#music posting on my fandom account again
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It gains the more it gives
And then it rises with the fall
So hand me that remote
Can't you see that all that stuff's a sideshow?
Such boundless pleasure
We've no time for later now
You can't await your own arrival
You've twenty seconds to comply!
--Let Go, by Frou Frou
#music posting on my fandom account again#because emotion#THIS SONG#IS#EVERYTHING#DONT MIND ME JUST FEELING EMOTIONS#frou frou#let go#just get in#oh its so amazing here#its alright#cause there's beauty in the breakdown#ugh you guys don't understand how much this song makes me feel#music#quotes#lyrics#song lyrics#music lyrics#good music#music reccomendations#good vibes#poetry#this song qualifies as poetry so screw you#<3 uwu
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was I the asshole for telling my followers to sabotage a hispanic artist?
(13 <– to find this)
this happened awhile back but I'm remorseful and I want to know if I was the asshole or if I'm just overthinking.
I (24NB) had a pretty big TS fan account on twitter (I said "had" bc I'm no longer active). her music saved me from suicidal ideation, helped me get rid of my anxiety, and overall it was always very comforting to me. her music accepted me for being non-binary when most of my irl friends didn't. I felt like I belonged.
in recent years a certain hispanic artist started to get famous and well known and tbh I don't know how or why, all he sings about is his dating life, his sex life, how much money he has... unlike TS who crafts feminist masterpieces. this guys music wasn't my cup of tea and I realized he already had more views than her on youtube and he was the number one artist on spotify for a few years so um. I was honestly VERY angry that taylor's hard work was gonna go to waste again because of a man. so long story short I told my followers to sabotage this hispanic artist and also encouraged them to stay away from/talk less to their hispanic friends for awhile. as far as I know most of them agreed with me.
my wake up call was being accused of being a set up account (a set up is an account made by someone who is not from a fandom pretending to be in order to make said fandom look bad) after that post of mine was shared on reddit even though they censored the @. since that day I stopped being active on that account, tbh because I was ashamed of myself. I feel like an asshole but my closest friends from within the fandom constantly tell me a real fan is not ashamed to show love and support and that what I did was genius. so the worst part is despite being remorseful I still somehow feel like I'm failing her and the fandom.
was I the asshole?
What are these acronyms?
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Please refrain from grabbing my art and redistributing them in your accounts, because it appears as if you made them. Reblogs are here for a reason: because they link back to the artist and give them the credit they deserve. Please support us by reblogging our art or sharing by directly giving access to the original posts we make!
Some other personal thoughts:
I'm only uploading my stuff on Tumblr and Reddit because twst is very personal for me. I don't want the stuff I make for this particular fandom to be taken out of context and given new meanings, like what happens when people see them on mainstream platforms like Twitter. It's happened to me on Genshin and other otome games I've made stuff for; with my art being used for music videos on TikTok, my casual intimacy sketches used for horny thirst traps instead of the comfortable romance they're meant to be, dialogues in heartfelt comics are even changed for some reason, and other uses I've never consented to. I've learned to ignore these and accepted them as beyond my control at this point. But for twst, I'd have wanted to be as quiet as possible as it's a piece of my personal life that's most precious to me at the moment.
Since the start of twst en, Tumblr has become a sort of the peaceful home I turn to after a hectic day. Here I can scream about my interests as loudly as I can, without people looking at me weird for it and telling me to act like the proper lady I should be. This place is where my selfish heart is; a place where my problems are nonexistent, where I don't constantly have to divide myself between people who need me; where I don't have to be the reliable sister, the dutiful daughter, the caring lover, the diligent student, or the obedient worker. I'm just me.
But it looks like I can't keep it idealistically "private" within a small circle of like-minded people anymore. Recently there's been multiple cases of people redistributing my works here and there because "they found it on pinterest", it's at the top of google search, or some such. I'm actually not angry because as I've said, it's out of my control, but it's looking like I need to stretch myself again and start posting in other platforms just to maintain a direct link between myself and my works. I don't want others to receive praise for my hard work. I want to have the ability to contest an artwork's message when it's being manipulated to suit other's interests.
This is just a small rant, but it's really very personal to me. My little notes about Malleus, my heartful interest, are important to me. Thank you so much for listening and I hope you continue supporting me by helping me keep a link to my original posts by, like I've said, reblogging. 🫂
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TW ANTISEMITISM. THERE WILL BE DEPICTIONS OF ANTISEMITIC ARTWORK AND TEXT IN THIS POST.
Okay so, this is not the kind of post I normally make, ever, nor a sort of post I ever wanted to make. But this is an incredibly important issue that goes beyond fandom stuff, and I've talked with a few other people about it to confirm that it is something concerning.
I want to start by saying that I am not Jewish, but I know that you should never let antisemitism get its foot in the door. (If anyone who reads this is Jewish and needs to correct me on anything, please do so immediately.)
This was posted to the tags yesterday:
[ID: A screenshot of a post from @/liu4ka. The caption at the top reads "well he looks at me / and i look at him / and then he smiles" in very small, stylized text. The image below is artwork of Otto, facing right, with his eyes squinted and his mouth in a skewed, toothy grin, with his hands held up in a strange way. /end ID]
This picture looks perfectly fine at first glance... but the thing is, that caption you see there was not the original caption. I managed to get a screenshot of it before it was changed, and the original caption was this:
[ID: A screenshot of the original caption of the above post, which reads "well he looks at me / and i look at him / and then he smiles like sly jew" /end ID]
That's... a weird way to describe a smile. I'd wondered if this was referencing something, and apparently the first two lines are lyrics from a Weird Al song, but the third line is definitely not. That was making alarm bells ring in my mind, along with the pose Otto was in (which I'll explain in a moment).
Still, I wanted to give this user the benefit of a doubt, because it's entirely possible to unknowingly say something that sounds Bad. So I looked at their other account on VK (which is a Russian website that is, as I understand it, similar to Facebook--they have the same name there and post some of the same art). It didn't take me long before I found... this (photo taken with the google translate app). (I hate sharing this, but I need to show proof here):
[ID: A photo of a computer screen taken from the Google Translate app. It features a character facing right, with their eyes narrowed and with a toothy grin on their face and their hands clasped in a specific way in reference to the "happy merchant" Nazi meme. The caption reads "SCARY JEWISH MUSIC PLAYS." /end ID]
It's not in the screenshot here, but the post this was in also had a song linked with it whose title directly referenced the "happy merchant" meme.
If you're not familiar with that meme, please look it up, as I'm NOT comfortable putting that image on my blog. But it's an image people should be familiar with because it is VERY FREQUENTLY referenced by white supremacists and nazis, and that's what's being referenced here.
Obviously not every single piece of art with a character giving a sly look is going to be a reference to that meme, but CONTEXT is important. The Otto image isn't posed exactly like the meme--the hands are not the same--but alongside the original caption AND given the other art this same artist has drawn, I don't think there's any room for doubt here.
What also doesn't help the case is that there was misinformation going around that Otto was canonically Jewish, so I don't think any of this is coincidental.
I feel awful writing this stuff up. I never wanted to make a post like this, but this was a case where I felt like I should not remain quiet. Once again, this is something that goes beyond fandom. Antisemitism is not something you ever, EVER want let through the door, ANYWHERE. I do not want it in this community, and you shouldn't either.
If any member of the Jewish community wants to correct me on anything or add to this, please do so.
Thank you.
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Hi! I absolutely love all of your detailed posts about Richard, they make my day when you post them, I was wondering if you could make a compilation of very wholesome moments with fans? I'm afraid that Rammstein will never come back to the US and I'll miss my chance of meeting him in person and I'd love to see some sweet fan interactions ❤️ Dankeschön ❤️❤️
Hi 🤍
Please excuse my late reply to this, but I love this ask!
It's known that Richard can be very warmhearted towards fans and gives out bone-crushing hugs left and right - I found several accounts of fans who met him and will accumulate these in the following post 😊 (sources are linked at the end of the post.)
First some stories of fans who shared their experiences on the internet:
One fan met him before a concert, he gave the fan a hug and they say that to this day, they haven't forgotten the feeling of this hug.
Here's an account of a fan who met Richard at a resort in Mexico: "Richard never acted like we were imposing on his time or being a hindrance, even though he was with a table of friends. As soon as we were in eye contact range, his entire demeanor changed. He lit up like a Christmas tree and stood to shake our hands, stood close to us to chat for a few minutes - five minutes, tops, and gave us hugs as we left before shaking our hands again."
After a concert: "The hug I got was bone crushing. I was right in front of him. Cried my way through Frühling [...]. He checked on me and asked me if I was ok. Said i was fine and even the amount of times I'd seen them play, i got so caught up in the emotion. Richard told me they were the most moving moments for him at least and pulled me into a huge hug that if i think about it, i can still feel. Sounds weird but when you get a hug like that you dont forget it."
Richard seems to be a bit camera-shy while being out and about (declining selfies most of the time), but offers/asks for hugs himself as a return, as told by a fan who met him at the Chicago Airport. The fan apologized after asking for a selfie, yet Richard immediately asked her to give him a hug afterwards.
At a concert at the Palace of Auburn Hills in Detroit back, May 2012: "For some reason, I thought of making a sign that said "Pick für mich, bitte". We were right at the barricade and I decided to flash the sign. I don't even know what I expected out of it. Well, Richard fucking Kruspe went to his mic stand, got a pick, went to the security guard in front of the railing and told him to give me the pick. The guard and I had chatted prior to their performance, so he looked at me with a "way to go, kid" look. People around me cheered. Best concert memory ever. Nothing but a class act."
Another fan reports him being quite talkative and attentive during parties - apparently really listening to the other person and showing real interest. He really likes to talk about music and guitars and seemingly likes hearing the opinions of fans.
Meeting the band in front of their hotel: "His hug was the tightest, and he smells SO GOOD, I wanted to ask what was his perfume. I told him I loved Emigrate, he gave me the biggest smile and thanked me."
Then we have voice from withing the fandom on here - the lovely and helpful @anwiel13 said this about meeting him at a Meet&Greet (thank you again for sharing this! 🤍):
"Once he entered the room, we immediately know it. Not that he did something, but he really has this big personality, in very good way. He was smiling all the time, unless taking photos, than we was all his gothic deep stare self. He was also super nice to two girls, who were absolutely nervous, telling him how much they love him. We all know he hear this all the time, but he really looked like he is listening them and make them feel not like crazy fangirls annoying him with their feelings. If that's make sense. He hugged one girl when she asked him and again, did not looked like she's annoying him with this. He left very quickly after taking photos and signed our things. Overall, he was very nice and caring. I heard somebody complain about him being all snobby and annoyed during some M&G, but he was nothing like this during the one in Prague."
Plus I have found two 'essay'-posts on here describing fan-experiences at Meet&Greets and afterparties:
Here Richard is described as really warmhearted, smiling and patient with the fans:
A very wholesome interaction (with a cute Paulchard momet) with a fan who brought selfmade fan art with her:
And since of course I found some experiences with other band members on my research-way, here are my favourites of some of the other guys 😊:
At an afterparty: "I spent a long time talking to Flake who is beautifully underappreciated. He's such a wise man with an incredibly dark sense of humour. [...] Flakes English isn't great but he seemed to really appreciate that someone would talk to him in German and happy to help me figure out words I wasn't familiar with and vice versa. I really appreciated it as he did slow down his natural German speaking speed to help me continue a conversation in German as native speaking speed was just a little too fast."
