#reach out to other creators in your community | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingwithcolor · 2 months

Text

Sri Lankan Fairies and Senegalese Goddesses: Mixing Mythology as a Mixed Creator

[Note: this archive ask was submitted before the Masterpost rules took effect in 2023. The ask has been abridged for clarity.]

@reydjarinkenobi asked:

Hi, I’m half Sri Lankan/half white Australian, second gen immigrant though my mum moved when she was a kid. My main character for my story is a mixed demigod/fae. [...] Her bio mum is essentially a Scottish/Sri Lankan fairy and her other bio mum (goddess) is a goddess of my own creation, Nettamaar, who’s name is derived from [...] Wolof words [...]. The community of mages that she presided over is from the South Eastern region of Senegal [...] In the beginning years of European imperialism, the goddess basically protected them through magic and by blessing a set of triplets effectively cutting them off from the outside world for a few centuries [...] I was unable to find a goddess that fit the story I wanted to tell [...] and also couldn’t find much information on the internet for local gods, which is why I have created my own. I know that the gods in Hinduism do sort of fit into [the story] but my Sri Lankan side is Christian and I don’t feel comfortable representing the Hindu gods in the way that I will be this goddess [...]. I wanted to know if any aspect of the community’s history is problematic as well as if I should continue looking further to try and find an African deity that matched my narrative needs? I was also worried that having a mixed main character who’s specifically half black would present problems as I can’t truly understand the black experience. I plan on getting mixed and black sensitivity readers once I finish my drafts [...] I do take jabs at white supremacy and imperialism and I I am planning to reflect my feelings of growing up not immersed in your own culture and feeling overwhelmed with what you don’t know when you get older [...]. I’m sorry for the long ask but I don’t really have anyone to talk to about writing and I’m quite worried about my story coming across as insensitive or problematic because of cultural history that I am not educated enough in.

Reconciliation Requires Research

First off: how close is this world’s history to our own, omitting the magic? If you’re aiming for it to be essentially parallel, I would keep in mind that Senegal was affected by the spread of Islam before the Europeans arrived, and most people there are Muslim, albeit with Wolof and other influences.

About your Scottish/Sri Lankan fairy character: I’ll point you to this previous post on Magical humanoid worldbuilding, Desi fairies as well as this previous post on Characterization for South Asian-coded characters for some of our commentary on South Asian ‘fae’. Since she is also Scottish, the concept can tie back to the Celtic ideas of the fae.

However, reconciliation of both sides of her background can be tricky. Do you plan on including specific Sri Lankan mythos into her heritage? I would tread carefully with it, if you plan to do so. Not every polytheistic culture will have similar analogues that you can pull from.

To put it plainly, if you’re worried about not knowing enough of the cultural histories, seek out people who have those backgrounds and talk to them about it. Do your research thoroughly: find resources that come from those cultures and read carefully about the mythos that you plan to incorporate. Look for specificity when you reach out to sensitivity readers and try to find sources that go beyond a surface-level analysis of the cultures you’re looking to portray.

~ Abhaya

I see you are drawing on Gaelic lore for your storytelling. Abhaya has given you good links to discussions we’ve had at WWC and the potential blindspots in assuming, relative to monotheistic religions like Christianity, that all polytheistic and pluralistic lore is similar to Gaelic folklore. Fae are one kind of folklore. There are many others. Consider:

Is it compatible? Are Fae compatible with the Senegalese folklore you are utilizing?

Is it specific? What ethnic/religious groups in Senegal are you drawing from?

Is it suitable? Are there more appropriate cultures for the type of lore you wish to create?

Remember, Senegalese is a national designation, not an ethnic one, and certainly not a designation that will inform you with respect to religious traditions. But more importantly:

...Research Requires Reconciliation

My question is why choose Senegal when your own heritage offers so much room for exploration? This isn’t to say I believe a half Sri-Lankan person shouldn’t utilize Senegalese folklore in their coding or vice-versa, but, to put it bluntly, you don’t seem very comfortable with your heritage. Religions can change, but not everything cultural changes when this happens. I think your relationship with your mother’s side’s culture offers valuable insight to how to tackle the above, and I’ll explain why.

