you're a creator, reader, silent lurker. It doesn't matter if you have 1 follower or 10k. Whether you write one chapter every few weeks, or churn out fics on the daily.

This is a fandom, not a competition.

You. Are. All. Wanted. Here.

Tumblr, for want of a better analogy, is a crap factory of a website. 😝 It's gone down the pan in the last decade massively, and it's the complete opposite of what other social media platforms do, (in terms of likes and algorithims etc... you have to re-blog everything - not like it - here to get any traction) you get out of Tumblr what you put in, effectively.

No-one here is better than anyone else, we're all part of that big Pedro table and continuously squish up to make room for everyone. And if anyone isn't doing that, then they should be the one's to leave, not you.

I get it. I feel it too. I've contemplated leaving several times. Yeah. It's a hard place sometimes to try and make a tiny space of it your own.

☝🏻But remember, even the biggest blogs on here started off with zero followers and had to build their niche from scratch. Rome wasn't built in a day.

It takes time and effort. It might look like it's easy for others, but it really isn't. And I'm in no way a "big blog" in the slightest.

But I stay here doing my own thing, because ultimately, I love writing and creating - it makes me happy, and I love the sense of community here.

I get immense joy out of making my silly banners and posts, and having a giggle with like-minded people when Pedro shaves his beard off (🫠). I ignore the drama and focus on having a positive time here.

But I get that doesn't work for everybody. Sometimes it's hard to tune all the fuzz out, right? It's massively overwhelming some days on here - I feel ya, bub.

The level of talent in this fandom is incredible, but it often leaves you feeling like "where do I begin?" Or "who do I talk to?" And "how do I talk to someone without coming across as weird?" And "how the hell do I re-blog everything and reply to comments and remember to answer DM's and Asks, whilst remembering to update my WIP and see what my fav blogs have posted, and catch up on that fic I like..? 🤯

In short, you can't.

You simply can't do everything.

And you shouldn't try to either as that's when you'll burn out and when things start feeling overwhelming. Then your enjoyment wanes and then that's when you feel like you want to give it all in.

Just breathe.

The best advice I can give (and I'm no expert!) is to curate your own experience here as best as you can.

Eliminate that overwhelming feeling to make your Tumblr time and space enjoyable.

Make it work for you and your needs.

Some easy things you can do that might help:

Update your notifications - I personally filter out the likes, otherwise I find I miss notifs like new followers or comments etc... Tumblr can be glitchy as hell too, so by removing the likes, you can see all the stuff you don't wanna miss. To turn them off, go into your activity (app version) and hit custom, scroll down to custom again and then untick likes:

There's a new option now to subscribe to specific blogs you like and adjust your home feed settings to that. You click on the blogs themselves and add them to get notifications and then they'll appear under Blog Subs on your feed. You can then switch through feeds to just see the blogs you've added, rather than everyone you follow. It's then easy to switch between feeds:

Limit your time here - if it starts to feel overwhelming, take a break! That's your brain telling you that you might need it. We'll all still be here when you come back. Don't compromise your peace of mind or happiness for the sake of scrolling for hours.

If you're a creator and have writer's block etc... again, take that break! Whether it's a day or a week, or a year. Take as long as you need. Those that are worth it will still be here and will wait patiently for you. Don't put unnecessary pressure on yourself. And if anyone does pressure you, block them.

Forget the numbers. I know, I know, it's easier said than done. Of course we want re-blogs and engagement, it's why we're here and putting our work out there. We wouldn't do it if we didn't want that engagement. But don't let the numbers be the main reason why you do it, otherwise your expectation can often be met with a harsh reality when it doesn't go how you think it will. Do it because it makes you happy, first and foremost. There will always be someone who looks forward to what you put out there.

If you want engagement, you need to engage back. This community survives and thrives on sharing. Re-blog everything you like. Re-blogging is the number one must on Tumblr. It's how the site works. Likes are lovely, but it's simply just a book marking feature here, which is essentially useless as your likes get pushed to the bottom of your like pile the more you like things. RE-BLOG EVERYTHING. By re-blogging you can also use tags so you can easily find things again. Liked that Frankie Morales fic you read last week? Re-blog it with the tag 'Frankie Morales' for example, and then you can search your own blog to find everything you've ever tagged with 'Frankie Morales'. You can even schedule re-blogs in advance too. You can't do any of that with likes. You'd have to scroll through every single like you've ever liked to find it again... and ain't no-one got time for that. If you're someone who is asking for engagement, you need to be prepared to give it back. I repeat, RE-BLOG EVERYTHING!

"Yeah, but if I re-blog everything, my aesthetic will be compromised, or my blog will be bulky and I might annoy everyone by appearing on their feed too much..." These are all valid concerns, but you can simply make a side blog specific for re-blogging things if you want. Whatever way you choose to do it, re-blog, re-blog, re-blog!

Be bold and reach out using DM's and ASK's. I don' think there's a single writer or artist out there who doesn't like getting a comment or a message complimenting their work. And we all love to chat about it, and that's an easy way in and to make friends too! It can be daunting, but I assure you if you're polite and kind, people will want to engage back with you. We all have one thing in common here at least - Pedro! 🥰

Sometimes, it can feel like everyone has their own friend groups or cliques and it can be hard to find your own community within a community. Almost everyone I engage with on a daily basis here, new and old users, are some of the nicest, kindest people I've spoken to. You really have nothing to be afraid of. They're just like you - they want to talk and make friends.

These are just some tips that I've found have worked for me on my own Tumblr journey with quelling that overwhelming feeling. And I hope they can help you in some way, especially if you're contemplating being here right now.

You might feel that what you put out there isn't appreciated because it doesn't get the notes or engagement you want, but I promise you, there is always someone who you have touched with your words and work.

Be kind to yourself and know that you really are a valued part of this fandom.

🖤

YOU. ARE. STRONGER. THAN. YOU. THINK. 🖤

Do you. Then do Dieter.

Self-Care With Dieter & Jett

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #self care with dieter & jett #dieter bravo #you are stronger than you think #do you #then do dieter

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yandere-sins · 11 months

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The Orcas' Tale - Chapter I

Excited to finally start! I haven't written in a while so I felt a little rusty, but I still hope I was able to convey the conflicting feelings that come with meeting these creatures ♥ Enjoy! (Please remember that the polls are only active for a day!)

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Orca Mermen x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Monsters, Violence & Accidental self-harm, Non-consensual touches, Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death/non-con/killing of animals/near drowning, Long post

"In fact, you don't want them to think about you at all! Otherwise —ey w—t l— —u ——!"

Straining yourself, you tried to hear what the voice was telling you. A sudden waft of nausea overcame you as you concentrated hard on making out those last, vital words. Your eyes snapped open as pressure squeezed your brain inside your skull, and you barely had time to gasp as your body instinctively threw itself to the side, choking and spitting out water from your lungs and stomach.

Through your blurry vision, you could only see gray. Feeling hadn't returned to your hands to notice the little gravel digging into your palm as you clawed at the stone surface, trying to find hold in your disorientation. Slowly, with every cough you made, the pressure on your head subsided, leaving only a pounding headache and your fight or flight instinct in control of your body while you freed yourself of the wretched water inside the spaces it didn't belong. That was until you finally regained the feeling in your body. The pebbles pressing into your skin, threatening to break it.

The hands on your body, holding you steady.

"This was a stupid idea," an eerily familiar voice sighed, the pressure on your stomach and lower back intensifying. Confused and disorientated, you rocked your head from side to side, trying to see. Trying to find the voice that was different from the one you heard before opening your eyes. But your vision was still blurry, and you couldn't make out anything, even with splashes of color passing your view.

"It's not stupid just because we have never tried it before," someone else, someone you already knew, hissed, and you tried to remember who it was to no avail. A hand on your collarbones, fingers spreading all over your chest, didn't lock your movements but didn't allow you to fall over either, as they kept you slightly elevated.

"W-Who…" you sputtered, followed by another cough, another spill of water coming from who-knows-where inside you.

"Urgh, well, it's alive, at least…"

Pressure on your ribs made you fall back on your legs, sitting upright. You were swaying back and forth, worse than you ever had on the ship that transported you out on the North Pacific Ocean for your studies… Right… You'd been working out on the ocean, and then something happened. You couldn't get back to the boat, and they didn't do a headcount before leaving. You'd been left there. For how long? Gulping down spit or water—not sure what was in your mouth at that point—you tried to remember, but your memory was as blurred as your vision.

Did your crew come back? Were they the ones helping you back to your feet? You should thank them. Had they left you at the mercy of the ocean, who knows if you could have made it long. As much as you loved the deep, blue waters, they were just as risky and unpredictable as any other nature-related job. Accidents happened, and you weren't mad you were left behind, but you were still thankful they came back and saved you.

Slowly, taking the time to adjust yourself, you turned around, the hands allowing you the room to move as you pleased while they stayed ready on standby if you fell. Focusing your eyes was still hard. The space you were in dimly lit and unfamiliar. But when you lifted your head, squinting your eyes as hard as possible, you could finally concentrate on what was ahead of you.

Instantly, a cold shiver ran down your spine.

Your fight or flight mode was still intact as you jumped back from your position, your body slamming into a cold and hard wall of something, your headache briefly making space for other pain before returning full force. You didn't know what to expect, but you expected the familiarity of your kind. Human faces, human bodies, humans.

These were not humans.

It needed the extra blow to your head to jump-start your memories. Memories of the little orange boat you had been stranded on, of unknown voices speaking to you, promising the help you desperately needed. Uncanny figures that intrigued you and eventually lured you to the edge, claws that dug into your clothes as they pulled you where the light couldn't reach. A tongue down your throat that helped you breathe and then… darkness.

That's right, at the cusp between life and death, you had simply passed out, completely at the mercy of these creatures that now reared out of the water, hands and claws reaching for you from all sides. There was no escaping them, no way out, their black skin glistening in the blue light coming from the walls being the only thing discerning them from the shadows around you. All you could do was close your eyes and wish to wake up. Realize this was a bad dream on a dreadful night. Wake up from it, realizing you left the TV on when you fell asleep, subconsciously listening to horror movies. None of this was real.

But when the hands wrapped around your ankles, wrists, and shoulders, claws too close to your throat to not fear them slicing it open, webbed fingers both sticky and slick, you realized this was not a dream you could wake up from. Not a nightmare to banish once you opened your eyes again. This was reality.

It took you a moment to regain this clarity of mind, the hands lifting you away from the hard surface you had slammed into and setting you down on something soft, the fabric almost slippery. They wouldn't let go until you opened your eyes, staring at your left hand as you let it slide through the fur beneath you, knowing the feeling well enough to discern it. "Seal…" you muttered, the softness of it astonishing you at that moment. All the horrors your mind could imagine disappeared with the gentleness and warmth you felt around you, sitting on such precious fur. It soothed some of the shock and weariness that kept you tense and on alert.

"The human likes it," someone cooed, the voice giddy as you heard water splashing alongside it. That finally snapped you back to reality and the situation you were in. Gulping once again, at least there was no more water clogging your throat and airways. Realizing that helped to gain the courage to look up, straight ahead at curious eyes watching you, leaning on the ledge you were seated on, giant bodies hidden halfway inside a pool of water. Every jolt of their muscles caused a small wave to splash against the others next to them, but they didn't mind. Why would they?

Mermaids.

You remembered it now all too clearly—their voices, faces, actions. Knowing folklore tales as much as any other human but always denying them to your scientifically driven mind, it was almost laughable you fell for their lures, their promises of help. It was true your options were limited, but it felt like you betrayed yourself by still believing them. Then again, that was the whole thing about mermaids, wasn't it? They were able to lure in even the most experienced and resistant of humans at their whim, to kill and eat them. However, dwelling on your idiocy and not concentrating on the situation at hand wasn't going to help you now, either.