At a meet and greet: "Schneider gave me such Dom-Daddy vibes that I would have got on my knees if he asked. He was so friendly, asked about myself and I was able to give him a letter from my best friend who had spoken to him years before, and he was so happy to take it."
At an afterparty of Till's solo tour (London concert): "I went to see Lindemann in London and was invited to the after party and ended up trying to open a bottle of wine with a set of keys with Till and then ended up drinking vodka and chatting to him for a few hours. Such a humble human and one of my biggest role models in life - he made me want to become a fire performer and he said I looked great doing what I do."
"Did a meet & greet on the 2019 tour and a bunch of the after parties. Doom is an incredible dancer and Paul and Richard give the best hugs." (I've read several times that Schneider seemingly kills it on the dance floor 👀)
Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6
All in all, it's always amazing reading about fans having nice experiences with them - but let's not forget (since some people do exactly this), the band members are also just human beings like you and me, don't owe the fans smiles and good moods, and it's not a crime to have a bad day once in a while (with less enthusiastic interaction with fans) or just wanting some peace or being in a hurry, since they all do have private lives🤝🏼
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PSA: Back up your blog, check your tumblr e-mail for copyright strikes
Hi everyone, after suddenly losing my account with main blog + sideblogs last week, I would like to share the following warning with y'all. Not to scare you even though it is shitty, but to raise awareness. If this somehow results in me getting kicked off the platform again, so be it lol.
If you post anything fandom* related on your tumblr blog**, whether that's gifs, screenshots, videos, cosplay pics or even fics (?), you may risk getting a copyright strike (up to 3 in 18 months) or even immediate account termination. The chance is still rather small, but just know that it can happen.
*I say fandom in the broad term, so blogs that post about movies and series, anime/manga, games, celebrities, models, sports/olympics, etc. and it goes for gif and fic creators too. Not just accounts that post music or videos for example.
**I say tumblr blog, but this goes for all of the internet ofc. People have been getting this problem on any platform, from insta to etsy, youtube and twitter.
Disclaimer: I am no legal expert, just an unlucky blogger who lost her silly multifandom fic blog after 7+ years.
This will be a bit long and detailed so I proceed under the cut!
What can you do?
...To make sure you don't suddenly lose days, months, and years of content:
CHECK THE EMAIL LINKED TO YOUR TUMBLR. I know a lot of people don't do it, myself included. Tumblr does send warnings (though not always). It wouldn't have changed anything for me because I wouldn't want to appeal - since I don't want to go into this "fair use" discussion for just a fic & editing blog. I personally don't know the chances of retrieving your blog if you protest against the claims, so can't say much about that.
Back up your Tumblr blog if you can. Also save your Tumblr chats with people dear to you if you can. Account termination seems to work differently than deactivation. I was still able to see chats with people who deactivated long ago. But my blog that got terminated has vanished from everyone's DMs and ask boxes à la Thanos snap. I mourn my years of Tumblr chat with my best friend. It was not as if we even considered exporting/copying it just for the memories of the start of our friendship. But now that it's entirely gone, hehe, well. It is sad.
Save URLs and masterposts outside Tumblr. After losing your account, for I thiiink about 24-48hrs (I didn't clock, but it was temporary) you will be able to access it at least temporarily through cachedpages, if you have the URL. It doesn't seem to work for everything, but most of my Tumblr posts I could still see shortly through this site, even after I got wiped off the platform. I did this by googling my tumblr username + certain keywords, and the posts would pop up and give me the URL.
...To prevent getting copyright strikes and losing your account?
Probably nothing - but like I said, I'm not the expert, just the fool who lost her account. The termination e-mail will give you a numbered URL so it's not easy to see which post resulted in the account loss, but for me the keywords were:
-
-
Despite the 7+ years of posts, many followers and a lot of memories, I did not gain anything else from this blog and didn't think it was worth the (legal-) risks and effort to try and get it back. It would require filing an objection against the copyright claims with personal info from home address to name, and consenting to USA legal law stuff.
Even if I don't know the exact details, I'm sure they're not wrong, because whether it's fair or not, most fandom stuff has copyright issues in the end, so I can't protest against the claims with 100% certainty it won't get me in real trouble. Besides, I read about similar cases, lost cases, and admitted defeat right away.
They work with manual reports and most dangerously, bots, who seem to be randomly picking unlucky people to take down their posts and possibly the entire account.
So besides putting an entire halt to fic writing, gif making, video editing and other fandom indulgement, or the inconvenient act of censoring every single word and image, I don't think there is a way to entirely prevent getting targeted.
The one that treated me to the strikes leading to account termination was a certain Mr. Green who seems to have targeted mostly people on Etsy. But apparently now also on Tumblr. More about this I can share here for further information. I also share some other links that can inform you about how far the copyright problem can go. Again, no reason to panic. It's rare and I was unlucky. But it happens.
About Mr. Green, using bots all over the internet to take down fandom related material:
Tumblr post about his attack on fandom.
Long detailed doc from an Etsy user.
Insta post about also loss of Etsy account.
Also Etsy related, but same Mr. Green and his bots taking down something only because it used the NAME of an anime character.
Tweet about him and his company not being officially contracted but getting compensated.
About copyright claims on Tumblr - they are still rare, no panic, I just call it russian roulette and these are all unlucky people like me :')
Post by user @/marilynjeansiims about claims against users who post about Sims, including a petition against it.
Post by user @/happyheidi about Moomin posts facing issues.
Post by user @/hanyusan about olympic related claims.
Example by user @/koov about what a vague copyright warning looks like.
Good news, post by user @/yunghos about getting their account back after filing a counter notice. It seems to be possible.
Post by user @/iamkatehardy about getting a strike for using a gif.
Post by user @/stxrshxpxd about getting their acc terminated for no 100% clear reasons.
Post by user @/tekweela about getting terminated mercilessly because of a reblog.
Post by user @/fromanotherroom-revived about losing their account with similar advice as I write here.
Post by user @/ladyphasma about gifs and US law
Knowing this won't bring lost accounts back, or change the law, I do hope at least you can be better prepared just in case it happens... Better prepared than I was at least.
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Hi, again. 👋
I found the post you were talking about. The stan's account was deactivated, but yeesh. 😬 Nice replies to them, btw.
The stan that bashed on me said I was being misogynistic, even though I'm a black woman who just wanted to see another black character get their chance to shine.
Hell, it's not just the shows and movies (I think this all started with Endgame). It's also the Steve Rogers musical too. I don't know if you know about it, but Disney made the musical real, and it really did Sam and Bucky dirty.
Sam isn't even in it. Maybe he was mentioned once, but the musical showed an image of Sam as Captain America. As for Bucky, his scene from CA:TFA, where he saved pre-serum Steve, was given to Peggy instead. Bucky was mentioned once, and the musical tried to justify Steve's ending from Endgame. All for this ship.
And, frankly, I don't hate Peggy, I'm just more annoyed that other characters get shoved aside as well as this great dynamic that Steve and Bucky had, while she and her ship with Steve has been getting propped up more and more. But, seeing some of your and the others' posts, I get why you guys don't like her.
Girl, don’t get me started on the abomination that was Rogers the musical. It could have been glorious, it had so much potential, but once again Bucky’s role in Steve’s story was given to Peggy, and Sam wasn’t even there!
I feel like Marvel feels the need to tone down Stucky or their friendship overall because it was just too powerful. We all remember the hashtag that begged Marvel to make Stucky Canon, #givecaptainamericaaboyfriend. They just couldn’t let it happen, not to a main and important character like Steve, god forbid. And so ever since civil war Stucky has always had little to no scenes together no matter how well established it was in previous projects. All their scenes and dynamic were given to Peggy, their friendship was toned down, Steve’s whole ending happened. It just feels like Stucky is so menacing to Marvel that the only way to stop us is by destroying Steve, Bucky and their relationship.
I mean, Steve is given no justice in his ending and in all the other projects he appeared in. Bucky went from a victim and prisoner of war to someone who must make amends for things that were beyond his control. And the depth of their friendship was toned down and reduced every time Peggy was involved. And then they wonder why many people in the fandom dislike Peggy or why the whole Rogers the musical initiative flopped the second it went beyond Hawkeye.
Like, even if you don’t ship Stucky you can tell that they care for each other, and you can tell there was a shift after people actually wanted Marvel to take action and do something about this dynamic. Steve can’t get even one episode as his own character because Peggy must be there. Bucky had more luck, but still… and let’s not even talk about Sam, his only appearance was as a zombie!
In another post of mine I ranted about how bothered I was that Peggy was inserted in the 1602 storyline, and i haven’t changed my mind. It would have been so nice to give Steve one episode about himself, about his dynamic with his best friend and about the relationship with himself and his fellow avengers. But no, Peggy must be there too, and for no good reason as well.
I feel like Marvel trying to erase pre-existing relationships to have Peggy shine only results in fans turning their back on Marvel and hiding in fanfiction or whatever piece of media that can actually bring justice to the characters. Once someone on Tumblr said “you gave us the characters, but once you mess them up they’re not yours anymore. You don’t understand and respect them, therefore you don’t deserve them.” and I couldn’t agree more, which is why I am currently reading and writing fanfiction rather than buying into everything marvel gives us.
Peggy was the love interest with more screen time even before what if and all that jazz, she had her own show! And I fear that the day Marvel will realize that pushing a reimagined Nazi turned Mary Sue into every single what if episode where she can fit instead of enhancing the characters that are actually relevant in-universe it will be too late.
Sorry about the rant, I get carried away when it’s about my boys lol
#Steve rogers#pro Steve rogers#anti endgame steve#bucky barnes#pro bucky barnes#stucky#pro stucky#steve x bucky#anti peggy carter#anti steggy#marvel critical#mcu critical#what if#sam wilson#pro Sam Wilson#sam wilson is Captain America
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Hey! Welcome to my (mostly) art blog. You can refer to me as Crunch here. Enjoy your stay!
🎨 Art info - using my art as your pfp, banner, edits, etc. is OK with credit! Reposting my art is OK only in places where i DON'T have an account, with credit, with the exception of pinterest (i have an acc there but it's OK to repost there with proper credit/link to og post) and i don't mind RP accounts etc. if credited properly. Don't crop out my tag from images or edit them out (exception is a cropped pfp). I don't do requests all the time, only if i make a post about it :] art comms normally closed but i occassionaly make an exception or offer a couple slots.
💚 My main favs change every couple of months, but FNAF and Dynasty Warriors are fandoms i've been in the longest, since 2014, so i always tend to come back to them :] I also enjoy Sonic (specifically non-game media) and have a lovehate relationship with Gorillaz (i just like the art, Murdoc and the music rn). Also got into Sam & Max.
💜 General likes are anything halloween-y, animals, birds and insects; emo, scene, visual kei and dark style of clothing and hair, cute and goofy plushies, and if i ever start talking about cooking or food, Run. I love drawing, sewing, crafting, p much anything creative. I collect furbies, they're my favs :]
❌️ I do not want any terfs and hate towards trans people here, hate towards furries, therians, otherkins, hate towards things people consider "cringe" and i dont answer any weirdos. I don't like bringing heavy topics here unless it's very serious. I have a "live and let live" approach to things, so unless you're doing something actually harmful and/or illegal, i tend to not judge or care. Be nice.
