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dreamingofep · 1 year ago

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A Blue Velvet Crush

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

TW: Cussing, teasing, SMUTTT, fingering

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: Hello everyone! This picture of Elvis lives rent free in my head and I knew when I first saw it, I had to write something for it.

If you've never seen some of this performance, I'd recommend watching! I'll make another post with the youtube link!

Thank you again❤️

Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.

Mississippi, September 26th, 1956

Traffic was backed up for miles and the buzz in the air was electrifying. You couldn’t hide your nerves though. You weren’t even supposed to be here today but by the grace of God, you got thrown in the ring and had to cover today’s most important story. Elvis Presley was back in his hometown of Tupelo, Mississippi to perform a charity concert. His rise to fame seemed to happen overnight and everyone was dying to see him in person.

You were just an intern at the Tupelo Mirror and your supervisor that was running the Elvis story got sick this morning. Eric called you at the crack of dawn, frantic that no one was going to be there to take pictures. You had only been at the newspaper for a month and a half, you didn’t want to overstep your role and be too forward, but you mentioned that you have photography experience. You ran your college photography club and were majoring in journalism. You know you can take some decent shots of him. You try to sell yourself, affirming you can do this! The whole reason you were working for the newspaper was to get a better shot of getting a job at a newspaper company after you graduated. You thought this would be the perfect way to gain the experience. And if you got some good pictures of Elvis Presley? That could change your whole life.

You did have a fondness of the man but like, who didn’t at your age? He was the new cool guy who was causing havoc wherever he went. He was talented and had this luring sense about him. You hadn’t ever seen him in person, but based on the few televised appearances he’s made, he was beyond incredible. You knew he had a talent that no one had ever had. Your parents would always make a fuss if you were watching him and tried to make you feel bad for it.

“No Christian boy should be moving like that! It’s abhorrent.” Your parents used to say.

You’d just roll your eyes and grumble under your breath. Your parents didn’t understand that he was something young people could love and be fully immersed in without having to act all prim and proper about it. There was no other artist that would make you feel the way Elvis made his audiences feel. He was passionate and he felt the music to his very soul. It showed so easily he didn’t have to say he loved what he was doing.

And now you were going to be feet away from Elvis, taking his picture and maybe even getting the chance to ask him a few questions. The cars started moving forward more and before you could get through the gates, a police officer stopped you. You rummaged through your satchel and pulled out your press pass. He quickly nodded and directed you to the portion of the lot where other photographers and press reporters were gathered. You quickly find a spot and throw your car in park. You throw your satchel over your head and grab your camera out of its bag. It wasn’t the most high-end camera but it took nice pictures. You double-checked the camera had enough film and quickly made a beeline to the stage.

There were thousands of people here already and the buzz in the air was electric. You saw girls jumping up and down giddy that they were about to see Elvis live. You had some of the men standing next to them with a bored expression on their faces like they didn’t want to be there. You had to play it cool though. You had your press badge on and the last thing you needed was for someone to see you acting giddy when you had to be professional today.

There was a corralled section for the press behind ropes that gave you a bit better access on the side of the stage but it was still very crowded. Not only that, but it was all men here and they were all significantly taller than you. You couldn’t see a damn thing from this area and became worried you weren’t going to be able to get one good photograph of this entire thing!

You try to push and shove your way closer to the front but just get these condescending looks toward you and don’t budge an inch for you. You didn’t expect anything less honestly, the industry was made up of men and wasn’t exactly kind to women entering the workplace. You shake it off, not letting it get to you too much.

The audience starts screaming as the band takes their place on stage. It’s a small band with just a drummer, bassist, and guitar player. They’re all smiles when they hear the crowd go wild for them. Your eyes are focused on the side of the stage though. You want to get the first glimpse of him when he gets on this stage.

The audience continues to grow antsy and an announcer hops on stage. He steps in front of the microphone at center stage and taps it with his finger.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I know you all are very excited to have one of our very own from Tupelo be here today. I need you to give a warm welcome to Elvis Presley.”

The crowd erupts at his name and everyone bursts out in insane excitement. You keep your eyes on the side of the stage and you raise the camera to your face, getting ready for the first shot.

The audience gets louder and you feel the hair on your arms rise. There you see him. He’s dressed in a velvety blue long-sleeve and loose black slacks with his perfect white oxfords. His hair was greased back and looked shiny. He had his guitar on and made his way to the microphone. From this angle, he looked so tall, his legs easily gliding him across the stage.

He carried this nervous energy about him tho. He puts his hand in his pocket and grabs the microphone with the other hand.

Click.

He starts Heartbreak Hotel and drives the place insane. Everyone is screaming and some girls are even crying. His voice rings out flawlessly and once he starts singing, there’s no stopping him. He can’t seem to stand still. Whether it’s the music moving him or the nerves, he is shaking and moving, making the crowd even more insane.

There are times when the screams overpower his voice coming through the microphone. He has an amused look on his face the whole time though. Especially when he swings his hips and makes the girls go bezerk. You catch yourself blushing at those moves, how he can move his hips so easily as he makes these in-passion faces. He made you feel something you’ve never felt before. It was bad, it was lust driving you to keep looking at what he was going to do next. You wanted him to move more to see just how those hips would move in other circumstances…

Click.

Fucking focus.

He wasn’t afraid to get close to his fans. It looked like he really loved them. You could tell he moved his leg just to get them going and have them look there. Or how he’d say a certain word and prolong it all sensually, it drove the place nuts. Even just the way he held the microphone and dragged it along beside him. He commanded that stage by doing the smallest things. Elvis walks slowly to the edge of the stage where dozens of fans reach out their hands for him. He gets close and reaches out his hand too, still singing and never missing a beat.

Click.

You get the side profile of him but you think it’s going to be a great picture when it develops. What you really want is a perfect picture of his face straight onto the camera. That would be a great way to solidify that you are a great photographer and can do this professionally.

Elvis finishes his set and gets rushed off stage into the building behind the arena. You follow the crowd that’s trying to get to him, hoping you can get another picture of him that’s even better than the ones you took. The other photographers aren’t paying any attention to you and push and shove their way through. You huff annoyed, hoping you can get in there before they close the doors.

You find a spot on the side but all the men in here are so much taller and crowding Elvis. You slump by the door, frustrated that you might have ruined your big chance to prove yourself at the newspaper as you haven’t gotten a single shot of his face straight on. You wanted to the perfect shot and it seems your opportunity was wasted.

“Alright everyone it’s time to leave. Elvis won’t be answering any more questions,” a man bellows. Most of the men try to protest but they slowly start to funnel out of the door. You continue to get pushed aside until you’re almost behind the door. You don’t move from behind there because, for a brief second, a devious idea pops into your head.

Just stay here long enough for everyone to leave and ask for a picture when he’s alone.

Your heart pounds away at just the thought of being alone with Elvis but you had to try it. The worst he could say was no and get out.

The last few remaining men shuffle out of the room and Elvis yells out that he’ll be right out. The door shuts closed, making your little hiding spot be exposed in plain sight.

Elvis had his back to the door so he didn’t see you right away. You sighed in relief for that but had to work up the courage to say something to him.

What exactly should you say in this situation? ‘Hi I snuck in your dressing room even though I was told to get out, can I take a few pictures of you for the newspaper?’

You cringed just thinking about it. You took a few deep breaths and straightened out your dress.

“Umm, excuse me, Elvis?” You say sheepishly.

He turns around quickly at the sound of your voice and stares wide-eyed at you. He doesn’t say anything right away and neither do you because seeing him this close and in person is too much.

He is beautiful, in every shape and form, he is beautiful. You’ve never seen such a handsome-looking man before in your life and have no words. Logical thinking went out the window with him and he looks at you with the same expression on his face. You haven’t said more than four words to him but you want him. You want him to look at you and touch you and never stop. Your core flutters at that scandalous thought.

“You scared me there honey. H-how’d you get in here?” He asks with a mischievous grin forming on his face.

“W-w-well I uhhh. Well, I work for the newspaper and I was wondering if I could take a few more pictures of you?” You ask nervously. A long silence fills the room and you are about to turn on your heels and run for the door when he gives you another cheeky smile.

“Sure, I don’t mind at all. What was your name lil’ darlin’?” He asks smoothly.

Lil’ darlin’.

Jesus Christ I’m not going to make it out of here alive with all his charm suffocating me.