Watching them for a few seconds, you jumped from their faces one after the other. Orcas, they called themselves, and strangely enough, they looked like it. Like a weird mix of a human and an orca, but you could still see both parts in them and discern either part at a glance. The markings in black and white of an orca, the face and body like a human. Muscles just like a professional athlete, but a tail hidden from sight that you were sure would be exactly like that of an orca. They were decorated in adornments that allowed one to believe they had the same aesthetic needs as humans. Still, their sharp teeth lurked behind their lips, and their fingers ended in claws that reminded you there was just as much animal in this mix.

Looking away was dangerous but necessary, and luckily, as your gaze panned around the room, they only ever seemed to lean further over the edge, trying to see what you saw, before sinking deeper into the cool water again, wary of your gaze falling on them. Either way, you appreciated their discretion, despite hearing their little clicks and whistles at each other echoing through the space. It wasn't a small room, cave-like and branching off into more carved-out areas filled to the brim with things. But if you remembered the size of these creatures right, they'd have to squeeze together if they all wanted to come sit on the same ledge as you. You found the room to be made of hard, solid stone, a blue, bioluminescent shine of a climbing plant with little bulbous blooms on it, illuminating the cave sparsely as it spread on the cave walls. Part of you would have loved to study this growth, but it wasn't the right time.

Beneath you was the seal fur, and you tried to ignore the gruesome acts you knew orcas did to these creatures, thanking it silently for softening the spot you sat on. But now that you had time to look at the splashes of color from before, you noticed they were fabrics hung from the walls. Sails and flags mingled with more furs. Crates, both wood and metal, some more decayed than others, stood off to the side, but you also spotted some out-of-place items like golden goblets and jewels strewn about.

"Where… Where are we?" you asked warily, feeling a sense of dread as you couldn't find a discernable exit or connection to the outside, like a window or door. You had a bad feeling about this, but at this point, it came as no surprise that this situation didn't seem to get better even after you accepted this as reality.

"In our–"

"Home!"

"This is our cave!"

It was a desynchronized answer, but it did the trick. Though that didn't explain where exactly you were, just their connection to this place. Still, scanning the ledge you sat on, you found three sections laid out with fabrics and furs, the stone ground creating gaps between them. Considering the size of these creatures, it might be a squeeze for all of them to fit, but it did look like the three had their beds laid out.

The sound of excessive splashing made your head whip forward, the merman in the middle lifting himself out of the water and on top of the ledge. It was the first good look you got at any of their bodies, and you had been correct with all your assumptions about them. He had to crawl on his hands to get the massive part of his upper tail over the edge, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, it looked almost like a natural movement as he put himself in a seated position. You were already cowering backwards, not needing to accommodate the creature, but feeling less safe now that it was out of the water.

But before you knew it, his hand reached for your ankle.

The feeling of having to cave in to someone else's demands was terrifying, choking you with fear of the unknown especially considering it was a monster you were dealing with. But even without you trying to scoot away, your leg was painfully stretched as the merman began pulling you back closer toward him. "Are you feeling better now?" he asked. You were surprised about the concern he voiced, thinking about how contradictory it was to be given kind thoughts while you felt like prey in their eyes.

"Yeah…" you mumbled, twisting your ankle carefully, inconspicuously, hoping he might be enticed to let go. Instead, this seemed to have been the magic word, the orca on the right jumping out of the water with much more force and less elegance than the one in the middle, landing belly down on the ledge and immediately reaching for your arm. "Finally!" he rejoiced, squeezing and pulling at your underarm, both actions reckless and painful. Now you had two limbs of yours being yanked, and the gaze you shot the last merman of the three was almost panicked as he sat up on the ledge as well, back facing you, but his eyes on your free left leg. With a careful hand, he let his fingers graze over your skin, jolting away as goosebumps spread in the wake of his touch.

Their hands were a horror in themselves. Webbed fingers sticking to you and yet sliding up and down your skin, unable to find hold unless pressure was applied. These creatures had no sense of gentleness, probably used to very different forms of touches and holding than a soft, easily breakable human like you needed. Their curiosity was their drive, but it made you feel sick the longer their touch remained. Occasionally, they'd coo or chortle in awe while all you could concentrate on was trying to soothe the sore muscles inside you by adjusting and twisting your body to accommodate their hands.

Even though you were intimidated by just looking at them, fear clawing at you almost as much as their hands did, you decided enough was enough. While they were stronger than you, you had the advantage of knowledge. If they were any bit as much orca as they said they were, they probably had the attitude of their animal counterpart, making them believe they were above everything. But they weren't above the element of surprise.

So when you were sure they were mesmerized by your meager body compared to theirs—the third merman even back to prodding at your leg after being startled by the goosebumps—you took a deep breath and then pulled. Pulled as hard and fast as you could, very much aware that if they weren't sufficiently distracted, their reflexes would probably have dismembered you. Luckily, you were able to get away even as their claws snapped after you, your eyes meeting that of the middle merman briefly as you scrambled to your feet, backing away until you found a wall to steady you. Your knees were shaking, but after a few milliseconds, the merman suddenly gripped a shoulder of each of the ones next to him, his claws visibly digging into their bodies. The others snapped out of their reflex just barely after the middle one, looking at him instead.

"No fun," the one on the right groaned, sinking back into the pool of water. "What good is it if we can't play with it?"

His eyes appraised you briefly, a displeased expression weaved onto his face, turning into a snarl when you met his gaze. "I thought you found us interesting, no?"

Lifting his tail fin out of the water, he waved it back and forth, but contrary to what you remembered, no tracker was punched into it; only a gaping hole remained. And yet, you immediately understood what he was trying to say. This was way worse than you thought, as you realized they used their leverage of maybe being able to tell you how to get back to land to make you do what they wanted, no matter what that meant for you.

"Don't you want to go home?" the merman teased, a smug grin revealing the rows of sharp teeth behind his lips and confirming your realization. It was terrifying but even more so frustrating. Swallowing hard, you tried to find some reasons with the other two, but while one had now fully turned his back to you, the other seemed just as displeased as the one in the water.

"Maybe we should just eat them," the one in the middle pouted. Your mouth almost fell open seeing this creature actively avoiding your eyes, crossing his arms, and pursing his lips in a pout. All just because you refused whatever they were trying to do? How could they not understand that their actions might be wrong? You had never seen a grown man pout in your life, but you couldn't decide if it was worse on this creature or on a man of your own kind.

"What do you think, Nerrocan?"

For the first time ever since you met them, you heard one of them being addressed directly. The merman in the middle looked at the one who sat with his back to you, and you took a moment to appraise his form. Broad shoulders, coated with black hairs that reached below the shoulder blades but did nothing to hide the monstrous amount of muscles weaving under his skin. A dorsal fin stuck out from where his human spine must have transitioned to the fish one, and you caught yourself almost reaching out to touch it, confirming the strangeness of this lifeform. It was curiosity more than a reflex, but both were dangerous down here, locked with these strange creatures.

"Nerrocan…" you whispered, the word slipping out before you could stop. Their white ears perked up, glances snapping to you from the corners of their eyes and over their shoulders. They seemed less alert than surprised, but you clasped your hand over your mouth anyway, feeling as if you were the rude one for speaking so casually to someone you didn't know. Slightly embarrassed, you caught Nerrocan's gaze, looking away before he could, but you scolded yourself for the mishap, missing the shine he had in his eyes as you called out to him.

You expected some reaction. Cruelty packed into words by Nerrocan that would give the other two the 'go' to do what they planned with you. Or maybe a verbal lashing for daring to speak to him. Perhaps even some hope as he held the other's back, making the unknown threat you felt from them disappear. From the looks of it, he was just as fearsome as the others but showed less interest in you than his fellow mermen. It was hard to understand how different lifeforms thought, but you had still hoped to be able to communicate with them on the same level as with any other sane human being, even just for the sake of the similarities between you two. But you were wrong.

Nerrocan said nothing. He merely shrugged his shoulders slightly, barely visible in the dark. More than half of his body was coated black, so it was no surprise you couldn't see it move much, only when the blue light shone on it. However, you did catch the glance he threw back over his shoulder at you, and you wondered if he understood the devastation you felt visibly on your face. All hope shattered.

"Nerrocan, you're so fucking boring. Can't you go along with what we want to do just once?" the merman on the right complained, his words a sharp sound, somewhere between hissing and lilting.

"Shut up, Lyr," the one in the middle ordered, and for a moment, you could see the merman named Lyr snap his teeth at him like a beast warning another. However, when the middle one lifted his hand—presumably to hit the one on the right— Lyr scooted away and out of reach. Before you knew it, Nerrocan vanished in the water, and you watched as Lyr scanned the pool below him before hissing and slipping out of sight. You had a feeling that something must have been going on that you couldn't see, but you knew better as to go and look where they had gone.

Especially with one still remaining.

The merman took a deep breath, breathing out before giving you a—what you could assume was meant as a mood-lifting but came out as a terrifying, mocking—smile. "Look, we don't want to eat you. But we hoped you were a bit more… fun."

"I don't even know what that is supposed to mean…" you mumbled, pressing yourself more to the wall as the merman sighed, scooting a bit higher on the ledge and closer to you.

"Look around you," he directed your attention, gesturing around the cave. "We brought you into our home and made sure you'd survive the dive. Don't you think you owe us something?"

"I didn't ask you–"

"Well, you would have died up there, you know that, right?" His interruption felt like a cold splash of water to your face, but his words hit you even harder. They sat in your stomach like a big stone. One that would sink you if you were left alone in the ocean rather than help you swim. Being demotivated was one thing. But at this point, you were pretty much helpless. You would have died without them but with them… there was no guarantee you would survive these guys, either.

"Look."

Raising his hands, the merman tried to ease your fear of him—in vain. With a small hopping motion, he elevated himself further towards you, and you, with no place to back up anymore, held your breath.

"We know humans. You guys are curious and want to know more about us. All of you are. You are always prodding in our territories, trying to find us, and when you do… well. You do this."

Lifting his tail fin out of the water, he waved it back and forth, curling it enough so you could see the red blinking light coming from it. The tracker. You definitely didn't just imagine its existence, and slowly, you let out the breath you were holding, looking him in the eyes. This was more of a conversation than you ever had with any of these guys, and you decided to face it.

"Humans aren't even that tasty," he noted, assuming your weariness was rooted there. He wasn't entirely wrong.

"Then what do you want from me."

His grin spread a bit wider at your questions, his eyes sparkling with the knowledge he got you, like a fish drawn to a hook. Inching closer, you barely had time to shift your attention to the two heads that popped out of the water behind him, exchanging glances before directing their focus on you. "You see, we saw humans before. Cute ones—like you! But none would let us explore them a bit. We are oh-so curious about those things you stand on. About your tiny parts and soft body. You're so…"

"Human," you finished his sentence, goosebumps spreading all over your body as you exposed yourself, unwillingly aware of your weakness being your very existence. The merman scanned you with his eyes, almost undressing you with how intensely his gaze burned on your skin. It was an unnerving feeling, one of mutual understanding of how different you were. Weak. Vulnerable. Powerless. Them even communicating their plans was their form of showing mercy. Because if they wanted, they could have easily forced you into it as well.

"Yes," he chortled, seemingly content with you understanding their desire. You couldn't imagine that this was all they'd ask of you, a memory of the voice you heard before waking up in this cave returning to you.

It hasn't been that long since another tribe—who was it? The sharks?—had been… blessed with an unusual mate.