I myself am biracial and bicultural, and I had to know a lot about my own background before I was confident using other cultures in my writing. I had to understand my own identity—what elements from my background I wished to prioritize and what I wished to jettison. Only then was I able to think about how my work would resonate with a person from the relevant background, what to be mindful of, and where my blindspots would interfere.

I echo Abhaya’s recommendation for much, much more research, but also include my own personal recommendation for greater self-exploration. I strongly believe the better one knows oneself, the better they can create. It is presumptuous for me to assume, but your ask’s phrasing, the outlined plot and its themes all convey a lack of confidence in your mixed identity that may interfere with confidence when researching and world-building. I’m not saying give up on this story, but if anxiety on respectful representation is a large barrier for you at the moment, this story may be a good candidate for a personal project to keep to yourself until you feel more ready.

(See similar asker concerns here: Running Commentary: What is “ok to do” in Mixed-Culture Supernatural Fiction, here: Representing Biracial Black South American Experiences and here: Am I fetishizing my Japanese character?)

- Marika.

Start More Freely with Easy Mode

Question: Why not make a complete high-fantasy universe, with no need of establishing clear real-world parallels in the text? It gives you plenty of leg room to incorporate pluralistic, multicultural mythos + folklore into the same story without excessive sweating about historically accurate worldbuilding.

It's not a *foolproof* method; even subtly coded multicultural fantasy societies like Avatar or the Grishaverse exhibit certain harmful tropes. I also don't know if you are aiming for low vs high fantasy, or the degree of your reliance on real world culture / religion / identity cues.

But don't you think it's far easier for this fantasy project to not have the additional burden of historical accuracy in the worldbuilding? Not only because I agree with Mod Marika that perhaps you seem hesitant about the identity aspect, but because your WIP idea can include themes of othering and cultural belonging (and yes, even jabs at supremacist institutions) in an original fantasy universe too. I don't think I would mind if I saw a couple of cultural markers of a Mughal Era India-inspired society without getting a full rundown of their agricultural practices, social conventions and tax systems, lol.

Mod Abhaya has provided a few good resources about what *not* to do when drawing heavily from cultural coding. With that at hand, I don't think your project should be a problem if you simply make it an alternate universe like Etheria (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power), Inys (The Priory of the Orange Tree) or Earthsea (the Earthsea series, Ursula K. Le Guin). Mind you, we can trace the analogues to each universe, but there is a lot of freedom to maneuver as you wish when incorporating identities in original fantasy. And of course, multiple sensitivity readers are a must! Wishing you the best for the project.

- Mod Mimi

#asks #multiracial #multicultural #south asian #sri lankan #senegalese #west african #identity #representation #worldbuilding #fantasy #mythology #folklore #fairies #deities #adoption #identity issues #mixed experiences #coding

553 notes · View notes

budgebuttons · 5 months

Text

There's a lot of reasonably frustrated but ultimately misdirected psa-style posting about how viewers NEED to start reblogging things rather than just liking them because that is the primary mode of post circulation on this site. The modern manifestation of this sentiment seems to miss the fact that, if you've been here for ~15 years, were here prior to, during, and after the exodus to the bird app, you already know that likes have always been more common than reblogs, that many people simply don't want to put your art on their blog, and that guilting end-users into using a microblogging site A Specific Way absolutely does not work. If it did, the trend would have shifted a decade ago. Because this conversation really is that old. Regardless, the modern discourse of how difficult it is to be Seen specifically on Tumblr isn't productive because I think it ultimately misses the reason being an artist online feels so Bad, now.

The social media era has funneled Looking At Stuff on the Internet into an economy of engagement that encourages end-users to treat everything we/they see as quick, cheap, and disposable. This is just another fun and flirty way that capitalism devalues art. It's nothing new. Trying to force masses of users to behave in a way that is healthier for the circulation of art isn't going to do anything to solve the discontent we all feel when we hurl something into the void and it is ultimately ignored. I swear up and down: A higher notes number won't feel better, either. Popularity is just as demoralizing as radio silence, but it manifests differently. Instead of 4 likes and maybe 1 reblog from Old Faithful Mutual, you get a horde of people who treat you like a content machine. You keep hoping for an impossibly Bigger Number. The notifs on the first Big Number Post haven't even settled, and people are already asking when the follow-up is coming. You get anons, but most of them are trying to passively convince you to give them More Content.

It's really, really hard to make people care about art. If there was a silver bullet for making the average person appreciate the enormity of human effort behind every beautiful thing they encounter, we would have found it centuries ago.