“Oh gosh Elvis, thank you so much. This truly means so much to me. And my name is y/n.” You tell him in a hurry. You make sure your camera is on and ready before you look back up at him watching you intently.

“Y/n… that’s very pretty…Where’d you want me, honey?” He coos.

Your heart pounds in your ears and you can’t register anything he just said. All you can do is look at him in shock and can’t believe you’re alone with him. You know how many thousands of girls would kill for a moment like this? And the question he just asked?! Ooh, the sheer audaciousness he has. He knows he's irresistable.

I'd love you to cover me in kisses with those pillowy soft lips...

“Huh?” You say in a daze.

“Where did you wanna take my picture honey? You’re the photographer and all,” he teases. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks and you nervously look down at your camera.

“Oh yeah… sorry… I’ve never really done this,” you admit. His eyebrows shoot up surprised, “First time? Wow, that’s somethin’ for a little lady coming here and coverin’ a story on a day like this. The whole town is making a huge fuss over me, I don’t think deserve it, but it’s very special either way. I’ll make sure to give you the best pictures,” he winks. It feels like your heart just about stopped by that one minuscule movement.

Stop that. Stop that right now!

You sweetly smile up at him and move further into the room, trying to see what angle and lighting would be best. The wall behind him was blue and you thought that would be a perfect backdrop to accentuate the velvet shirt he was wearing and his piercing blue eyes.

“Umm, let’s try with you stand there. I think that would be a nice background,” you say.

He casually takes a few steps back and puts his hands in his pockets.

“Like this?” He asks. You raise the camera to your face, make sure the frame is straight, and push the button.

Click.

He looked good without even trying. He had this golden aura about him. Like he shined from within. He was remarkable and you know that without saying much else to him. Even if you didn’t like him already, you can see the appeal. He was so easy to love. So easy to be around. Everything about him was inviting and warm. You don’t know how you were going to peel yourself away from him…

“Okay, how about one smiling?” You ask. He nods his head and gives you this cute cheeky smile.

Click.

God help me I can’t breathe with this man around looking this good.

“How are they comin’ out honey?” He asks, his southern inflection on honey making you feel like the actual word.

“Oh, just fine. I think they’re going to be amazing when printed,” you try to say casually.

“Oh good… what are you doin’ working for the newspaper?” He asks, fixing the sides of his hair with a comb.

Click.

“I don’t work for the newspaper, not yet at least. I’m just an intern. I’m a student at the University of Mississippi studying journalism and thought it would help to work there for a bit so when I graduate in two years, I can hopefully get a job at a newspaper,” you explain.

He intently looks at you, interested in everything you have to say, “That’s wonderful honey. I think that’s great you’re pursuing that. I don’t doubt for a second you won’t get a job anywhere you apply for,” he says sweetly. You can’t help but blush at his nice words and fiddle with your camera.

“Thank you, Elvis,” you say quietly. He walks over to the sofa that’s up against the wall and casually takes a seat.

He stretches out one arm along the back of the couch and the other rests on the arm of it. His legs were spread open and your eyes can’t help but stare at them. They were so long and he exuded sensuality, it nearly made you dizzy. He sees how you’re looking at him, intrigued with the man that so many found attractive.

You raise the camera to your eye once again as he looks down the lens intensely.

Click.

You felt like screaming like those girls were earlier. You’ve never felt so attracted to someone’s presence. It kind of scared you in a way.

He moves on the sofa slightly, bringing his hand to his mouth and giving you this luring, sultry gaze.

Oh lord, I’m a dead woman…

Click.

He doesn’t change this pose after the flash goes off, he continues to sit there with his eyes drinking you in. Your body can’t take this, the tension in the room is palpable and you are seriously considering running out now since you have plenty of good shots. Elvis slowly starts to lower his hand from his mouth and you see he was biting his lip behind it this whole time. He slowly drags his teeth across it before letting it go with a pop.

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He asks softly.

You can’t hide your flushed cheeks anymore and lower the camera from your face to see if he’s being serious. His eyes look heavy and somber, but he cracks a little grin to lighten the mood.

“Oh, no… not something I normally hear,” you say insecurely.

“That’s a shame darlin’, you really are. You have the most gorgeous smile, beautiful eyes, and the longest legs I’ve ever seen,” he gushes.

I’m dead. I’ve gone to heaven and died. This can’t be happening!

“Well thank you very much. I could say the same for you,” you say coyly.

His eyebrows raise at the blunt remark and chuckles softly to himself. He lowers his hand off the back of the sofa and places it on the empty space beside him, looking at it, then looking back up at you. He doesn’t need to say another word, he pulls you in without trying.

You carefully place your camera on the table and take your bag off your shoulder. You make your way to sit beside him as your heart gallops like a racing horse.

He turns his body a bit to face you more and being this close to him is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You have to hold your breath or he might notice how nervous you are.

“No guy back home telling’ you how pretty you are hmm?” He says, tucking back stands of hair behind your ear. All you can do is shake your head no. His fingertips barely graze the lobe of your ear but it makes you feel weak anyway. The arousal dripping from your core is not helping the situation and not letting you think clearly.

“Oh, well I’m sorry men are so blind over there. I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he quips, giving you a cheeky smile. “The most pretty eyes, the most pretty nose, the most pretty pink lips I’ve ever seen,” he coos, leaning in closer until you can feel his breath on your lips.

You can’t take it anymore and lean in, devouring his lips with yours. You let out a deep breath as your mouth touched his, his lips feeling softer than you could have ever possibly imagined. He was so gentle with his kiss, making sure he wasn’t overstepping your boundaries. But you didn’t care about that. You screamed for more from him. More kisses, more long heated stares, more everything.

You boldly, place your hand on his bicep, pulling yourself closer to him. He responds to your touch and you can tell he likes it. His crushed velvet shirt felt nice underneath your fingertips and felt his toned arms. He places his hand on your cheek, pulling you in with more urgency. You feel breathless, loving the way his skin makes yours feel like it’s on fire.

Elvis softly pulls away, not before biting your bottom lip and letting a sigh slip out of his mouth.

“Those lips darlin’, I could kiss them all day,” he mutters, his eyes heavy with lust.

“What’s stopping you?” You whimper. He grins and pulls you in once more.

You can’t believe any of this is real. The way he is kissing you should not feel so good and yet it does. You put both of your hands on his chest, pulling him closer to you by the collar of his shirt. His hands start to roam along your back, feeling the curve of it and how well this dress fits you. Every inch of you wants his hands placed lower. Right at the spot that is yearning for friction from those perfect hands.

He starts to drag one of his hands to your hip, squeezing there then down the top of your thigh. Need coursed through you and you couldn’t help but open your legs a tad bit. You’re not sure if he noticed, but he let out a pleased hum as he kissed you with more intensity.

You needed to feel him. You needed to feel how soft his skin would be when it’s pressed against yours. Your hand sneaks into his shirt and feel the coarse little chest hairs he had there. You were right, his skin felt perfect and it only made you crave more. You snake your hand lower and onto the top of his thigh. You make the same movements he’s doing to you and you feel his body melt at your touch.

You move your hand a bit lower and go to caress the inside part of his thigh and you freeze.

“Oh…” you moan into his mouth.

What you felt underneath your fingertips made you cry in need of him. Dear God, he was blessed in more ways than one. He was so much longer than you expected and it made your heart leap out of your chest. His cock was warm and fully hard in his pants as your fingertips slowly start to rub against him. You pull away from his lips and have to look at what your hand is feeling.

You were going to die and see the pearly gates if you tried to have that inside of you. But God you didn’t care, you wanted him so bad. You’ve never wanted a man like this in your entire life. Looking up at Elvis, he looks calm and collected, still giving you a heated stare. He looks down at your hand, then back up to you with an innocent look about him.

“You like what you feel baby?” He asks low. You take a deep breath before answering him.

“Y-yes. Yes, I do…” you say softly, your hand moving along him more. He lets out a pleased groan and adjusts his hips slightly, liking the feeling of your touch on him.

“Do you want more? Do you want to feel what it’s like inside of you?” He coos, leaning in for a soft kiss that leaves you dizzy. Your breathing felt erratic and the ache you had in your core only worsened.

“Yes please Elvis… please,” you beg. He smirks at you and kisses your neck, sending a shock of electricity through you.