🖤 This is a lgbt safe space. I'm transmasc. He/they prns are interchangeable, it pronoun is okay (think of me as a little bug or a small monkey like my fursona is). I also consider myself unlabeled, but looking into the demi and ficto labels...
‼️ Being overly familiar with me is mostly okay UNLESS it comes off as rude (like calling me "little bro", "bitch", etc. or talking to me as if we were year long friends when you're a total stranger, messaging me for the first time, non-follower etc.) Again, be nice. I sometimes use some tone tags.
👽 English is my learned language so sorry if my vocab is lacking. Sorry if i come off as too serious or deadpan, i have a hard time expressing excitement most of the time. Also everything i post is not super serious, im just a pro hater and gotta meet my quota from time to time 😈 /j and when i theorize it's all just for fun! That's what it should be about!
🔗Links:
☕️ You can support me here :] (kofi)
🧷 My Spacehey that i rarely go to
🖍 My Telegram if you wish to talk about art commissions (contact admin)
🐰 TSE Dave telegram sticker pack
🎨 Aggie link
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AITA for making a Tik Tok talking about people behind their back? (Tldr at the end)
Well, me and my friends (all kinda 18-19?) Saw a Tik tok where you had some music playing while a word appeared on screen (like "asshole", "smart", "would kiss", "fake") and you would search for a pic of a person you think reminds you of that characteristic and show it to your friends.
The point of the video is mostly to show your reactions. You aren't supposed to say names or show the pictures to the camera.
Well we thought it would it would be fun to do between us just for giggles and since we wouldn't post it anywhere we didn't really use the Tik tok format.
We said the characteristic out loud, looked for the photo and showed it to each other filming our reaction and our comments.
Just really making a point of this: no names or pictures appeared on camera.
Well we made our video had our fun yada yada.
For some reason, people on our class started quoting and mocking us about this video a few days later. And we found out that one of the people from the friend group actually posted that video on tik tok and it got crazy popular on our college.
Some people started to say some really hateful things to us while also saying stuff like "how could you call x person that" or "how dare you talk about y person behind their back".
Idk why some people had felt hurt about our video since we didn't say nicknames, a name or any defining characteristic besides some pronouns here and there.
But even so, I was extremely embarrassed that this video was out in the open and being talked about in the campus (I swear idk how it got that popular) and actually apologized to my whole class about this incident cuz I couldn't bear the shame of it all.
Well, it was not a happy ending but I thought it would be an ending at least.
It was not.
Some guy (that I have beef for other reasons) sent this video to a gossip account on Twitter and they actually posted it with a caption of "Girls from x college are cyberbullying"
That made the flames of this incident grow again and it actually gained the attention of higher ups. We got suspended for like 3 days for "making the media (? Literally a single gossip account) see the college in a bad light"
Reasons I think I'm not the AH : it really was just meant to be a joke between friends, no one was supposed to know. And I think the consequences for it where to big in comparison to my actions (I literally didn't talk on the video but I participated)
Reasons I think Im the AH: talking behind people's back is shitty af
So, what do you guys think?
Tldr: made a Tik tok trend with my friend group where we talked about some people behind their back. No names were spoken, but after the video was posted by one of our friends without our consent, it blew up and some people actually got hurt about it. Then, another person sent the video to a gossip account on Twitter who posted it and got the attention of our college higher ups and they us all a suspension
AITA for making that video with my friends?
(pls don't say this is fake or fandom, sometimes crazy stuff happens and that's life (just not yours))
What are these acronyms?
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Looking for art buddies/Introduction
Hello, my name is Brandy, and welcome to my blog! I'm a 20+ art major who has fallen outta my passion for art over the last few years and wants an excuse to get back into it. So, I figured I might as well give Tumblr a try again and see where it goes! My main account is @brandywyne so if you get a follow from that it's me lol I dunno how to follow from side blogs.
I'd love to make some friends on here again and just have a good time and maybe get some art practice here and there. I'm probably going to mainly post fanfiction/fanart for a while as I get back into the swing of things. Might have art requests open too? Haven't decided yet.
Though if you like/do any of the following, please leave a note/reblog/like so we can chat!
Biggest interests to smallest:
☠ World Building (!!!)
☠ OCS (I love making fanart of OCs, please let me know if you aren't okay with that!)
☠ One Piece (Big Kid Pirates fan)
☠ Creepypasta (I was an OG back in 2012 era Pasta community)
☠ Sketching/drawing/art (any medium is cool!)
☠ Summoner's War Sky Arena
☠ Markiplier fan (Been a fan for about 10 years now)
☠ Music
☠ Headcanons
☠ Horror (games/movies/stories/etc)
☠ Fanfiction/stories
☠ Monsters/teratophillia
☠ Journaling
☠ I used to be in a lot of older fandoms like Homestuck, MLP, Ninjago, SVTFOE, OFF, RPG games, Villainous, New Vegas, Skyrim, DC Comics, Outlast, Evil Within, Samurai Jack, MHA, Hazbin Hotel, and a few others too. Not as big these days but some I still have a mild interest in. Feel free to ask!
NSFW Stuff: I'm fine with general NSFW stuff for writing and art, but because of that I do want to mention the following:
Please do NOT interact if you're a/into: Underage/minor (18+ only please. I'm a little too old to be friends with kids.), pedophile, bestiality, lolicon/shota, incest, age regression, pet play, feeder/vore/inflation, basically anything you'd find on the front page of Deviantart if you catch my drift.
(Edited post to include more info)
#creepypasta#artists on tumblr#one piece#summoners war#horror#worldbuilding#strangled red#fanart#looking for friends#looking for mutuals#kid pirates#mha#villainous#off game#hazbin hotel#writeblr
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Pink Scarf - PART 16 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)
Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
Requested: kinda
(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)
Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years. [ Fem!Reader ]
TW: Rough SEXXX. Restraints. ANGST. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.
Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 7.2k
A/N: Woo, boy, y'all. Get yourselves ready, cuz the snowball is rollin' and the shit storm is comin'. This part is a little bit of everything--a little sweet, a little salty, a little smutty. It's what y'all deserve!
For the flashback, I had E's 1960 It Feels So Right playing in my head on repeat, so if you are one who likes music to set the mood, then you might give it a listen before/during/after you read that part!
As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL and your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋
If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!
I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!
Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.
(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there!)
Graceland, Christmas 1960
The mansion is finally quiet, or at least you’ve managed to find a quiet part of it in the midst of all the holiday revelry. Elvis loves Christmas, and this is his first one home in two years. And the first one without Gladys.
You had thought that maybe his grief would make the holiday a more solemn affair, but he’s gone in the opposite direction. It’s as though his loss has fueled him to make Christmas as joyful as humanly possible. Even though he’s been away filming for most of the month, he still directed the mansion should be decked out in all the Christmas finery for his return. And so it is.
You wish you were more in the spirit to enjoy it. Usually, you would be—Christmas is one of your favorite times of the year—but this year it sits heavy for you. Heavy because if all had gone well, you’d be sharing it with your newborn baby.
The thought brings you to tears again.
You’ve been hiding your grief as much as possible, sliding on a quaint smile, singing carols, and making cookies with the rest of them, but in these solitary moments, you grieve. You cannot help it. You know it’s futile and silly. How can you grieve someone who barely even existed, someone who was never born? And yet, here you are, alone, sitting in a quiet corner of the house at the piano, a couple of glasses too many of champagne in, being sad over what could have been.
So you begin to play. You know practically every carol and hymn by heart, so you just close your eyes and let the music take you away. It doesn’t erase your grief, but it does help you let it out in some way. You barely notice the tears rolling down your cheeks as you play Away In A Manger and What Child Is This?. You let the dramatic chords of O Holy Night linger in the air at the push of the pedals.
And after a bit of playing, that image of a baby in your arms feels fuzzy and faraway. Or maybe that’s the champagne. Maybe it’s both.
The air shifts. You notice it but play on anyway. You’re not sure how, but you are able to sense him, his presence, his essence, as it pushes in around you. But he remains quiet, and your eyes remain closed as your hands continue to fly over the keys.
Elvis does not interrupt, he only watches. You’re not sure why. You feel as though he barely speaks to you anymore. Yes, he is away and busy and all the usual excuses. But he used to seek you out when he returned. He’d bring you silly little trinkets and sing to you and tell you stupid, off-color jokes.
Now, since that horrible day in March, it’s as though an invisible wall has come between you two, and you don’t understand why. It’s nothing overt—he treats you kindly in the group and doesn’t outwardly ignore you. But something significant has changed, you swear it. Perhaps it is your ultimate failure as a woman that has turned him away. Or maybe with the explosion of his stardom since returning from Germany, he just doesn’t have time for you anymore. Maybe it has nothing to do with you at all; maybe he’s just a different man now.
Your tears of grief now include the loss of him, too. Losing your friend is heartbreaking in its own right, much less coupled with the loss of your child, of your fertility. It doesn’t help that Jack has been gone with Elvis on his travels and feels distant, too. You’d initially thought the space would be good for you two, but instead you just feel achingly lonely.
God, you wish you’d never been pregnant at all, as all it seemed to bring you is heartache.
You stop playing and open your eyes. The room is dim, lit only by one of the many Christmas trees in the house, but when you turn towards the door, Elvis is still there, his blue eyes shining with emotion as he leans in the doorway. The man looks ready to weep, which takes you by surprise, as he’s only shown enthusiasm and excitement since being home. You recognize the look though: it’s grief and melancholy, similar to your own.
Then Elvis looks at you unabashedly for a moment, almost like he is really, truly seeing you for the first time in months. The air sits heavy and silent. You don’t bother wiping the tears off your cheeks, though your heart races a bit. Must be the champagne, you think. It certainly isn’t the way he is looking at you now, how you are being laid bare and vulnerable by his intense gaze.
Something builds between you, though you are not exactly sure what, and he suddenly straightens and crosses the room to you. He towers over you now at the end of the piano bench and an overwhelming need to be near him comes over you. It’s as though you are both magnetized to each other, so when he holds out his hand, you cannot help but take it. The warmth of his hand surrounds yours as he pulls you up and into his waiting arms.
You fold into him, your arms tucked into your chest and your head buried into his collarbone as he wraps his arms around you. His spicy, distinct scent surrounds you and his warmth engulfs you and you cannot help the sob that escapes you at the comfort of it.
Elvis holds you close and lets you cry, and you feel his chest shudder and his breath hitch as though he is as emotional as you are. His mother, you think; he’s been hiding his grief as you’ve been hiding yours. You can feel the wetness of his tears against your temple as they run down his face and onto yours, and this prompts you to unfold your arms and wrap them around his torso, comforting him as he is comforting you.
He sways you, moving to the unheard music you assume is always playing in his mind, and pressed against him like this, you can feel the quick and steady beat of his heart pounding in his chest. You don’t remember the last time you were this close to him. He feels bigger, broader than the boy who went to Germany, but is no less Elvis. His sensitive spirit is the same after all.