The best thing creatives can do for their lives online is to be friendly, or at least kind, with other creators. "Big" artists don't form in-groups because they're snobs. They find each other because they casually showed each other support, and their mutual appreciation for that Thing that wound them up in the same tag becomes a foundation for connection, and in many cases, the ever-illusive Bigger Audience as they introduce themselves to each others' circles. We get more eyes on our work by building community with each other.

Where does that leave people who are just here to look at things, not post them? I think the answer is almost identical: COMMENT!! Please, comment! The first step to engaging with art on a more meaningful level is to point out something you particularly enjoy about a given work. It can go in the replies, it can go in the tags, doesn't matter!! If you notice some symbolism or make some connection, there is all likelihood that OP put it there because they desperately wanted somebody to notice it. Let them know why you like it!

Reaching for the nebulous, impossible goal of better post circulation isn't going to make being a creator online in 2023 suck less. Meaningfully connecting with each other can, will, and does. You can make someone's day just by passingly letting them know that their effort is worth more than a number.

#budgetalks #I got to thinking about this because of fanfic actually #the proportion of comments to kudos ESPECIALLY on popular fics bums me out #especially when you open the comments and half of them are people asking for more

958 notes · View notes

fandomtrumpshate · 2 months

Text

Totals Time!

It's been a year of records and record-breaking. Of reaching new fandom spaces and building new community ties. It's been wild. And absolutely fantastic.

When we closed the auction signup window we had 981 offers —nearly 150 more than we'd ever had before. When we re-opened it for 4 more hours, hoping to find another 19 folks (because we wondered what an auction with 1000 offers would look like) you all came through in spades, boosting the auction everywhere and bringing back 100 new offers in 15 new fandoms, bringing us to 1081 offers this year - a 33% increase over our previous record.

And you all weren't done breaking records. Shattering them.

This is the first year that any of our supported nonprofit orgs has received a 5-digit sum. And? TWO of them did.

So. Are you ready to see what our community has done? Are you ready for the numbers?

This year

thanks to all of you

FTH raised…

$67,931.28

The breakdown of donations to orgs looks like this -

This brings our eight-year total to

$307,439.14

Huge thanks to our 797 creators offering 1081 auctions in more than 400 different fandoms and subfandoms, and to everyone who bid! And to our 17 fan crafters who brought in $4,127 of that total —60% more than our previous crafting record!

So, what's next?

Contact deadlines:

Creators, be sure you contact your bidders by April 1, and bidders, on your end please respond to their communication by April 15!

Bidders need to provide their creator with a workable prompt by June 30 (unless you've worked out a different timeline together) to ensure they have plenty of time to finish their fanwork.

Once the fanwork is posted, let us know via our form (can you believe FOURTEEN creators have already finished??) and if you’re posting it on AO3 be sure to add it to the Fandom Trumps Hate 2024 collection. If you’re writing a fic for FTH and need help from our Regiment of Fan Laborers, email us! As always, the deadline for completed fanworks is December 31.

We hope that for at least some people, your involvement in FTH will lead to continued action throughout the year. Sign up for our organizations’ email lists, check out their volunteer opportunities, and help boost their signals on social media!

And if you’d like to run your own fanworks auction for a good cause, we can help get you started!

We have a packet of organizational materials we’ve been sharing with other auction organizers since 2017; we’re planning to spend the month of April overhauling and updating these materials to incorporate many of the improvements we’ve implemented since then. If you’re thinking about organizing an auction or fanworks exchange in your fandom to raise money for a good cause, we would love to share those materials with you. Contact us at fandomtrumpshate at gmail.com and we can send you our auction playbook, as well as answer any questions you have about our process.

Your mods (@porcupine-girl, @captainbunnicula, @tiltedsyllogism, @anyawen, @renjunbabygirl, @trickybonmot, and @a-still-small-vox) are going to be going into post-auction hibernation mode (or, for most of us, post-auction deal-with-all-this-other-stuff mode) for a little while. So if you email us, don’t panic if we don’t get back to you immediately! We will start actively monitoring the inbox again by April 15 at the latest.

