#intense shame and anxiety at the idea of talking about thing

[sunsrefuge]

brain worms…

worms eating my brain…

worms brain…

#this is mildly incomprehensible i think HAUDBWKFNE #idk im just like. brain worms about thing. but also #intense shame and anxiety at the idea of talking about thing #but i also Desperately want to talk abt Thing 👍 #/rambling #ok to reblog btw im just being a little silley about it

[charmandabear]

Office Hours - Chapter Six

Summary:

Astarion surprises you with a night at the theatre that doesn't go quite according to your plan.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.7k Tags/Warnings: rough/angry sex, hair pulling, emotional manipulation, dubcon, bad BDSM practices, angst, daddy kink, reminiscent of Ascended!Astarion, discussions of domestic abuse (in Taming of the Shrew)

Hi. Hello. My sweets. My darlings. This is it. The chapter where you absolutely must mind the tags. Just know that I won't take you anywhere that we won't be able to come back from. Know that I, too, am an absolute baby when it comes to intense subject matter in fics. But I want you to take care of yourselves and your hearts. As always, shoot me a message if you'd like more specifics.

Photo credits: Zaria for Green Pussy Suit Astarion and Nephi Garcia for the incredible dress.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

“In the library? Babes, are you insane?” Shadowheart's voice reaches a pitch you’re fairly sure only dogs can hear. You curl your knees into your chest and cover your face in your hands, feeling the exact appropriate amount of shame.

“I know, I know. All logic goes out the fucking window around him. All I can think is ‘mm, good dick makes brain go brr.’” You let out a frustrated sigh into your hands.

“Do you want to get fired?” She pulls your hand from your face so you can't hide from her pointed stare.

“Oh trust me, I ran about forty different scenarios of that happening through my head on the drive home.”

“Did you, now? And in how many of these did he also get fired?” Shadowheart presses, knowing how your anxiety can get out of hand.

“Like, two,” you groan and drop your head back onto the couch cushions. “I don't know what comes over me. I feel like I can't tell him no.”

“Wait, wait.” Shadowheart grips your knee, suddenly worried. “You can't tell him no as in it feels too good to stop? Or as in it doesn't feel safe to say no?”

“Nine hells, no, the first one!” you respond, horrified. She squints at you and you squirm under her gaze until you’re finally more truthful, both with her and yourself. “Well, I mean, mostly. Like it's not like that. But like also not not like that, you know?”

“I can assure you I do not,” she says in a flat voice, not interested in joking around. You sigh dramatically, trying to find the right words to describe how you feel.

“Like. Okay. Am I fully consenting to everything we do? Yes. 100%. Oh gods, yes.” Your cheeks tinge pink even thinking about it. “But like… am I going against my best judgment? Do I feel like I should say no? Does part of me kinda wish I would say no? Like… maybe?”

“Tav, that's not okay. You need to talk to him about this.” Shadowheart’s voice is soft with genuine worry. Which is ridiculous, because she’s focusing on the wrong thing.

“No, see, that's the thing. It's not actually a him issue, it's a me issue. Like there's something wrong with me, I see his most toxic traits and suddenly I'm like a horny teenager!” Your voice increases in pitch as you grow more hysterical. “How am I supposed to call him out on it when the only words that will come out of my mouth are ‘yes daddy, more please’?”

“Is there anything redeemable about him at all? Besides being good in bed?” She leans back, taking a sip of her wine and fixing you with an incredulous look. 

“I mean… yeah. He’s witty, and bantering back and forth with him is fun. He’s incredibly smart, as loath as I am to admit it, and I like hearing his ideas on things, especially his interpretation of Shakespeare’s text.” You don't even notice the smile growing on your face, but Shadowheart does. “And he’s got this unexpectedly soft side. Like he seems cold and aloof on the outside, but he cares, deeply. About his students, about his cat, about-”

“About you?” she interjects, and your smile falters.

“I don't know, Shade,” you say quietly, almost ashamed to look her in the eye. “I think so. I hope so. But it's not like we've been seeing each other for that long, he’s under no obligation to feel anything.” You practically swallow the last sentence, a truth you're reticent to voice. 

“And you?” she asks softly.

“Man, I don't fucking know. I just want to keep getting laid and not catch feelings, is that so much to ask?” you whine. She laughs, but you can tell that she's only humoring you.

“For you? Probably.”

***

It's been several days and your busy schedules have kept you and Astarion apart for most of it. Save the occasional tension-filled passing in the hall, you've barely interacted at all. You're almost beginning to believe that your whirlwind affair has come to an end when you find a mystery package at your apartment door.

It's made out to you with no discernable return address. You bring the box into your apartment while examining it, trying to ascertain its origin. It doesn't even really look like it was sent through the mail, it looks like it was dropped off.

You take out your phone and call down to the front desk. It rings a few times, then a somber voice answers.

“What dost thou require?” His voice is deep and crackled, like some ancient eternal being.

“Hi Withers, it's Tav in 3C. Do you know anything about this package that was left at my door?”

“I have inspected it, and determined it safe for you to open. It was brought by someone claiming to be a friend.”

“Can you tell me anything about this someone?”

“No.”

And the line goes dead. You laugh and shake your head. If Withers says it's safe, then it probably is. You’d trust that wrinkly old man with your life, honestly. You cut open the tape sealing the box shut and lift off the top.

Inside is something wrapped in tissue paper with a note stuck to it in Astarion's immaculate handwriting. 

Tomorrow evening The Rosewood Seven o’clock Wear nothing underneath

You let out a small involuntary moan when you read the last three words. You carefully unwrap the tissue paper to find a fabric that looks like it's made of starlight. You pull out the midnight black dress and go slightly breathless when you get a good look at it. 

It’s a backless dress with a sweetheart neckline and intricate gold embellishments that almost make it look like armor. It has a lavish gold neck piece attached by several gold chains that drip over the skin. The skirt is made of a weightless black fabric that shimmers with gold as you move it in the light. It almost appears to be cut into two panels with dual hip-high slits.

With a dress cut like this, you wouldn't be able to wear undergarments even if you wanted to.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you think about what he might have in store for you. You're not even sure what's running at the Rosewood right now, but it could be complete trash and you wouldn't even care. You probably won't even be able to pay attention, too distracted by Astarion sitting next to you for two hours.

You feel a pulsing between your legs at the thought. You think of his hand sliding up your knee while you struggle to keep a straight face. Or him reaching an arm around you, gently sliding his fingers into your hair before giving it a sharp tug.

Another moan works its way out of your throat and you follow it up with an annoyed groan. You can really get swept up at the most inconvenient times. It’s not like you don’t have any work you need to do or anything. You roll your eyes as you stalk off to draw a bath.

***

Waiting in the lobby of the theater, you’re feeling surprisingly nervous. The dress, though beautiful, is not particularly comfortable. With all of its various chains and pieces, you needed Shadowheart’s help just to put it on. It helps that she’s also incredibly talented when it comes to hair and makeup, so in truth you feel positively glamorous. 

When you see Astarion, however, everything goes silent. You’re certain that he’s posing for you the way he’s stopped to adjust his cuff. The cut of the suit he’s wearing is exceptionally flattering and you imagine running your hands all over the emerald velvet. His crisp white button down is almost sheer and you desperately want to pull him into you by that forest green silk tie. 

But you can’t tear your eyes away from his face. This is the first time you've seen him wear makeup, and the simple smokey eyeliner look makes his red irises pop. He’s decided to forgo his glasses, presumably opting for contacts instead to show off the makeup. He’s also swapped out his standard silver hoops for little daggers with a red rhinestone glimmering at the hilt. 

He looks up at you the moment you lay eyes on him, or more specifically, the moment your heart starts to beat out of your chest. He flashes you a devastating smile before striding up to you and pulling you into a deep kiss. You can’t even be bothered to care that the other patrons are probably staring as he slides his hand onto your bare lower back, his cool touch sending a shiver up your spine.

He pulls away from you just enough to breathlessly ask, “Are you ready to sit down?”

“Huh?” You’re distracted, too busy plotting a mental path to the bathrooms to fuck him. He lets out a winded chuckle.

“The play. House is open, would you care to find our seats?” His palm is still pressed against your back and you can barely form coherent thoughts. You still don’t even know what play you’re here to see. You just want—no, need—to be near him.

“Um, yeah,” you respond, still trying to get your bearings and remind yourself how to be a person. You let him lead you into the theater, and only once you're in your seats do you realize that neither of you grabbed a program. You pull out your phone to see if you can look it up, but service in the Rosewood is notoriously bad. Instead you just need to sit still next to Astarion, who looks like a dream and smells even better. 

He glances at you as your heart quickens again and his lips curl into a smile. He slips his hand behind your neck and lightly runs his finger along the seam between the golden collar of the dress and your flesh, sending goosebumps down your arms. He leans toward you until his lips are almost brushing your ear. 