“Can I see what you’re wearin’ underneath this pretty dress honey?” He asks you. You nod your head and his fingers find the zipper of your dress easily. He slowly pulls it down and pulls down the fabric off the front of your body. You help him slip you out of your dress and sit there with your white bra and panties left on. He lets out a pleased little groan as he sees you sitting there, trembling with need. He gently touches your exposed skin, leaving little goosebumps behind. He touches your breasts gently, biting his lip as both of his hands cup them and start to play with your nipples through the fabric of your bra. You can’t help but lean into his touch loving every second of this.

He places a soft kiss on top of your breast as he reaches around and unclips your bra. He quickly puts one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks on it, groaning as he does so. Your back arches into his mouth, craving so much more from him. His other hand roams your body but only focuses on the top half of you. Your core was dripping with arousal and aching to be touched by those long fingers. You guide one hand between your legs and have him put pressure there.

You gasp instantly, his touch feeling better than you could have imagined but also realize you’ve soaked through your panties. He takes his mouth off of you and pulls away to look down at his hand.

“Fuck honey, how long have you been soaked like this?” He grumbles, his two fingers sliding up and down through your covered folds and creating the most delicious friction.

“Since I saw you moving on that stage,” you admit weakly.

He chuckles softly, “Oh honey, why didn’t you tell me sooner… this pussy just weepin’ for me?” He asks as his fingers slide the elastic of your panties to the side and expose your leaking core to him.

“Yes,” you moan. He nods his head and slowly pushes a finger inside of you. You both groan together, filling you so nicely. Your hips rock into his hand, needing everything he can give you.

You throw your head back as he adds another finger inside of you.

“Elvis,” you moan, your chest heaving for more. He watches you intently, liking how on edge you are for him. His fingers twist and curl inside of you and you gasp for air. He likes what he’s doing and can’t get enough got you either.

“You feel so nice and wet baby. Can I give you my cock now?” He asks.

“Please, I want you Elvis, please give it to me,” you beg, reaching for his belt and unfastening it. He pulls down your panties and you lift your hips to help him get them off. You then work on the button of his pants and slide down the zipper. He lifts his hips up too to take them off and you watch as his cock comes out. Oh God, you were weak by just looking at it. His pink tip was peeking out from his foreskin and clear precum started to dribble down his length. His hand wraps around his length and spreads some of that slickness around the tip of him, moving his hand up and down slowly. You look back into his intense eyes and don’t know what to say.

“You want to ride me, honey?” He asks. The look on your face must have shown the apprehension you had thinking about taking him like that. He rubs his thumb along your cheek and smirks at you.

“It’ll feel so good baby. You’re so wet for me, you’re going to cover my cock in your sweet honey and make us feel so good,” he groans as you watch him swirl his thumb around the tip of his cock. A pent-up moan escapes your lips and quickly straddle his hips, needing him more than ever.

He rubs his length through your folds, covering him in your arousal and making you both moan with the sensation. You hold onto his shoulders and press kisses to his cheek. You feel him line himself up to your entrance and hold your hips. Elvis looks up at you with need and his eyes are begging you to have him. You felt the heat of him pressed there against your entrance and you can’t wait any longer. You start to sink down on his impressive length, moaning as you take the first few inches. He felt so good, filling you so completely and stretching out your tight entrance. He throws his head back onto the couch and groans as you take him, squeezing your hips tightly.

The sounds he makes when he’s getting pleased goes straight to your head. You love the way he groans as you move slowly on him. You never knew you could be so attracted to the sound of a man getting pleased. You take more of him inside you and cry out his name, overwhelmed it can be feeling this good.

“You feel so good, honey. You like how my cock feels inside you?” He groans into your ear. You gasp as his hips move up into you, stuffing more of his length inside of you.

“Yes, oh fuck yes,” you cry out.

You move faster on him, wanting more of him and feeling your walls fluttering each second. His eyes watch how your breasts bounce as you’re riding him, drunk at the very sight of you. You close your eyes, overwhelmed with all the sensations he’s giving you and those eyes only make it worse and worse.

Your hips grind at the base of his cock and you both whimper. Your clit rubs at the base of him and you feel your walls start to clench around him. You ride him harder, chasing the high of your orgasm. You look back into his eyes, desperate for him to help you.

“E-Elvis… oh please,” you beg.

“Come darlin’, I wanna feel you come for me,” he groans as he snaps his hips into you, causing his cock to get deeper inside you.

You whimper in agony, not being able to hold on much longer. His hands are back on your hips and help you move more. Your breathing is ragged and your vision is blurry, you thrust a few more times on him and you feel your body shudder hard. Your walls squeeze around his length and cry out his name like he’s your saving grace. He groans with you, loving how good you feel around him. He helps you rock your hips into him more, making you come more than you ever have in your life. Your head feels dizzy and your body feels like it’s floating. You never knew a man could make you feel this good.

You keep riding him and don’t want to stop. He was still making these sinful sounds that sent a pulse straight to your pussy as you hear him getting pleased by you. He bites his lower lip as he stares at you, beaded sweat gathering at his temples and his breathing becoming more frantic.

“Ah, honey you feel so damn good. I need to come now,” he says gruffly. He picks you up off of him and has you stand in between his open legs. He grabs his cock in his hand once more and starts to jerk himself off, staring at you with need. You wanted to touch him again, feel the warmth of his length fill your hand. You boldly get on your knees and take his hand off of himself. You wrap your small hand around him and his eyes roll back in his head. Your wetness covered his length and made it easy to move your hand on him. You angle his length toward your chest and he bucks his forward and falls apart. His seed comes out in thick, hot, spurts and lands on your chest. He groans loudly and cusses under his breath with each stroke of your hand.

“Oh yes honey, yes,” he moans.

He’s trying to calm down and regain his normal breathing but your thumb continues to tease his extra sensitive head. He groans in agony, loving and hating how you’re playing with him.

“God honey I-I-I ain’t never felt so good,” he sighs. “Come here,” he says opening his arms to you.

You get up and sit on his thigh, your spilling arousal making a mess on him. You wince when you feel the wetness spread on him and look up at him with an innocent smile.

“Sucha messy lil’ girl hmm?” He teases.

“Mhmm, you’re quite messy too,” you quip, looking down at your chest with him covering it.

He laughs amused, “Well, you felt too good what can I say,” he says cutely, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“I had to say thank you in some way for letting me take some pictures of you,” you say shyly.

“Oh, you didn’t need to, but I’m so thankful you did,” he winks.

You kiss each other more, reveling in this moment together, not wanting it to end so soon. But you knew he had other places to be, you couldn’t keep him in here forever.

“I don’t want to keep you from your day. The whole town is so happy you’re here,” you smile.

“Thanks, honey. It’s nice to be celebrated in sucha nice way,” he says caressing your face, “but this might have been my favorite thing I got today.” He says cutely.

“And what’s that?” You ask smartly.

“You, my new favorite reporter.”

Tagging:

@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @loving-elvis @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.@myradiaz@tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938 @50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

#elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presely smut #elvis smut #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis x reader #50s elvis #elvisaaronpresley #elvis imagine #elvis fic #elvis fluff

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watermelonlicker · 1 month ago

Note

https://x.com/a_not_a_/status/1800566567945801850?s=46

Hey! I see you have a lot of interest in the industry but you said you aren’t on twitter. I wanted to send you this thread and get your opinion?

the thread is fucking amazing!!! i’m gonna post a few screenshots below that are stand outs to me:

the fact harry started processing a lot in lockdown SPEAKS VOLUMES and the fact he felt free when he signed his solo contract shows how fucking insidious the x factor contracts were compared to what columbia had to offer and that’s not saying much bcos columbia is still owed by sony this shit is literally a giant web.

i already knew about rebecca’s allegations (another member from 1d’s season to make allegations for my non 1d followers that are curious) but what’s funny is the second screenshot that person tried to say “she doesn’t mean literally” and she was like “but i do…” says it all really when you try to be rational. this shit is not rational. this shit is INSANE. also what she said about the conditioning…. what i’ve been saying. everyone shrugs it off as “that’s just the way the industry works.” ok and you’re the problem.

this is interesting considering how close the boys were to 5sos and they toured with them…. i know ashton tried to clean it up in a later tweet in the thread but lmao we all knew what he fucking meant.