You are not sure how long you sway there, crying in each other’s arms at your respective losses. But you know it’s more than just that. You know because as your tears start to ebb and you move back the slightest bit, he grabs your hand and pulls you in close, unwilling to part with you. He dances with you now, slowly pulling you back into his silent rhythm.
And you let him. You let his hand clasp yours and he draws it over his heart, holding it there. His heart beats quicker, you think. It’s too intimate now, the way his warm, damp cheek presses to yours, the saltiness of your tears mixing and binding your grief together. The air shifts again, still heavy and thick, but with a million unsaid words hanging there in the silence.
Your heart skips, flutters, and your breath catches. You’re not exactly sure what is happening. But you still let him hold you and sway you in slow circles. His hand splays hot on your lower back, burning through you, setting your body aflame in a way you don’t understand.
But you are a few glasses in and on a roller coaster of emotion and right now the feel of his strong, lean body pressed against yours makes you feel alive in a certain kind of way. You’ve been lonely and you’ve missed him more than you thought. It’s almost as if this is a silent plea for forgiveness from him.
Yes, that’s all it is.
You feel hyperaware of him and his closeness, so when Elvis nuzzles his head against the side of yours, you feel breathless. Your mouth pops open with a puff which, considering his proximity, he must feel, but he does not stop, and you cannot help the way you return the gesture in kind.
His breath is warm in your ear, and you can feel the softness of his lips brush against it, sending a decidedly inappropriate cascade of shivers dancing through you.
Oh, god.
Involuntarily, your hand contracts in his, your nails scraping lightly at his button-down shirt. Elvis presses your palm down onto his heart in response. You feel out of control, completely at his mercy, knowing this is too much, too close, too intimate but you can’t seem to stop, intoxicated by his strength, his affection, his essence.
Elvis’ still-damp cheek lingers against your own, and he presses his forehead gently to yours with a soft sigh. Then he pulls back slowly, just far enough to look at you, and you feel knocked over by his pure beauty. Honestly, you feel absolutely heady as you threaten to tip over and lose yourself in those churning, deep blue eyes of his. And, boy, they are churning, with things you can’t quite grasp. You watch as they search your face, his impossibly long lashes punctuating their every slow move. Holding your breath, your heart speeds up ever faster, and you wonder what it is he seeks in you.
Your sadness and grief feel far away now as he plunders your soul, his gaze so alluring that you cannot even begin to piece through what is going on in any sort of logical way. You don’t understand any of it. All you know is you want more, and that feels forbidden in every way.
As if reading your thoughts somehow, his lips part. His eyes flutter down your face and land at your mouth. A shock runs through you as you think Elvis just might kiss you, and that terrifies you, not just because it would be crossing a line but because in this moment you want him to.
You want to feel his lips soft and sweet against you, then crushing into you. You want his body passionately pressed into yours as you cling to each other in the sparkling light of the Christmas tree. You want his large hands roaming your curves. You want to feel the strands of his dark hair between your fingers as you tug him closer. You want him to make you forget everything but the taste and feel of him.
These wants flash through you in an instant, shocking your system because he is so close that you almost can taste him and panic shoots through you. Never have you let your thoughts truly drift to that place with him, and opening that door feels very dangerous. Suddenly, with a wave of absolute certainty, an intuition you cannot explain at all exclaims that Elvis wants you more than anything in this world.
And that makes you gasp and pull away.
That cannot possibly be true. Nothing about the way he’s acted this past year supports that but something inside you screams that it’s real. It makes no sense. None of it makes any sense.
Elvis blinks and shakes his head as though snapping himself out of a daze. His hand falls from your waist, the spell broken. The soulful look in his eyes flashes with what almost seems like hurt, then apology, then regret. Without a single word, he turns and leaves.
Your heart plummets for reasons you don’t understand.
You must be confused. You are drunk. You are emotional. You couldn’t possibly have read the situation correctly. And yet the feelings awakened in your body surprise you and the look in his eyes haunts you as you sink back onto the piano bench, left alone in the silence.
*
Your eyes pop open at the memory. You had been very drunk that night and hadn’t remembered that moment until this very minute, yet another hidden facet of your long and suddenly complex relationship with your friend making itself known. Elvis had continued to keep his distance from you after that Christmas and had never even alluded to such an intimate moment happening, so you’d had no reason to think anything strange had happened at all. In hindsight, it seems awfully significant and feels like yet another thing he’s keeping from you.
Running it through your mind again, you swear he’d almost kissed you that night or at least had wanted to, which is shocking to you because 1960 was a long time ago. Still more shocking was that certainty you’d had about him wanting you more than anything, which couldn’t possibly be true.
Could it?
You shake off the thought. Emotions were high for both of you that night, and he obviously had thought better of it, but still…that prickle at the back of your mind keeps gnawing at you, those pieces of the puzzle attempting to slot into place. Maybe if you weren’t so damn tired and emotionally spent, you’d be able to figure out what your mind is trying to tell you. Maybe if your body wasn’t still aching with the memory of losing your child and almost dying, you’d be able to think clearly.
And your conversation with Sandy also sits uneasily in your mind. Running away ain’t gonna solve anything, her voice echoes in your head. You wish you had the strength she hoped you did, the strength to tell Jack to fuck off, to tell Elvis how you really feel, but it all feels so overwhelmingly insurmountable that you can barely even entertain the thought.
Heart pounding and wheels turning, you know sleep is out of the question and sit up in the bed. You get up and busy yourself instead. You feel as though you are racing the clock. It doesn’t take long to pack your bag, and while you are not frantic, you are determined. Mentally, you are ready to go. You have to go.
Unfortunately, things are not working out as you hoped they would. When the concierge calls you back with your fight arrangements, he informs you that there are no flights out of Vegas until 7:30am tomorrow morning. It being a Sunday night and with such short notice, there were no seats headed back east to be had. You thank him and reply that of course the morning flight would be acceptable before you set the receiver back on the hook and let out an aggravated scream.
You need out now. You are half inclined to rent a car and drive back to Memphis, but you know that is a terrible idea for a variety of reasons, namely being that you had no idea how to get to Memphis from here and being alone on the road for so long with no preparation sounded dangerous.
Fine, you think, I can make it through the night. I should tell Elvis in person anyway.
The thought makes your stomach churn because you know he will not be happy with this development. You’d rather not see the look on his face, but you also know it is the right thing to do. You just need to steel yourself to see your decision through and not be swayed by his charms.
Easier said than done.
And it doesn’t help that you are running on fumes and adrenaline. With everything that happened last night, the only sleep you’ve had was on the roof and that was short-lived and filled with nightmares. You took a shower after getting back to the room, but your mind is spinning too much to sleep, plagued with returning memories and creeping doubt.
You decide to get ready for the show as originally planned. It’ll be easier to gain access to Elvis between shows to talk if you do so. You dress accordingly, carefully putting on your makeup and doing your hair up nicely to give yourself as much confidence as possible. After repacking your toiletries, you grab your clutch and see the silky pink scarf folded neatly inside.
It takes only a moment for you to decide to put it around your neck. It’ll guarantee that Elvis will make time to see you, and you try not to shiver at the fact that the last time you wore this scarf, it led to a decidedly different outcome than it will tonight. The thought sends both warmth to your core and dread into your heart. You don’t want to leave him.
But I have to.
You shift your thoughts instead to Red, wondering and fearing whatever he might have planned. You don’t know if he is planning to sit on the information he gleaned from your leaving Elvis’ suite this morning, or if he is looking to cause mayhem immediately, though considering Jack has not burst in angrily, you don’t think anything has been said yet.
Either way, you have to warn E, and you have to get the hell out before the shit hits the fan.
The afternoon quickly turns to evening, and you pump yourself up on the way downstairs, despite the nausea in your stomach, the exhaustion in your body, and the ache in your heart. Now that you are somewhat a part of the show, it is easy to get backstage, and while you’re not sure how you are going to be able to wait the few hours the show will take, you continually remind yourself that this is what you must do. You have no choice.
But I do, I do have a choice, a pesky little voice chimes in. Stay.
Shut up.
By the time Elvis makes his way backstage, you feel like you’re about to jump out of your skin. The way his bright eyes light up when he sees you and then how they flash heat when he sees the pink silk knotted around your neck fills you with both desire and anxiety. Being near him weakens your resolve because his charismatic energy rolls over you even from this distance, and he just looks so damn good in that white suit of his, but you knew that this would test you. You force what you hope is a normal a smile, but you see a look of confusion flash over his pretty face before his usual pre-show nerves take over. But he does not come over to you, for which you are grateful.
The show begins with the usual fanfare, and you are surprised that even with everything going on in your head (or perhaps because of it), you still get swept up in the music, still sing the parts quietly that you have so diligently practiced. Regret hits you from another angle, one you did not anticipate. In leaving Vegas, you’ll also be leaving this—the show, the music.
Doubt creeps in in earnest throughout the show, putting your nerves even more on edge. You don’t really want to leave this opportunity, but the problem is you don’t think you have the fortitude to stay and to be able to resist Elvis.
The curtain closes and Elvis is surrounded, soaked with sweat, riding that post-show high that makes him nearly glow from the inside out. He wipes his face with the towel someone has draped over him, and you watch as he pulls Jerry aside with a glint in his eye, presumably to arrange your meet with him. But Jerry leans back and whispers something into E’s ear and that handsome face clouds with dark emotion. Then Elvis finds you past the crowd and his eyes lock on and you know. You know he knows by the hurt and angry look in his piercing blue eyes.
Sandy.
Goddammit.
As Elvis stalks over to you, pushing through musicians and instruments, it’s evident that Sandy has betrayed you. She told Jerry. And whether she meant for him to tell Elvis, you do not know, but your heart speeds up as Elvis crosses the backstage area in long, quick strides, with a wounded and feral look in his eyes that frightens you. It is not at all the same as the jealousy from the night prior; no, this is damage done on another scale.
You cannot help but back up as he approaches, nearly falling back over your chair, but he is on you in an instant, grabbing your arm firmly with one hand and your waist with the other, seemingly uncaring of the confused looks of his entourage that has been left behind so uncharacteristically. Luckily, Jack is nowhere to been seen, but you catch Red’s smirk before Elvis manhandles you into the hallway.
He doesn’t speak, not yet, though you see his brewing temper play over his face. Your heart drops because it is so obvious how you’ve truly hurt him, and he practically carries you back to the dressing room so quickly that you barely have time to register what that means. Once inside, he releases you and you tumble forward before he slams the door with too much force and flicks the lock.
As you straighten, you attempt to brace yourself for what you think you know is coming. Your nerves are on pins and needles, and you can’t help the lightheaded feeling that comes over you as you watch him fume. His chest heaves with both the exertion from his performance and his building fury, which makes for a dangerous combination.
You realize too late that perhaps you didn’t think this through.
“Is it true?” Elvis growls, rounding on you. “Are you trying to leave?” The pain is palpable in his stormy eyes and is layered with indignation.
The words catch in your throat. You finally force yourself to nod, attempting to find your voice in the meantime.
“What the fuck, y/n? What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” his voice raises, as he paces the room like a caged animal. His eyes are icy now, glaring at you in such a way that you feel it to your toes. His white suit clings to him with the moisture of his sweat, which gleams off his tan skin, distracting you.