“You look absolutely ravishing, my dear,” he whispers, his breath tickling your earlobe. You turn your face toward him on instinct, your chest heaving as you try to steady your breathing. Your lips hover inches apart, anticipating the kiss, when suddenly a throng of noisy actors come barreling down the aisles. You snap away from Astarion as the cacophony of their shrieks of laughter, calls across the audience to one another, and drunken banter fill the house.

One of them clambors onto the stage and shouts, “For God’s sake, a pot of small ale!” He’s dressed in rags and appears by far to be the drunkest of them all. Three servingmen swarm him with various shouts of, “Will’t please your honor?” He shoves them all away and proudly takes up space center stage.

“I am Christophero Sly! Call not me ‘Honor’ nor ‘Lordship,’” he bellows as the rest of the players make their way onto the stage.

Christopher Sly… you’re wracking your brain to remember which play he serves as a framing device for. Most productions cut this scene because it’s long and completely irrelevant. You just can’t for the life of you remember which play he appears in.

The scene continues with their drunken antics and slapstick comedy as the players address Sly as “my noble lord,” making him believe he’s a king that they’re about to perform for. Eventually they carry Sly out on a makeshift palanquin as the “play within the play” begins. Two handsome young men in preppy clothes enter, holding a book and wearing glasses that aren’t too dissimilar from Astarion’s round metal ones. The one without the glasses speaks first.

“Tranio, since for the great desire I had to see fair Padua…”

Tranio? Isn’t he one of the characters in Taming of the Shrew?

He knows you don’t like this play.

Well, if it’s all that’s playing at the Rosewood right now…

But if that’s the case why not just, like, see a movie?

You shift uncomfortably in your dress and cast your gaze towards Astarion. He smiles, taking your fingers and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles before turning back to the stage. He keeps your hand in his, absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. 

You can feel your heart pounding in your ears and you find yourself wondering what’s running through his head. Just when you think you have him figured out, he does something to surprise you. And honestly, not always in a good way.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. You know the creative team at the Rosewood wouldn’t pick this show if they weren’t going to try to do something with it. 

But even still… is this text even redeemable?

You sit through the entirety of the show cringing as the audience around you laughs at flagrant displays of domestic abuse. The actors, several of whom you’ve worked with before, are trying their hardest to make the lines playful, but some things just can’t be recovered. Between the forced starvation, physical intimidation, and gaslighting, you wonder why companies even bother performing this play anymore. No matter how witty the writing is, it’s just too out of date to be a good season choice.

When the time comes for Kate’s final monologue, you watch in pain as the actress tries to wink-wink-nudge-nudge her way through lines like “place your hands below your husband’s foot.” She’s young, and you wonder if this is one of her first professional gigs. You get a little sad knowing that she’s probably just desperate to do anything, even if it’s trash.

Maybe you’re being a little harsh. All of the individual elements of the show—the acting, set, costumes, direction, lighting—were quite good. You just can’t get over how irredeemable this text is. Worth teaching, yes, and maybe even taking Act II out of context just for the fun banter and clever wordplay. But professional theatre companies should really just retire this one.

In the Lyft back to your apartment, you decide to get Astarion’s take on the matter.

“Do you think it’s possible to redeem a text like Taming in a modern age?”

He pauses for a moment, continuing to look away from you and out the window.

“I do, yes,” he finally answers. “I think it takes a skilled hand, but it can be successful when done well.”

You sit on his response, chewing it over. You decide to take a different route.

“I guess a better question is do you think it’s worth trying to? Like, what are we getting out of it anymore?”

“Is entertainment not enough?” he says with a laugh. You wrinkle your nose at him.

“Sure, if you’re a basic ass bitch. But I want my art to mean something. And I can’t think of what this play can possibly mean if it’s not ‘shrill women are annoying and should learn their place.’” You cross and uncross your legs, trying to keep yourself decent.

“Last I checked, you enjoy being put in your place,” he says in a low hum and your pussy betrays you with a clench. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, and you’re grateful that the dark car hides your reddening cheeks. “It’s different.”

“Is it, though? Ultimately it is a text about two dysfunctional people finding comfort in one another.” His sincerity catches you off guard, and almost makes you angry that he’s been taken in by the propaganda.

“That’s only a valid interpretation if you ignore half of what happens in the play. They’re not equally dysfunctional, Kate literally gets beaten into submission and pretends to be happy about it. Petruchio is exactly the same from the start to the finish, he has no fucking character arc.” Your hands start to shake as you try to keep your cool. You’ve had this conversation far too many times with men who think they can interpret out the sexism by simply glossing over Kate’s abuse.

The Lyft stops in front of your building and you thank the driver as you get out. Astarion follows you, and you’re not even sure if you want him to accompany you upstairs. But you remain silent as you walk past Withers and into the elevator.

“You’re overreacting,” Astarion says once the elevator doors close. “People are drawn to this play for a reason. The text is excellent, and no one truly thinks of Petruchio as an abuser.”

“Are you joking?” Your voice gets shrill and the similarity to Kate isn’t lost on you. “The whole thing normalizes his abuse. The fact that people don’t think of him as an abuser is the problem.”

“It’s a slapstick comedy,” he snaps, his voice growing stern. “Are you going to tell me that we need to cancel the Three Stooges because it promotes violence?”

“Don’t be fucking condescending,” you spit. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“How is it not the same? Suddenly because it’s a woman in the role it no longer counts? Are you implying that women should be barred from certain types of performance because of their gender?” He walks past you into your apartment and you throw your keys and bag on the counter, not even bothering to see where they land.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, now you’re just twisting my words,” you grumble, more frustrated than ever by your inability to match his eloquence.

“So use your own words,” he sneers, whirling around to face you. “How is it not the same?”

“It’s because- well, I- It’s different, just- argh!” Your head is clouded by your attraction to him, which has annoyingly only grown over the past few minutes of shouting. You’re suddenly reminded of the smug arrogant bastard that you first met. He lets out a jeering laugh.

“See? You can’t even defend your own point.” 

His sardonic cruelty sets something off in you and you angrily grab the lapel of his green suit. Your intentions are a complete mystery even to you, because as soon as you’re within inches of one another, instincts take over. You crush his lips into yours and pull him backwards until you thump against the door behind you. He paws hungrily at the dress, sliding his hand under the slit and around to grab your bare ass. You gasp into his touch, feeling equally frustrated and aroused that he even controlled what you wore tonight.

Your fingers make their way into his hair and you pull hard, breaking the kiss and leaving his mouth open, panting. His eyes are sparkling with a fire that you haven’t seen yet and a low growl manifests in your throat. He smirks and buries his teeth into your shoulder, something he usually asks bespoke permission for. You cry out in response, twisting your hands tighter into his silvery locks.

He unlatches from your shoulder and pushes his knee past the front of your skirt and up onto your bare cunt. You grind wantonly against the velvet as he kisses you with bloody lips. He grabs hold of the delicate chains of the dress and yanks, detaching them from the collar and making the entire bodice crumple and pool around your waist. Your nipples immediately harden at the sudden exposure to cold air and he pinches one sharply between his fingers. Your hips roll into his leg as you groan, fully ruining his pants. He continues to bite around your neck and shoulders, placing little puncture wounds in his path, marking you as his.

You grab onto his tie and push him away so you can shimmy out of the rest of the dress. You’re now down to just the gold collar of the dress and your heels, a look you wish you could hate but don’t. You pull him across your living area and toward your bedroom, shoving him down onto the edge of the bed. 

“Thou hast hit it, come, sit on me,” he says, quoting Petruchio with a sinister grin. Kate’s retort falls out of your mouth reflexively.

“Asses are made to bear, and so are you,” you hiss as you straddle his hips, wrapping his tie around your hand until you’ve gripped it up to the knot. Your other hand violently unbuckles his belt, yanking it through the loops with a snap.

“Women are made to bear, and so are you,” he says with a caustic laugh, digging his nails into your ass cheeks. You tug sharply on his tie, bringing his lips close to yours.

“No such jade as you, if me you mean,” you snarl and silence him with an angry kiss. You don’t want to encourage his idiotic behavior, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said this wasn’t a fantasy you’ve had before. You fumble with the buttons of his suit jacket, trying to get him undressed as quickly as possible. You’re not sure if you feel more vulnerable or more powerful being undressed while he’s still fully clothed, but either way you want him naked, now. You get about three buttons into his shirt before you grow impatient, ripping it the rest of the way open and sending buttons flying. 

Good. Let him need to repair his clothes for once.

You push him flat onto his back and descend onto his chest, alternating kisses, licks, and bites. Your dull human teeth don’t have nearly the same effect as his fangs, but it just means you get to bite twice as hard in order to leave a mark. He writhes beneath your touch, and you feel a twisted satisfaction at the quiet little grunts and gasps you’re finally pulling from him. He’s rarely this vocal during sex, and it’s only serving to spur you on more.

His groans build until you capture his nipple in your teeth and bite down, causing him to shout and buck his hips up into you. In a flash he flips you around onto your back and he bears down on you, eyes dangerous. 

“Little love, do you think you’re in control?” he asks in a low growl, his hand gripped around your jaw. You sneer and slide your leg against the strained bulge in his pants. He hisses and your smile widens.