You wanted to suppress the implications echoing in these words, hoping and wishing this wasn't what these orcas intended to do with you. You couldn't fear something that hadn't happened yet, or else you might lose the last bit of rationality in you that would get you out of this situation, no matter how much anxiety tried to paint the gruesome pictures of possibilities. But you needed to know. Needed to hear it from them, even if the promise was empty. If you wanted to build any kind of trust, this would be necessary, even if the betrayal would hurt twice as much.

"If I agree will you take me back? Back to this place you know, where I can return to my kind? Promise you won't kill me?"

Nerrocan was the first to return to the ledge after disappearing so abruptly. You hadn't noticed it at first, but when he looked at you, his gaze shifting to your legs for a few seconds before looking back up at you, you noticed the split lip he now had, blood trickling from it as the blue light grazed him. "Promise," he answered for the three of them, gaining a sharp glare from the other two. Lyr, too, came back up on the ledge, merely resting his upper body on the stone and propping himself up with his arm.

"Aren't you gonna say something when he's undermining you, Krill?" he asked the merman in the middle, and now, finally, you had names for all three of their faces.

"He won't do it again. Right, Nerrocan?"

The spoken to let out a huff, but when Krill took a deep breath, Nerrocan opened his mouth, submitting as told, "Of course, Krill."

"Well, now that this is out of the way, shall we begin?" Krill asked, his gaze sticking to Nerrocan for just a moment longer before returning to you. Putting on a calculated smile for you—as if he was trying to imitate human behavior—all you felt was another shiver running down your spine. You braced yourself, getting a grip on your shaking hands by curling them into fists. The faster this was over, the quicker you'd find out if they'd keep their promise. The faster you'd be able to get home and sort out this mess your life was in.

"Okay…" you whispered. Once again, your word seemed to be the one they had waited for, all of them leaping forward, closing in as you let out a surprised squeak. "Stop!" you yelled, shielding your face with your arms and trying to hide behind them out of fear of the approaching predators. To your surprise, the sound of splashing water and bodies moving ceased. When you pried your eyes open, the mermen had stilled, their muscles barely flinching under the intense tension running through them. Their expression was grim, worse than before, seemingly unimpressed with your reluctance after you gave them the go. It seemed their patience was running thin, but what else were you supposed to do?

"Not all at once… please?" you tried to explain yourself, their bodies remaining still for a moment. Lyr was the first to break the silence, groaning loudly in annoyance as he slipped back. Nerrocan said nothing, merely pulling his hands back to his side. He had come the closest to you—especially your legs—and even Krill put some distance between you two, sighing loudly before driving his hands through his short hair.

"Choose then," he ordered, and there was no hint of teasing or playfulness left in his voice. His eyes remained wide open, staring as he waited for your answer, his body so tense you were scared he might pop a vein. Krill seemed to be the least amused about all of this, but the dirty looks of the other two were just as chilling and pressuring. "Choose who you want to "play" with first, then."

It was an amicable choice that seemed challenging for the three, but they made it your choice nonetheless. Your eyes dragged over all their faces. Nerrocan, the quiet one of them, who seemed very interested in your legs and not much else. Lyr, who was already back to grinning, his casualness paired with the intensity of his gaze drilling into you, making him seem a little unhinged. And Krill, whose word seemed to stand above the others, but whose words could never make him trustworthy to you.

You had to choose one before their patience with you would finally run out.

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night-raven-tattler · 1 month

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Silence = neutrality/complicity, and I don't want to be silent.

Recently some people have been calling out a certain creator from the twst x reader side of the fandom that has been spreading zionist posts, dangerous sentiments and a heavy load of misinformation. The creator is @/marilynfuse and I am only sharing their blog name for everyone to block and report all of their platforms. Do NOT engage with this person, and do NOT harass this person. It's clear they don't listen to whatever you say and they thrive off of your attention. Do not give them that satisfaction, just report and move on. Their blog is still active despite not showing up when looked up.

I am a writer, but before that I am a person who does not endorse any kind of hatred or neutrality in the face of injustice. With that being said, I want no type of queerphobe, racist, islamophobe, antisemite, zionist, supporter of apartheid, denier or shamer interacting with my blog.

To be perfectly clear: Palestine, Congo, Sudan, Yemen, Syria, Haiti deserve to be free.

My goal is to invite everyone on any side to do their own research and see with their own eyes who they need to support, without thinking about the misinformation that has been going around for so long. Try to see beyond the propaganda and wake up to the reality we're facing.

I am gonna do what I think is best and share some sources I've found useful for Palestine (source 1, source 2, source 3), Congo (source 1, source 2), Sudan (source 1, source 2), Yemen (source 1, source 2), Syria (source 1, source 2) and Haiti (source 1). I'm trying to be as objective as I can be, but keep in mind being objective =/= being neutral. Being neutral leaves enough space for people to perpetuate misinformation, which is something I'm not going to do.

Educate yourselves. Talk about the people in need. Don't stay silent until the genocide and the wars stop and stay loud enough that people can still hear you even after you're pushed off the stage. If you want to educate other people, share resources and correct them, and don't engage with people who don't see reason. Block, report, use that energy and anger on sharing more resources to the people who are open to change.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader

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borderlinebelle · 3 months

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Tumblr Live: it’s not that serious. By BorderlineBelle

Literally I met mutuals of 10+ years on tumblr live.

The hatred over tumblr live was over the top and insane… it truly wasn’t that serious.

If you can stand to be thought critiqued, stay. 🙂

Yes, they robbed us of all our personal info, that’s our choice. Basically.. that’s every single app ever. Wake up. Everyone is just choosing their daddy to participate in this society, which exists ONLINE in equal measure.

Ya’ll bend over to SOME cloud daddy collection somewhere.. unless all your family photos hit printer ink 🫨 why is this the hill you were willing to die on?

Tumblr Live was good.

People hung out, did hobbies, met mutuals, discussed old and new tumblr, made new friends, shared art and music and passion and hobbies…

Before the flood of MeetMe folks… (which was awful. as an OG… I get it) .. it was a chill place to hang out.

The active and consistent and LOUD trolls made it so negative and latched on and like the USUAL TUMBLR PIRANHAS… wouldn’t let it GO.

You made a hashtag and shopped it day and night. Like why???

#TurnOffTumblrLive … was wild.

I consider myself part of the few who supported EVERY FANDOM.. kinda 😅. I’ve been on tumblr for my whole life and before that and I try to be a GOOD community member!

I wasn’t actively working for every fandom 😅 but if it was a high holy holiday of your fandom or a meme or a joke that was so popular it circulated into the main highways of tumblr… that needed spreading… I of course let it roll across my dashboard. I reblogged your top chosen artists and musicians, whomever your communities had chosen … we supported. I supported. As a bit of an outliner. A sad girl yadda yadda mentally ill and sexy… screaming into the void at the porn bots 🤷🏽‍♀️ it was a niche trust me… but I did and do participate with positivity even if I didn’t get the joke.

And … YOU ALL… BURIED AND KICKED AROUND tumblr live as if she was a DiLaurentis triplet. 🤧

It was way overboard imo. 🤧💅🏽

Some people used tumblr live for good. 👁️👁️

Then the REALLY determined trolls harassed the poor CEO guy and we ALL KNOW HE’s STRESSED. His hair is thinning. We can see it and ya’ll demand and do too much. i hope to one day sit with the man and say, “you’re doing mostly, kind of .. a fine job.” 👍🏽😬

Tumblr, in general, is one of the few places left on the interweb that maintains the primary basic deliciousness of self expression through the works of others. It remains from LONG AGO.

Don’t fucking ruin the overall umbrella of the tumblr space… with deep… leaving funny and entering disturbing… cynicism.

Remember the LISTEN to OTHER pov’s too. 🤷🏽‍♀️🙂

Real people exist behind the cameras.

That’s all.

I’m glad it’s gone too.

2024 tumblr is gonna be shmexy.

#personal #tumblr live is dead #rip tumblr live #i love tumblr #tumblr live #tumblr drama #tumblr community #tumblr live is dumb #tumblr meta #tumblr update #tumblr ceo #turn off tumblr live #writers on tumblr #tumblr girls #photographers on tumblr #recovery #mental health matters #borderlinebelle #meetme

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five-bi-five-mind · 11 months

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Sin For Me

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Genre: Smut & Angst

Words: 5.3k+

Summary: Wanda doesn’t like feeling threatened. She also doesn’t like when someone tries to take what’s so clearly hers. Lessons needed to be learned to say the least.

Warnings: toxic!Wanda; strap-on use (r receiving); dom!Wanda; sub!reader; magic strap; rough sex; dub-con; jealous!Wanda; cumstrap; is there a breeding kink? I can't tell... Also kind of a dark fic... when I say toxic!Wanda I mean toxic as fuck.

You were seriously pissing her off and you didn’t even know it. Wanda sat back in a dark corner and watched as you laughed and chatted up some random coworker she didn’t care to learn the name of. It was far too late for you to be out, at least without Wanda by your side. After all, you had no idea Wanda had tracked down the exact bar you’d be at. She has been watching your every move for the last hour now and not once has she seen you check her phone. In fact, she watched as you actively ignored another text she sent you.

She definitely didn’t get enough communication from you tonight. After you got off work, all you sent Wanda was a simple text that read: Getting drinks with some work friends tonight. I won’t be late. Except, to Wanda, that was a blatant lie. It has definitely gotten way too late and when there was no answer to her texts or updates on your whereabouts she decided to track you down. What she found she absolutely did not like and her blood was boiling more the longer she waited and watched.

When she got there she was pretty frustrated with you already. It was rare that you would go out without Wanda and when you did it was never something that occurred after dark. Wanda loved that about you, you were a good girl for her without her even having to tell you. Right now she was regretting never being more firm. She should’ve warned you not to cross her, not give her any reasons for worry or suspicion, not to let others get too close to what was hers. Because, of course, you were hers, and she didn’t like that fact to feel threatened.

Wanda knew that you were aware she could be jealous and possessive. You’ve seen it somewhat before, but never in full force. Wanda had a growing feeling that would change tonight. After all, you were currently over there ignoring your phone and chatting up with two coworkers. And that was fine, it hadn’t pushed Wanda’s frustrations too far over the edge yet. But then when one coworker left and you still stayed, that’s when Wanda’s control started slipping. She didn’t like that you were now alone in a bar with a pretty coworker she didn’t really know. A coworker that was currently making you laugh and smile. A coworker that was also slowly inching closer to you and kept touching your leg and your arm and was just overall way too close. Wanda would never allow someone else to act this way towards you if she was near. You should’ve known better and done the same. Wanda was seething.

She didn’t have much of a plan when she reached the bar you were at. So far all she came up with was what she was doing: sit and watch. Maybe you’d calm the storm brewing inside her by finally rejecting the other girl’s clear advances towards you. While she watched, she wondered if you were even aware of it. Did you know this girl wanted to take you home and fuck you the way only Wanda was allowed to? Wanda could see it in her thoughts, the things she wanted to do to you, to what was hers. Wanda’s hatred towards the girl and her anger towards you were growing by the minute. In her mind, you had long passed the opportunity to tell this girl clearly to back off. Yet, you hadn’t done it yet and her hopes to bed you were only increasing. Wanda’s hands were balled into tight fists and her jaw was clenched as she watched the way the girl looked you up and down. She was already thinking about the ways she could get you naked and Wanda was resisting the urge not to commit murder in such a public space.

What she saw next finally made her snap. She wasn’t sure what the girl said to you, but she definitely didn’t like the way she was leaning in your ear and whispering. With that Wanda shot up, rage pumping through her veins. She stalked towards you with determination and when she stopped right in front of you, she didn’t even give you a second to realize it was her before putting her hands on you.

“Wanda!” You were so surprised to see her. “What are you doing here?“

“You’re leaving,” Wanda said as she hauled you up off the bar stool and to your feet. “Right now.”