You finally find your voice. “I’m leaving, Elvis. For my sake and for yours,” you breathe out. Your heart threatens to shatter at the words.
“The fuck you are,” he flips back at you.
“Excuse me?” you huff.
“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, honey,” he points at you sternly.
“That’s not up to you,” you sputter, blinking rapidly.
“The hell it ain’t,” he glares.
Elvis’ eyes flash and he advances towards you. Your heart thunders in your ears and you counter backwards until he has your back against the wall. He grabs your chin with his hand, his rings cutting into you.
“I thought I fucked some sense into you last night, but it seems I fucked it out of you instead,” he purrs dark and low, but it is laced with threat.
You hold back a groan at his words. The sound of his voice and the look on his gorgeous face as he rakes his eyes over you sends both dread and heat through you all at once. You should have known he’d put up a fight. This is why you’d wanted to leave right away. Resisting him feels insane and futile.
“E, Red knows. He caught me coming out of your room this morning, and I just know he’s gonna make trouble,” you ramble out, trying to skirt around him. He boxes you in with his arms.
“Fuck Red. I’ll take care of him,” Elvis spits, eyes flashing but barely giving it a second thought because his sole focus is you. Then you see him eyeing his scarf around your neck. Wordlessly, slowly, he unties it, his calloused fingers brushing the skin of your neck and making you shiver. “Now tell me why you’re really leavin’, honey,” he commands, but the lilt in pitch betrays his sensitivity to those who know him well enough. And you do.
Oh, god, the way his smokey eyes bore into you, intoxicate you, has you frozen and your mouth dry. All the words you prepared to say are gone in an instant. You can’t tell him everything (you can’t), but his hurt and his need to dominate you because of it drives his actions, and you know he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.
“Hmm,” he shakes his head, a darkness overcoming him. “Guess I gotta find another way to get it out of you. Give me your hands,” he orders. You are caught in his gaze and feel powerless to deny him. Begrudgingly, you obey, holding out your hands.
You watch as he ties one end of the silky scarf to your left wrist. It’s tight, but not uncomfortable. Your brow furrows in confusion as he pulls your arms up, and it is then that you notice the bar, which must be used as a clothing rack, attached to the wall above your head.
Your eyes widen and your heart thunders in your chest. “Elvis, what’re you doing?” you squeak out as he wraps the scarf over the bar and attaches it tightly to your other wrist. Your arms are loose and your feet remain planted on the floor, as the bar is not that high up, but you are effectively trapped.
“Well, honey, you keep tryin’ to run away from me and I need answers,” he glowers, amusement playing under his anger.
“Goddammit, this isn’t funny, let me go!” you say shrilly, yanking your arms but only succeeding in making the scarf tighter around your wrists.
“No, you’re right, it ain’t funny at all. Were you just gonna steal away in the dead of night without talkin’ to me?” he asks, the hurt back in his voice.
“No, I…no, that’s not what I wanted…” But it is almost what you did, and he seems to know it.
His eyes flash with realization at your unspoken words, then narrow as he moves closer. You look away, shamed. He grabs your chin again, his rings cold against your skin, and forces you to look at him.
“You are all I’ve been able to concentrate on, ya know that? You’re all I fuckin’ think about. I want you. I want you to be with me. Be with me.” He says it like a pleading promise and a stark demand all at once.
Oh, Jesus, it makes you ache for him in every way. You can feel your resolve crumbling around you, all your reasons for leaving melting into a puddle at your feet.
“We can’t Elvis. We can’t keep doing this. I’m losing my mind,” you say but Elvis has his head buried in your neck now, his lips and tongue dragging across your skin and setting your entire body aflame. Resisting him is like resisting gravity—an impossible feat.
“Why would you do this to me, lil’ mama?” he whispers in your ear, his hand brushing away your hair so his breath tickles against you. The sensation immediately has your body at attention, like a switch has been flipped. Your nerves tingle, your nipples stand at attention with just the temptation of that raspy baritone.
Despite yourself, despite the angel on your shoulder screaming at you, once again, that this is a bad idea, your mouth pops open with a sigh. His other hand cups your cheek as his lips travel over your face, so close that those long, dark lashes brush against you in their wake. This sends another thrill of sensation through you.
It’s agonizing that you can’t touch him, which you know is exactly the point.
Elvis presses you against the wall, and his thumb is dragging slowly over your bottom lip. It takes everything you have to not disintegrate right there and then. The way he makes you feel—it’s like you have no sense of reality when around him like this. He is your drug of choice. And you keep coming back to him again and again.
“Tell me why you don’t want me,” he asks in a boyish whisper, his bedroom eyes deadly serious, filled with anger and hurt and need and lust. All for you. Only Elvis could look so entirely innocent and completely sinful all at once.
His words cut you, as you think he intended. You wish you could make him understand, but your breathing is fast, too fast. You are dizzy from the scent of him, all sweat and musk. He’s dripping with it. Your eyes roll back.
“Dammit, E, of course I want you,” you breathe, “but when we get caught, which we are seconds away from, I’m the one who’s life blows up. I’m the one who’ll have to face the consequences. It all comes back on me, and…I don’t have anything without Jack.” You can’t let yourself forget it.
The way Elvis looks at you now is fierce. He grabs both of your cheeks roughly, his hands like fire against them.
“Baby, you have me, you’ll always have me. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I’ll take care of you, no matter what happens.”
The sentiment hits you sideways, flooring you. He’s staring at you so intensely you feel completely gone, weak. There is nothing else but him.
“Let me take care of you,” he breathes seductively, nuzzling your nose. “Let me be your everything.”
Oh, sweet lord…
“Elvis…” His name escapes you like a hushed prayer. You are defenseless against him, your heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird, stealing your breath away completely.
The temptation of what he is saying is so strong that you want to give in to him immediately. It’s almost everything you want to hear, which is the problem. You think he’ll say anything to get what he wants. You love him, but you know he’s a master at manipulation—it’s how he’s so damn good at his craft. It’s how he so effectively hypnotizes the masses. You think half the time he doesn’t even realize what’s he’s doing, but knowing him as you do, you know he is too shrewd for ignorance.
But part of you refuses to believe him, what he’s saying, even now. Part of you is still reeling from the pain and the fear of your recently uncovered memories. And the fact is, he is still hiding things from you, and you are still married to Jack.
Elvis bows his head, his soft lips now mere millimeters from yours, his hot breath mingling with the heat of your own. But he does not close the gap. He’s waiting, waiting for you to decide. He’s impatient, nearly shaking with anticipation.
You came here to end it, you did (didn’t I?), but he’s like the sun, pulling you into his orbit. Desperate, you find your voice, doing your best to be strong.
“Elvis, I am still married. You know as well as I do how complicated it is with Jack, and he’s not going to take kindly to this when he finds out. And he will. We both know he will. He’s your friend. You can’t have it both ways, and neither can I. But I can’t be near you without wanting you, so something’s gotta give. That’s why I have to go. That, and all the secrets, the lies…It’s tearing me apart inside,” you plead with him. And I know you’re keeping something from me, but those words don’t make it out of your mouth.
His brow furrows and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head. Then something significant shifts, that dark look clouding his eyes once more.
“Jack ain’t shit. Fuck him. And, baby, I’ll tear your marriage to shreds and throw it in the trash, just like that,” Elvis snarls, snapping his fingers in your face, his endless eyes burning into yours. His vehemence has you shaking, your eyes going big. “I don’t care what I have to do or who I have to pay off. I thought I told you, honey—I always get what I want, and I think I’ve made it quite fuckin’ clear who I want.”
Holy shit.
A shocked beat, your breath held in a pause before it quickens again. Elvis is choosing you over Jack. Elvis wants you to end your marriage for him (or more accurately, wants to end it for you). This means that he is much more serious about this, about you, than you thought. Your heart plummets into your stomach and warmth blossoms over your body. You are both elated and terrified by what he is asking of you. All words escape you.
“Still need a little more convincing, huh?” His lip curls into a smirk, sending a coil of desire into your belly. Pushing you up against the wall, he grinds his hips into you, your arms straining against their bonds. You know now that this is his way, his way of proving to you the truth of his words. A whimper escapes your lips, causing him to grin even more. He has you right where he wants you, which is infuriating and exhilarating.
Elvis gets close, his full lips so tantalizingly near that you can almost taste their pillowy sweetness, but he still does not kiss you, only tempts you as his breath blends with yours. As much as you want to, you do not submit, you do not close the gap, your stubbornness and lingering doubt dampening your near-consuming desire.
All your churning emotions of the past few days keep you silent. Confusion, fear, anger, shock, love—all of it only fuels your passion for him, a love so consuming it eats you alive. But you also don’t want him to have the satisfaction of you giving into him. He’s right: he does usually get what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you have to make it easy on him.
Elvis watches your reaction carefully as he yanks your dress up over your hips. Then he groans, a deep, carnal sound as he grinds into you once more, his arousal evident and the metal of his ornate belt biting against your pelvis. You bite your lip to keep from making the noises that threaten to escape you, but your breathing is starting to become even more labored. There is an element of calculated control in his flaming eyes, combined with power and need. He doesn’t let you look away.
Elvis grabs the back of one of your thighs, pulling it up to his hip, running his hand over your bare flesh from your knee up to your panties, his fingers dancing just under the elastic. You hold back the hiss that wants to escape you. God, you want to touch him, to claw at his bare chest, but the scarf holds you fast and you grip its strong silk for dear life.
When he lets go just long enough to pull the zipper of his fly, pulling out his cock, your eyes widen, then fall closed. You feel as he tugs your underwear to the side, his fingers swiping through your folds. You bite your lip at the feel of his fingers prodding at you so roughly. But with your churning emotions desperately trying to keep your desire at bay, you are not nearly wet enough to take him yet.
“Look at me,” he demands, and you do. You are powerless not to.
Reaching his hand up, he looks you right in the eye as he spits in it, then reaches down to cover his cock, lubricating it fully. You gulp. A shiver of anticipation races down your spine. Taking a long moment to gather more saliva, he spits in his hand again before snaking it between your thighs to smear your pussy with it, watching your reaction carefully. You can’t help but moan at the sensation of the warm slick.
True to his word, nothing stops him from taking what he wants as he brusquely lifts your legs around his waist and enters you with a quick, hard thrust and a deep grunt.
You gasp loudly at how Elvis fills you so completely, both with surprise and with pain of the pleasurable sort. You are so tight, too tight, and while your arousal pools, it has not yet coated your walls, making his saliva the only lubrication to ease the friction. You claw at the silk scarf, trying to push back against the wall in retreat, but he chases you, pausing for only a moment as you attempt to adjust to him. He starts rocking into you, but his thrusts are not gentle—they are powerful, claiming. You continue to hold back the noises that want to escape your mouth, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing your pleasure.
“Why ya gotta be so fuckin’ stubborn, baby? You really makin’ me take you this damn hard to remind ya just who ya belong to?” he growls seductively into your ear as he drives into you harder. Your head falls back onto the wall and your eyes flutter. This shouldn’t be so satisfying, but you can’t deny how it makes you feel, how he makes you feel. Your arousal pools around him at his words, at his audacity, and it gives you away as he slides more easily in and out of you. Then that damn lip of his dares to curl up again into a knowing smile.