“Right now? Yes,” you coo, continuing to press your calf against his velvet-covered cock. You grab the tie still hanging around his neck and pull him close. 

“If you want it back, fucking take it.”

If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?

He kisses you roughly, catching your bottom lip in his teeth biting hard enough to puncture the skin. He pulls back slightly, a drop of your blood running down his chin and a snide grin. He makes like he’s about to kiss you again but shoves your face away before your lips make contact.

This is the worst you’ve ever seen him—the most arrogant, the most condescending, borderline cruel even. And you have never been more turned on.

If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?

“Is that all you’ve got?” you taunt, licking the blood from your lips. “Go ahead, choke me, daddy.”

The feminist in you is horrified, but the little gremlin controlling your libido is having the time of its life. It squeals with delight when his hand closes around your throat, just barely constricting your breathing. 

“You insolent little brat,” he breathes into your ear, pulling up on your jaw. “I will absolutely ruin you.”

And there will be no tenderness, no tenderness.

“Do it, coward,” you spit, and he lets go just long enough to finish undressing from the waist down. He grabs your still heeled ankle and presses your leg up by your shoulder, stretching you wide enough to take him without any prep. You gasp as he fills you, the stinging pain outweighed by the gratification of finally feeling him inside you.

The only thing that I ask, love me mercilessly.

He sets a punishing rhythm, one knee on the bed and the other foot still firmly planted on the floor. He bottoms out with each long thrust and you grab hold of his hair to brace yourself. He winces with the pain but doesn’t slow down, and your moans grow high and loud as he continues to furiously pound into you. 

“Gods, fuck, Astarion,” you keen, your desire coiling in your belly and threatening to explode. “Keep going, daddy, fuck me please.” He grunts with the effort and your dirty talk seems to be having an effect as his pace falters. You jerk your hips up into him, chasing your orgasm, until finally it barrels through you like a runaway train. You pull on his hair as you come and that sets off his, his pulsing cock pressing against the clenching walls of your cunt. 

He stays deep inside you as the aftershocks reverberate through both of you, until the only sound remaining is your heavy panting. He drops his forehead to touch yours, a pleasantly tender moment after some of the roughest sex you can recall having. He starts to giggle and you follow suit, suddenly giddy. He pulls out of you with a squelch and walks to the bathroom to get a towel to clean up the mess you’ve left behind. He wipes you down gently, a surprising bit of aftercare you’re not accustomed to with him. He plants a tender kiss on your lips and you feel dizzy with affection for him.

You settle up against the headboard of your bed, his arm around you and both of you looking at your phones in a companionable silence. After a moment, he lets out a small chuckle. 

“What?” you ask, turning your head towards him quizzically.

“I’m just shocked that worked, is all,” he laughs, shaking his head. Your confusion grows and you furrow your brow.

“What worked?” you laugh with him, but something doesn’t feel right.

“The whole night, taking you to see Taming, getting into just enough of a fight to result in,” he vaguely waves his hand, gesturing to the edge of the bed, “all of that.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” You pull away from him and your stomach drops. Surely he can’t be suggesting what you think he’s suggesting.

“You get riled up so easily, I thought this might be fun.” He still doesn’t seem to have picked up on your heart pounding in your ears, which is frankly unusual for him.

“Are you saying… Wait, are you saying that you planned that fight? So, what, we’d have angry sex?”

“Of course, you don’t think I actually believe anything that I said, do you? Taming of the Shrew might be well-written, but it’s a rubbish play to produce.” He finally turns to you and sees that you’ve gone white as a sheet. “Oh, darling, don’t take it like that, you’re positively adorable when you’re angry, I couldn’t resist.” He tries putting his hand to your cheek but you flinch away like he’s burned you.

“Get out,” you say in a low voice, unable to even look at him.

“What?” He’s still laughing. He doesn’t get it. “My sweet, didn’t you-”

“GET. OUT.” Your voice has a venom in it that even shocks you. He stares at you in horror until you shoot him an icy glare. “Now.”

Without a word he stands and quickly puts his clothes back on. You stay in your bed, naked and curled under a sheet, until you hear the front door of your apartment slam. With shaking hands, you call Shadowheart.

“Moonmaiden’s delight, did you enjoy yourself? It certainly sounded like you did.” The sound of Shadowheart’s bubbly laugh usually makes you smile, but right now it seeps into your skin like poison.

“Shade, please come over,” you whimper, and the second the words leave your mouth, the tears begin to fall. You don’t hear her hang up, but you do hear a muffled, “I’m going to fucking kill him!” through the wall. You pull your knees further into your chest and sob.

#astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanfiction #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #baldurs gate smut #fanfiction #smut #professor astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #bg3 au #college au #bg3 modern au #astarion x tav #astarion romance #office hours #baldurs gate au #astarion angst

[doll-r-t]

Butterflies in your stomach

Syverson x autistic!reader

Just a small thing I thought about.

TW: fluff

Masterlist pinned on my blog

gif by demicampirew

You had met Syverson when he moved in with Jay, his best friend, after he was done with the military. Jay brought him to the bar, your friends and you would usually hang out. He was so handsome and immediately you had a crush on him. He was very much your type. Broad, muscular but with a layer of fat, not clearly defined muscles but clearly strong. They were functional muscles and you could only imagine how he could lift you up, carry you in his arms. Or easily lift the heavy things you had problems with. You dreamed about him coming up behind you taking the heavy things from you and easily carrying them to wherever you needed. And as a cherry on top he had a beard, giving him a rough, rugged look that made your heart flutter. Yet, what truly enticed you was how kind and caring he was, joking around even if it was on his own expense. He was cocky but not arrogant. 

Yet, you had no idea how to go about your crush, no idea what kind of woman he would be interested in and if you fell into that category. You spent countless nights wondering, thinking about him. Your heart would beat faster and faster when you knew you would see him whenever your friends would go out in the evening. You were not in the habit to regularly go out but the fluttering in your stomach gave you enough energy not to miss one outing and the chance to see him.

Your best friend found this quite odd that you would willingly go to every gathering. And finally only a week after you had realized you like Syverson you told your best friend. You were never a person who was ashamed of your feelings. Not understanding the secrecy around having a crush. 

Even though it would make you sad, very much so if he did not like you, you would be okay. At least you would know and could try and move on. 

However, as much as you tried you struggled with making conversation with him. It was always difficult for you. You either talked too little or too much. You did not know what to say, when and how to say something and eventually the conversations would die down and you were just not interesting enough for people to stick around. This got even worse when you liked someone. Trying to think clearly ignoring how hard your heart was beating and often your sentences were disjointed. While at times when a topic would arise you had previously been fixated on or were currently interested in. You would info dump and even sometimes correct people when they said something not entirely true. This was the biggest reason you struggled with finding a partner. You were just out of your depth with social interactions. And no one had ever caught your attention as much as Syverson. All you wanted was to be wrapped up into his arms and make him laugh, enjoy the rumble in his chest and the amazing feeling it gave you when you would make someone laugh. Especially laughter of happiness, this was the greatest joy for you. 

You would always smile at him. When you first saw him you could not help but let the biggest broadest smile take over your face. Squishing up your cheeks until it would look like your eyes were closed. Yet, during the time you would spend with your friends at a bar or at someone's house having a BBQ you would shyly smile at him whenever your eyes met. No idea how to strike up a conversation. You could hardly look him in the eyes. Whenever you have intense emotion it is hard for you to look people in the eyes. No matter bad or good emotions. Your heart would race so hard that it would hurt if you also had to look directly at the person's eyes. Which was a shame as Sy had such beautiful eyes. You tried making conversation with him. You voice soft and tentative trying to curb the anxiety you felt talking to him, hoping he liked you. 

You could not see how soft his eyes were when he looked at you. The encouraging smile when he saw the nervousness whenever he talked to you. At first he thought you might be a bit scared of him but soon he realized that you had taken a liking to him. He had talked to his best friend, asking if he knew something you were interested in. So he could coax you out of your shell. It was a bit hard to hold up the conversations at times but he did not mind leading the way throughout the chats you two had. It was superficial at first and he caught on quickly that you struggled a little with social interaction. So when his best friend said he would ask his boyfriend, a guy from your friend group he saw you get along easily, Sy felt encouraged that next time you two saw each other he would have something to talk about with you. He wanted you to feel included in the group and now that Syverson was retired and was so kindly taken into the friend group he did everything to be a part of their little found family. 

When his best friend's boyfriend was over at their place he gave him some pointers not only on you but other people in the group. Yet Sy especially listened to what he said about you. You liked cartoon drawings, had a high level of education and loved learning new things. You tried to learn different languages, loved books and storytelling. You were closed off at first until you got a basic understanding of a person. But once someone would get through your shell you would open up. As Syverson understood from what the boyfriend said, you were honest, kind, gentle but stood up for what you believed, fighting for your loved ones. Syverson  thought long and hard about what the boyfriend had said about you. He remembered the way you made sure everyone was okay, that they had drinks and food. How you ran after your friend when she forgot her hat at the bar even though you would see each other tomorrow. Saying: "I did not want her to be cold or panic searching for her hat." It brought a smile to Syverson's face. The more he thought about you the more he wanted to get to know you. 