“Wanda, what- I was just having drinks with-“

“Do not say another fucking word.” Wanda barked and your mouth immediately snapped shut. You’ve seen Wanda angry, possibly even to this degree, but never was it directed towards you.

The grip she had on your arm was bruising as she pulled you out of the bar. You looked back at your coworker who’s eyes were wide in shock at the scene in front of her. You had a feeling you’d have to do a lot of explaining come Monday. Only, you had no idea what got into Wanda. She had come out of nowhere. You were utterly shocked by her actions. Never did you think she’d just show up at the bar to come drag you home. It wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong. Yes, maybe you should’ve checked your phone. You knew she’d be worried, but you also wanted to save what was left of your battery so you could call for an Uber. You thought you were being smart, safe, and practical even.

Yet, here you were, being towed out of the bar by your fuming girlfriend and practically shoved into her car. The slam of the car door behind you made you jump and when Wanda ripped her own door open, you couldn’t help but cower slightly away from her. If Wanda noticed, she didn’t seem phased by the negative reaction she was causing in you. She could care less if she was scaring you. In fact, maybe it was a good thing that she was. Maybe it’ll help you learn your lesson and not pull a stunt like this again.

Wanda peeled out of her parking spot in record speed. She didn’t really care about how fast she was going or how reckless she was being. All she knew was that she was getting more pissed off by the minute. It definitely seemed like you had absolutely no clue why she was so angry. And, well, you really didn’t. Not until you chanced a look at your phone. You had a couple of messages from your coworker and then, scrolling down, you saw the rest. Ten missed calls, almost as many voicemails, and countless numbers of texts all from Wanda. Some of them started out fine, asking if you were okay, where were you, when were coming home… but then there was a shift. The texts got shorter. They were no longer questions, but demands. Wanda might have been worried at first, but now she was enraged. If the texts didn’t indicate as much, you could swear you literally felt it radiating off her. Had you really been at the bar that long? It was late, but it wasn’t like you and Wanda didn’t stay out late having drinks. This was just the first time you had been out so late with coworkers.

Your mind was really trying to connect the dots on why Wanda was currently racing home, utterly silent, yet still quaking in rage. If it were you, you’d just be worried and maybe slightly angry for no call, but still you’d understand. Would she listen if you said you just wanted to make sure you had a functional phone to call an Uber? You thought maybe she was beyond reason at this point. After all, the way she spoke to you and the way she was currently grinding her teeth as she took every turn way too fast was telling you that you were in for it when you got home. So, as she drove, you just focused on getting to the bottom of this and how to fix it. Was she upset that you were with coworkers? Okay, maybe you could see that it kind of looked a little suspicious. You didn’t know how long Wanda was at the bar, for all you knew she had just gotten there and walked up to you the minute she arrived. Did she know that the night started with a large group of you? The only reason the group dwindled to just two was because you were enjoying having a nice conversation after a stressful week of work. Did Wanda really think something else was happening? Surely not, but it was your only working theory.

The rest of the ride was silent, but suffocating. The air was charged and you swore every time you risked a glance at Wanda you could see red swirl in her eyes. It wasn’t the first time you saw her so mad her control of her magic started to slip, you just never imagined you’d be the cause of it. You gulped, your nails digging into your skin where they were resting on your knees. You wanted out of her car, but at the same time you feared the storm that was coming when you finally got out.

Wanda hit the breaks a little too hard when she finally pulled up to her place. You lurched forward and fell back with a thud as she came to a full stop. “Ouch…” you whined as your head hit the back of the seat. “Wanda, come on. Why are you being like this?” Wanda just scoffed at you before swinging the car door open. You watched with dread as she walked around to your side. When she opened your door, she didn’t even give you a second to try to stand for yourself before she had a grip on your elbow and was yet again dragging you wherever she wanted you to go.

It didn’t help that Wanda was so angry her hands were shaking. So, when she went to unlock the door she was fumbling with her keys and cursing not so quietly as she struggled. You touched her hand gently, stopping her from her fight to open the door. You were surprised when she willingly let you take the keys from her and unlock the door. It was a brief moment of softness before she was pushing you through the threshold and slamming the door shut behind the two of you.

Wanda stood by the lock for a moment, her chest heaving as her rage boiled back up again. It still seemed like you barely had a clue why she was angry. Her hands gripped the door knob as she tried, and failed, to take deep, calming breaths before facing you again. Any time she tried to cool herself down, her mind zeroed in on the image of that woman touching you, touching what was hers, and you doing absolutely nothing to stop her. God, that pissed her off. Didn’t you know? How could you not know? No one could touch you now that Wanda has you. She waited patiently for you to fall for her, for you to see her, for you to know that you were only supposed to want her, and now she takes her eyes off you for one second and it’s as if you forgot all about her. Wanda wondered if you were still totally oblivious to the fact that your little friend wanted to fuck you or if you just got off on the fact that someone else wanted you? If Wanda was being logical for a moment she would know you just genuinely had no clue. It was hard for you to see what was right in front of you sometimes. That’s why Wanda was almost always there to make sure you stayed safe, stayed hers. But tonight, Wanda wasn’t being logical. Tonight Wanda was thinking the worst: That you wanted to fuck her too. That you thought you didn’t want Wanda. That you forgot you were hers. And Wanda just couldn’t have that, now could she?

When Wanda turned around, you were ready to get to the bottom of her anger. Honestly, yes, you were scared of Wanda right now, but you were also getting pretty angry too. Wanda essentially embarrassed you and manhandled you until she got you home and she did all of this in front of someone you had a professional relationship with. Yeah, you were going to have to explain to your coworker what went down Monday, but you were also not sure you’d have the guts to face her and tell her… what? That Wanda was having some sort of jealous tantrum? At least that was still your biggest theory that that’s where some of her rage was coming from. You knew Wanda was the jealous type, but this was a whole new level.

“Wanda, seriously,” You sighed as you put your hands on your hips. “What the hell?”

“You can’t see your friend anymore,” Wanda said in a monotone voice as walked up to you.

“What?” Your eyebrows shot up. “Wanda, I work with her. I’m going to have to see her. Plus you can’t just tell me what to-”

“Yes, I can.” Wanda’s eyes darkened, her voice still eerily level. Yet still, with the way she towered over you, you felt very small and outmatched in this moment. But you weren’t one to easily give up a fight and definitely not one to easily be controlled. You loved Wanda, you did, but this was quickly causing some concerns.

“No, Wanda, you absolutely can’t.” You were trying so hard to stand your ground right now. But as you saw the red swirl in her eyes yet again, you couldn’t stop yourself from shuddering. “She’s my friend too, Wanda. I like spending time with her.”

“I really suggest you stop talking before you make things worse for yourself.” Wanda’s tone was foreboding. Your eyes flicked down to her hands and you noticed that they were balled in such tight fists they shook as she clenched them. You were far beyond poking the beast now. You were encountering it face to face.

“Wanda,” Your voice was a little more unsure this time. It was getting incredibly hard to hide how intimidating she was being. Honestly, it was the fact that she wasn’t currently screaming that made it worse for you. It was her silent anger that somehow was more unsettling. “I’m not going to just stop seeing her.”

That was the wrong thing to say. That was the really really fucking wrong thing to say. You could see it in her eyes, in the way her nostrils flared. How dare you so openly disregard what she was telling you? Wanda couldn’t fathom why you’d want to spend even another second with that woman when she could give you all you wanted and more. It was like you forgot everything she’s done for you, everything she’s made you feel, everything she could give you. Wanda was all you needed, not this random girl. So, why? Why did you insist on testing Wanda’s patience so goddamn much? This behavior needed to end.

In a blink Wanda was in your personal space. Her anger had finally boiled over. She grabbed your chin hard, pulling your head back so she could make sure you were looking her in the eye. She leaned in, her nostrils flaring as she practically fumed with rage. “Do I need to remind you,” she squeezed your jaw in her grip as she spoke, “that I own you?”

“Wanda,” you whimpered. “You’re starting to scare me.”

“But you like it don’t you?” She practically purred as she gave you an unsettling grin. “Don’t pretend that you don’t. God,” she sneared, “I’ve tried, I really have. But you make it so fucking hard, don’t you?” Wanda really did try. She didn’t want you to see this side of her, at least not for a much longer time. But you needed to learn and she needed to be sure you wouldn’t ever think to run off with another person. This was your fault really. At least, that’s what Wanda believed. “How am I supposed to hold back when you purposely push my buttons?”

Your hand flew up to Wanda’s wrist, trying to pry her hand off your chin. She was holding your face in a bruising grip and the look in her eye was nerve wracking. “I didn’t mean to.” You tried your best to keep your voice level, but it cracked as you spoke. With Wanda’s grip on you, all you wanted to do now was calm her down. Who knew how far Wanda would go. “I’m sorry, Wanda, I-“

“It’s a little late for apologies, now isn’t it?” Wanda hissed. She released her grip on you and you rubbed at your jaw where her nails had dug in. Wanda, in the meantime, was pacing back and forth in front of you and all it did was add to your uneasiness at her volatile mood.

“H-How can I make it up to you?” You begged. At this point, honestly, you’d agree to everything she asked if it calmed her down. There was a whisper in the back of your mind that strangely grew louder the minute she released you. A whisper that wasn’t there before, that said she might leave. Suddenly, that whisper ensnared you in a new type of fear. Despite Wanda’s aggression towards you, despite your anger at her treatment, a fear crept up your spine at the thought of losing her. She could so easily find someone else and she was, after all, all you wanted for so long. No, you needed to stop protesting, you needed to make things right. Even if you didn’t believe you were at fault.

Your change in tone did actually please Wanda. A satisfied smirk threatened to break out on Wanda’s face, but she wouldn’t drop her anger yet. You weren’t in the clear, and since you were so willing to make it up to Wanda, make it up you would. For a moment, she almost felt bad for you. Poor thing, you had no idea what was in store.

Wanda walked away wordlessly. Your head turned with her movement as she walked across the room and onto her living room couch. Silently, she sat back on the couch, legs spread. And you watched with wide eyes as she popped the buttons of her pants open. With a flick of her wrist, you stared in shock as a bright red, strap-on appeared, peaking out of where her pants were unbuttoned. “Come here. Ride my cock,” she ordered as she sat back. You looked at it for a moment and then back up at her eyes as she waited for you with an annoyed expression on her face, you were assuming it was because of your hesitation. You couldn’t help it. That thing was big. “Well?” Wanda urged impatiently. You gulped and walked forward. Your hands moved to your own pants and you started to fumble with them as you got closer. Wanda’s impatience only grew and with another brief twirl of her fingers, you were suddenly naked from the waist down.

When you reached the couch your movements faltered. The closer you got the bigger it looked. With each step you took closer to her you were trying to picture in your head if that thing could actually fit inside you. You crawled onto her lap at a snail’s pace, nervous to find out if it really could. Still, though, you wanted to please her. The shift in you, that whisper, was even louder. If you could show her that you could be cooperative, maybe that will ease part of your nerves. Maybe it would be the fix for both of you. She wouldn’t be as angry, you wouldn’t be as insecure. You could show her that you could be good, that you did love her and would listen. In return, maybe she’d ease your mind and show you that you’re not easily replaceable, that she loved you too. She must if she was so angry about you having drinks alone with a friend. Right?

Straddling her waist finally, you put your hands on either of her shoulders to steady yourself. With great caution you lifted yourself up slightly, lining up the toy with your entrance. You took a deep breath and slowly eased yourself down. It wasn’t easy, this was bigger than you’ve taken before and as you slowly slid down you felt the slight burn of your walls being stretched around Wanda’s faux cock. On Wanda’s end it was driving her crazy to watch you do this. Your hesitation and nervousness only spurred her on more. Despite how angry she was, she couldn’t help but appreciate how good you were being for her already. This shift in you definitely didn’t go unnoticed to her. You slid further down on her cock and all Wanda could think was that you just felt so good. She was getting impatient to feel herself all the way inside you though. So, to fix this, without warning, Wanda grabbed your hips and pushed you all the way down.