His baritone rumbles in your ear as he fucks you more vigorously, each thrust punctuating his words, as if driving them deeply into your body and mind. “I’m not lettin’ you outta my sight after this little stunt of yours, honey, not for one damn minute. In fact,” he chuckles darkly, “you’re going on stage with me for the rest of my shows, starting tonight. Your debut performance.”
You can’t hold back your choked gasp at that.
“You’re all mine now.” Elvis’ hand comes up and wraps around your throat, just tight enough to let you know he means it. “Now, be a good girl and say it for me.”
Your brain fights against him—possession is not love! Sex is not love! it screams at you—and you don’t want to give him this, but you know the truth of it: you are his. You’ve been his for a while now. And you relish in it. You want so desperately for it to be more than that, but you are too weary of denying yourself of the obvious.
“I’m…y-yours,” you gasp out. He fucks it out of you.
The corner of his mouth briefly lifts in satisfaction before returning to his relentless railing of you and his ongoing, heated diatribe: “You’ll stay in my room, my bed, and we’ll fuck whenever we damn please, honey. I don’t care who fuckin’ knows. Let Jack try and come for you…see what happens,” he threatens, grunting as his thrusts become more erratic.
You don’t even recognize the moan that comes from you at that. The fact that he will take Jack head on for you sends an inexplicable rush through your system. The coil in your belly tightens rapidly now, but Elvis is too far ahead of you, too consumed with his lust and his need to claim you as his own.
“Tell me you’ll stay,” he says in your ear. It comes out more needy, breathless, pleading, than you think he intended, which tugs at your heart, telling you what you need to know, at least for now.
You have no choice, not anymore. Neither your heart nor Elvis’ will allow it.
“I’ll stay,” you whisper, finally conceding.
“There’s my girl,” he groans, then plunges in so deep and fast that the wind is knocked out of you. You both cry out as he pulses again and again, filling and coating you with his need, his teeth digging into your shoulder as he climaxes.
You both gasp for breath, him from his release, you from the shock of his words as they settle within you. After a moment of recovery, he unceremoniously pulls out of you, sets you gently back on the ground, and unties your hands. Your legs feel wobbly and your hands tingle with a burning sensation, rubbed a little raw at the wrists. Elvis kisses each wrist softly, making that unrelieved coil in your belly cinch even tighter as he wraps the scarf around your neck. You wince at the pins and needles in your arms as you shake them to regain circulation.
You wait to see what he has in store for you next, but he just looks a little jaded, uncharacteristically making no effort to alleviate your need. He turns and walks all the way back into the bathroom, and you follow silently.
You look at him questioningly in the mirror as he cleans off, that coil in your belly poised and ready, but unfed. He’s never left you unsatisfied before. But you also don’t want to push him right now. Things still feel too tenuous.
He finally acknowledges you in the mirror, looking over your mussed and flustered state and immediately gleaning the reason for your hovering. “Honey…I’ll deal with you later,” Elvis tuts in a reprimanding tone, his left eyebrow raising, his blues still chilly towards you.
He’s being petty, but you suppose you deserve that to an extent. You resist the urge to pout, instead choosing to wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing against the sweaty heat of his back. You want him to forgive you, want to be in his warmth, want him to love you as you love him. But for now, you’ll accept the relief of not having to leave him.
Let me take care of you…Let me be your everything.
The memory of his words sends warmth radiating through your chest, even if he just said it to get you to stay. Even if he didn’t really mean it.
“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. And you are.
Elvis doesn’t move for a moment, just letting you cling to him. Then he turns, bringing you close, and he finally kisses you, his pliant lips pressing hard and fierce and wanting against yours.
“Don’t ever try to leave me like that again, baby,” he says, pulling away, looking deeply into your eyes. He is trying, you think, to be as possessive and demanding as before, but the edge of his anger has been tempered, quelled, and has turned into something more imploring. Then, with that quintessentially Elvispuppy-dog look on his face, he blinks slowly and quietly adds, “I need you,” as though just realizing it himself.
And, with that, you realize for the first time that despite all your doubts, despite what he is hiding from you, despite every obstacle that wants to pile against you, the shitstorm that is coming is still going to hit hard, but it will hit you two together.
*
Taglist:
@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love
@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore
@jazmin2211 @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy @amiets2 @saintmagx
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@sassanoe @re3kin @thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23 @ab4eva
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#Pink Scarf#Pink Scarf Part 16#elvis#elvis presley#elvis presley x reader#if you’re looking for trouble#you came to the right place#elvis x reader#elvis 2022#elvis movie#austin butler elvis#elvis x y/n#elvis x you#austin!elvis x reader#elvis smut#austin!elvis smut#austin!elvis presley x reader#austin!elvis imagine#elvis imagine#elvis fic#elvis fanfic#elvis fanfiction#elvis presley imagine#elvis presley smut#elvis presley fic
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FAQ
Do not interact with this account if you're a minor.
I highly recommend not following me here, at @cyaerandom, because it's a personal account. If you like what I draw, please consider my art blog instead. I will reblog any scribbles I post here.
ART BLOG @cerberusmahou
Mute #riya reblog for art only and check what I'm into to curate your space.
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Art only tag
Scribbles tag (cw: suggestive content)
Ask me anything, or give me ideas to draw!
Mind you I don't specifically take requests, but I'm always in the lookout for inspiration, happy to read about your headcanons and overall talk about our mutual interests!
🌈M/F ATLA. A discord group for LGBT+ adults who enjoy or create straight ships content and want to meet people similar to them!
All joining members must be 20+ years old. Mlm/wlw is obviously allowed and welcomed, but not our focal theme.
Can I use your art as icon and for rp? Sure, I'll be honored.
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Which brush do you use for drawing? It's a custom, here's the settings. However, I recommend sketching on a hard brush and using this only for inking or doing a more refined sketch.
Any anatomy book you recommend? Figure drawing by Kan Muftic and Morpho collection by Michel Lauricella.
Could you share your art style inspiration? Here.
Any tips for dynamism? Besides checking on art tutorials (dynamism and gesture drawing), I'd say studying the principles of 2D animation, paying attention to real people's body language, and watching sakuga from great artists like Richard Williams, Milt Halt, Hiroyuki Imaishi, Yutaka Nakamura, etc. I tend to tag animation gifs I go across and like, feel free to use it as reference library, if it's helpful for you.
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We are mutuals and I appreciate you, but your blog isn't for me anymore. Please unfollow me, then. I'd never take it personally. You have to cater your social media to your own tastes and whatever makes you happy. We can interact in other spaces anytime.
I'd like to follow you, but my moral and political beliefs don't align with yours. Is that a problem? As long as you're an adult, feel free. I don't intend to live in an echo chamber and I aim to learn about other realities.
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intro ⋆ READ B4 INTERACTING ⌁
my name is ajax/reo (you can call me either of those names) my pronouns are he/xe i am a minor (i'm 4teen) and i used to be @spinnspidey, @radiospidey, @knifespidey, and @razorspidey (that was the more known one) but i got t worded (again…) to whoever got me t worded, block dnt report. thanks!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა yeah so heres my intro. i'm a little bit of a weirdo if i do say so myself and i'm heavily tumblr obsessed so yeah i'll be on here nd i'll probably post a lot ^^ i'll post whatever goes through my mind which might be bad so warning on that. i might show symptoms of mental illnesses and if i do then mb idk not really my problem… but heads up i WILL say shit that shows that im not doing great. please do not try to save me or smth. also im looking for friends so bmf i promise im nice.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT PROMOTE ANYTHING THAT I POST. I AM POSTING AS A WAY TO VENT.
more info + stats under the cut!!! (tw for talking about sh + ed. don't like, don't read.)
sh﹐tw . . .
⋆ i have been cvtting since 2022
⋆ i have hit styro
⋆ only styro on my thighs
⋆ i am not allowed to cvt anymore (unfortunately)
⋆ i have cvt my thighs, arms, stomach, and neck
⋆ most scars on thighs + arms
⋆ mostly cat scratches
⋆ all scars have healed (or are almost done in the process of healing)
⋆ my parents found out so i can't do it for now… (⇀‸↼‶)
ed﹐tw . . .
⋆ i have always hated my body
⋆ started trying to lose weight january 2023
⋆ started around december 2023 (probably before, like over the summer but idk…)
⋆ 160 cm (last time i measured myself at least..)
⋆ sw 57.6 kg (bmi 22.5)
⋆ hw 60 kg (bmi 23.4)
⋆ lw 49.8 kg (bmi 19.5)
⋆ cw 49.8 kg (bmi 19.5) [will update every morning]
⋆ gw 1 50 kg (bmi 19.5)
⋆ gw 2 45 kg (bmi 17.6)
⋆ gw 3 40 kg (bmi 15.6)
⋆ ugw <38 kg (bmi <14.8)
dni . . .
⋆ basic dni (idrc ngl, do what you want but don't report me thanks)
⋆ judgmental people
⋆ people who have mdni in their bio (i am a minor so??)
⋆ nsfw accounts (this means people who post/reblog nudes. if it's just text, it's fine)
⋆ overly sensitive people
⋆ people who aren't ok w dark topics/get uncomfortable by stuff like that (this is more for you than for me, i dont wanna make anyone upset)
⋆ people who get triggered by talking about sh, ⭐️ving, alcohol, etc… (yes i am aware that it's bad, no don't come to my dms with a savior complex telling me to get help. i'm trying to get help)
⋆ i block freely btw cuz ik a lot of ppl dont respect dni lists + theres people who are unavoidable at times…
byi . . .
⋆ if you interact with me, i might seem excited n stuff
⋆ i might sound like i'm flirting but i'm not (i have a partner and i love them)
⋆ i can make a lot of sex jokes
⋆ i am very immature
⋆ dnt try to "fix" me, i'll probably block you or ignore you
⋆ i'm a little unusual so yeah
⋆ dnt be scared to interact w me i luv talking to peopleヾ(≧∇≦)ゞ
⋆ i am not pro €d or $h i just post about it and my experience…
fandoms . . .
⋆ hypmic (hypnosis mic)
⋆ genshin impact
⋆ paralive (paradox live)
⋆ servamp
⋆ tougen anki
⋆ karneval
⋆ bsd (bungou stray dogs)
⋆ seraph of the end
⋆ litc (lost in the cloud)
⋆ kagerou daze
⋆ the case study of vanitas
⋆ pandora hearts
⋆ enstars (ensemble stars) (i am KIND OF a part of it because my ex filled me up on a lot of lore when we were together…)
⋆ pjsk (project sekai)
⋆ theres probably some others but i forgot…
interests . . .
⋆ vkei
⋆ scene
⋆ anything bloody
⋆ cannibalism (ooh edgy)
⋆ tortures
⋆ psychology
⋆ music (i listen to vkei, scene, metal, etc…)
⋆ vampires
⋆ fanfiction (mostly genshin but other stuff occassionally)
⋆ true crime (im not tcc)
⋆ rarepairs (mostly genshin)
⋆ bats
⋆ writing
⋆ books
⋆ etc…
⋆ btw if youre interested in any of these or are interested becoming friends PLEASEEE message me 🙏🙏😓 im looking for friends pleaseplwaseplease
tags . . .