👆🏻 these are demonic and this is literally the winner of the FIRST SEASON like let that sink in. steve was silenced and the x factor was able to carry on for 13 years after. this doesn’t include simon’s other shows. and the last screenshot?? how easily he was threatened with a fake story but larries are crazy ok.

and this i mean??? louis walsh has literally slandered them for years so im not even shocked by this. also look at them referencing simon as the mafia when

I JUST SAID IT like…………. this shit is cosmic & the sad part about it all is the people who have read this/will read it, (especially the antis who stalk us) will still say we’re conspiracy theorists and still call us delusional. they will never believe otherwise until harry & louis say it themselves but the kicker is they know they can’t.

some of those x factor contracts are in perpetuity unless something lifts. it’s a sad reality but when we all die i want someone in 2089 to look back at our accounts, they’ve probably learned the truth by then, and they’ll realize how much people accept artificial realities for their comfort. people are angered by the truth for a reason. they don’t want to deal with it.

they call it invasive, harassment, everything you can think of to paint us as the villains instead of simon and his minions despite their victims speaking out time and again, all saying the same story.

like i said since ive started being vocal, for me it’s not just about the ship or for the expectation of a “coming out” as an award. what happened to 1d and being amongst larries is what helped me recognize after i left the fandom the homophobia and gaslighting my religious zealot family put me and my siblings through.

how they groomed and brainwashed us and told us things like “it’s for the best, you’ll save your soul, it’s god’s will, it is what it is, it’s spreading the good news” FUCK THAT. the only good news is exposing evil for what it is. exposing it so the next person doesn’t have to experience trauma of that magnitude from someone they were fooled into trusting. so the next person can be encouraged to be themselves from the start and not carry that baggage with them and end up hurting people they love. so they can have a goddamn chance.

#lord i am so slow with asks bcos it takes me like 30 fucking mins to answer one #i have so many things to say #mail #demonic music industry #closeting #simon FOUL

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th3overthink3r · 1 year ago

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My brother is obsessed with TTG, and I am baffled. We binged it, and I looked around in the... Fandom? I know the show is lighthearted, but I'm a psychology nerd.

Btw I binged it with him in the name of sibling bonding.

Tw: Abuse, neglect, shitty people in general, mind conzrol and trauma. Progress with caution.

Not many people talk about the abuse Robin faces. I don't understand why is there basicaly no angsty content.

I also want to scoop that boy up and hug him and take him away from those people that surround him.

This boy has no positive influence in his life. Get him a therapyst.

He's neglected. I was sick watching this.

WHAT THE HELL DUDE this was genuinely hard to watch, and even the colour coded idiots aknowledge how badly he was treated.

Oh but they don't get away scott free. The little idiots.

They constantly hurt him (which I noticed is a reocurring joke, but it happens to him so constantly that it's not even humour. It's just... painful.)

What the fuck was that prank?

Considering I know his backstory pretty well (look, I watch enough dc), this prank just makes me want to cry. He smiles. His smile broke my heart. I genuinely started crying, alonside Robin. It was not a nice experience.

So they clearly don't have a problem with triggering traumatic responses.

Robin is also almost always the butt of the joke, even tough he is the leader nobody respects him.

Which would be understandable if he didn't try his damn hardest. He's resourceful and can make the best of a situation.

Like the time he got dance powers (which is just amazing, holy shit I want dance powers).

He found great use of an othervise "useless" pover.

Speaking of useless, his "friends" look down on him because he has no powers. Even though he is capable of beating all of them without it.

Yknow, like in the movie.

Oh yeah, nice recall to the movie the one where they competed with the Super Hero Girls team (love that show).

Y'know, where it started like this

And ended like this in like, five seconds.

Abandonment issues go brrr:

He's my angsty boy.

Also, the fact that he answered mind control on the last question, and it wasn't even on the board, broke something in me.

Him being a "control freak" is also played up for jokes, which I personally hate, but you can also go with the route of the Titans just not listening, ever, and Robin, still raised by the batman even if differently than in canon, in a city where if you are not on top you are dead, it's obvious that he developed an instictive need for control. He had gotten used to being on top of every situation, so when he felt that control slip, he grasped it and held on. This behaviour is not good, but he can't help it, and without proper consuling, he won't be able to stop this behaviour. He could, if he just let go of the illusion of control he clings to, a safety net, and we all know one can not simply just do that.

(I was someone people called a "control freak". I worked on myself, and I changed, but it took years after I noticed. Letting go is the hardest thing people like me and him can do because letting go means losing control, and that can be the scariest thing in the world. So I have experience, yes.)

For the hitting... Wild hot take and shit: Since Batsy was not a stellar dad, he kept robin in line by means not so family-friendly. (He hit his kids in canon, it's really OOC for him, but we have proof that happened) And it was really effective. Children of abusive parents go a lot of ways, but repeating the parents' mistakes is one of them. So maybe Robin decided that violence might be the thing to keep his teammates in line. (We are circleing back yeah.) But it clearly didn't work.

(Yes, I also have experience. No, I am not going to talk about it, but it wasn't physical, don't worry)

Edit: Holy shit I just realized that this Robin is all of the worst qualities of the other Robins. Obsessive, Controlling, full of himself, violent, and then throw their insecurities into there too (Abandonment issues, parental issues, anxiety, paranoia). Holy lady.

Edit2: Thank you, Yurki-posts, for pointing out some things my little rant was missing. I shall update it now.

#ttg robin angst #ttg teen titans to #ttg robin #ttg starfire #ttg beast boy #ttg cyborg #ttg raven #tw abuse #tw neglect #tw trauma #get poor boy a fucking therapyst #he's in a toxic enviorment smh #So many personal experiences I share with the guy.#man #My life is depressing.#But it makes me a great writer so I think I got a sweet deal out of it.

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rivereverie · 4 days ago

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Just a personal post about my experience on this site

The only social media I’ve ever really used my whole life has been YouTube and Pinterest, and I only joined Tumblr a few months ago because my sibling encouraged me to. The internet has always kind of been an overwhelming place for me; too many people, too many ideas. And I used to get really insecure when interacting with or even perceiving fandom. I struggled a lot with the feeling of “I really love this piece of media/character, and the fact that other people love it too makes me feel like it’s somehow an intrusion upon my profoundly personal connection with this thing” (thankfully I've mostly grown out of that). Online spaces made the world feel too big and me feel too small. Maybe a part of the reason I joined Tumblr was to combat that. I often felt a little like the odd one out in that the internet was never this place of community and connection for me like it is for so many others. I’ve always just felt overwhelmed by it. Now, I’ve curated a nice little corner of the internet for myself, although I do have to keep things in check sometimes and not overwhelm myself through overexposure to content.

Since joining the site and creating this blog, I’ve learned a lot. I have a lot of bad days when I second-guess my wording in every post I make (which I know is silly, because I just make fandom content and random stuff that only a few people will ever see, so the stakes are incredibly low, but anxiety doesn’t care). I have days where the world still feels too big and it's overwhelming to look at posts. But I’ve also begun to learn to express myself more, and that’s vital for me, especially as an autistic person learning to unmask more in my daily life. It feels silly to say that being on this site has been a rollercoaster, but that’s the truth of how I feel. This whole experience has forced me to confront my issues with self-expression, my relationship with external validation and people-pleasing, rejection-sensitive dysphoria, and figuring out healthy self-regulation. Again I feel very silly saying all this about Tumblr of all things. But it’s true.

That's not even to mention how freeing and encouraging it has felt to see how shamelessly people express themselves on here. It's a landscape of radical self-expression, fearless passion, and a kind of transparency I haven't really seen anywhere else. As someone who has repressed myself all my life and am doing the work to unmask more... I can only look on in awe. It's nothing short of inspiring and beautiful, in all it's unfiltered, deranged glory. Thank you to all the people who are openly unhinged on here, because it makes this a safe space for everyone else to express themselves, too. I aspire to that.

All this has also shown me that people are much kinder than I always expect them to be. People here listen to what I have to say, and most are so encouraging and welcoming. Having a few mutuals who always at least like my posts makes me feel… seen. Like I exist and someone else cares at least enough to take a second to give a little positivity. (Shout out to my very kind mutuals. You all always brighten my day when we get to chat in the comments. It genuinely means a lot to me). Not to be too vulnerable, but I've always struggled a lot to make friends, and while I may not be there yet, it’s been lovely to connect with anyone at all. Just getting to like and comment on other people’s posts feels like a nice bit of socialization in my day, however small it may be. It's really encouraging. Makes me feel more human, I suppose.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I went outside my comfort zone in joining this site, and really realized that (shockingly) going outside your comfort zone does in fact lead to growth. That is, when you don’t push too far and end up overwhelmed. I’m looking forward to growing more. Making posts about things I care about, or just nonsense. Writing fanfiction. Being feral about bg3 and other art I love. It’s all really been pushing me in a good way. Maybe someone else relates.