He slowly and so gently fell in love with you. When you two talked and he brought up a book he knew you liked, Syverson fell full force for you. The way your eyes lit up, how you stumbled over your word because you were speaking so fast, how you would gesture with your hands and smile up at him in excitement. 

However, you surprised him when your group of friends left the bar. You turned to him, a little nervous and asked him if he wanted to have coffee with you. "Just us two. I like you and would love to get to know you better. If that is okay with you." He had never been asked out, well so direct and honest. He liked that. You seemed so fearless while doing it. Letting him know what you want but making sure you would be okay if he refused. Normally Sy was the one asking out the woman and the caveman at him was annoyed you had beaten him to it. Yet the war tired man in him was relieved to have such directness. No dancing around, straight and simple. 

Finally he smiled at you, "'course darlin'. Would love that." He pulled out his phone to give you his number. Although you two were in a group chat with all your friends he wanted the experience of giving you his number, making it feel more like a romantic start. You beamed up at him pulling out a piece of paper. His lips quirked at this. He knew you had your phone on you. But you looked so cute, with the piece of paper in your hands holding it out excitedly to him. 

Giving him the piece of paper he saw you had written your phone number on it and your name. He took it happily. "Let me know when you wanna grab that coffee. I am free most of the time." You went on, still smiling up at him. "You got it sweetheart." He hesitated a bit. He thought of your honesty so he gave himself a push. Screw seeming too eager! Who cares anyway? 

“How about tomorrow at 3pm.” He smiled down at you. 

Your friends had walked a bit further away giving you two some space but couldn’t help but look at the two smiling at each other. You two are so cute, your best friend thought. 

“We could go to the small cafe with the vintage furniture, the one couple streets down the road.” He pointed his thumb behind him. You nodded eagerly. He knew you loved that cafe. 

“Of course, I love that cafe. They have the option to put vanilla sugar into the coffee!” You exclaimed excitedly. “Well then it’s decided. I can pick you up and we can park by O'malley's pub then walk downtown.” You nodded once more. “See you then.” You hugged him. Burying your face in his chest, he enclosed you in his arms, almost swallowing you whole. He could get used to this. You lifted your head looking up at him, with sparkling eyes. Taking your face in his hands he kissed your forehead. “See you then.” He whispered. Watching as you and your best friend walked down the road to your car. 

Both of you went home that night with butterflies in your stomach and a smile on your face.

Taglist:

@tumblnewby @irishprincess89 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @amberangel112 @sofiebstar @omgkatinkaa @enchantedbytomandhenry @snowbellexx @daddys-littlewhitegirll @pjkimrnn @zealoushoundd, @lunedelorient​, @tragicphoenix13​, @alexa-fangirl-forever​, @vhjlucky13​ @bourbonwithicee, @lunedelorient, @identity2212

#syverson x reader #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #syverson #syverson fluff #syverson imagine #captain syverson smut #captain syverson angst #syverson x autistic!reader #captain syverson x autistic!reader #sand castle (movie) #henry cavill #syverson x you #captain syverson x you #henry cavill x autistic!reader #captain syverson imagine

[selectivechaos]

about love-bombing

i know it's been a while, and i'm still too busy and tired to fully sort out this blog. but i wanted to talk about love-bombing, because i didn't know what it was until it happened.

the basic concept of love-bombing is simple: a kind of intense affection and adoration is expressed to a person constantly and immediately. this may or may not be coupled with periods of emotional coldness, or ignoring the person. either way, it is a manipulation tactic. the person who love-bombs may genuinely feel this way, i don't know, i'm not a psychologist, but the reality is that the way they express and act on their feelings is not ok. it is harmful. 🌹🌹

love-bombing doesn't have to be constant. love-bombing doesn't have to be coupled with periods of coldness to be manipulation. love-bombing is where they place you on a pedestal, giving more compliments than you can take. it is so easy to dismiss and invalidate the harm this does, when it happens to someone else, or when it happens to you. but if you do dismiss it, you are just keeping yourself or whomever is being love-bombed, in that situation. and that can be harmful.

love-bombing is not just 'he can't take a compliment'

love-bombing is not just 'unrequited love'

you don't have to know exactly what they wanted from you in order to know that it was manipulation

love-bombing makes you feel anxious

love-bombing does not give you time to sort out your own feelings and wants.

it is intense, and it demands all of your time.

it demands extreme emotional labour to accept that amount of emotional shrapnel.

it does not mean something is wrong with you if you can't handle it.

it is not that you 'weren't ready for a relationship'

it is not that you 'were too cold or unloving'

it means that you didn't deserve to be treated like an object to adore and admire. love-bombers don't take into consideration how you feel about their affections and their excessive communication. they don't respect your time or feelings. they love an idea of you. and they're hurting you. 🌹🌹

below are some explanations of how it feels and how to know:

[ID: First image is entitled: 13 signs of love bombing. By Sara Kuburic, CCC; @millennial. therapist. Text reads: “They make grand romantic gestures/give extravagant gifts. They always compliment you. They promote excessive communication. They request constant attention. They demand commitment. They resist your boundaries. They make 'soul mate' claims. They say 'I love you' very quickly. They are good at saying what you want to hear. They feel "too good to be true". They make you feel like you're being saved. They make immediate promises about the future. They put you on a pedestal.”

Second image is entitled: Love Bombing Signs. By Choosinf Therapy. Text reads: “1. Wanting to know everything about you right away. 2. Sharing their personal details too quickly. 3. Needing constant validation. 4. Intense declarations of love. 5. Pressuring you to commit. 6. Saying all the "right things". 7. Intense clinginess. 8. Over-the-top, expensive gifts. 9. Immense jealousy when you're with anyone else. 10. Things just feel "off". 11. Sudden coldness or withdrawal.

Third image is entitled codependent versus healthy love. From Conquering Shame and Codependency’ by Darlene Lancer 2014. www.whatiscodependency.com. Text reads: For codependency: “Intense attraction - feel anxiety. Idealize, and ignore differences Fall in love - make commitments. Get to know each other. Become disappointed. Cling to romantic fantasy of love. Try to change partner into ideal. Feel resentful and unloved.” Whereas for healthy love: Friendship begins - feel comfortable. Get to know each other. Accept differences (or leave). Grow to love each other. Make commitments. Love and acceptance deepens. Learn from each other's differences. Feel supported and loved.” /End ID]

🌹🌹🌹.

#long post #love bombing #red flags #emotional manipulation #emotional abuse

[hippodamoi]

recently i’ve been thinking about the confines and pressures of society. how much women smother their own ideas, talents and interests to force themselves to do things they don’t want to. that simply was never for them. just for the approval of society. stupid faceless strangers as well as overbearing relatives. 

 the societal pressure to fit in. to not rock the boat or make others uncomfortable. the natural human yearning to just belong. both are intensely strong compulsions. young girls will fake crushes on boys to be like the other girls, teen girls will force themselves to date boys they dislike or are bored with for the same reasons, or to convince themselves that this is what they must do to belong. we’ll dress, shave, talk, fake interests and mold ourselves like clay to be like the others. to be what’s expected of us. students will enter majors they have no interest in, or professions they hate because it will translate to social capital. there is almost no greater anxiety and fear for a young person than to not belong. young women will try and try and try yet again to find a man they love, convinced they’re the one who’s lacking or wrong and harming themselves, sometimes irreparably, in the process. 

those very compulsions keep women in the chains of matrimony. in the bondage of motherhood when they never wanted responsibility for anything more than a houseplant. in relationships with shitty men where they have to do all the chores; the dishes, the laundry, the vacuuming, the mopping, the dusting, the changing of sheets, the cooking, the shopping, the emotional labour, the childcare, the care for the elder members of the household, because they were lied to. society told them this was the path to happiness, to stability, to being a functioning member of society when all it does is smother them. drain the light from their souls and kill their creativity. 

i mourn the women lost on the path prescribed by society. by their parents, their fathers, their religious communities and leaders. how much poetry, how much art, how many novels, how many statues, how much architecture, how much technological, psychological, social progress have we been robbed of. how many bright and vivacious and beautiful girls have withered away under the weight of matrimony, their lifeblood drained away by parasitic husbands and children. 

i consider with kindness those that spent a lifetime uncertain and searching. those that knew - those whose fingers itched and ached to draw, to paint, to write, to argue, to hold a scalpel or a gavel, but smothered their souls and selves into nothing knowing there was no space for them. those who never had the opportunity or even thought to question themselves and their path - who just lived with the resignation that life was just like that. it is what it is. dreaming about things you can’t have will hurt more than just accepting reality.  how many women lived with guilt, shame, fury and the void inside of their chest thinking that, that was all there was or ever would be to love. to life? 