#fth 2024 #fanworks auction #donation totals

456 notes · View notes

tikkunolamresistance · 17 days

Text

PALESTINE aid requests and how YOU can help:

We get a lot of asks with people reaching out, confused and stuck on how they can aid Palestinians in need right now— specifically direct aid, including towards GoFundMes. We hope this post can be informative!

What you can do:

— Reblog, repost, retweet and share all aid requests that you see. Interacting is important to keep posts circulating, so like and even leave a comment.

— As little as $5 helps out, so if you’re able to, don’t feel like you’re not doing enough. As an example, if 100 people donated $5 to a GoFundMe, that’s already $500!

— Are you a creator? If you’re able to do charity streams on Twitch, host art commissions, if you’re an artist you could get permission to busk in your city centre and collect donations.

— We understand that finances are not easy right now, we’re all trying to get by with brutal bills and taxes, but if there’s absolutely any way you can economise— try incorporating it into your lifestyle. Have some old clothes you don’t need? Sell them online and send the funds to Palestinians in need.

— Suggest sponsoring a GoFundMe and fundraising with your community, school, workplace to generate funds.

— Reblog/comment any ideas or fundraising tips that have worked for you!

From Us:

Tikkun Olam Resistance

On our Instagram we’ve been posting GoFundMe’s and aid requests on our stories every day, and will be beginning weekly posts highlighting aid requests that need urgent boosting. We also have a pinned highlights on our account where you can access direct links to fundraisers. You can access that here.

On our Tumblr, you can search the “how to help” tag on our account to find a multitude of GoFundMes and aid requests to boost and support.

On X (Twitter) we’re retweeting every aid request that we come across, join us in doing the same! Filling peoples timelines and your you pages with Gaza and Palestine is a necessity now.

We’re considering other ways to raise funds, so keep an eye on our accounts for updates! We always look for recommendations from you guys.

#palestine #how to help #gofundmes #aid for palestine #aid for gaza #aid requests #jews for palestine #stand with palestine #jumblr #jewblr #how to help palestinians #how to help gazans #community outreach #eurovision

376 notes · View notes

deeranon · 2 months

Text

Troubling Travels | deer! Creator reader

Note: I’m kinda bad at writing fight scenes. Or…are there no fight scenes at all? :)

For @idkfitememate Hope you like it :D

╔⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤╗

Cyno cursed like his life depended on it. Tighnari was going to kill him if he ever found out about this. That was, if he made it out alive, first.

It had started out like any other day. You were happily gathering leaves and sticks for your secret little hoard(that wasn’t very secret, Tighnari knew about everything) of weapons (that were not actually weapons) to be used on Dottore if he ever thought of stepping foot anywhere near Collei or Tighnari or any Sumeru character ever. Minus the sages, they were also going to be victims of your mighty stick-hoard if you ever saw them. (Yes, you were peaceful but some things could not be forgiven.)

Tighnari had given you the nickname “ورقة الشجر الصغيرة”, little leaf, a few weeks after you had persistently stuck around even after you had healed from the treasure hoarder attack. And it stuck surprisingly well. Now, as of today, you were unofficially-but officially in the hearts of all Gandharva Ville residents—“منظم الأوراق الرسمي وجامع الأوراق الرسمي”, the official leaf organizer and collector. As a sort of celebration for your “promotion” Tighnari had asked Cyno to come visit during your “first ever official leaf collecting mission” in a letter he had sent a few weeks back. Indeed, Tighnari had planned to promote you for some time now. But it was hard keeping you distracted while they secretly set up a surprise party. But they managed to succeed in the end.

The entire village was decorated with various flower garlands(all given the green light by Tighnari) and tables were filled to the brim with tasty food for both humans and deer. People chatted animatedly with one another as they ate and danced. You were content to stand on the sidelines with Collei, eating a delicious salad while the forest rangers weaved you and their friends flower crowns. Seeing others happy made you happy.

The promotion party went well into the evening, with multiple excursions led by you to gather more fruit from the forest.(Tighnari was so proud that you remembered which fruits he told you were safe to eat and which were not) And when Cyno arrived with his ever neutral looking beautiful face, you were sure you were about to faint from happiness.

You had pranced up to him with a specially made flower bracelet just for him. Okay-YOU didn’t make it, Collei weaved it for you because trying to make a flower bracelet with hooves is hard. Sometimes, you missed your hands. But this form had its perks. Like the headpats you got and the wonderfully therapeutic back rubs when Tighnari brushed your fur for you. But you certainly deserved points for somehow communicating to your dear friend Collei that you wanted to make a bracelet for someone. The purple flowers probably helped.