#personal stuff #might delete later #everything feels like oversharing but maybe that's anxious brain talking #or maybe it IS oversharing and maybe that's okay actually #personal rant #in the spirit of radical expression this is radical to me right now

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lej222 · 5 months ago

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OMG I read your pinned post and I am so mind blownnnn! (Although it was a lot of info and I'm still somewhat confused) I never knew this story was so deep, but anywho I've been a HUGE aslfua since forever and now that the hiatus has come I do have a question?? Do you think that cheol and miae will end up together? (And the other characters such as jinseop and song-I since it did seem in some chapters that she liked him??) Since you did mention of miae being late(from what i understood) and Like a lot of the fandom ships them together but I've been reading other posts this just might be a story based on miae's growing up experiences of friendships and youth but idk i might just be thinking to hard but I can't get this question out of my head!! 💔

Thank you, you're kind :)

Do I think they will end up together? I believe it's possible, but it can also happen that they won't. I talked about this in previous posts, but ever since I started noticing a certain supernatural element in the story, I thought that the ending can go 2 ways, depending on Soonkki's intentions. Let's assume that the narrator, the being in Miae's dreams and the one responsible for controlling the weather/objects/some words of other people is actually the same entity. And it has been trying to communicate with Miae ever since the first chapters when Miae had a weird feeling that Cheol's shoe understood her words. In fact, looks like she paid more attention to these signs at the beginning of the story when she even highlighted her coincidental meetings with Cheol. So maybe that's why this higher power didn't attempt to talk to her directly. But what has it been doing recently? Telling her she's late, that she should have no regrets, smacking her in the face with flyers about changing one's car, reacting to Jisu's presence as if it likes him. Another interesting detail is that Jisu is also directly linked to it because he has noticed its presence, at one point he even wonders to Miae if there's some higher power involved in their chance meetings. My point is, this entity has powers beyond human comprehension that allows it to enter Miae's consciousness and even explode the lights. If we also assume it's aware of a certain order in which things have to happen (or in other words, the destiny or future of certain characters - the universe symbolism is probably connected to this), then what's happening now in the story is the culmination of these events.

BUT!

As I mentioned, from how the story has been progressing, this can go 2 ways:

This supernatural power is warning Miae that her time with Cheol is short so she should have no regrets. Miae cannot take a picture with Cheol because the one in her dresser will be the photo to stay with her when she finds it, the photo that symbolizes their beginnings and what they felt at that time. The reason for them drifting apart is probably outside of their scope of knowledge, like one of them moving away. This is something that was set in stone from the beginning and cannot be changed. Miae and Cheol are not honest about their feelings and the narrator always points out when it happens, that's why it says Miae should have no regrets, because if they have to separate after saying everything they wanted, they won't regret it in the future. A soft fatalistic approach would be the answer to this scenario in which humans have some control over their destiny, but there are things that are predetermined. How Miae and Cheol handle their relationship might be the result of their own free will, but them not working out is set in stone, or it is set in stone because they keep missing their chances even though they had opportunities. Given how the narrator gives chance encounters to Jisu as well, in this case he might be Miae's future husband for all we know.

The narrator knows a possible future, we don't know if it's truly predetermined, even if it has very strong powers. For some reason, it doesn't like Miae's indecisiveness and vague statements, so it gave up on her and wants her to move on. However, Miae's free will can overwrite the higher being's deterministic approach. By choosing her own destiny, Miae can be with Cheol and fight this power. Jisu won't be Miae's future husband, but only someone who has helped her to grow and mature as a person. Miae's love for Cheol is what changes her own destiny.

Like you mentioned, I also view this series as a growth story. So for me, the romantic outcome is secondary. I wouldn't mind any of the options I listed as long as they have a satisfying conclusion that has a message about the whole series.

Edit: I just realized I haven't answered about Jinseop. Right now, I think Song I deserves better, Jinseop seems like the type of kid who doesn't know who he wants to be and that's why he's hanging around with bullies. He is changing in the right direction, but I didn't like how he was toying with Song-I's feelings and he even called her boring. I think maybe in the future, if he learns to appreciate people like her, they could try to be together, but right now he's very immature even though I like him as a character and he's really funny. Song I is an angel she deserves someone who appreciates her kindness.

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my-soul-sings · 19 days ago

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afloat: ch 2

Fandom: Love and Deepspace Characters: Rafayel/Reader

Summary: "Teach me how to swim.”

// You knew where you stood, behind the line that clearly separated you from him: a princess betrothed to another, and a talented, handsome artist, free to explore the world as he wished.

But with each step you took into the waters, that same line grew murkier, and there would soon be no turning back.

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 (coming soon)

*See replies to this post for the AO3 link.

+++++++++++++

The afterlife was always a mystery to you. No one ever returned to tell the tale, and you had always thought it would just be an end to everything: no more pain, no more feelings, and certainly no more experiences in a heaven or a hell that others seemed to believe in.

But of all the things it could have been, you certainly didn’t expect the afterlife to look so much like the place where you died. Or with any sort of company by your side.

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself laying on your back, staring up at a familiar night sky. You didn’t have time to appreciate it at all however, because in the next second you were sputtering at the acrid taste of saltwater in your mouth. You sprung up, coughing up more water and trying to catch your breath.

Then you felt a hand on your back, patting it as if to soothe your coughing. You turned to your left, and found a young man next to you, worry clear in his eyes. He had wavy purple hair and was dressed in a white tunic and blue pants… much like the man you had seen just the day before.

So, you hadn’t been hallucinating after all.

“Here. It’s water.” He handed you a canteen, and you accepted it without question, gulping it down to soothe your scorching throat.

“Drink slowly,” you heard him say, and you reluctantly dropped your pace to avoid choking. It wasn’t until the container was empty that you returned it to him, while mumbling an apology for finishing it down to the last drop.

“Where are we?” you asked him then, and he stared at you, confused.

“Do you… not remember falling into the sea earlier?”

“Yes, but I thought I died, and that this is the afterlife and that you’re… a merman or something…” you watched as his expression changed from one of confusion to complete bewilderment, before adding, “...or, maybe we’re both alive and human?”

He let out a sigh of relief. “You had me worried for a second there.”

Okay, so that was a good start. You were alive and well, and presumably he had been the one who had saved you, if his drenched clothes were any indication.

“Did you jump in to save me?” you asked, as he raked his wet hair back, drops of seawater dripping down the sides of his face and from his chin.

“Nope, I was just minding my own business and enjoying a swim when someone landed in the water nearby and gave me a heart attack.” He started coughing then, fist pounding lightly against his chest. “It’s been a while since I last choked on seawater like that.”

“Sorry,” you muttered with a grimace. “And thank you. For saving me. I didn’t think anyone would be here. It’s supposed to be closed off and no one else knows about this place…”

Your voice trailed off as realisation dawned on you. Right. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone here.

“Who are you, anyway? You were here yesterday, right? How did you get here?”

A string of questions came flooding out instead, and he seemed to regard you with some amusement before answering them in succession.

“Name’s Rafayel. Yes, I was here yesterday, and I came by boat.”

Your guard lowered a little at the way he was so forthcoming with his answers. The next question you had followed naturally. “Why?”

“It’s quiet, and I like to paint here,” he replied nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just committed a grave crime by trespassing in here. “Like you said, no one knows about this place, so it’s been easy to get in and get out.”

You really should have the guards look into the security of the palace, but that could come after you left for Yaryn.

“Well, you shouldn’t come here anymore, Rafayel. The guards will take you for a criminal if you’re found.”

Rafayel only smiled at that, entirely unperturbed despite your concern. “Don’t worry, princess. They won’t find me.”

“How… How did you know who I am?”

He merely shrugged. “You’re famous around these parts, especially with the news of your betrothal to the crown prince of Yaryn. The people are celebrating; it means they’ll have better days ahead now.”

You looked away at that, a half-smile lifting your lips. “I see. Glad to hear it.”

A moment of silence passed as Rafayel studied you keenly. “For someone so ‘glad’, you seem unhappy. Why?”