You immediately grabbed fistfuls of her shirt, crying out as you felt her enter you completely. Wanda couldn’t stop the low moan that fell from her lips as she held you still down on her cock. “Fuck, you’re tight,” she groaned. “Come on, move your hips.”

“It- It’s big, Wanda,” you whined.

“You can take it,” Wanda hissed, her hands on your hips urging you to start grinding down on top of her. “I know you can.” You didn’t think you had much choice. Wanda already seemed drunk on the feeling of your walls squeezing around her cock. This wasn’t the first time Wanda used magic to get off while inside you and you knew she was doing it now. If you were being honest, the way she made your walls stretch, mixed with Wanda’s expressive reactions was turning you on more and soon enough you were starting to bounce on her lap to fuck yourself on her cock. Any residual thoughts of defiance and shame finally leaving your mind as you felt the burn of her cock stretching you out turn into mind blowing pleasure.

At some point, you weren’t sure when, Wanda had taken full control. It was no longer on your own volition that your hips were moving, it was Wanda’s powerful grip on them that had you grinding hard into her cock as she fucked up into you. With the way your hips were moving and how tight you were around her, Wanda’s head fell back, lost in how good it all felt. You were being so good, she thought. Finally, this is exactly what she needed from you. As you practically let her use you as a fucktoy, mindlessly moaning on top of her as she got off, she knew she had you now. There was no way you’d forget who you belonged to when Wanda was fucking her cock up into you, two seconds away from coming and painting your pussy with her cum.

When Wanda forced you to speed up on top of her she couldn’t hold back much more. Her moans were matching yours as they filled the otherwise silent house. Your hands were holding on so tightly to her shoulders as you tried your best to keep up with the pace Wanda was making you set. Your walls were tightening around Wanda so deliciously and she knew you were close to the edge too. Wanda shot up suddenly, one of her arms wrapping around your waist so she could hold you steady while she fucked up into you with a brutal strength you honestly didn’t know she had. It took only a few seconds of this before you felt Wanda finally fall over the edge, filling you up with her warm cum that immediately had you follow behind her.

Your body slumped onto her, your head pressed to her chest as you tried to catch your breath. You could feel the burn in the muscles of your thighs from the way she had fucked you. You felt sore, you felt tired, but Wanda on the other hand was not done. Her chest suddenly swelled with a feeling of pride and possession as she felt a mixture of her cum and yours drip from your entrance and onto her. It was working her up yet again and she decided she wasn’t done with you just yet. After all, she had to thoroughly make sure you knew who you belonged to, didn’t she?

Without warning, without any word, Wanda had swiftly maneuvered you so that your back hit the couch and she was now the one on top of you. Sitting back on her knees for a moment she looked down at you, a hungry look in her eye. She decided she needed to feel all of you, so with a flick of the wrist suddenly the remainder of your clothes, as well as her own, were gone. Then she leaned down, dragging her body across yours as she went. Her knees rested next to both sides of your hips and her hands were planted next to either side of your head. You were completely pinned in by her.

Wanda paused, humming as she moved one hand to slowly drag her nails down your body. You looked so vulnerable like this, naked beneath her. You really were all hers and she knew, as she slid her cock back inside you, that nothing would ever threaten that again. She wouldn’t let it.

She didn’t take long to pick up a fast pace again. Not that you minded, your whole body felt like it was on fire, but in the most satisfying way. All your senses were filled with her, your head swam with thoughts of her and only her. It didn’t take long before Wanda’s full weight was pressed against you, her head buried in your neck as she pumped into you. Her hands, now free from holding herself above you, moved to your legs, sliding down behind your knees. With her hold on you there, she spread you open more. Her hands moved to hook both your legs over her waist so her cock could pump inside you even deeper. It had your head swimming.

“I’m going to fill you with my cum again,” She groaned as her pace picked up. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You love when I cum inside you. You need my cum, don’t you? Say it.” Her hips were slamming into yours, the sound of skin against skin echoing throughout the room. At this point the thought of forming a coherent sentence seemed almost impossible. Wanda let go of one of your legs, reaching up to grab your chin. She pulled back just enough to see your face and, to your displeasure, her pace started to slow. You whined in protest, but her hand squeezed hard. “Say it.”

“I- Wanda,” you whined, trying your hardest to please her. “I need your cum. I- I love when you fill me with it.” Any other day you’d be more hesitant to talk like that with Wanda. The way she was talking, the way she was making you talk, it was all very new for you. You were seeing so many new sides of Wanda tonight, but as her hips picked their pace back up and her faux cock continued to hit just the right spot inside you, you were started to think you didn’t mind this kind of possessiveness. Not when it felt like she was claiming your entire body. Not when you so desperately wanted to feel her cum inside you again.

Wanda was almost as gone as you were though. The way you whined and took her cock was enthralling to her. When you finally did as you were told, the pathetic whimper in your voice as you spoke, it had Wanda totally high off the way you felt, how you sounded, and the way you looked underneath her. “Your pussy feels so good,” she growled into your ear before letting go of your chin. Your head fell back onto the couch as her pace disoriented you. “It’s like it was made for me. It belongs to me. You belong to me.” You couldn’t manage to say anything in response, your thighs shaking from another orgasm that was fast approaching.

Your pussy was squeezing her in all the right ways again. Wanda never got tired of it. In fact, she might argue that she was addicted to it. It was all so perfect, the sounds you made while she was fucking you, the way she could feel you tightened around her faux cock. Wanda mentally thanked the gods for her magic in that moment as she felt you tense around her once again.

With a desperate groan, Wanda’s hips began to falter in their rhythm, but that only made her pump her cock harder into you as she moved erratically. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your whole body was trembling uncontrollably as you neared the edge yet again. And again, you could tell that Wanda was approaching it with you. At this point she was yet again practically using your body as toy to fuck so she could get off. Her moans and the grip she had on your thighs said as much. It was the way she groaned in your ear and whispered about how she loved filling you with her cum as she approached her own edge that sent you over. Wanda kept going as you came, her movements getting more and more sloppy as she got closer and closer until finally she came inside you. Your whole body shuddered as you felt even more cum paint you on the inside.

Wanda pulled out, peeling herself off you finally and sitting back to look at you again. Her eyes fixated on the way her own cum leaked out slowly from your entrance. She would go again just to see how much she could fill you until you felt entirely too full of her cum, but she knew you were spent. Your body still trembled and your chest was heaving as you were trying to catch your breath. She was rough with you tonight. More so than she ever had been. But then again, you did test her tonight and you needed to learn.

It took you a minute to come down from how hard she made you cum. Wanda just sat patiently and waited for you to regain composure. Her fingertips brushing against your bare thighs here and there as a way to sooth you. She couldn’t help but admire you as you laid beneath her. You were such a sight… absolutely ruined for Wanda and Wanda alone. Her eyes fell to a few bruises she left behind on your thighs from how rough she treated you, but in her mind, it made you all the more beautiful. Wanda hummed in appreciation as her nails gently dragged down your stomach, leaving faint red marks in their wake. The shift from angry to gentle was a welcome one after your body continued to struggle to come back from how hard you came.

All you could do was continue to lay there, still too exhausted to react. “You’re all mine,” Wanda said that more to herself than to you, but still you nodded your agreement weakly. Wanda couldn’t stop the proud smile at your action. So her actions got through to you. Good, Wanda thought. At least you know who you belong to. Your lesson has been learned. Now, it was time to deal with her other problem. After all, she just couldn’t have that girl near you when she so clearly had unacceptable intentions towards you…

taglist: @desperate-gay @storiesofsvu @storiesofsvu2-0 (idk which one to primarily tag oops lol) @demonicbaby666

Join my taglist here

#wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff smut #marvel fic #five-bi-five-mind

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 months

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One massive difference between the western vs JP TWST fandoms that I haven't seen anyone else talk about is that the Japanese fandom seems to dwell in "grimdark" territory while the western one tries to see the best in these characters. From my glimpses into the Japanese fandom, they seem to see these character's darkness as the main appeal. That's reflected in their fanworks, since yandere works or things that dive into their dark sides are more popular there. While there is plenty of yandere content in the west, it seems more like a niche than the most popular way to portray the characters in fics where as in Japan that seems to be the norm on Pixiv. The JP seem to LOVE their grim dark fan theories WAY more than the western one. The western fandom seems like the opposite. Works seeing their humanity, them being decent partners, etc is the norm. Thought?

“I can fix him” vs “I can make him worse”—

Mmm, I have many thoughts on this but before I get into them I want to clarify some things. This is so everyone reading is running with the same definitions and thus can better understand (and perhaps contribute to) the discussion.

Firstly, “grimdark” can refer to any and all materials which people may find disturbing, amoral, and/or violent. Grimdark is NOT just yandere content. Although yandere content is an example of grimdark, not all grimdark is yandere.

Secondly, I want to dispel the notion that “grimdark” and “seeing the best in the characters” are opposites. They are actually not mutually exclusive; it is entirely possible to have the two overlap. For example, it is common for assassins to be after Kalim’s life (which is dark). However, Kalim himself is very cheery despite being cognizant of this (which is not dark, he is able to see the nest of this situation and is often praised for being a spot of sunshine in the cast). There are also much darker takes while staying true to Kalim’s caring nature, such as fandom works which portray his big heart (a strength) as a detriment, causing him to fall into deep paranoia and/or guilt. For the purposes of this discussion, I will still refer back to those two original viewpoints, just be aware that they are not truly “opposites”.

Lastly, the ask is phrased such that it suggests that dark content is “the norm” in Japanese circles. In actuality, the content you see is dependent on personal biases and what the algorithms feed you based on your likes and communities. While it’s true that perhaps Japanese fandoms have more dark content than the western fandoms, that doesn’t necessarily mean it is “the norm”. It is still considered niche, it is just that the fandom culture of Japan is more open-minded about these depictions, as well as fans’ choices to filter out dark content if they do not wish to encounter it. Western fandoms are very different in this regard. Rather than ignoring content they dislike or find disturbing, western fans tend to adopt an attitude of openly renouncing that which they dislike and, at times, calling out those that do enjoy that kind of thing. It is this social stigma and pressure within western fandoms which creates a less welcoming space for dark content to exist and to be publicly shared. Rather than saying one type of content is “the norm”, I think it’s more accurate to say certain types of content are deemed as being “acceptable” or “unacceptable” depending on the fandom culture.

Now then, as to why the western fandom in particular tends to favor works that show the TWST characters in a favorable light rather than focus on their darker aspects? There are many possible explanations for this:

Cultural differences in fandom spaces. I already mentioned this in the opening paragraphs, but it warrants repeating here. Japanese fans are much more reserved in how they express themselves and tend to keep quiet relating to content they dislike or don’t care for. Western fans are more outspoken and may actively “call out” what they dislike. This is typically observed in collectivist vs individualist countries, as conformity with the group/not causing disruptions to the group harmony and standing out and being one’s own individual are opposing ideologies and values.

Japan’s culture is one that stresses the importance of politeness and being proper. The country has strict social expectations of people and especially women (which makes up the majority of TWST’s fanbase). It is only in the realm of fiction where Japanese women are able to freely express themselves and to explore subject matter deemed socially inappropriate, however dark it may be. Fandom is their creative outlet. Meanwhile in the west, it’s the opposite. Overt uniqueness is more acceptable overall, but there is also a present effort of policing online content, often in the name of social activism and inclusion. This makes sense for western countries, many of which sport much more diverse populations than Japan.