#shut up #i'm emotional about it #can society leave women and girls alone #that'd be great actually

[askanaroace]

Ask An Aro Ace ASAW Day 2: Being a Non-Favorable Aromantic

Today is another day where I kinda talk about something that's treated as different within and without the community. Today I want to talk about being romance-indifferent or romance-averse or romance-repulsed.

A quick primer for those who might need:

Romance-favorable: generally likes and is open to romance.

Romance-indifferent: generally unbothered by and doesn't think about romance. Doesn't really want it but isn't strongly turned away from it.

Romance-averse: generally uninterested in romance but not especially upset or uncomfortable with it.

Romance-repulsed: generally experiencing discomfort and upset surrounding romance.

This may be in the realm of romantic content to personal outlook on romance and the desire or lack thereof to be in a romantic relationship. And not everyone has to use these or may even feel the scale is useful to them, for example because someone might be favorable to romantic media but repulsed by the idea of personally participating in romance or their feelings may fluctuate over time and be different at different times.

I would say I fall along the lines of being romance-indifferent. In the past, I have been touch-repulsed and sex-repulsed (and now probably lay somewhere along indifferent to averse), so I have general experience with how intense and upsetting repulsion can be and how it can impact your life, though I can't speak specifically to romance-repulsion.

What I want to talk about is the extremely different perspective that comes out about romance depending on if you're looking at things from within or without the community.

When your general allo hears about aromanticism, they are most likely to assume someone completely uninterested in romance and potentially even repulsed by it. You may get gross comments about being picky or immature or afraid of commitment and have it said or implied that the "right person" will "fix" you (as if romance-favorable aros aren't still aro!). Dehumanization is especially common with aros with claims of "love is what makes us human".

But within the community, this treatment by allos has led to a sense of shame surrounding aversion and repulsion, as well as aplatonicism, heartlessness, and lovelessness. There is a tendency to try and defend aros from such judgements by using amatonormative claims like "aros can still want to date!" and "aros can love in other ways!" which leaves out aros for whom these statements aren't true and sets up the prospect that the only acceptable way to be aromantic is to be romance-favorable and partnering (whether that be a romantic or queerplatonic or platonic partnership).

I know very well that romance-favorable aros face their own struggles and often feel invalid and fake due to their favorability. That's a real and valid feeling and struggle. But truth is that I see a lot of validation, positivity, and encouragement for favorability.

And if you run in the right circles, you'll see that same energy given towards indifference, aversion, and repulsion. But overall, it can be very difficult to talk about being repulsed in particular. People treat you like your discomfort is difficult to accommodate, like your feelings are a burden to them. And it's an especially terrible burden for a repulsed person to have to carry because we're the ones dealing with literal repulsion over these subjects. Accommodating us takes a little conscious, thought yes, but when I was repulsed, that could manifest as:

Being unable to stomach watching certain shows/movies

Getting very easily embarrassed and flustered and uncomfortable with such material

An actual, physical sensation of freezing up and my body shutting down

Dissociation

Involuntary flinching

Anxiety and fear over having to face certain situations

People can also experience things like nausea, dysphoria, depression, etc.

I get that accommodating us does take some mindfulness and effort, but I promise that it is easier on you than it is on the repulsed person to go through the above.

And acceptance for this definitely has improved over time. But making room for non-favorable folk means more than us being an after-thought. It means including these experiences in your definition of aromanticism. It means updating your content warnings. It means changing the way we defend our identity.

Humans are defined based off of general biology and society building defined by traits like bipedalism, language, tool-making, foresight, and opposable thumbs. Nothing at all to do with love, which is something we can observe throughout the animal kingdom. All aros are humans because that's the scientific classification we're born into. You don't need love to be compassionate or kind towards other people. Every living creature is worthy of basic respect. Aromanticism doesn't harm people (anti-aro bias and amatonormativity do). Whatever our feelings, those deserve to be respected and considered.

By breaking down these barriers and stereotypes, we help everyone. Because there's a lot of different ways to feel and live, and we deserve to get to explore those options.

#asaw #asaw 2023 #aromantic #aro #aro spectrum #romance indifferent #romance averse #romance repulsed #amatonormativity #arophobia #love #arospec awareness week #aromantic spectrum awareness week #asaw day 2 #loveless aro #heartless aro #aplatonic

[argumate]

Morlock is laser-focused on the dating discourse because that one hurt guys like him the most. When authority figures say "the number one thing you must never do is behave in a sexually assertive manner" and then turn around with "wait, why aren't you putting yourself out there?" it feels like a horrible prank has been played on you. As a young straight guy circa 2013 I felt so much guilt over my sexuality, and finding out it was all just memes is a bizarre feeling. Feels like I was tricked.

I think this is a perspective that's hard to understand for older people 35-40+. I think Morlock is about my age (26-29), and being a horny 19 year old dude who wanted to also be progressive in the 2010s was rough. It sometimes feels like I was taught wrong as a joke, and I'm a bit resentful over the guilt I felt for nothing. It was t the point I was guilty about being sexually forward and horny with my own girlfriend, and talking to women on any level was pretty anxiety-inducing.

To clarify, I'm doing much better now, and I'm not a weird resentment-filled blackpiller or anything. I also did have a certain amount of generalized social anxiety as a younger guy, and working that has helped in this area too. Still a work in progress, but we're getting there.

actually I don't think 2010-era messaging is particularly unique as societies have always had ambivalent ideas about sexual desire and people who are susceptible to feeling shame over this.

for example I recall Scott Aaronson (who is in his 40s now?) expressed something very similar, to the point of wishing he could be chemically castrated (!) and then he grew out of it as people tend to do; in his case he justified his feelings by reference to second wave feminist theory.

and I think that's how this works: people can feel intense shame about their sexuality (and everything else, but sexual desire is always fertile ground for shame) and a certain type of socially awkward anxious nerd will naturally look for a theoretical basis for their feelings and boy howdy will they find one!

sometimes that involves a guy who feels ashamed of whacking off converting to Catholicism to help him deal with it (and conveniently feel superior to the people who don't) and sometimes it involves a guy who sends dick pics boosting feminist bloggers to help him deal with it (and conveniently feel superior to the people who don't) and you would expect this pattern to continue even if the specific tropes of 2010-era social justice rhetoric are replaced by something new.

fundamentally people need to learn to understand and process their own emotions, but that's a project that takes a lifetime or longer, and every day new people are born packed full of feelings they mistake for truths about the world.

[sanjisblackasswife]

You think any of the guys (or even gals) from OP ever experience top/dom drop or sub drop? Incase you or anyone else don’t know what that is (forgive me for sounding cocky or pretentious lol I just have no idea how to say it without sounding like a know it all 🥲🥲):

Sun drop can occur to the submissive after a particularly intense bdsm session. From a hormonal standpoint, the gist is that all the feel-good hormones stopping can lead to sudden physical discomforts (chills, exhaustion) or even mental ones like anxiety or shame (“Why did I like it when they called me that/treated me that way? Is something wrong with me?”)

Top or dom drop isn’t as talked about or focused on in writing, but it’s similar to the above, though the shame can come in the form of horror (ex: “I love this person dearly, why do I like treating them like that? What sick person must I be to enjoy saying/doing things like that to them?”)

(Disclaimer: These are, like, very light ways to putting them so feel free to look more into it if you’re curious. These can occur immediately after or even hours after the act, and can potentially last even longer than the session itself had. This is why aftercare is important: to destress and slowly bring one another back to normalcy and contentment so to speak. Anywho I’ve blabbered way longer than I hoped I would but feel free to ignore if this makes you uncomfortable! Otherwise, I hope you’re having a good day/night!)

[seakicker]

Did you ever hesitate and feel scared to show your naked body to your boyfriend for the first time? I’m chubby and I’m still not at the stage where I feel comfortable showing anyone 🥲

so i was mulling over this ask for a bit cuz i have so much to say about this topic and my thoughts on it are still pretty complicated even as someone who has navigated exposing myself to someone else for the first time. remember that it's totally okay to still be a virgin regardless of your age; there's no rush and there should never be any shame associated with being a virgin in your 20s or beyond; it makes me sad when people are like "i can't believe i'm still a virgin at 25" as if there's some kind of deadline on being intimate with someone else or that you somehow stop being desirable as you age-- neither of these things are true!

to answer your question, yes. i did feel really hesitant the first time i undressed in front of him and, to be honest with you, i still feel that way sometimes even though he's seen me naked more times than i can count since that initial first time about two months ago. i'm not going to pessimistically say that the feeling never goes away or anything like that because it certainly isn't as intense now as it was back then-- the feeling really only resurfaces when i'm already having a bad day or when i've been in a particularly insecure spell-- but it is something i continue to think about as our relationship progresses and as i learn to become more vulnerable with him emotionally and sexually.