“I’m… not,” you denied, bringing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around your shoulders for want of warmth. The evening wind was starting to feel chilly against your wet skin.

“Hmm.” Rafayel sat quietly next to you, not inquiring further or saying anything else as he stared out at the ocean together with you. It felt strange to have company like this for the first time.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? The ocean, I mean.”

“It is,” you agreed with a sigh. “But I won’t get to see this once I leave.”

“Yeah, you won’t. Yaryn’s all the way up in the mountains, or so I’ve heard.”

“Yes, it is. Far, far away from the ocean.”

“You could always jump off a mountain cliff next time, instead of a rock.”

Despite it being at your expense, you couldn’t help but laugh, and when you turned you realised Rafayel was staring at you, lips turned up in a smile.

“You’re finally smiling.”

Your smile faltered as you caught yourself. Then you turned away hastily, as you felt heat begin to spread in your cheeks.

“I-I should go.” You stood to leave, and the man followed suit. “You should leave soon, too. I’m not sure if the guards patrolling come here at night, but it’s better to be safe and leave while you can.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself. After you, princess.” With an elegant bow, Rafayel extended his arm in the direction back to the palace. You went ahead, combing your fingers through your messy hair in an effort to look more presentable, lest you ran into anyone on the way back to your bedchambers. You’d have to think of a way to get back stealthily, especially since it was so late; your father may have ordered the guards to search for you by now.

Your chest began to feel heavy again with the weight of the worries and responsibilities that you’d be returning to. But despite being in a rush to return, you couldn’t help but turn back.

There Rafayel stood, watching as you left.

“I suppose… I’ll be seeing you here again tomorrow?” you asked.

He shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. “Dunno. Will you be showing up with the guards to take me away?”

You pretended to consider it. “I won’t, on one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You have to show me one of your paintings tomorrow.”

“What, you don’t believe my cover story?”

Shrugging, you replied, “I’ve only known you for less than an hour. I’ll need some proof that you’re not a fraud. Surely you’ll have a painting or two to show me if you’re telling the truth.”

If Rafayel were a sham, he’d be panicking by now, but the man remained composed. Amused, even, by your proposition. Clearly, he was confident.

“That’s fine by me, although I thought that saving you today would have earned me amnesty for my visits here.”

“Only for today and yesterday,” you replied. “So, do we have a deal?”

He nodded, waving you off. “As you wish, princess.”

Satisfied, you turned to leave, already anticipating your meeting with this peculiar man again the next day.

+++++++++++++

The next sunset arrived, and you found yourself staring at a disappointingly blank, white canvas.

“So you really are a fraud,” you muttered beneath your breath, shooting a pointed look at Rafayel who continued to busy himself with setting up his paints beside him on the sand. If he heard your remark, he simply chose to ignore it and only glanced at you briefly to gesture for you to sit in front of him on the sand.

You complied, settling down in a comfortable position and waiting for Rafayel to explain himself.

Five minutes passed, and the man was still mixing colours on his wooden palette.

Patience was really not one of your virtues, so you began huffing and sighing, hoping he would take a hint. All you got in return was a tiny smirk curling his lips upward, but his gaze remained resolutely fixed to his paints and the canvas before him.

“So…” you began, breaking the silence eventually, “what exactly are you doing?”

“I’m painting.”

“You said you’d show me one.”

“If I had brought a painting with me, you might think that I had bought it from somewhere and you’d still think I’m a fraud.”

That was… a surprisingly reasonable argument. You could only blink while he continued.

“So I thought, why not paint something on the spot? There’s no witness more reliable than the princess herself.”

“Sure,” you replied, voice flat. “Then, what are you planning to paint?”

“I have a few ideas.” He held out his fist, holding up fingers as he listed them down.

“You sprawled out on the beach like washed up seaweed, you flailing around in the water like an octopus, or maybe you falling off the rock— hey!”

His canvas rattled in place, shuddering from where you’d just smacked it nearly clean off the little easel Rafayel had prepared. He swiftly grabbed it, ceasing its movements and returning it to its original position, before narrowing his eyes in your direction. He met your glare, and had the cheek to burst into a fit of laughter.

“Not funny,” you retorted, considering grabbing a fistful of sand and hurling it his way. But you collected yourself, mindful that it wasn’t at all how a princess should behave.

“I was just joking, princess. But, I do have something in mind. You’ll just have to sit there for a while.”

“You’re… painting my portrait?” Dread filled you immediately. Portrait painting with the court-appointed artist could take an entire day of staying still in one spot without moving. It usually ended with your muscles being too stiff to move and you’d have trouble sleeping the next few days. You certainly weren’t about to camp out here on the beach overnight and alone with this strange man.

His pupils moved skyward, lips twisting as he thought about his reply. “Something like that. Don’t worry, you can still move around and I won’t take too long.”

“Okay…” Doubt laced your voice but you decided to play along for now. Rafayel’s expression turned more serious then, as he began painting in earnest. You thought it would be silent for a while and that you’d be bored out of your mind while waiting for him to finish, but it didn’t stay that way for long.

“So tell me, what do you like about the ocean?”

“What?”

His gaze shifted from the canvas to you. “You seem to enjoy coming out here just to stare at the sea. There must be something you like about it.”

Oh. He had a point, but for some reason you hesitated as you wondered why exactly you were drawn to this place since the day you found it. Come to think of it, you never had a reason for liking the ocean; you had never even been more than knee-deep in the waters before.

Or maybe, there was a reason, just that it was something you had forgotten about or brushed off as something insignificant.

“There’s no big story or mystery behind it,” you answered eventually. “And it’s stupid. You’ll laugh at me again.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“Liar.”

“I won’t. I can’t anyway, or I’ll ruin my work here.”

You supposed that was good enough.

“When I was little,” you began, warily eyeing him to watch for any laugh lines on his face, “I found a fish washed up on the shore.”

“I see. Did you eat it?”

“No!” you exclaimed, horrified. “I put it back in the ocean, obviously.”

“How charitable. The fish must have been thankful to you for saving its life.”

“I wouldn’t know. I never saw it again,” you replied wistfully. “But I remember going to the beach every day after that, hoping I’d catch a glimpse of its scales. And every day I wondered where it might have gone. Perhaps it lived in an underwater kingdom, a place that no human knew about. Then I thought about how big the ocean is, when I saw that it stretches all the way to the far horizon… and I thought, how nice it would be if I could be a fish too. I’d be able to swim and explore the ocean every day, count all the different fish that live in there, and maybe even find out if mermaids and sirens do exist...”

You trailed off then, heat rushing to your cheeks when you remembered that you had just gone off on an entire monologue about such fantastical, frivolous things to someone you barely knew.

“Sorry, I got carried away. You must think I’m crazy.”

Rafayel shook his head. “Not at all.” He sounded like he meant it. “Go on.”

You toyed with the hem of your skirt, hesitating as the words teetered on the edge of your lips.

“I… used to have the same, recurring dreams when I was a child. I don’t remember many details of it now, but it was always about the ocean.”

“What about it?” he prodded.

“I was in a city — or maybe it was a kingdom — that was built underwater. The fish could talk, and there were mermaids everywhere. But they weren’t called mermaids. And I could breathe and talk in the water just like everything else.”

You paused then, gauging Rafayel’s reaction from your limited view of his face, which was mostly obscured by the canvas.

“Do you remember anything else from your dream?” You thought he would find your words amusing, but there was no mockery in his voice, only sincere curiosity.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t give him a satisfactory answer. “No,” you replied, shaking your head somewhat ruefully, “it’s been so long that I can barely remember what it looked like. All I remember is that in my dream, I found the ocean so, so beautiful.”

You looked past Rafayel, to the waves dancing on the shore behind him. “Sometimes, I wish I could see it again.”

“Well,” he quipped, catching your attention once more, “I might be able to help with that.”

Rafayel set his paintbrush down, and with a charming smile, turned the canvas around to reveal his newly finished work.

Your breath was stolen at that moment.

It felt like you had stepped into the world of that old, forgotten dream once more. It was deep within the ocean where the sun couldn’t reach but where a fire continued to burn bright and everlasting like the sun itself. Schools of different-coloured fish filled the clear blue waters, and figures of mermaids and mermen in the distance made the colour of the ocean shine vibrantly.

“Lemuria.”