Going in with the certain expectations of the game. Many western fans mistook Twisted Wonderland for a dating sim when its marketing materials first released, maybe due to a language barrier. This set them up for the wrong expectations about romancing and potentially “fixing” a villain, even when the game finally came out (due to residual feelings; I know for a fact there are still a handful of fans who want TWST to have a dating sim spinoff or wish the game had been a dating sim from the start).

Changes made in the localization.

I’m not sure what the ratio of westerners playing EN to JP, but the official localization made several changes which “blunted” some details or changed the context of some characters’ stories. For example, Jamil is no longer a “servant” but an “employee”, Kalim is his “employer”, not “master”, and Jamil complains that his parents will be “so mad at him” when he is asked why he doesn’t rebel against the Asims whole the consequences are made much more explicit in JP (his family will be thrown out onto the streets). Cater, Floyd, and Idia have also notably gotten a lot more memey dialogue that was not there in the original. These softened versions the characters may make western fans more likely to see the a less severe backstory or have goofier interpretation of certain characters.

Popular western media’s interpretations of villains. A lot of western media nowadays tries to redeem the bad guys. For example, in many young adult and adult romance fantasy novels, the love interest is often presented as a misunderstood bad boy that has a change of heart because of the protagonist. Disney themselves is also guilty of “softening” many of their more recent villains and giving new backstories to older villains to make them more sympathetic (Maleficent, Cruella, etc). Compare this to “classic” era Disney villains, who are just evil for the sake of being evil. These will naturally inform the general public’s views on villains. (It is also to be noted that Disney villains and specifically their evilness are extremely popular in Japan. They are adored for being fun characters, not necessarily admired for being bad.)

Disney’s reputation, especially in the west. The company is closely associated with fairy tales —and, more importantly, with magic and happy endings. This, too, may contribute to western fans wanting to look on the “bright side” of things and wish for happy endings for characters that are, in fact, part of the Disney brand. The Disney message is perhaps strongest in the west due to having its origins there:

The age differences between the Japanese and the western fandoms. The western TWST fandom skews young overall whereas the Japanese TWST fandom is older (which is why a lot of TWST merch you’ll see is expensive household goods and fashion; this is to appeal to working Japanese women). As I mentioned in the previous point, this means younger audiences in the west may mostly encounter media which presents villains in a more sympathetic light, or at least much earlier (which leaves a stronger impression). This makes them more inclined to view other media in a way which is more flattering for the villains even when they are dark or morally ambiguous in canon.

Younger fans may also be not as informed and thus lack some perspective, which means they may have more limited views. A 15 year old wouldn’t have as much life experience as a 20 year old—that’s not a bad thing, it’s an objective truth that has an impact on their perspective. They may see things more simplistically or see easier solutions to complex problems. Younger fans may, for example, be able to identify circumstances as being traumatic or unfair (such as the case with Jamil’s past and Leona’s desire to introduce new technologies to his home country) but may not understand the full ramifications (ie why Jamil cannot just leave or have Kalim to speak with his dad about it, how difficult Leona’s plans would be to implement as well as the social pushback due to the harm the advances could pose to the environment). This leads to more of a lean to positive content, as dark content would inherently mean problems are much more difficult to resolve and have more factors to them than what was originally considered.

I want to also point out that younger fans are especially concerned with what their peers may think of them, and so they may feel too embarrassed to dabble in darker content. Some dark content may also not be perceived as appropriate depending on the fan’s age. Alternatively, some fans may just not feel comfortable exploring those ideas (and that’s totally fine!).

Western fans project onto/relate to the characters they love. I’m not saying that Japanese fans don’t do this, but I feel like western fans tend to do this to a VERY strong and sometimes parasocial degree (which has its roots in comfort character and kinning culture, things which largely do not exist in east Asian fandoms). Like… western fans can relate to a character so deeply that any criticism of that character can feel like a personal attack on them, the fan. Likewise, if that character is presented as having flaws or doing questionable things (even if it is canon), the fans that are strongly projecting onto the character may feel that they themselves are flawed or somehow “bad” too. This can lead into trying to defend or justify the character’s flaws or actions. Maybe a fan that has shared trauma with a character sees them as a proxy and want to see the character (and thus, themselves) in a positive way or in good situations. In eastern fandoms, it is more appropriate to consider the character a separate entity rather than relating to or projecting onto them.

The western rise in moral justification for the content one consumes. This is a big one, and it has been alluded to in some of the other points. There is this belief circulating in western fandom spaces that “the content you consume reflects your real world values and morals”. So… if you believe that (or are in a social space where it is believed) and happen to like evil or morally grey characters, what does that imply about your own character? Does that mean you are morally bankrupt or that you condone bad things? Personally, I don’t think so but I understand why this way of thinking could make people feel ashamed. They may avoid looking at “dark” interpretations of a character and instead focus on wholesome feel-good content so that the content they consume reflects “well” on themselves. In other cases, fans may try to twist the bad points of a character to make it “morally okay” to like them.

That’s everything I could come up with off the top of my head!! I hope this was interesting to read and maybe helped you see the international TWST fandom from a new perspective. With that, I’ll leave you with this relevant Wreck-It Ralph quote: “I’m bad, and that’s good. I will never be good, and that’s not bad. There’s no one I’d rather be than me.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland en #twst en #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #question

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chloeangelic · 4 months

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I’ve spent the past week getting slandered in this community with not a shred of evidence, proof, or receipts of me being a mean girl, “Wish Regina George”, a bully, an asshole, someone who spends more time answering anons than I do writing, or any of the other things I’ve seen people say about me out of absolutely fucking nowhere, seemingly because people have grievances towards Gracie that I know nothing about. I appreciate everyone who has checked in on me and asked how I’m doing.

ETA: I have spoken to one of the people who posted statements and anons about me and we have squashed the beef. The statements made about me have been debunked and they have deleted their posts. Please leave me and my friends alone - I've gotten harassed directly and indirectly by anons and posts for two months and I'm tired. I'm not gonna prostrate myself and try to convince the internet that I'm a good person when I know I've done my best to always be kind and respectful in this community. My words will inevitably be twisted and I feel paralyzed. The damage to my reputation has already been done.

This is the only time I’ll address this, and my anons will not be turned back on because this is literally slander and a waste of everyone’s time. I’ve seen multiple vague posts about me as well and I’ve chosen to ignore it all, but it gets to a point where it feels like bullying and I’m done with it. When someone goes on tumblr live to rehash the same shallow shit talking post about me (i.e. talking shit about people they’re accusing of talking shit), that’s when I feel like my limit has been crossed, and since that same live devolved into an advertisement for the host’s own writing… This no longer reads like vigilante justice.

Let me get one thing straight: I am here to write about dick, cock and that old man. I am extremely grateful for the friends I’ve made along the way, and I am beyond appreciative for my readers who support me and who like what I come up with. I am 27 years old, I have a fulltime job, and this is one of my hobbies. If you think I’m going to spend my time in a fandom spamming group chats and being catty, I literally don’t know what to tell you. The few uncomfortable situations I’ve had on here have been addressed and squashed very quickly, whether that’s misunderstandings, accusations or anything else. In a creative space, you are bound to butt heads with people occasionally, or have people who dislike you, and that is fine. I know I have an aloof persona on here, I don’t expect everyone to like me.

I didn’t block anyone up until two days ago when this tumblr live host posted three anon asks in a row about me, and I decided to block the people who seemingly agreed with anons insisting I’m a mean girl, asshole etc. cause why the fuck wouldn’t I? Wouldn’t anyone? I don’t understand why on earth they’re so mad about me blocking them if they dislike me so much already. My shit is still on ao3 if they want to read it.

I don’t know what my mutuals do in their own DM’s, or group chats they’re in that I don’t participate in, because I stay in my lane and I spend my time writing. Of course I don’t condone bad behavior but how am I supposed to know what happens in GCs and servers I’m literally not in? Or conversations in servers where I’m not active? I have not witnessed any of my mutuals talking shit in any GCs, period. That’s all I can say. Additionally, this whole big/elite writers discord people were talking about a while ago - if that exists, I wasn’t even invited lmfao how’s that for being a big writer?

One anon said I was an asshole when they tried to have a conversation with me months back, and I assume this was my Rendezvous anon who I was snarky to cause they were snarky to me. I make it very clear that I have limited patience for anons, and when people in my comments respond back to them, they are responding to a statement that is separate from the person who sent it.

I am not entertaining this insanity any further than this. I will continue to post my old man porn and interact with my mutuals and reblog gif sets of that same old man cause that’s what I’m on here for. If you don’t like me, you are well within your rights, I assume you have your reasons, and that is ultimately none of my business. Everyone has the right to curate their own experience on a website like this.

Love,

Daddy

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conundrumoftime · 8 months

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Fandom grandma tales: how I survived canon ruining two of the ships I liked.

(Written after a discussion with some of my TROP fan pals about how canon can break your heart re: shipping, and how fandom manages. There are spoilers here for the entire run of Babylon 5, and for one story JMS wrote after it. yes, that story. sorry.)

Babylon 5 was a sci-fi space opera show that ran from 1993 to 1998. It is sci-fi of the era of 22-episode seasons, of huge ensemble casts with characters who get their own B- and C-plots, with an effects and casting budget that doesn’t always match its ambition, and - something it was quite pioneering in, at the time - grand pre-planned story arcs.

It’s the first fandom that I was involved with in internet spaces as it was running, or at least when its final season was (there’s Discourse and drama from earlier years that I missed). Its showrunner, J. Michael Straczynski - ‘JMS’ - was very active in (non-fanfic) fan community spaces, and you always knew exactly what he was thinking about things because he was part of the discussion around them. There was also fanfic, which he didn’t stop but didn’t go near on the grounds of legal liability for story ideas.

Most of the fanfic in the early days as the show was airing was focused around two big ships, of which one was canon endgame (Delenn/Sheridan) and one was canon all-ends-in-despair (Marcus/Ivanova). I, as a teenager discovering a developing online fandom for the first time with all the overwhelm and excitement that causes (ask me anything about what reading fic was like before the days of tags/ratings/warnings!) got into Marcus/Ivanova and also into one of the minor ships, Delenn/Lennier.

Delenn/Lennier was never, ever going to happen in canon. This is obvious; it clashes with Delenn/Sheridan which was JMS’s baby darling OTP, the show’s big love story. Delenn is married for the later part of the show. Lennier is her diplomatic aide, is absolutely devoted to her, and they have a very intense mentor/student relationship, which it seems is kind of standard in their culture (when Delenn’s own mentor died she went briefly insane with grief and started a genocidal war over it) but is still Very Intense. He is canonically in love with her, but that’s as far as the explicit canon statements go.

However. HowEVER. Canon also gives us, for that relationship, some wonderful ship fuel. Lennier knows about every bad thing Delenn has done, including all the stuff she doesn’t/can’t tell her husband. He’s her link to her previous world and culture and stands by her even when they kick her out. She says at one point, “without him, I would stumble and fall and never get up again.”

And then… we had Season 5, the final season.

Season 5, for various complicated production reasons, was operating a little outside of pre-planned story arcs and in this season the Delenn/Lennier stuff ramped up about three gears in one go. It was still very obviously never, ever going to be canon, and was almost certainly not intended by the creator (who wrote most of the episodes himself) to look like there was even anything there. At this point Delenn is married; any relationship with her aide would not only be going against the show’s OTP, but going against it in the sense where she’s cheating on her husband, and there is Just No Way JMS would have gone there. And yet! Season 5 gave us:

A scene where Lennier says he can’t stay, it’s too painful to be around her now she’s married, and she’s devastated and has the following conversation with her husband about it:

S: I got your message about Lennier. Is there anything I can do?

