#not seriously | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

me-and-my-hyperfixations · 3 months

Text

Astarion when he hears that fandom was discoursing about his sexuality and who he can and can't romance:

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #pansexual #astarion ancunin #fandom discourse #but like #not seriously #shitpost

84 notes · View notes

whispersosoftly · 3 months

Text

There's something wrong with me.

#not seriously

4 notes · View notes

pademelonluck · 7 months

Text

who are your three favourite blogs?

there can be more if you don't want to leave people out, but this just might be a chain post.

reblog and mention, if you want to keep the convention!

#important #mention #hey #you better #or else #not seriously #dw

7 notes · View notes

afieldinengland · 2 months

Text

new labour playlist

#not seriously

3 notes · View notes

orangexmachina · 6 days

Text

why does the human body require so much upkeep

#been dutifully brushing my teeth and using mouthwash and flossing and my dentist said my teeth are decaying #not seriously #he said if i brush harder i should be fine #but still

3 notes · View notes

izayabunny · 8 days

Text

Now charging everyone who perceives me in any fashion a fifty dollar fine.

#not seriously #of course #but oh man #if I could

2 notes · View notes

elliemarchetti · 28 days

Text

Like Perfume You Wear, I Linger

Drabble inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s songs obsessed (stream it because it’s good and the MV is funny) and lacy.

Part 2 of Rotten Petals, Rotten Feelings but you don't really need to read it to understand this. Gwyn's POV because in the end, it’s always the girls that suffers when a man is emotionally unavailable.

Words: 656

Gwyn was aware her obsession was unhealthy. She was ashamed to admit how much she thought about that girl she never even met, and she felt guilty in knowing so many personal and useless things concerning her person. She couldn’t stop though, every new, futile detail like a drug. By now, she had found out her star sign and her blood type, she had seen every movie she had starred in, staring at her impeccable and smart characters like she wanted to get hurt, and visited a couple places she had been to.

If she told anyone without providing context, they would think she was enamoured. She even read the books she cited in her captions on Instagram, but she never dared to hit follow, because she was her boyfriend’s ex something. They had never been together, they had only kissed once, but they had slept in the same bed, so she was sure he was, at some point, in love. If she had been a man, or if she had been into girls, she probably would have too: Elain Archeron was a talented, dazzling starlet, with eyes as pretty as the daisies she cultivated, lips plump like ripe cherries, and hips as sexy as Brigitte Bardot’s. Gwyn had tried to rationalize, to tell herself she was just a person and not a goddess made of angel dust that descended on the Hell they called Earth just to get on her nerves, but she failed, and her rotten mind loathed her because she seemed the greatest thing to ever exist.

She despised her jealous eyes and how hard they fell for her, but she had come up with a code name to talk about her with her best friend nonetheless, in case Azriel accidentally stumbled into one of their chats. Lacy, or as Emerie liked to say, Lacy skin-like-puff-pastry. The poor girl didn’t deserve all this bitterness – she even spoke kindly of her, her compliments like bullets on Gwyn’s skin. She knew she was butthurt only because she didn’t deserve her sweetness, and it was all her unresolved issues’ fault, but she could swear she still felt the ghost of her body when she was sleeping in Azriel’s bed, and every time he called her name in the morning, she held her breath, fearing to hear the one of his previous lover.

Truth be told, everyone described her boyfriend as uncharacteristically besotted, and knowing they had both moved on and they surprisingly didn’t talk anymore, she should’ve stopped worrying, but they also kept repeating how Elain was the life of every fucking party, and they kept remarking how easy-going and never controlling she was, and it was inevitable that she was still friend with his friends – two of them were with her sisters – but their chatter unknowingly made her upset and unable to get over it.

“Do you ever think about her?” she had asked one night, on the way home, to her unassuming boyfriend. Azriel had taken a fraction of a second too long to answer, and Gwyn, stomach all in knots, had quickly told him that it was fine if that was the case, that she didn’t care, but the reality was she wanted to know everything, if he regretted never having pushed the relationship further, if he ever imagined a future with her, whether he had idealized what they had and if she would ever be enough. It was taking over her life, and she started to see her beautiful enemy wherever she went, the sweetest torture she could bear. “You’re losing it,” her sister had told her one day, when she had found her stalking her TikTok page for the umpteenth time. Maybe it was true, but she once had the only thing she wanted, and even if it was Gwyn and not Elain who was Azriel’s girlfriend now, something told her he had left her a piece of his heart forever.