he and i have already talked about this a little but one of the consistent struggles i have is that i sometimes treat sex more as an opportunity to look good rather than feel good so i prioritize 'performing' more than i prioritize just having a good time, relaxing, and being in touch with myself and my body and i think a lot of these feelings are really heightened by being a plus-size person (more specifically a plus-size woman because i think the specific intersectionality of being femme and being plus-sized is insanely important when discussing sex and self-image) because i have thoughts like "how does my stomach look from this angle?" "i don't like being viewed from behind because i'm embarrassed of how my rolls look" and things like that. i worry about looking less than my "sexiest" and i'm still unlearning the idea that "sexy = thin" or that i need to make myself look as small as possible to be sexy because that's not true whatsoever. i don't need to suck in my stomach or twist my waist to hide my rolls or anything, and neither does anyone else-- you don't have to shrink yourself out of fear you're taking up too much space bc you're wonderful as is.

there's a lot of little ways you find comfort when it comes to being nude in front of someone else. for instance, i have a lot of insecurity about being viewed from behind bc i've always been really insecure about my back rolls and my ass (more like the lack thereof) and so sometimes positions like doggy style (despite being my #2 fave position) can cause me some anxiety bc i worry about how i look from angles i know i don't like seeing myself in. despite that, my boyfriend will praise me and compliment me not because he's just trying to make me feel better or because he feels obligated to say those sorts of things, he says it because he genuinely feels that way and because, simply put, other people don't view you the way you view yourself. other people love you for you in ways that you don't love you for you and so i think little moments like that are insanely special. hearing those compliments when i'm worrying and worrying and worrying about how i look are extremely comforting and grounding; they bring me back to reality when i'm so caught up in my own head and they're just. very healing.

i have about a thosand and a half tips when it comes to the question of "how do i learn to love myself/my body more?" and i don't want anyone to think that the only solution is finding someone else who'll compliment you when you can't compliment yourself bc that's just not true. it is possible to learn to love yourself while you're single and, in fact, 95% of my own self-love journey has been accomplished solo rather than within the boundaries of a relationship. of course, the relationship helps with external reassurance, but i know that i'm beautiful because i think i'm beautiful, not because other people find me beautiful. non-sexual nudity has been infinitely more healing for my self image than sexual-nudity ever has been; just learning to love your body and exist with it rather than against it is the most important tip imo. eating cereal naked, sleeping naked, lying in bed naked, doing chores naked-- just allowing yourself to, well, be with yourself and see yourself in the nude is a really nice and non-intrusive (ie rather than going out in public in a swimsuit) way of learning to accept and love your body more.

don't force yourself to be vulnerable before you're ready to be vulnerable and remember that you'll always be perfect as you are-- and that sometimes the greatest comfort comes from knowing that other people don't see the flaws we see in ourselves bc we're all our own worst critics. you'll be okay!

#chats #cw insecurity #cw body image

[ravenheartxvi]

So I learned yesterday that Jake Lloyd, who portrayed young Anakin Skywalker in the Phantom Menace was diagnosed with schizophrenia. My apologies for this being old news to some but while I was aware that he was the recipient of intense bullying for his portrayal of Anakin Skywalker and vague notes of how it negatively impacted him, I was until now unaware of his mental health diagnosis. My heart just goes out to him and what he lives with. I admit, I have strong feelings on this information.

I was never one of those people who criticized the portrayal of littleAnakin Skywalker and could not understand the logic behind attacking a child actor for no other reason than not liking this child’s acting or portrayal. It was cruel and shameful to bully a child to such an extent that this boy couldn’t even enjoy the experience. Now, knowing that he suffers from a severe and still mostly misunderstood mental illness just makes it even worse! SHAME on anyone who even shared a shred of negativity towards Jake Llyod! Just thinking of him experiencing the onset of his symptoms while also experiencing such an onslaught of vitriol from toxic assholes who thought it was appropriate to target a child actor is just so heartbreaking. My heart bleeds at the thought and I feel so much empathy for what he must have been going through at the time. Especially considering that I experienced similar experiences on a smaller scale. 

I don’t know what it must feel like to experience having schizophrenia beyond a clinical/educational understanding. However, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder during my adolescence. I was one of the lucky few to receive an early diagnosis and that is mostly due to a family history and the fact that my mother was diagnosed with the disorder while I was ten. I was also a bullied child. While I won’t go into detail, I’ll just say that it was bad enough that when I first began to wear prescription glasses in fourth grade, I experienced deep anxiety and terror of wearing my glasses in front of my peers in fear of being bullied. Anytime my mom tried to talk to me about joining extracurricular activities such as joining girl scouts or the idea of summer camp, I would break down into tears and beg her not to make me do it. The experiences I had with my peers only compounded my experiences when I began to experience the symptoms of bipolar disorder, the manic episodes and the depression episodes, all occurring in the late 90’s before cyber bullying became a thing. Going through such a turbulent time in your mental health while also dealing with intense bullying is traumatizing. It leaves an impact, one that I, as a thirty-eight year old woman, still deal with the effects of. I cannot help but try to emphasize and imagine just how much more intense and scary it was for Jake Lloyd. I truly hope he is doing well, as well as he can with a difficult mental disorder. 

On top of that, I came across a youtube video yesterday where Ahmed Best(who portrayed Jar Jar Binks) talked about how he was driven to almost commit suicide because of the backlash and bullying he received from the same toxic assholes who dare to call themselves fans. WTF is wrong with people! Again, I have such strong feelings and my heart goes out to these two actors after learning of these two facts. I understand what it is like to be driven to self harm and attempt suicide through the mistreatment from others. My first suicide attempt had occurred when I was twelve, after a particularly bad day at school dealing with bullies. Unfortunately it was also the beginning of the onset of my own mental health issues. I am glad that Ahmed Best has recovered from that incredibly painful and low point in his life and he is now thriving. But the fact that he was brought to such a low point by “fans” in the first place is just so disgusting. 

The problem is that this shit is still happening. We may all have our own opinions on the sequel trilogy or any other Star Wars media helmed by Disney, whatever. But the fact that Kelly Marie Tran was targeted by toxic asshole “fans” to the point that she had to scrub her social media accounts and it soured her Star Wars experience is just disheartening. And when these same toxic asshole “fans” decided to target Moses Ingram for her role as Reva, I have so much more respect for Ewan McGregor for calling them out and coming to Moses’ defense. I now have no doubt that Ewan saw first hand what these toxic asshole “fans” put Jake and Ahmed through and stepped up for his co-star. 

The emotional distress these actors had to experience from this toxic fan behavior is difficult to swallow. Neither one of them deserved to be targeted with an ounce of the backlash they received. Yet, this toxic fan behavior became the main opinion and dare anyone else speak against it. It’s beginning to turn around now and the actors once criticized and mistreated by “fans” are now receiving recognition for their talent and appreciation for their roles. However, it does not erase their experience. For a child actor to be targeted by bullies for his role is cruel enough but knowing that same child actor also suffers from a serious mental illness makes it a thousand times worse. Knowing that an adult actor was bullied over a role he was enjoying, getting encouraging feedback by his co-stars and production team, only to be driven to suicidal feelings by fan reactions is equally tragic. I choose to combat this cruelty with compassion. What about you?

#star wars #jake lloyd #ahmed best

[tiffcore]

Eve has always been pretty demanding.

To be expected. The silver spoon his parents tucked into his baby blanket seemed to meld to his skin, and although he was never the most successful out of his brothers and sisters, he believes there is a very specific and logical explanation to why he is the only one with a partner. A fiancee to be specific.

Subsequently Sonny is the light of his life.

Although Sonny didn't come from good breeding, can barely leave the house on a good day, can hardly talk to cashiers and makes Eve book all his appointments with Harper,

Eve never forgets to remind Sonny how much he loves him. How much he needs him. How reliable and dependable he is in spite of Sonny constantly falling through on their promises...

There's no doubt in Sonny's mind how much Eve loves him! After all, they don't know another man willing to go through such lengths to put up with him and his anxieties. Willing to whisk him away from his bullshit life and his unsupportive parents, get him set up in a nice little apartment in his ... quaint little town. Sonny couldn't hate it even if he tried.

Everyone has their needs, though.

Sonny is a little too soft for how rough Eve likes to play. His reluctance might be cute in any other instance, but not when Eve is trying to unwind from a nice, long day of work!

He wants a sturdy toy.

"Figuring out how to break it is the fun part." He mentions to Sonny absently while they're watching TV, stroking along the underside of his chin. "They wouldn't replace you. They could never." Eve's face twists into a scowl as he curls a brown lock between his fingers. "But you know, they could spice things up a bit..." Eve trails off at the feeling Sonny shifting, looking up with doubting eyes.

"Don't gimme that...." Eve starts.

"You won't give them more attention right?" Sonny shifts upright, the gravity of his concern weighing Eve to the spot. "Nothing will change? You promise?"

"Nothing at all." Eve squeezes Sonny's hand, a botched attempt at curbing his excitement. "I promise."

new route unlocked: discussions of kidnapping, intense(?) sadomasochism, violence, noncon, stolkholm

Eve starts searching immediately. He's seen some freaks up close, but he's too busy with work to be searching out in the field. He'll keep his eyes peeled at the office, but he's mostly doing lots of google searching and deep web diving for the ideal slut. High tolerance for pain (or maybe not. screaming is fun), history of defiance, willing or unwilling ...