Cyno looked down at your happy doe-face, or as happy as a deer could look with a deer-face. You were preening so much Cyno swore he saw sparkles emanating from you. You held the flower bracelet on the top of your fluffy head between the place where your antlers were starting to grow in. It was made of purple dahila’s and anemones, he noted before picking the bracelet up and sliding it onto his wrist.

“Thank you, little one. I promise to keep it safe.” Cyno said, slowly reaching out a cautious hand. Like Tighnari had taught him to do with stray cats and dogs. Sure, you were a deer, but it still counted, right?

In reply, you let out a giddy bleat and shoved your head underneath his calloused hand with vigor. Cyno felt his lips twitch into a smile. This wasn’t your first time meeting Cyno, but he was always so busy enforcing the law as General Mahamatra that he rarely had time to visit. So time spent with the general was special. He was happy to know you were doing well. Tighnari wrote about you in his letters frequently.

You nuzzled into his touch for a moment longer before backing away and prancing off into the festivities, stopping to look back at him with an expectant look.

Come join me!

Cyno paused before following after you. He wasn’t one for large parties but you looked so happy that he couldn’t decline. Besides, Tighnari and Collei were chilling out somewhere, so he could always go find them after hanging out with you in the core of the festivities. Maybe then he could pick up on the Genius Invocation TCG match he was having with Tighnari and Collei last time he was here. Oh, and maybe he could teach you how to play? Wouldn’t that be something.

It was nightfall now. Everyone was tuckered out from the party, fast asleep in their beds. Well, all except for two people and a deer.

“You don’t have to see me off. You should go get some rest for tomorrow.” Cyno said, adjusting the strap that held his canteen to his belt. Both you and Tighnari sighed at this.

“It’s not like we’re forcing ourselves to see you off. We want to do this. And there’s nothing you can do to change our minds.” Tighnari huffed as he crossed his arms.

You stomped your hoof in agreement. You chose to see Cyno off in the middle of the night, even though you knew you had things to clean up tomorrow. You knew how rarely you had one on one Cyno bonding time, and Cyno was one of your favorite characters in Sumeru. His bravery and strength in the heat of battle was something you saw as admirable.

Besides, you never knew when you would see Cyno next, or if he would be okay on a mission. His job was dangerous, and sometimes that made you worry. If only you could go with him…

Wait a second.

You COULD go with Cyno!

While you were connecting the dots in your head, Cyno had gotten fully ready to head off. He gave Tighnari a nod before turning his attention to you, who stood at the fox-eared male’s side with the same happy expression you had on that evening. Cyno felt his heart squeeze at the sight. He would, admittedly, miss you while he was gone. This next mission was going to be a long one.

So, he kneeled down and gave you a gentle pat on the head. You let out a bleat and shoved your head under his chin(making him bite his tongue on accident) in a makeshift hug. Now would have been a nice time to have hands. But you were never one to complain much. Cyno gave a small smile and rubbed your back before starting to pull away. It was time for him to leave.

With a final delightful scratch behind your large fluffy deer ears, Cyno stood and started to walk away.

Only, he wasn’t alone.

You followed after him with a happy pep in your trot.

Cyno paused. Tighnari tried not to laugh. You shimmered like you had never shimmered before.

Cyno sighed and shook his head before pointing to the ground and stating “stay.” in his best commanding voice. Internally, Cyno knew it was futile attempting to order a deer around, when it obviously wasn’t going to understand him. You stared at him innocently. Cyno took it as a sign to start walking again. Only for you to follow(again).

This repeated multiple times. (Tighnari almost burst a lung from laughter, exhaustion was clearly getting to the usually calm and collected fox ranger)

“I think they want to go with you, Cyno.” Tighnari finally said. Cyno stared at Tighnari.

“Yes. I don’t think I noticed.” He huffed. You let out another call and ran circles around Cyno’s legs with excitement, and Cyno felt his heart soften. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to come with him, it was just that the desert was an incredibly dangerous place. Especially since you had no natural defenses. Not to mention your fur. You would bake like an egg on the sidewalk in the middle of a heatstroke in a matter of minutes. Cyno knew this, because Tighnari had the exact same problem. And he didn’t want to see you suffer.