Your eyes shifted, gaze falling onto the man before you. That foreign word stirred something deep within you; tugged at your heartstrings, but you couldn’t figure out why.

“What’s that?” you asked, resisting the urge to clutch at your chest to ease the dull ache throbbing against your ribcage.

“The name of this piece,” Rafayel answered, handing the canvas to you. You accepted it, fingers hovering over the drying paint, careful not to disturb the colours that shone in the setting sun.

"It’s beautiful.” It felt like a part of you had been returned, with your memory of that dream restored. Strange. It was just a dream, yet somehow it felt real. Like there really was an underwater kingdom that existed in the depths of the waters below.

You could hear Rafayel speaking, but it felt like there was water in your ears, muting the sound of the world around you as you tried to tap into that memory more. It felt like you might just think of something if you just tried a bit harder, but you were startled out of it when you felt Rafayel’s hand on your shoulder.

“You alright?”

“Oh— Y-Yes. Yes, I’m fine. What were you saying earlier?”

“I was saying, I hope that means I’ve proven that I’m not a fraud. And that I’ve been pardoned for my past, present and future visits to this place,” Rafayel told you.

“If I say ‘yes’, does that mean I’ll see you again?” you asked him, perhaps sounding a little too hopeful.

“Sure. If that’s what you wish for, princess.”

He extended a hand to you, patiently waiting as you slipped your hand into his, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours. It reminded you of the warmth of the waters in Lemuria — the world in that painting of his.

You parted ways with a promise to meet again, and that night you found yourself dreaming of Lemuria, of a time when you could explore the ocean freely, and of a Lemurian’s tail — the same colour as the tail that you had caught a glimpse of that day when you nearly drowned.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel #rafayel fanfiction #love and deepspace fanfiction #my writing #afloat

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azrielsbreedingkink · 1 month ago

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I want your opinion on this:

I feel like the difference between the two sides of the ACOTAR fandom is that one side defends characters whose actions might have been somewhat questionable while trying to do something good or for the greater good, while the other side defends characters whose actions have hurt the people who loved them, for no real reason.

For instance...supporters of Tamlin or Nesta or Lucien, they usually have to mention all their trauma (which all ACOTAR characters have) to excuse the things they did. At the same time, they ignore everyone else's (especially the IC's) trauma, while trying to take every single action of theirs out of context to try and make them seem evil. Even though everything the IC has done has had a good intention behind it. They have also saved the whole world, including their favorite characters and people still be excessively hateful towards every slightly negative thing they ever did.

Meanwhile Tamlin, Nesta, Lucien have hurt people that loved them without a reason-whether that was jealousy or control or lack of empathy or anything like that, they harmed those who cared about them because they felt the right to.

I want to know what you think about this, because you seem smart in how I see you talk in other blogs.

Oh thank you anon 🥰

The loudest of their fans are almost always acting like they did nothing wrong. Why shouldn’t Nesta drink every night? The IC drinks wine all the time! Why shouldn’t have Tamlin locked Feyre up? He was right that Hybern came after her!! That’s not abuse!!!!!! And in order to further push this, they are ALWAYS pushing this evil IC agenda. If your fav is so great, why do you need to tear apart every other character? It’s almost like the narrative doesn’t agree with your feelings.

Tamlin stans are the worst at this. To be fair, there are normal people out there who like Tamlin but are respectful that people don’t, I literally follow one of them cause their content is great! No, I’m talking about those ones. They’re aggressive as fuck for no reason, seemingly taking personal offense that anyone would DARE hate poor baby tam tam. They HATE Feyre because she dared to leave him, even though she was so traumatized from the experience she went into fight or flight during the HL meeting. They don’t care. These people cant understand why she left in the first place, and they make it everyone else’s problem.

At the end of the day, the venn diagram of people who love tam/nesta and are IC haters is a circle. I truly believe that they are the toxic ones in the fandom. Anyone who expects me to hate every single main character is not someone I want to engage with. Anyone who spends their time writing dissertations on how Rhysand has an Oedipus complex genuinely needs to touch grass. You can’t convince me otherwise.

And I didn’t include Lucien in there because I’m completely neutral on his character and I haven’t actually seen any absurd behavior from his stans, but if you do please feel free to apply my feelings from above lol. I do believe he will have a happy ending in the next book. Just not with Elain lol.

#I could go into why they hate every character but I don’t think we have the time #ic haters are the real problem!!!#let’s set aside our differences and kick their annoying asses OUT #You’re all annoying #anyway thanks anon for the question!!#acotar #sjm #fandom bullshit #a court of thorns and roses #pro feyre #pro rhysand #pro ic #antis learn to read challenge #anti tamlin #anti antis

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icryink · 7 months ago

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Hi! Do you have written explanations for the Cringetober themes? I understand you already have made a video where you explain the themes but because English is not my first language it's sometimes hard to understand everything from just speech.

I didn’t until 2 minutes ago, but here they are!

screenshot redraw - something easy we have screenshot redraw, this can be from a TV show or cartoon or movie or whatever. you can replace the characters or just redo it in your own style

tsundere - a tsundere is the trope where a character, usually a girl, pretends to find their love interest annoying out of embarrassment for their crush

oversized prop - pretty straight forward. love a good disproportional hammer

fursona / fursuit - first bit of encouragement to explore outside 2D illustration. i know full suits are expensive, so let this be your sign to make or design a partial yourself out of whatever you have lying around; cardboard, fabric and wire, even paper. of course, you can stick to drawing your fursona

gjinka - it's a humanization of anything, whether that be a pokemon or other monster character, an animal, a concept or emotion like inside out, an object or even something like an app

unnatural eye color - fairly straightforward, character with weird eyes

crossover - characters from different media interacting with one another

dead meme - perfect opportunity for people like me who see a meme or trend going around and then, by the time they get around to it, its well run its course

childhood videogame - this can be any game you played when you were younger, but i was specifically thinking of stuff like pokemon, sonic, mario, minecraft, five nights at freddy's, or undertale

ship dynamics - a relationship dynamic or overused cliche

5+1 things - fairly common trope in fanfiction, it refers to a character or characters experiencing 5 similar events that all go roughly the same way, as well as another similar event that this time ends up pretty different. it can be happy or sad, and of course you can stick to a comic or illustration, but fanfiction or creative writing in general is often looked down upon, so i think y’all should at least try to write something

hatsune miku / vocaloid - any vocaloid, doesn’t have to be part of the main vocaloid suite. people make cool interpretations of hatsune miku’s design specifically, but you can do any character you’d like

rule 63 - for every male character, there exists a female counterpart, and for every female character, there exists a male counterpart. basically, genderbends

incorrect quote - you can depict a character (original or not) saying any kind of iconic quote that you think suits them

animation meme - most classic animation memes are actually really simple with somewhat jerky movements, which is ideal for those just starting animation. if you've always wanted to animate but the concept seemed too daunting, here's the opportunity for you! of course, you can just reference popular animation memes with a still image if you’d prefer

something you've been bullied for - there are a lot of things that are considered cringe that a person can't change about themselves, even if they want or try to. i didn't want to single out any specific insecurities, so i left it broad enough for it to apply to everyone. it's kind of like a free space to celebrate anything about yourself that you've felt ashamed of

f2u base - f2u stands for 'free to use', basically an empty sketch you can use to draw whatever characters you want. this can be interpreted as either making or using a free base, so do whichever one you'd prefer. if you're using a base, just remember to credit the original artist if you post it

Fandom AU - good simple fun. draw characters you like from a piece of media you like in any alternate universe you like

alternative fashion - your opportunity to experiment with a fashion style you've always thought was cool but were too nervous to try. alternatively, (haha) draw a character in alt fashion

tumblr sexywoman - a female character that is, for whatever reason, incredibly popular and found attractive

closet cosplay - build a cosplay using only things you already have in your closet! I wanted to encourage people to get into cosplay since it’s such a fun hobby

candygore - gory drawings that involve pastel colors and sometimes literal candy iconography

adult cartoons - cartoons intended for older audiences, ex. Hazbin Hotel, Smiling Friends, Amazing Digital Circus

niche interest - another free space that lets you make something relating to a pretty unpopular or not very well known thing that you really like

gacha life (I spelled it wrong on the list) - it’s a website where you can design characters and move them around and make up stories. it was super influential for a lot of artists

Y/N or Mary Sue - could be a male Mary Sue too. A very overpowered, perfect character. Alternatively, you can interpret this as literally “your name” and insert yourself into whatever media you want

YouTuber fanart - do some fanart for a YouTube channel you enjoy, whether that be for an art channel, a commentary or video game youtuber, or sketch comedy

mascot horror - anything relating to horror that involves cute marketable characters. FNAF, poppy playtime, Amanda the adventurer are all some examples

experimental makeup - trying out a makeup style that you haven’t done before. of course, if you aren’t comfortable wearing makeup, you can totally draw a character experimenting with their own makeup style

supernatural or monster character - demon, vampire, werewolf, fairy, or any monster type character you can think of

HALLOWEEN - anything spooky to celebrate Halloween!!