D [snapping]: Almost certainly not.

S: Is it because of me?

D: In part, I think so.

S: Yeah, I was afraid of that. Well, as we say back on Earth, three’s a crowd.

D: On Minbar, three is sacred.

S [slightly uncomfortable laugh]: Well, I don’t think I’m ready to handle that one, Delenn.

Delenn then calling Lennier back to the station to do some secret mission thing for her, which involves her sneaking out of her bed while her husband sleeps to meet Lennier in a darkened alley behind a bar, where she tenderly strokes his face and they have a whole conversation about whether her husband understands her or not.

A scene where Lennier comes back from his secret mission to meet both Delenn and Sheridan, Delenn goes to greet him with a hug, and Lennier does this very pointed step back and nod in the direction of her husband, and she pulls back and just sort of pats him on the arms instead.

I MEAN.

But, the issue here is not what fans did about it but what canon did about it. Canon did the canon equivalent of dragging that ship outside and shooting it in the head.

In the final few episodes of the entire series, Lennier tries to kill Sheridan, runs away in shame, and then someone finds his diary in which he’d been writing for ages about what a bad decision he thought Delenn had made and how her whole marriage was an awful idea. Even to this day, it’s fun/awful watching people go through a first-time watch when they get to season 5 and hit that. ‘Character assassination in the form of a diary’ was a whole thing for a while. It’s been 20+ years and the actor who played Lennier is stilll mad about it (not because of shippy stuff, but because he - correctly! - thinks Lennier absolutely would not have done that).

What *fandom* did, on the other hand, was Fixed The Problem.

Delenn/Lennier was not at all a big ship when the series was airing, and for a few years after. Then the fandom dynamics started to change. With less pressure on what canon was going to do, it felt like fandom had more space to play around with things it didn’t do. Fanfic got less interested in trying to fit within the overall story being told and started spinning off in all its own directions. And *this* ship started getting bigger and bigger. People did really interesting things with it, canon divergence went in all directions, everyone wrote a fix-it story of some variety, some authors did a great series of connected stories based on an idea that Minbari have three genders, the quality of the writing has been brilliant. And I think without that absolute whiplash feeling of what happened in canon, there would never have been this feeling of “well I’m not having THAT” which led to all this.

We did not need canon! Canon had done its thing. And canon had broken our hearts enough ways with many of the other stories it told (entirely on purpose) and we weren’t just going to sit back and let it ruin us forever.

By comparison, the other ship I was into was Marcus/Ivanova. This is entirely doomed. Susan Ivanova’s love life is just perpetually doomed. The first partner of hers we meet is an ex who’s interested in getting back together, but then it turns out he’s just using her to infiltrate the station for the fascist terrorist group he’s secretly joined. Then she falls for an archrival of hers, Talia, who works for Psi Corps, the organisation she loathes most of all things - but it’s okay because it turns out Talia is starting to question them too! Maybe these crazy kids can make it work! They have one night together and then OOPS turns out Talia was being secretly controlled by a sleeper personality implanted in her by Psi Corps the whole time. Ivanova’s love life is doomed.

So for two seasons, she has this sort-of-flirty, sort-of-bickery, sort-of-friendship going with Marcus, who is on the surface of it very much “why not fall in love at first sight like a true romantic, YOLO!” but it turns out is actually deeply messed up himself and full of survivor’s guilt and pain and, you get the clear impression, would have died of shock if she’d actually called his bluff on the OTT flirting and said “yeah, let’s go for it”. And then he sacrifices himself to save her life. It is a very tragic ending, it is absolutely the way he would have wanted to go, she wakes up both furious and absolutely distraught, says that the last thing she heard was him saying “I love you”, says she wishes she’d at least slept with him once, and says that in a way all love is unrequited. PAIN.

So, lots of fix-it fanfic, lots of ‘Marcus comes back to life’, lots of canon divergence AUs where he doesn’t die and they live happily ever after and both get over their huge levels of unresolved pain. Pretty standard for that kind of pairing. And as a pairing it doesn’t get in the way of any big canon pairings, it doesn’t imply anything icky like mentor/student power imbalances or adultery. And JMS clearly quite liked it. So that’s better, right?

NO. It was WORSE.

JMS wrote an Marcus/Ivanova story himself, published in one of the sci-fi magazines, to try to give them a happy ending. This happy ending involves Marcus, many many years in the future, waking up from the cryogenic suspension he’s in (it’s sci-fi, keep up, keep up). Ivanova is long dead, but he isn’t about to let this get in the way, so what he does is to *create a new Ivanova* by getting some kind of DNA + computerised memory/personality bank thing, finding a doctor who will clone her, putting himself back into animated sleep until the clone reaches the age Ivanova was when she died, then - THEN, I’M STILL GOING - takes her to a distant planet where, with her memories wiped and their spaceship having deliberately been crashed BY HIM so there’s no way back, they live out their lives in peace.

WHAT.

That pairing still does okay in fandom but it’s not really taken on a post-show world of headcanons and riffing on other people’s ideas and tropes in the way that Delenn/Lennier has (and we all just pretend that story never existed).

So! This has been my experiences in the field of What We Do When The Show Has Thoughts On That Non-Endgame Ship We’re Into. Fandom manages. Fandom will see you through. And in the words of Susan Ivanova:

Babylon Five was the last of the Babylon stations; there would never be another. It changed the future, and it changed us. It taught us that we have to create the future, or others will do it for us. It showed us that we have to care for one another, for if we don’t, who will? And that true strength sometimes comes from the most unlikely places. Mostly though, I think it gave us hope that there can always be new beginnings - even for people like us.

#fandom grandma #fandom history #non-endgame ships #shipping #canon and non-canon ships #babylon 5 #delenn x lennier #marcus x ivanova #that story's not canon if I say it's not canon #b5 #what in the actual hell was that diary anyway #snarky bill mumy interview forever in our hearts #never have I seen a more perfect ot3 setup and YET

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skxllz · 6 months

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𝐤𝐞𝐧...

with a partner who's completely opposite of him.

with a partner who wears black, dark red, burgundy, midnight blue, dark forest green, white and grey. not pink nor bright colors.

with a partner who likes different music than he does. ken screams bill withers, marvin gaye, alicia keys, etc. you on the other hand dig more intellectual, hardcore music - mötely crue, metallica, alice in chains, skid row, etc. even artists that are more down to earth on a different level, such as foster the people or arctic monkeys.

with a partner who isn't as open. you keep more to yourself, stay in your own bubble, don't really talk about your feelings. ken on the other hand, he's always in everyone's space. and, even though he thinks emotions are more of a woman's touch, he ends up speaking on how feels; voicing if he's upset or if he feels icky - in his own way of course.

with a partner who doesn't like social settings. ken loves the beach, ken loves to attend parties and the bar and the university nearby just because he can. you though- you only like the beach at night, when it's quiet and peaceful with no one around. you like to walk the street at night, when no one is really out; and if they are, you don't get bothered (unless it's a weirdo). you like to go to the skatepark during work/school hours, and chill at the ice cream shop that doesn't get real busy, and just stay in your room because it's your safe space.

with a partner who is closed off from affection. ken always gives you hugs, kisses, caresses to your cheek and pets to your hair. you return the favor, too.. but that doesn't mean it's as strong as a touch, or as often - hell, it's even awkward because you're not used to it. but ken knows that's okay, he's patient even though he doesn't want to be. he understands... somewhat. not really, but he's trying.

with a partner who loves physical activity that doesn't require as much work. walking along the side of the river, or railroad tracks; jogging a mile; just simply waking up to be productive. ken, on the other hand, loves to surf (he ended up learning). he loves to attempt to cook, to attempt to play volleyball. his favorite? It's lifting dumbbells with impressive weight.

with a partner who loves to lay around and watch movies. you can relax, and smile in amusement at a cheesy horror movie, or laugh during a comedy. ken, though, he's not able to sit still for long periods of time unless it's to touch you. the film's don't capture his attention; physical action does. affection does. you. not tv.

( hi this is all I have for now LOL. I'm new to the barbie fandom, hello 😏 I'll try to add more content in when I can but for now... enjoy this. )

#barbie #ken barbie #ken x male reader #ken x reader #ken x fem reader #ken x you #ken x y/n #barbie movie #barbie imagine #rg/ken #rg/ken! x reader #ken #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling

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selarina · 8 months

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Dusty-Eyed Thief

-> Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: He was a thief, she was a princess. Can I make it any more obvious?

Content Warnings: royalty!au, enemies to lovers, fluff, banter, a budding forbidden romance, class differences, strained father-daughter relationship, mild violence, very unedited

Words: 3.5k words

Author's Notes: I know the Levi fandom is dead but I wrote this so so long ago, figured I'd give it a place here

The kitchen is your sanctuary. It engulfs you with its tranquility, the blaring sound of clanking pots only adding to the rhythmic routine of it all.

The steam from the cooking dishes hugs you on this cold, cold night as you weave your way through the maze of workers. You smile as you're hit with the first blend of splendid smells. You make your way further into the kitchen to find the buttery treat that's meticulously packed by Niccolo and placed beneath a hidden, faulty tile on the floor. Niccolo is truly a blessing sent from the Gods.

Despite its tranquility, it is an unusual place for a lady to spend her time, yet you frequently find yourself here – costumed in an apron, playing the part like you belong.

At first, you were naturally worried about being caught, but that only lasted for a spare few minutes as you soon grew accustomed to the sequence of it all. And you found that while dressed as a commoner, you were nearly invisible in this castle. You took full use of it, maybe to the point of misusing it.

A few workers recognise you on occasion, but they refuse to report you to the King in an attempt to protect their own peace. Arguments between you and your father elicited a barrage of petty retorts, coming in from both ends, which heavily affected the workers that were unfortunate enough to be witnessing it.

You're certain your father would not approve of your ventures, despite the peep of fondness he has reserved for you. Actually, you're convinced that it is deep disdain he holds for you; it's only been coated with fondness to suit his purposes.

You actively have to stop yourself from thinking about him; you do not want those thoughts to permeate through into your sacred space. And besides, you have to stay alert.

Applying gentle pressure on the strings, you open the package to discover that he made you some cookies today. You have to contain yourself from jumping in glee, settling for a wide grin for now.

You want to procure some milk to have with the cookies. You close the package, although not packing it fully as you place it near the nearest window. It seems safe placed in a fairly unoccupied corner of the kitchen.

As you return with the milk, a pair of hands cover your eyes. The hands are roughly placed against your eyes, and you feel out worldly for a second — blank, confused, intrigued before you push him off, digging your nails into the culprit's hand.

You hear him yelp before you catch his face, the culprit. He is a boy with dusty blonde hair. He pulls his hands back into his chest, soothing it over with his other hand.

Another deep voice reaches your ears, and you perk up, your eyes flitting over to the open window as you try to find him. Was that window always open? What is happening?

“Why do you keep making this easy for us?” The other man's voice is adorned with pure mockery.

You’ve never moved faster in your life. (Well, except for that time you were on the verge of being traded for an assassin’s payment.) You rush up close to the window, looking down before you see him, he's standing on… you're not sure. He seems to be standing on thin air, but you know that is not the case.

Your eyes flit over to his blue eyes; you find hints of green in them as you stand there for a second, just staring at him. You're not sure what to do. He's probably a thief, a thief with pretty eyes. As you stare you think his eyes might be green, although you conclude a moment later that it could be a play of light. You can't tell if his eyes are green or blue.

He’s handsome too; you made that conclusion as soon as you saw the rest of his face, and you curse yourself for thinking that when you’re literally in front of a thief that has stolen your only source of joy. He's standing beneath you, but he holds a gaze that makes you feel like you're being towered by him; he seems a bit intimidating. Instinctively, you mold your eyes to mirror his, sharpening them as you were taught, as you practice.