There's so much to choose from. So many aching for money, willing to debase themselves to just get a wiff of his wallet. It's the kind of power no man should have.

Sonny doesn't give much input. He's not as excited about it as Eve would like him to be, but that's okay for now, he should come around eventually when he sees what could be.

With you.

Eve is impartial to buying Orphans from Bailey, but there is also a chance you might get caught if you're snooping around the flats after dark.

He's looking for experience. A bitch that could take a beating and knows how to take a cock is high up on his list, though sluts that like showing off would pique his interest - a good way to get Sonny more on board with the idea in the first place.

Eve is still the primary user of you. You follow him around the house after he gets home and help him undress, help Sonny make him dinner, learn to rollover and let Eve play. He has a seperate room for it.

Where he keeps the toys that you play with.

Sonny is still wary of you, but often Eve's goading can leave him closer with you than he's used to. It's a bit shameful to admit how eager he is to go in after Eve sometimes, when he always gets that terse, crippling urge of wrong in his stomach. Eve remains convincing nonetheless, and the feeling of you wrapped around his cock is never disappointing.

Sometimes it's the flog. One time you were really bad, and it was the hammers and nails. Hardly ever that ever Stolkholm Syndrome sets in. Eve focuses on sensory deprivation, clamps, piercings. Shocks, slicing.

You become very familiar with painkillers.

You look so natural without clothes, he wondered if you'd wear them even if Eve let you.

It gives him... confidence. To see someone at their sloppiest, and knowing he's above that, in a way. He'd get bold enough to start asking his own favors of you. Do you think it's strange if he likes to watch? He can't be bothered to ask, when you do it without hesitation regardless.

He often admires your nudity.

Sonny isn't surprised he ends up liking you just as much. Eve is usually right about those kinds of things anyway.

#eve the charmer #sonny the artist #degrees of lewdity #dol ocs

[spikeinthepunch]

if you told me a few years back i was gonna revive @single-malt-scotch and not drop it in a week and enjoy it genuinely i would have never imagined it. as much as i consume "cringe" content and enjoy things like hot wheels or barbie unironically, there has been a strangely complicated relationship between me and mcyt- for those who have only followed this blog (and even the one i had before this) youd have no idea i was incredibly involved with and enjoyed the old mcyt smp, mindcrack. after my early fandoms in 2010-2012 mindcrack was my thing, for years (the url of that side blog was what i used to have).

no matter how much i try to throw out the disclaimer "if you remember my mcyt days understand i was a teen and im not a weirdo about these people", the reason i even detached further and further over time wasn't purely that i fell out of it (i did, the server started to dwindle) but the.... shame in never wanting to look back at those days came from the automatic association people gained about mcyt over time, and tumblr's rampant witch hunting culture over calling people out for liking "problematic things".

should be said im talking about this shame and callout culture in the context of 2015 tumblr- to now. i was 16 and that stuff was ingrained in my head. it ruined my consumption and joy for media for years. i liked a lot of stuff without problem but i liked them all with intense, fear filled awareness to not unknowingly be ~bad~ but just touching something people could deem problematic. the moment i registered that my behavior as a 13 year old was "bad" bc i wrote mcyt fanfics was the moment i closed off all of that past and decided it was bad, and i was bad, and i could never ever look at it the same way again.

even as i stayed subbed to some of those people out of not wanting to let go of subs i made almost ten years ago- there was no way i was every going back i thought. i looked at mcyt fandom stuff and cringed, and that increased when the distaste of dreamsmp arose-- which ever valid to dislike dream, the wave of cringe culture over dreamsmp and the general concept of mc smps only furthered my shame in the last years. i was told even more in the present now, that mcyt fandom is Bad because its all weird people shipping real people and its strange and youre obviously bad for associating in any form at all. nuance in enjoying gamers on youtube was suddenly lost. even in that period of dsmp getting popular, i couldnt imagine myself getting to this point again, it really was so engrained in me to never consider mcyt a point of joy for myself, when my inability to do so was always tied to shame.

it sounds silly-- but applying this to a broader range of interests? it doesnt matter if im talking about mcyt or something else. it was so hard for me to decide in my head that there was nothing morally egregious about watching people play fucking minecraft on youtube. even if i draw fan art. even if i indulge in the characters they play in a way that isnt strange or crossing their personal boundaries. im not sure what happened to make people decide "mcyt" was a catch all for the Worst of the bad examples for people within such a large community but the moment that happened it made it so hard to feel like i was allowed to like this ever again. i made my existing sideblog in the early summer and i didnt say anything about it. i had it for months and i said nothing. i was so afraid of considering i might have fun, and find joy in this, i wanted to make sure if i destroyed it, it wasnt tied to here and there were no strings attached.

i slid away to enjoy this in peace. and im glad i did in the sense i took away any stressors of just posting straight to my main with little time to decide my feelings. but through the last months i have on and off added it to my pinned post. added it because fuck it, took it down because anxiety. back up, i have nothing to lose.... back down because i saw some post that made me feel bad again.

i am tired of it. the effect of early tumblr culture stress hangs over me even still and it fucking sucks. ive sat here drawing stuff for months on this sideblog unable to tie it to my name for reasons that dont even make sense, out of fear of a reaction from people id never regard or listen to in the first place. that being said im keeping that blog, its on my pinned, im queueing the art to post here whenever i share it, and taking all my old DA art out of storage was a big one to covercome as it uplocked all my old mcyt art to the public again even stuff i felt the most shame for-- by no means was this fandom what it was when i enjoyed it with 30 other people on tumblr 10 years ago... but im finding joy in this again, and my heart swells for every old mutual i see again and im not denying myself that anymore.

#so anyways #this was hard to write actually #i constantly fear someone will pull up old shit or just decide i am bad for #watching a guy play minecraft? legit #fuck this im tired #YES im writing this on thanksigivnh what about ut

[m0tel6mxzzy]

here’s how euphoria s3 can still work:

ngl if euphoria has an s3 i just wanna see all the girls happy in therapy and developing healthy repaired relationships and nate suffering. they need some succession writers pulling cousin greg succession whump levels of pathetic. make that man a loser as kat knew. not bc he isn’t living up to his expectations but bc he feels no shame about the harm he’s caused others. also, more interaction w elliot and nate just awkwardly in college altho i hope elliot meets a nice guy like a jock similar to who derek was and despite their differences, they grow to find happiness. maybe someone straight lace like lexi but social anxiety-ridden like rue and struggles to communicate, but in times of stress blurts out the truth and elliot just laughs bc he knows and is deeply intuitive.

like so far even when i’m in college nate is not relatable, and in fact the moment u get here you’re surrounded by ppl who are sometimes more advanced than u and i wanna see him crushed under that while refusing to improve and it killing him in this graphic, gory manner with intense greek mythological creature horror effects while the girls are motivated in whatever their choose to do w their lives but also make efforts to repair their relationships to one another.

the aesthetics revert to this glittery s1 while cassie adopts a darker, more effy stonem look but simply “darker and messy” but not fully emo like kat was, while dressing how she truly wants to dress w/o influence of maddy, but also in more complex mixed layers and patterns. lots of dark blues, maroon reds, blacks, greys, and silvers. some vivienne westwood archive looks that sounds cute and lexi wore a miu miu dress lol and bc cassie is now embracing her body but for her own sake and not anyone elses w/o feeling like she has to compensate to just exist. for once, she lets herself exist and dress as she wants even if others make fun of her or find it over the top, but it’s her.

and i’m assuming cassie finds friends who don’t give a shit abt her past w the leaks and in fact affirm she was a victim in that situation by those who manipulated her. the context of this is connected to kat, and rue narrates the negatives of what lat went thru similarly and closes the gap w her by acknowledging her presence (which levinson sounds scared to do) now that barbie is no longer present in the show.

also jules and rue seem to have mended things but i hope they talk bc a lot was left unsaid when they didn’t speak. cassie also needs to apologize to maddy bc it’s clear a part of her regrets her actions (ex: flaunting maddy’s abuser in her face) altho cassie is now part of nate’s abusive cycle and some of it is out of her control and she feels lonely, and knew inside that maddy and her family held that support nate and his disaffected parents could never replace. she does need to find friends outside of maddy tho bc part of her feels like she can’t always admit the truth to her, and college is the perfect atmosphere for new friends who acknowledge but don’t hate the old you.

it’s clear cassie never liked nate and liked the idea of someone who disregarded her past (even if she doesn’t know he was in on the reason the entire school demeans her) and i’d also like rue and lexi being roommates. lexi might be a writer but consider something else more “practical” like a stem field, and rue is undecided but considers becoming a child psychologist. i see jules as an artist that often brings awareness to childhood psychiatric abuses in her art as she grows popular, and moves to ny w maddy eventually

maddy and jules remain friends, and maddy decides to leave in east highland but adapt to college there first, as all she needed was a transition from her traumas associated w high school, and majors in fashion design, marketing, and fashion sustainability while also acing math bc surprise suprise this girl remembers everything. cassie i’m not so sure of, i think she’d be an excellent public speaker (obviously lmao) but i’m not sure what career she’d map out