Yet you seemed adamant about staying with him. Both could see that. Cyno didn’t know what to do. Should he find a way to keep you with Tighnari? Or let you follow him into the lonely desert?

Tighnari took Cyno’s silence as his cue to become the voice of reason. “I am not one for old tales, but it’s been said for hundreds of years that animals have an innate sense of danger. A sixth sense, even. Or sometimes called premonition. Whatever you want to call it, having a companion that can sense danger early on could be an invaluable asset to your missions, Cyno.” Cyno didn’t seem fully convinced. So Tighnari continued with a bit more seriousness than before. “Deer have around 297 million olfactory receptors, meaning their nose is better than any human’s or dog’s. Their eyes are also better than a human’s at night—and they detect movement faster than people, too. Deer can also hear high frequency sounds, and can move both ears in different directions at the same time. These assets are perfect for helping to track down thieves and rouges. And I’m positive you already know how intelligent little leaf is. Their level of understanding is basically unheard of.”

Cyno nodded, but his face was blank. “I know. But the desert is unforgiving to all. I’m just skeptical about how they might respond to the temperatures of the desert. I wouldn’t want them getting hurt if they can’t fight back.” You were after all, a deer. Sure, you had multiple advantages over Cyno in tracking abilities but you were still considered prey. It was a reasonable thought.

After all, how could they know that you were a human isekai’ed into a deer’s body?

But you were determined to go with Cyno. You rubbed your head into his legs pleadingly. As if to send the message that you would be alright.

Cyno instinctively ran his calloused hand through the fur on your neck, making you preen at the attention. You could tell he was standing on the edge of agreement. He just needed one last nudge.

“Let’s put it this way. I put the little leaf under your care and protection while in the desert so that you can help me record their reactions and adaptability in a different environment. They are, after all, an unknown species of deer. No deer recorded has natural markings like theirs in any document ever, so it’s imperative that we find out as much as we can about them so that we can learn more.” Tighnari reasoned, pointing to your lush furry coat that Cyno was carding through at that very moment. And he was correct. You did have a unique design. (Description below is optional)

Small splotches that looked almost like stars littered your neck and spine, with two small white diamond-like teardrops touching the corner of your eyes. Your eyes were more focused, like there was an actual thought going on inside your head instead of the soul devouring gaze a deer usually had. Your ears were fluffy and faded in an ombre fashion to an almost unnatural pitch black colour, as did your fluffy tail-except it faded to a snowy white. There was even a white four pointed star like the ones you see on a compass rose in the middle of your fluffy forehead.

Safe to say, you didn’t exactly look like a normal deer. “They could very well be the last of their kind, or they lost their parcel in some kind of accident before Collei and I found them. Whatever the case, we need more information to understand how we can help little leaf in the best way possible. Like putting protective laws up to keep them from harm.” Tighnari finished. And that seemed to convince Cyno immediately.

“Alright. I’ll bring them with me. And I swear on my life to keep them safe.” Cyno promised with a solemn nod. Tighnari huffed as he crossed his arms, smile barely hidden.

“You better. Now get going before I change my mind.” Tighnari snapped, making a ‘shoo’ motion with his hand. Cyno stood and gave another nod of respect before turning around and walking out of Gandharva Ville with you at his side. Just as you both walked out of earshot, and out of Tighnari’s sight, he murmured “Stay safe…” before turning around and heading for his hut. So that he could sleep his worries away.

And also because it was past midnight.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

You watched silently as Cyno set up camp behind a large rock that would block out most of the piercing grains of sand flying in the wind. It has been six days since you set off with the general mahamatra into the endless desert. And night was starting to fall. Which meant possible bandit attacks or wild animal attacks. Or maybe a mix of both. It was hard to tell these things before they happened. Minus bandit attacks. Cyno eliminated any human trouble before you could even catch a glimpse of the ruffians.

The wind howled ferociously at both you and Cyno, who seemed unfazed at the sand trying to stab into his eyes and turn him blind. And yet you almost didn’t feel the screaming wind yourself. Probably because of your wonderous coat of fur. Hopefully it wouldn’t be a headache to brush out later. It would add to Cyno’s work, which was already a hassle itself. Curse your lack of hands(once again). You watched as the sun slowly set and the sands cooled before your eyes, giving you reprieve from the sweltering heat. You were just glad you hadn’t grown your winter coat yet. That would have been a nightmare.