⋆ i tag all my posts with #zombspidey
⋆ i tag my normal posts with #zombspideys normal posts, meaning they are unrelated to $h and/or €d related things
⋆ i don't have a specific tag for $h/€d/vent related things so beware. i usually put a warning on all my posts like that at the end of the post tho
⋆ i tag my moodboard with #zombspideys moodboards
⋆ i tag stuff about me/my life as #zombspidey diary
⋆ i tag my rants/more serious posts with #zombspidey rants
⋆ block any of the tags or my blog if you do not wish to see it!!!
other links . . .
⋆ fanfic/dead dove: do not eat blog
⋆ poem blog
⋆ carrd
remember!!! block DONT report this blog if you need to ^^ this blog is meant as a way to vent my feelings/talk about my feelings so please don't dm me about how its bad. i am aware.
#zombspidey#intro post#introduction#blog intro#pinned intro#introductory post#pinned post#tw ed but not sheeran#eating disoder trigger warning#tw eating issues#disordered eating mention#disordered eating cw#eating issues#slef harm#slef harn#tw s3lf harm#s3lf harn#s3lf mutilation#tw €d#€d#€d blog#€dblr#€d diary#$h tumblr#$elf h4rm#$hblr#$elf harm#$h tw
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Thought I’d jump onto this train for once… What an odd combo… either way I love it. Honestly, Star Trek TNG has always been a comfort show for me. I used to watch it every day after school and on weekends whenever it was on WGN.
Real honest moment here below the cut. Feel free to skip if not. [TDLR: Thank you to their creators. They mean so much to me.]
Star Trek TNG has always been there for me. As a kid growing up I would turn it on every day after school and on weekends in the afternoons when it would come on BBC America or WGN. I stopped needing it constantly on after my parents got divorced. Don’t get me wrong I’d still turn on an episode or two every so often but it wasn’t every day like it had been.
My senior year of college I found myself needing it again. First I turned it on for one of my classes. (I wrote so many papers on Data and the federation that semester.)
Then… I just didn’t turn it off until I moved out and discovered (You guessed it correctly) Ghost.
I would turn on daily marathons of TNG whenever I was in my apartment needing to escape the passive aggressive silence that filled it. I felt like Data again. Not understanding the humans around me and the emotional ‘cues’ that were being given to me. Any time I could have TNG on, I did. I felt that no matter how I approached the situation with my roommates I wouldn’t catch any hidden meanings in their tones. Only they wouldn’t take the time to explain or share exactly why they were upset. I remember having the apartment to myself at the beginning of the spring semester, just laying on the floor with it playing in the background and sobbing. (Between the living situation and losing my Grandma it was an odd combo of things)
Ghost came into my life around then. I didn’t fully look into it until later that summer after graduation. I found comfort in the bumbling anxious Cardinal. He seemed just as unsure about social interactions as I was. (It also helped that the music fucking slapped.)
I started obsessively listening to everything I could. My partner was so supportive, happy to see me have some sort of outlet while I worked my lonely accounting job. I loved the concept of them and when I managed to snag tickets to a ritual this past August I cried.
That ritual opened a fucking floodgate my guys, let me fucking tell you. I joked with my partner about starting to write Ghost fics, bringing up the line between regular fic and RPF, and when he traveled for a month I guess I had a bit too much time….
That month I wrote over 81,000 words. That month I posted around 3,000 words every other day. I created a massive fic that seemed to run and drag me along by the wrist.
I’m so grateful for everything Ghost has given me. New friends, a newfound passion for writing, and the spark I needed to start drawing again.
I guess what all of this was leading to was this: I’m so grateful to my boys for supporting me through these past few years. I’m grateful that when Tobias turned to his wife and pitched the idea of being a satanic pope on stage full time she said yes. I’m grateful that ST:TNG was available on Netflix and on cable for my entire childhood. I’m grateful that my mom introduced me to Star Trek and Star Wars early on.
I uh….yeah. Thank you to my boys. Thank you to the fandoms.
Imma just set this one down and walk away for a bit…. It’s time for bed.
#ghost bc fanart#the band ghost#ghost band fanart#papa emeritus iv#cardinal copia#data fanart#lt. commander data#i think we're gonna have to kill this guy#new comfort character unlocked#new comfort character vs old comfort character#papa emeritus 4#papa emeritus iv fanart#lt commander data fanart#done in photoshop#start trek tng#star trek next gen
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hi! im a new user on tumblr and i happened to stumble onto ur acc when looking for helluva boss fanfics!
i was wondering if you could do a striker x male!reader fanfic! as a trans man, its hard for me to find male!reader fics cause theyre a pretty hard find and a lot of the fandoms im in are kinda small!!
if u arent doing requests, thats totally fine! i can understand not doing them considering u mentioning ur break from the fandom ( btw i hope that things go well for u during ur break from the hh/hb fandom, it can be tiring )
if u are and u do do this request, thank you so much!! it means a lot to me. <3
have a good day!
Thank you! Before I take my break I'm going to get these request out of the way. But thank you! And of course I'll write Striker X Male Reader. I'll also definitely start posting mlm fics soon because I'm still getting into the comfort of writing mlm since I used to writing a lot of other fics. But I hope you enjoy this Striker X Male Reader!
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Striker X Male Reader: Hit & Run.
☕ Author's Note: Hello! My little imps, demonic sinners, and powerful overlords. Happy Pride Month! And welcome back to this story of Striker X Male Reader. I had fun writing this while blasting music. So I hope you all enjoy but also fun fact I'm bisexual, demisexual, & demi romantic. I realized I was bisexual in middle school because I had a crush on my friend Heather and I thought I just liked her because she was my friend but the universe was like nah you wanna kiss her. Lol I discovered I was demi romantic and demi sexual when I turned 19 and since then I've been feeling comfortable with who I am. My account will always be a safe place for the pride community. You are not alone, you are strong, you are loved, and my dms are always open.
☕Word Count: 2083
☕Fandom: Helluva Boss.
☕Story Contains: Blood/A beat up cowboy.
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You stirred in your sleep and opened your eyes. You noticed that your husband Striker was no longer in bed. But this was normal; Striker usually go up early in the morning or at midnight to get ready for a job. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you started dating the outlaw. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, you were still exhausted from work. But you were glad that today was your day off, you fell asleep again but woke up a couple of hours later and decided to start your day. You took a shower and got dressed. You walked into the living room and smiled at the wedding picture on the table. You remembered this day and how you meet Striker. The outlaw had run out onto the road and got hit by your car. You had stopped and panicked seeing that you hit someone. When you placed him in the car and offered to take him to the hospital. He refused to go and ask that you just patch him up, you were unsure of this but nodded. When you had taken Striker in and patched him. He really didn’t talk to you, he seemed more interested in getting patched up and leaving but with his condition. He couldn’t do that yet so he stayed with you for a few weeks. Striker was quite the asshole to you when he was under your roof. He would growl or snap at you when you tried to help him. Refused to eat your cooking because said it sucked. But deep down he loved your cooking and would sneak into the kitchen at night to eat leftovers. You worked as a nurse at a hospital so you knew how to take care of Striker. He slowly started to warm up to you and he would do this by teasing you. Striker was taller than you so he would call you a small fella and sometimes hold items above your head. He would also poke you sometimes or make jokes. Striker did help out around the house, sometimes he would cook and you loved his cooking. “ I guess you could say I’m the better cook. “ Striker chuckled. You rolled your eyes. After Striker was healed. It was time for him to say goodbye; which made you sad. You would hate to admit but you felt something for the outlaw. But you weren’t sure if he liked you or if he liked guys. “ Hey, Striker. “ You said walking up to him, as you watched him get on his horse.
“ Yea, darlin’? “ Striker said. Hearing him say that made you blush but you shook your head, it was too soon to admit your feelings. “ Have a safe trip. “ You said, smiling at him. Striker smirked that smirk you loved so much as his gold tooth glimmered in the sun. “ Thanks for taking good care of me. If I see ya again you better be ya hear me. “ Striker smacked Bombproof with his tail and rode off. You waved goodbye while blushing and smiling. You thought about Striker’s words and nodded, you head back inside. You haven’t seen Striker for a long while, but you did what he said and became a doctor. You had just finished working late and had pulled into your driveway. You got out of your car and yawned. Pulling out your keys. You unlocked the door and walked inside; you switched on the light and jumped seeing Striker sitting on your couch looking beat up and bleeding out; he saw you and smirked. “ Hey, there darlin’ it's been a while. “ Striker said and winced in pain. You quickly close the door and ran over to Striker and were careful with him. “ Striker what the fuck happened!? “ You said and ran to get your med kits. You came back and Striker started removing his clothes and staying in his boxers. You blushed and set the medkit down. You placed his bloody clothes into a bag and started to patch him up. “ I had this job, and this job didn’t go as I planned. I killed the targets but I got a little messed up during the fight. “ He said chuckling and wincing in pain. “ Sorry, and you didn’t get messed up a little you got messed up a lot. “ You said and slipped off your blood gloves. Striker lifted your chin with his finger. “ Yeah, but a cute doctor is patching me up~ “ Striker smirked. You quickly stood up and Striker’s reaction made you laugh. “ But I’m glad you did become a doctor and I wonder if you still make good food. “ Striker stared at you. You smiled. “ I’ll give you some things to clean yourself up with and I’ll make us dinner. Since you are here and I patched you up, then you owe me some catching up okay? “ You said. “ Sir yes sir. “ Striker said and chuckled.
You walked into your room and grabbed a washcloth and a towel for Striker. You found a pair of grey sweatpants and a black T-shirt that could fit him from when a friend was staying with you. You walked out and handed Striker the items. “ Thanks, pumpkin. “ Striker said. “ New nickname? “ You said with a chuckle. “ Oh, little thing I have a bunch of them let's see if you can unlock them~ “ Striker shot you and wink then walked into the bathroom. You stood there smiling and blushing. You walked into the kitchen and decided to make your favorite meal, hopefully, Striker will like it. After cooking you had finished. “ Something smells good and I know it's not just me. “ You turned around to see Striker standing there. His white hair was a mess from showering. You walked up, shit he did smell good. “ Y~Yeah I made (food name). “ You said. Striker grinned and claps his hands together. “ Then what are we waiting for let’s dig in. “ Striker sat down as you made him a plate or bowl of food. You sat down to eat with Striker. The two of you catching up. Striker was proud that you had become a doctor. “ Here darlin’ let me clean those for you. “ Striker said trying to grab your dish. “No, you need to rest Striker. “ You said frowning. Striker chuckled and pulled you close with his tail so that you pressed up against him. “ I’ve been an assassin for years. I know what my body can handle darlin’ and I’m sure you've been on your feet all day. “ Striker stared at you with a serious look. “ You go unwind, my mama taught me how to treat a host the right way. “ Striker smirked and let you go.