While I hope this compilation was useful, please remember that all the prompts are completely up to interpretation. There are no rules to Cringetober! Just do whatever you want and have fun :)

#cringetober #cringetober 2024 #ask #text

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poet-to-none · 15 days ago

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I find myself feeling I should look over what's personally passed, as a creative person. A reflection of what's ended, if you will. A question of where am I today.

My reflection begins in the season of autumn, in the months that carry many memories of negative changes in my life. As a sign that thrives on change, and a future oriented personality type, I usually harvest the potential of it, going through these times standing on my feet and in the direction I intend to go.

I'll give you an example of some of these fun and fantastic autumns I've had though. They've included sudden loss of my childhood friends, loss of a parent and sibling, loss of a 10 year friendship I'd have kept for life. So on this particular autumn, loss of twitter, bought and sold and destined to fall apart, can sit among them as hardly a stress, in comparison. But anyway, at this time it's happening, the writing's on the wall for me to leave, and I'm resisting it.

I'm flirting, in fact, with switching fandoms, moving my attention from Hannibal to the Vampire Chronicles. At this time, there's two choices, two pots boiling with activity. . . it's more or less, try the books or the show. Choose to experience one or the other. I choose to pick up a book. I go on a journey. It's a halloween kind of mood. It's a great idea.

Luckily I have a long suffering friend I can crack jokes to as I read, just show up unanounced in their DMs to ramble, and the experience of reading IWTV/TVL/QOTD is unbelievably wild. Entertaining- yes, weird-yes, but it's psychologically and intellectually enriching.

I finish in time to join my watchmates, as the show episodes begin to release weekly. Unlike reading the books, the show itself lends toward triggering my traumas and its flair/talented co-stars can't make up for unappealing writing choices. It doesn't even take place in the correct century, which is a big deal if your genre is vampire story. Like, if they're not born when they're written to be born, isn't that stopping the whole character worldview from forming? I think so at least. The author of the novels I just read had a personal library of historical research materials, and period writing supportive hobbies, and whatever these script writers have in comparison feels like a yawn and a hope to fake it until they make it. But who knows if that impression is true. Not worth my time to know.

I stop at episode 5, I tell my watchmates my will to go on has given out. So I return to resisting leaving twitter, as is my right, and I begin to see the start of a show fandom. It's an interesting event in itself, for an extroverted feeling type. Multitudes of people with intense feelings beginning to interact and get creative. It's the emotional euphoria equivalent to a fountain of drugs, out there for free. I have seen OFMD rise into being. Or do I say I have felt it? Anyway. Show fans exist now.

Funnily enough, Armand/Old Daniel shippers exist now. The show, despite physically aging Daniel to 69-70ish, separating his narrative from Armand, having Louis declare the true love of his life to be Armand, actually lost the battle of preventing it. If that was their aim?

I'm beyond amused. I'm giddy. I convince myself to approach watching episodes 6-7, skipping most of the Lestat/Louis/Claudia scenes. I discover I love this one bit of the show, it doesn't have a teenager, it doesn't have domestic abuse and sexual vilolence, it's not triggering. I toss caution to the wind, I sketch and paint Old Daniel and Armand getting nasty with each other. I scatter my likes to the wind on thirst posts. I read some fics. I have a good time. But it does not fill the far deeper need of a new chapter in my fandom life.

I begin to think seriously about that. There's still the books fandom. What about the books do I love most? The Vampire Lestat, obviously. What about the Vampire Lestat do I love most? Well. The anticipation of who would make Lestat a vampire. And holy shit, his turning really fucking delivered, not at all in the way I expected. But frustratingly, the vampire who sires him, anticipated and enjoyed, is also a narrative trojan horse. He stops existing after he gets Lestat through the gates. As a concept, he slips through my fingers like his ashes through Lestat's, all his mysteries unaddressed. I think surely the book fandom must have built story after story about this vampire. I find a wiki page, with what I already know, not even a mention of his ghost era in later books. I find 10 or 20 results tagged on ao3, he's only a name mention in these fics. I don't even find fanart of him. Well. Damn.

"His name was Magnus" starts to live in my mind. So does the desire for a new chapter. What if I did the most unprecidented thing I am capable of doing in this moment? Not art, though that would be nice, maybe I will. What if I write Magnus first fic? What if I give myself fully to discovering what this character would be, from his own eyes? What if I make it for me to read?

Awfully bad idea, my intuition responds. Read the room. Know what you're committing to if you do this.

But yet. I'm not afraid. I do it. I commit. November I research. December I write. January, I'm a whole new person. A person without much of a vision or expectations, I'll admit. But it's enough I did a creative work for myself.

That's when I meet someone. They want to engage with what I have done and they do. It's a moment that steals my heart, honestly. I'm emotional about it!!! They read the fic. They talk to me about the fic. They support the art I'm only just starting to make. They open the door to mingle with book+show fans, folks trying their best to balance on the chasm. And I take their hand, because isn't that everything I could have wanted, and it could happen. The outsider, with his weird special interest, could have friends. I could start a counter-culture. I could find others like us. I'll be an apologist. I'll produce ideas, conversations, more art and writing, I'll rise to this occasion.

It's just. . .a harder task than I expect, to keep this vision going very long. I don't have endless energy or luck. The book+show fans are tolerant, supportive at times, but not often collaborating with me or producing anything alongside me. I get less and less one on one time with the person who steers the vision with me. I find a handful of fans for Magnus, who have an interpersonal conflict as soon as I test the waters of joining them in a small private group. If they have any writing or art planned, it all freezes up now. I try then to just process how that makes me feel. In the stumbling times after, that wonderful person I met in January decides to leave my life. It hurts letting go. Gossip about me is everywhere, suffocating my intuitive empathy. Hatred for Magnus is always at toxic levels. I'm starting to see the future might entail being the loner I'd thought I would be at the beginning. I close up the connections that have gone silent. I keep the ones that haven't. My own art and writing needs air on its coals and more firewood, or it's at an end here, it's going so slowly. I rewatch Hannibal. I think about if I should return to the fandom. I don't know.

That autumn to spring, everyone I know, online or offline, is in a storm of real life crisis, even my own family. We're hurting and keep hurting. I give literally every ounce of my support and love, in some way, to each person. It's not until summer, that some of that turns toward the positive.

I've nearly reached a point then my writing and drawing will be in limbo forever. I still devote time to it. I still am in the process of reading more of the series, the end books, the Prince Lestat ones.

That's when Sam Reid speaks about my work, on a podcast. It's unbelievable to me. It raises so many questions. It presents so many opportunities. I'm reeling, because this upends everything in how rare it is. Nothing about my fandom pariah status will suddenly melt away, for the book or show fandoms, but I want to DO SOMETHING after that. To come alive. To succeed. On the other hand, inertia and depression have their grip on the situation as well.

I fail to restart writing. But I draw so much. In my social life, in my personal life, I rest my mind and body. There's finally no more conflicts. It's a very stable time. More than enough to refuel. I dabble in the Arcane fandom and happily take up Harkula. I test the water on bluesky. I decide I am definitely not getting involved again in the show fandom or show+books fandom. But I am open to the books only fandom. All this way, and always, I still have some loyal friends and Magnus fans, and you know who you guys are. You are the best. Thank you.

I finally asked for closure, directly, on why that person left my life, and while they gave no answer back, I do feel it is done. I have moved on.

I think it's time for a new vision, if there can be one. The question is, how do I look inward and know what it is. And where does it happen. Tumblr's not looking so strong on it's functioning future at this moment.

image source: https://www.tumblr.com/weirdpngs/732474871711399936?source=share

#this posted twice from my drafts #which is maybe a sign it wishes to exist #accepting what does not happen #how do I apply myself in the present moment

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