***also nate’s secret brother, tyler, and anna are addressed

#my thing w the show is that a lot of the characters are multi dimensional on the drawing board #but levinson often has this pretentious or repetitive execution that defeats the purpose of whatever societal issue he was trying #to commentate on #euphoria hbo #rue bennett #jules vaughn #cassie howard #maddy perez #elliot euphoria

[fairycosmos]

in the middle of my a levels and this close to giving up and offing myself. literally why is the school system like this

hey, god i'm so sorry - the stress of it all is so unreal and it's continuously astounds me that they put young ppl through it. but you're right, it IS the school system and that's all it is. what i mean by that is that it's designed to instil feelings of shame and failure and low self worth into its students on the basis of judging intelligence via a very singular and narrow standard. what you're going through right now isn't because of you or anything you've done, and it will pass. academia wants you to feel like you neurotically need to prove yourself over and over or your whole life will be ruined, that's the line of thinking the whole institution spins on. a symptom of capitalism, really, where productivity dictates all. but it’s an illusion, it’s not the case and it's never going to be.

the truth is you're doing more than fine. the truth is also that it doesn't matter anywhere near as much as they want you to think it does. i'm not saying education isn't important or that it's not worth prioritising, because it absolutely is. but the bottom line is that you could bomb your a-levels, drop out of school, throw out the life script and never meet any conventional milestones ever - and you would still have a life to build, still be a wonderful person, still have a million reasons to stick around. you're very young, and i mean that in the best way. you'll live and die a thousand lives and mindsets and situations by the time you're my age, even - 21. it's really hard to conceptualise when you just haven't had that growth yet but i promise it is coming, so try to keep that in mind and breathe through the present until it returns to a manageable state, bit by bit.

i understand that it's extremely hard to internalise all of this, especially when you've been in what is basically a pressure cooker of deadlines and anxiety for forever. and i hope this doesn't come across like i'm saying it's easy to keep going under such heavy circumstances, because i know it's not. you must be exhausted, and it's not fair at all. it's alright to be tired and fed up and at your wits end, anyone would be. but i hope at the very least you're able to entertain the idea of talking to someone, or taking a small break and putting some of your time and energy toward self care if that's what you need. i promise, there is no shame in it and it sounds like it's getting to the point where you really need to think about your health - which will always always always be more important than your grades, no exceptions.

do you think talking to your parents, a counsellor, a mate or even a trusted teacher etc is possible for you? there's also mental health hotlines and online resources to reach out to. it's important to talk through your thoughts and feelings with someone if you're in a dark place to get them out of your mind, to give you some perspective. implementing small daily coping mechanisms into your routine can help too - meditation, journaling, identifying your own triggers. they can offer some real mindfulness and clarity. these things are not cures, and i know they don't match up to the intensity and seriousness of suicidal feelings, and that they often feel embarrassing and stupid and annoying to have to do. but when done consistently, they can stop you losing it all at once. even staying open to these options in your head is a good place to start, and i hope you're able to with time despite how much of a drag it all feels. i'm sending you a huge hug - please know that it's ok to prioritise your own needs, and to basically fuck off the system from time to time. i'm proud of you. take it easy for a while, it's okay.

resource 1 / resource 2 / resource 3 / hotlines

#anon #tw suicide

[writing-domain]

There’ll be peace when you are done

Summary: Duncan overthinks his conversation with Halt after the Ranger's return from Skandia and comes to certain conclusions.

Mostly introspection

Characters: Duncan, Crowley, Halt and Will

Read on AO3 here

Words: 2067

Chapters: 1/1

Tags: Introspection, anxiety, awkward conversations

Rating: Teen and Up

Gen

Excerpt under the cut:

Duncan wasn't a stranger to regret. In the course of so many years as a ruler, he had made enough mistakes to familiarise himself with the idea. No, what drew him into deep contemplation this time was different. It was an intense emotion he thought he’d got rid of in his early youth. As much as it pained him to admit it, the king of Araluen was ashamed. The sentiment burned him to the core with a fire he had no means of putting out.

 Shame wasn’t as easily swept under the rug - it crept up on Duncan in the moments he least expected it and demanded his attention. It sizzled in the back of his mind like a dying fire, only to burst into a full-blown inferno when he let his guard down. The worst thing about it was that he      knew     the cause of all that and still had no idea how to restore his peace.

 Recently, Duncan has taken to contemplating his situation during the quiet hours of the morning, although he also managed to doze off in any occasion that involved long hours of talking. It wasn’t unusual for Duncan to be lost in his own thoughts, although the king himself would be hard-pressed to admit that recently, he was becoming increasingly more prone to loosing his focus. It wasn’t that he was overworked, because despite what Cassandra seemed to think, Duncan was capable of setting his own boundaries.

 Now he found himself in a meeting with a few very influential individuals from Araluen waiting for him, as his mind wandered off and about. A few Rangers were present as well, giving off an aura of aloofness - their trademark demeanour. Most of them were familiar in the sense that he knew their faces and, in most cases, names paired up with their fief. In an unexpected turn of events, the meeting somehow managed to gather both Crowley and Halt.

#ranger's apprentice #rangers apprentice #ra #fanfic #my writing

[not-close-to-straight]

so i've accidentally reread LAL and SSS because i was doing research on kiss scenes (again) and it's been so long since i've actually read them (i don't think i've actually read them since they ended???) but my heart???????? my fucking HEART????????

gods, the flash flood still sends chills down my spine, and so does the fire. knowing what's coming doesn't change that in the least. i so badly wish i had the ability to make gifs and/or videos bc i know exactly what the CMT "next time on: Lassos and Lilies" post-episode thingies would look like and i can't share them and it's a damn shame 😭 the drama, the music, the beautifully cut together scenes...

also SSS still holds my entire fucking heart. GODS its so fucking cute, i need more sugar daddy steve because holee SHIT is it the cutest thing in the world. i love that little world you created. yu talk about such heavy things in the best kind of way, and it's the same characters as always, but i fall in love with them all over again and it's just 😭😭😭 ALSO, also this is my favorite version of clint. i love Fair Game clint, he's perfect and adorable, but SSS clint is just somethin else. you got the humor so perfectly right in this story, balanced perfectly with the shitty reality, it's one of my favorites and i'd forgotten it until just now.

OH and another also before i go: something i'm trying to do with my own story right now is showing/saying "i love you" before they actually say "i love you" and that's another reason i'm doing my research with your writing because gods DAMN you do that so well. you can FEEL how much they love each other before they ever even utter the words, that by the time they do, it just makes sense. it's a "well duh" kinda moment.

okay, i'm done gushing now. i've not had a lot of time to read lately between work and my own projects, but i just wanted you to know that i love everything you do, and that i'm using your writing for research purposes for my own stories because you write romance to a level i aspire to 💖 i hope you have a lovely day!!

You “accidentally reread” almost 400k worth of fic for research?

That’s what I saw when I rewatch Thor Ragnarok for the “plot” 😂

Anyway!

The flash flood and fire scenes in LAL are so intense. I worked so hard on them to bring up those like, classic western/adventure film feelings and vibes while also making it gut punch emotionally brutal for my readers. When I set out to write LAL I thought “we’re gonna hit every western trope including flood fire cattle drives a hanging a rich landowner and a whorehouse— all of it” and by god did I try to deliver on it!

And SSS- I’m not saying this lightly, I think SSS might be one of the best stories I’ve ever written. I’m honestly so proud of it. Of Stonys individual journeys, of their dating and falling in love, Tony’s issues and the way Steve is an actual knight in shining armor, BuckyNat with their own story and dynamics, Omega!Clint and how previously AWFUL he is 😂 I think especially with the pandemic SSS hit so hard on so many levels for us, with the money struggles and the loneliness and the fear and anxiety and inevitable relief… plus baby!peter just stole every single scene he showed up and that was excellent.

Doing your research in my writing is just— you have no idea how cool it is to think my writing helps someone else’s writing?? Especially since 9/10 times I’m pretty sure I have no idea what I’m doing 😂 100/100 top tier compliment, THANK YOU

I DO feel like In any media if we get to the “I love you” confession and we’re surprised/not thrilled by it, then it’s not a good story. Unless it’s an out of the blue strangers to lovers unrequited love situation, the actual love confession should feel like a “oh of course they do” moment and not in a boring sort of “saw that coming” way but in a “I can breathe again” sort of moment?

And I try really hard to SHOW it all in my fics, especially the Omegaverse or soulmate trope cos sometimes the actual love story can get rushed through as a result of the mate bond/fated lover dynamic and that’s not why we read romance! We don’t want to rush through to the love confession we want to see it in all these thousand different ways that makes those three words the most important but also sort of the most irrelevant words in the book. We don’t need to read/see/hear them, we already KNOW and when “I love you” can be honestly answered with a joyful “I know”— I mean, is there anything better than that??