You were standing there flustered but walked off. You saw that Striker had gotten the blood stains out of your couch. “ Oh. wow. “ You walked into your room and started to undress so you could shower. You weren’t sure if Striker was flirting or teasing you but those feelings you had for him a while back were returning. But what if he leaves again? You frowned and turned on the shower and washed yourself up. You let the water hit your body and you thought about Striker. You weren’t sure if you would ever tell him. You sighed and turned off the water, you stepped out dried off, and changed into your pajamas. You opened the door and jumped. You saw Striker standing there holding a pack of popcorn and a tub of ice cream. “ I was still hungry and saw you had snacks, wanna watch a movie? “ You smiled and nodded. “ I would love to. “ Striker offered his hand to you. You grabbed his hand and later that night you and Striker were watching an old western movie had had suggested both of you had finished off the ice cream and popcorn. You saw that Striker had fallen asleep at the end of the movie. You stood up carefully sliding him down on the couch. You walked off and returned with a pillow and a black blanket. You carefully slipped the pillow under his head and covered him with it, you watched him stir in his sleep. You smiled and walked off.
You got yourself ready for bed since tomorrow was your day off but you still valued your rest. You got into bed and sat there thinking of Striker and you fell asleep. You planned for a restful sleep but you woke up screaming and crying. But something held, you looked up to see Striker looking at you with a worried look. “ (Y/N) are you okay? I heard ya screaming and crying. Did you have a nightmare darlin? Here scoot over I’mma slide in. “ Striker said. You scoot over and Striker got in your bed and pulled you close and rubs your hand. “ You can tell me what happened if you want. “ He said looking at you with a smile and a caring look. You sighed, you might as well tell him and if he rejects you then at least the nightmare wasn’t wrong. “ I had had feelings for you, I love you Striker, but I had a nightmare that I told you how I felt and you just laughed you kept laughing telling me that you don’t love me. “ Tears threatened to spill again. “ Y~You love me? “ Striker said. You look up to see Striker blushing and had a large grin. “ D~ No, (Y/N) I feel the same way I about you when we first met and you patched me up and you let me stick around I developed feelings for you, I just didn’t know how to tell you. I couldn’t get you out of my head ever since I left. It’s one of the reasons I came back. “ Striker chuckled and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall because you were happy that he felt the same way. “ Strik- “ But you were cut off as Striker kissed you and you kissed him back. The two of you locked in a passionate kiss both of your tails wrapping together and getting tangled. Striker promised to stay in the bed with you and the two of you talked all night.
Striker told you that if you agreed to be his boyfriend then you would have to deal with the outlaw lifestyle the things that came with being an assassin even a couple of rules. You loved Striker so you agreed to be his boyfriend and follow his rules which were no calling him while he is working, no posting pictures of him on your social media, don’t let others know about your relationship with him, and be careful who you trust. Striker had these rules to protect himself and espically you. So you agreed to these rules. Striker held you close and kissed your head. “ I love you bo. “ Striker said as he kept his tail around you. After that night you and Striker continued your relationship. You supported him and he supported you. Of course, now he was no more careful when taking on jobs but even when he got a bit messed up, you were always there to patch him back. Eventually, Striker proposed to you when he made you a fancy homemade dinner. The two of you had a small private wedding but you didn’t care about some grand wedding you had Striker and that’s what made you happy. Striker always made you laugh and smile. He would play songs on guitar for you, even written you a few songs, and maybe sometimes he took you on trips. He always brought you a gift back from his jobs, Striker loved you and he’ll always love you.
-Back In the Present -
You felt someone kiss your neck. “ Striker~ “ You blushed as the cowboy pulled you close while placing his hand on your chest. “ I see my beautiful bo is remembered our wedding day. “ He said also staring at the picture with you. “ And the day we met. “ You said while setting the picture down you turn around and kissed Striker. He held you close and kissed back. “ I still remeber the nervous mess you were when we met. But you were my nervous mess. I’m glad you hit me with your car. “ He said laughing and shaking his head. “ How many times will I have to say sorry, but yes I’m glad I hit you with my car too. “ Striker dipped and kissed you.
#helluva boss#helluva blitzo#striker x reader#mlm love#mlm post#striker x male reader#helluva x reader#helluva striker#striker helluva boss#striker#helluva boss striker#helluva moxxie#helluva millie#helluva loona#helluva stolas#helluva andrealphus#helluva fizzarolli#helluva asmodeus#fandoms#fan fiction#fanfic#writerscorner#writeblr#my writing#request ☕📖
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I’m relatively new to the fandom and have really enjoyed a lot of your posts… I have a question that I couldn’t quickly find an answer to in searching through your tags…
What’s the deal with streaming? Like, I listen to BTS. I enjoy them a lot, I listen to a pretty even mix of all their albums though I probably like MOTS:7 era the best). Some days I listen to them like all day lol (if I’m cleaning the house or something) and I listen to them a lot in the car or while working. I’ve enjoyed some solo releases more than others so I naturally streamed those more. but like the more I start following accounts on here and on army twt the more confused I get about the intense pressure to stream constantly? I’ve heard that people play certain songs (or albums I guess?) on repeat on mute and/or have dedicated streaming devices they keep going all the time.
Not to be negative or rude at all but like…what? Maybe because I’m new to KPop and have never followed it until BTS but that just sounds so weird and… idk the word, maybe disingenuous? Again I do not mean this as an attack I am just genuinely confused. Wouldn’t BTS themselves want us only to listen if we were actually enjoying it and not out of some competitive attempt to get better ratings? It feels so odd to me, like that is not how I would behave with any other artist that I love. I would only ever listen to them out of a genuine desire to hear their music. But there seems to be so much weird shaming out there for when/if songs are not streamed heavily enough? And for any other artist I would just write that off as a difference in taste among the fandom, but here it’s treated like a personal wrong against the artist…?
But as I say that I’m sure there’s more to it… I have definitely seen people talking about payola or chart manipulation so idk. If I should google this instead, just tell me to, I just have already tried and didn’t find that much clarity, just a bunch of people on quora and Reddit talking about certain songs not getting streamed enough.
Anyways this is super long, sorry if it annoys you. Just thought you seemed knowledgeable and levelheaded enough to ask? Love your posts. All the best.
*
Ask 2:
Okay wait I’m the anon that just asked about streaming and I went and re-read your post about “inorganic success” — I had read it before but somehow I didn’t put together that the 24-7 streaming is an attempt to combat payola or like go up against it I guess. Okay. That makes more sense. I still feel like there’s a weird focus on charting but I guess if it’s about getting more concert venues and more radio play it makes sense.
You can ignore my last ask then I’m sorry if I’m being dense or something lol.
***
You haven’t at all asked a stupid question. Your confusion is easily explained by you being new to k-pop, and everyone new to this madhouse asks this question eventually. I’ve talked about this before, but can’t find the post for the life of me so I’ll briefly go over it again.
First, you need to understand what k-pop is. K-pop is a system that gamifies music consumption. Competition is something you’ll see in the music industry regardless. Western stans such as Arianators, Barbz, and the Beyhive have organized around streaming goals and efforts for at least 10 years now. But there’s no other music industry that explicitly emphasizes competition among groups and fans, the way the k-pop industry does.
Competition is baked into its DNA:
From the idol training system under agencies with supposed specialities that are treated like warring houses a la Game of Thrones (a mentality created by the Big 3),
to the music shows where fans are encouraged to vote daily and weekly for the best artists and where wins are tied to streaming numbers,
to the highly publicized year-end award show criteria that outline key metrics for wins in streams, sales, and fan votes.
Basically, the k-pop industry creates a clear hierarchy of talent and acclaim for artists in their system, directly stokes fan participation in buying into that hierarchy, and the numbers are the easiest litmus test/short cut to settle the question of who is at the top.
And all of this is served with a cocktail of parasocial delusion and entitlement that has (more easily manipulated) fans thinking their perceived investment into their faves, earns them the right to micromanage their fave idols’ careers. All of this benefits the labels and industry because they’d rather have you more engaged (even if toxically), than not.
Everybody here buys into this system despite what they’ll tell you, some just manage to keep their wits and perspective to prevent getting sucked in, while others fall headfirst into it.
And so, like I said in my ‘inorganic success’ post you referenced, the focus on streaming is part of fans really just playing the game. Excess is something you’ll see on the charts in any case, whether in k-pop or in the West.
The difference with BTS and ARMYs however, is in the why of how the fandom streams. Essentially, you’re more likely to find people just as passionate about the music itself as they are about giving that music its due in hard numbers and consequently, recognition. You’re more likely to find fans like this in the ARMY fandom, than any other, in my opinion. Some people forget that the og ARMYs were k-pop fans first. They were fans who intimately understood how this system worked, they understood why the Big3 maintained dominance in k-pop for literal decades, and they saw the worth in the music BTS made, loved it enough to invest time into the playing the game better than anyone else at the time - pushing BTS from nugu status to where they are now, competing well outside the realm of the k-pop system but in a space that remains complex and highly competitive.
Another aspect that differentiates how ARMYs stream vs other k-pop fandoms, is that due to the sheer size of the fandom in absolute numbers, the average ARMY typically streams less than a typical k-pop stan. Basically, in other fandoms the typical stan has to stream more per person to have even a fraction of the gains seen in the ARMY fandom. ARMYs also aren’t doing anything other fandoms aren’t doing, it’s just that so far, they’re more efficient at it and don’t have to worry too much because BTS makes music that keeps attracting more fans, adding to the size of the fandom. They’ve also generally stayed away from more illegal methods given the intense scrutiny and animosity the fandom has faced for being part of the reason BTS upended the ordained hierarchy in this space. It sounds silly but it’s true.
But that’s only one side of the story. The other side is that in the fandom, everybody here really just does what they want. And many people genuinely enjoy listening to BTS that much and that intensely. Going by personal experience in what I observed before I became ARMY, I noticed that many ARMYs are Type A and organized - people who like and study data. The first time in my life that I saw someone create a spreadsheet for fan theories on a k-pop MV, was when an ARMY made one for I NEED U MV. I’m not sure what it is about BTS, but from the beginning they’ve attracted the sort of fans who genuinely enjoy listening to music often, people who enjoy creating and playing around with playlists, and people who track and measure applicable data. So your assumption that the people who stream like this are people who don’t actually enjoy the music, is wrong. In my opinion. For a lot of ARMYs, streaming and appreciating the music isn’t mutually exclusive.
Personally, I listen to music a lot. And I’ve always been that way, so when I became ARMY, I just sort of naturally fit into that culture. The sort of music BTS makes is a joy to listen to, I play their stuff literally everyday and it feels like the most normal thing in the world for me to sleep to Serendipity sometimes (in my sleep playlist which includes brown noise and rain sounds), or to do laundry to Let Me Know playing, or to drive to UGH and Set Me Free Pt 2 playing. I have multiple accounts because I listen to all kinds of music all the time, and it’s just convenient for me to have things set up such that I can flip on a playlist in every situation I’d want one on.
But like I said, the reality is that everyone in this fandom does what they want. It’s true there are certain people in the fandom who obsess over streaming, these are typically chartmys and akgaes, but most other people stream however they like. Fandom in general is a pressure cooker environment so I don’t blame you for noticing that pressure, but at the end of the day you really should just do what makes the most sense to you.
ARMYs generally recognize the reality of the space they are in, they recognize what it means for BTS, and most simply tweak their normal listening habits to maximize the gain and support to BTS. Plus sometimes it’s fun to play into fandom’s initiatives as a way to connect with other fans (such as in streaming parties).
I ended up rambling but let me know if this answered your question.
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