You feel liquid trickling down your hand, and you realize you’ve dropped your milk. You only make note of it when feeling his eyes trail down.

You immediately rush to squat down to pick up the broken pieces of glass; you do not wish for any of the kitchen staff to get into trouble, although you are certain they will when they have to tally up the kitchenware by the end of this week. You make a quick note to discreetly pay Hange to buy it and replace it for you.

In your haste and state of disorientation, you prick your hand against the pointy edge of a fallen piece. And you instantly curse yourself.

"PRINCESS," Niccolo yells out to you, and your identity is out within mere seconds. You can guarantee Niccolo would have been more discreet if the situation hadn't been so strenuous. You look down and see a tinge of vermillion seeping out of the cut in your hand.

You look up to catch a glimpse of the two men, who appear to be leaving amidst the chaos. You see them in your peripheral sight, but you’re too late by the time you turn to look, all you witness is a retreating figure, making it out the window with a swift leap.

You are waiting for the sound – his body hitting the ground, broken bones, anything.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five seconds, and still nothing. You scramble to the window, only to see trees and utensils that are washed and stacked on a white cloth left to dry under the scorching sun.

“It’s the princess, get the doctor," a couple of kitchen staff make it to your side.

There’s an immediate sense of panic seeping out from within you. You’re certain your father is going to make your life difficult if he were to find out, which would happen if you were to be tended by the palace doctor. The prickling sensation grows; you need to see a doctor. You decide you’ll deal with it.

You’re also plagued with a sudden sense of intrigue. You can’t place it quite well, not at this moment, but you want to know what the color of his eyes were. You want to ask him why he stole your food but also, you want to be him. In most ways, it's all you've yearned for. You want to leap out that window and disappear into nowhere, wherever that is.

—

You run straight towards the arriving horses. You're greeted with a smile and a frown. You focus on the smile, one that adorns your brother’s face, giving him a quick hug before you move to face the frown. "I heard about your little culinary mishap, my dear. To make reparations, you are to attend the ballroom event tomorrow evening, and you must ensure that you do not flee as you have done these last several times that you believe I have not noticed," your mother’s voice is stern, declaring it as finality.

You decidedly agree, knowing you will find ways to leave halfway through the event, and she will ignore it as she always does. For, unlike your father, she does not believe you to be the bane of her existence.

"Now, come here and give me a hug, my lovely and incredibly irritating daughter," as though she was reading your mind and cementing your notions about her.

You reach your arms out to embrace her. You place your chin towards the crevice of her neck and you’re hit with the smell of rose and iris, maybe even amber. It smells distinctly the same as when she embraced you after the first of your many disagreements with your father. You remember how you kept a straight face during the altercation, but immediately broke down at the sign of him finally leaving, only to find comfort due to her presence.

“I shall arrive at the stupid ballroom floor and I shall look pretty doing it. I shall catch the eye of every person in the room and you will forgive me for any mishaps I will ever commit. Won’t you, mother?”

“You’re to catch the eye of every person at a secret debutante, are you?”

“Debutante? Why is it a secret?”

“It’s a secret for it adds an element of sincerity, does it not? Your brother can court an honest woman.”

“I hardly think any woman’s honest in a society that is designed against the very notion of honesty, and especially not in a room that is swarmed with eyes waiting for any acts that are even slightly misplaced. But, I do wish you the very best, brother.”

“Thank you for your wishes. If opportunity permits, we may even find someone for our dear older sister. You’ll be next in line for picking then. Isn’t that ever-so enthralling to hear?”, the mockery reaches your ears crisply. Maybe much too crisply, because you find your mother glaring up at him.

You laugh at that, knowing that you are within the shields of the walls of your castle, but most importantly with your mother.

“I implore you to take your time, brother. You will need it to court for a suitable wife, would you not?” You try to hide your obvious nervousness at the breach of a topic you have been avoiding for much of your life.

“I suppose you are right, sister,” he looks down at you with a reassuring smile.

You do not want to be tied down by marriage any time soon. You have yet to process the fact that this is not your forever home. Your forever home is beside a man that sees you as a china piece to display, apparently. But you find brief solace in the fact that you come from the most reputable family in this kingdom and you will not be disrespected in any form, for it would not bode well for them.

—

The ball is the pinnacle of opulence. It's primarily filled with tones of rose gold, complementing the white and golden hues of your ballroom. You sense the presence of grey and teal amongst the crowd; you presume they're worn by accolades to instate their titles. The royal family, on the other hand, is required to constantly stand out, which is why you find yourself snug in a golden embroidered gown.

You suspect your mother has overstepped the mark with her preparations. You move the curtain that separates you from the ballroom slightly to catch a glimpse of her. Her strong and ethereal countenance reveals little about who she is, simply asserting that she should be feared and admired in equal measure.

You think of your sister’s tales of a knight in shining armor that might have reached you, if only for a fleeting moment, it’s enough for you to believe that maybe you could find a man who is respectful, charming, and filled with the tender ache to cherish you and only you, always. It only lasts for a transient moment of weakness. You’re drawn back to reality when your sister reaches for your arm and loops it with her own.

"You look absolutely lovely," she remarks, as a matter of fact, whilst sporting a sweet smile. "Who are you, and what have you done to my unlovely wretched sister?"

"Very amusing," you quip promptly as if it's habitual to do so.

"Sister, if you were to stray away early this evening, I certainly would not ask for you to procure some pastries. Although, I would most definitely not mind them after a night as strenuous as this.”

“Only if you help me escape”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she quips letting go of your hand. She has a faint smile on her face as she straightens her posture. And just like that, she transforms herself to be the elegant first daughter of the King, the one every maiden in the kingdom is taught to be like.

“You look radiant, sister. I’m sure there isn’t a man in this kingdom who wouldn’t fall head over heels to court you, and yet again, I implore you to take your time. I’m not saying this for my sake, not this time at least. I hope you find a kind man, the one you always told me you wished for” You try to smile, but it is hard to ignore the bleak truth that’s hidden within your words.

“Thank you for saying that” She seems to sense it too but her smile doesn’t waver; in fact, it grows, as though your words made a difference to her. That would be a first. You too can’t help but genuinely smile.

After about an hour of dancing and chatting away with people, you find that it would not be that hard for you to escape all on your own. You’re not the first diamond of a daughter or the most eligible bachelor of this season. You’re the second daughter and fourth child of the royal family that people will worry about impressing next season.

To not frighten your sister, you make it through the swarm of men waiting for their turn to dance with her; you inform her that you will take your leave, as discreetly as you can. You meet your mother’s eyes one last time before you leave. Every single time you escape you try to meet her eye, just to catch her when she sees you leaving but somehow you’ve never caught her.

You make your way to the kitchen, briefly showcasing your teeth to perform the act of duplicating a smile at every passerby that meets your eyes. There are a lot of people. You're frankly exhausted and your head is throbbing. Maybe some tea will help with the ailment.

You know that there won’t be kitchen staff present there since there is an exclusive kitchen for events as grand as this since it requires a massive scale of utensils.

You make it and it is murky. You reach out for the candle holder, placed at the entrance. You wince at the coldness of the brass. It holds three candles. You light all three of them, with muscle memory.

"Is your hand okay?", you hear the same deep voice and you frantically look around to spot him.

"Where are you?"

"Princess," you hear from behind you. This is honestly more frightening than the stuff you've read from your brother's atrocious shelf of literature.

You compose yourself. You will not falter and show weakness in front of a thief. "You are to greet me with respect. I am of the royal family," you punctuated every last word.

"I called you princess, didn't I?", he walks over to face you eye to eye, face to face.

"Gray'', you blurt out. You blurt it out far too quickly to calculate the embarrassment it would cause you. You feel it but you don't show it. It's one thing being part of a higher society has taught you.

His eyes are a stark sterling gray and that was rather unexpected to you. You thought about it extensively, maybe too extensively for the last two days. You concluded and expected it to be either green or blue.

His eyes remind you so much of thunderstorms. You happen to like them. They're distinctly heavy in color, but there's a variation that resonates something akin to…gentleness?

You're not why you're focusing much too much on his eyes, but they are beautiful and you could stare at them all day and night if you were allowed to. Maybe that's not an exaggeration.

"What?" he blurts out, rather confused. His eyebrows are bunched together like he's trying so hard to make sense of what you said. You refuse to bring ruin to your already faltering dignity, so you ignore the questions altogether to make room for your many questions.

You do not like not knowing things, not having reasoning for things. It bothers you immensely, for everything has a reason, does it not?

"Why are you here? Why were you here yesterday? Why did you steal my food? Do you do that often? How did you survive the jump?” Not giving him time to interject, you continue with your ramblings. “I have been thinking about what you said to me yesterday and it came to my attention that you implied this act of yours happens often. If so, why?"

This person bores a blank statement to their face. Either his facial features are impaired or he’s blatantly disrespecting you.

"You will answer me," you beseech him to answer. No, you're insistent. He doesn't budge, so you assemble all of your memories of your mother's severe glances to replicate it. You demand.

"Yes, I do it frequently, and no, I'm not answering the rest of your questions." You wait for a few seconds to see if he would budge. He does not.

"What motivates you to steal anyway?"

He stares, "Why was a princess like yourself dressed in a commoner's clothes?"

"I inquired first."

"I think you're more interested in my response than I am in yours." His eyes glint as he ever so slightly smirks, "Would you really like to play this out?"

"Very well. Just wanted some sweets really.” His mouth twitched upwards at the sight of you losing your temper. What a haughty man. “Does that answer satisfy you enough to answer mine?”

"Okay, princess.” He tilts his head a little when he mentions your title, it doesn’t sit right with you. And his tone is only a little condescending, you ignore it.

“Well, go on.” You urge.

"I was stealing food for my fellow people. The cookies were quite delicious. We thank the royal family for their utmost generosity," he says. His face is blank as you’re left baffled. You don't have time to be annoyed by his obvious mockery for something that could be seen as trivial as your long-gone cookies, for you find the way he said it interesting, to say the least.

"What do you mean?"

"Hmm? Dunno, we wanted something to sweeten the whole meal of dust and dirt we had for lunch. Do you get it now?” For the first time, there’s a hint of annoyance with you.

“I’m sorry. I–” You pause, your posture slackens for the first time today. “I don’t understand.”

His brows raise, but his face remains blank. “Yeah, I don’t expect anything else from a ditzy princess with all of her dresses and her little castles.”

You cinch your brows, “I am not ditzy,” you enunciate every single word of that sentence.

You only get a little dumb when you’re angry really and you’re trying not to get there right now as you force yourself to breathe through your nose. For some reason, you feel the need to prove you’re smart and capable. It’s odd, this may be the first time you have felt this way. You don’t generally feel someone asking for more of you. They expect you to be ditzy, not the opposite. “And we only have 3 castles…” Your voice trails out as he stares back at you. You said the wrong thing, you know how shallow you sound. You think his eyes must be hurting with the way he seems to narrow them down in judgment, every time you seem to speak.

“Well, since you seem to have 3 castles. You wouldn’t mind if we decided to take a small share of what you have, would you?”

“I don’t mind, I didn’t— I don’t— Uh—” You hear a noise, someone’s outside the door. You swivel your head to look.

No one. Nothing. An empty corridor is all that meets your eyes.

You sigh as you turn back, only — you see nothing. Your eyes squint around skimming the dimly lit kitchen. It’s almost like you were talking to a ghost of a man. Only the plain utensils and leftover food seem to be proof of his existence.

You blink in confusion, your heart racing as you search the dimly lit kitchen for any sign of the gray-eyed man. "What in the world..." you mutter to yourself.

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