The night rose, eclipsing the golden sky as Cyno finished setting up the tent. Yet something felt off. Like when you glance at a picture and then leave, only to return and realize something is different about it but you can’t tell what it is. It was an unsettling feeling in the back of your head that wouldn’t go away.

Cyno seemed to feel it as well, his gaze was dead set on the hills of sand. You stared out at the vast sea, ears perked and swiveling like satellites. But there was nothing odd that you could sense, only the rising wind. You sniffed at the air next. Immediately your nose was rushed with a million different scents, all leading to something different than the last. It had greatly confused you when you first awoke to so many new smells, but over time it became easier to sort them out. Now, your nose was a valuable tool.

And right now, the air crackled with the scent of rain.

You let out a sigh of both relief and disappointment before trotting through the tarp entrance of the tent. Cyno continued to stare at the dunes with an unnerving gaze before turning to follow you inside. But not before grabbing his pike and surveying the area protectively. Just to make sure.

The wind was so angry and wild that you were almost certain your ears were going to bleed out. The rain had arrived with the sandstorm an hour after Cyno had managed to set the camp tent up, meaning you were both lucky enough to not get absolutely clobbered by the bullet-like water droplets.

You could hear nothing but the persistent rain and the raging wind of the midnight storm.

And that meant you couldn’t hear the footsteps approaching with each clap of thunder.

But Cyno knew every trick in the book. Nothing would escape his senses. Not when he had someone important to protect with him. You blearily watched as he tightened his grip on his weapon from where he sat with your fuzzy head in his lap, drowsy from exhaustion. He gently lifted your head from his legs, trading them out for the second of two blankets he had packed for the journey.

Next thing you knew, Cyno was rushing out of the tent like it had been set on fire.

Your mind was hazy from what little sleep you had mustered, so his reaction didn’t fully compute in your brain for multiple minutes before you rushed to your shaky legs. Having four legs instead of two had certainly been a challenge at first, and still was when you weren’t focused or completely energized. So you couldn’t help but berate yourself silently as you wobbled like a drunkard ready to pass out before you made it to the tent flap.

Outside, Cyno was fighting three mercenaries dressed in red in the rain at once. All had sun kissed skin and brownish-black hair, but they used different weapons, meaning Cyno had to duel three different battles all at once. One used a spear, the second had a crossbow with odd smelling arrows, while the third held a metal axe so big you were convinced it better belonged with a mitachurl.

Cyno swung his pizza paddle polearm through the air like it was an extension of himself, blocking a heavy swing coming from the axe-wielder with the shaft of his weapon that glowed amber in the dark night. A whistle sounded through the air as an arrow shot through the sky, bringing its horribly odd scent with it.

You watched, mortified at the realization that Cyno might get hit with what you now realized was an arrow tipped in poison. Time seemed to slow as Cyno turned his head at the sound of the arrow whistling while simultaneously swinging at the axe-wielder and striking him in his chest, ripping through the man’s skin like it was butter. The large man crumpled to the sand. But that wasn’t the end. Just as the arrow was about to strike Cyno’s shoulder, he let out a growl and electro crackled through the air.

“Futile!”

Cyno lunged forward and snapped the arrow into a thousand tiny pieces before leaping at the crossbow user and kicking the weapon out of his hands.

The man let out a yelp that turned into a scream as large bolts of bright purple lightning wracked his body. Cyno was holding the man’s shoulder in an iron grip, using himself like a taser. The male let out a final wail before he slumped over, either dead or unconscious.

For a single second, all was silent.

Then, there was a war cry piercing the air. The third man, the one with the spear, had jumped from the top of a rock and was plummeting down to Cyno with murderous intent.

But Cyno was not fazed.

“Your sins weigh upon your soul!”

There was a sudden explosion of light around Cyno as his vision burned bright in the endless pitch black night. His body was swathed in glowing purple binds that circled and looped into large claw-like hands sharper than any dagger or sword. Runes in an ancient unknown language were burned into the glowing cloth that snaked around his arms. The headpiece glowed with the same runes as eyes, now open and uncovered, shone with golden light. An ominous had aura surrounded Cyno as he called for the divine spirit to indwell him. Now, that aura turned into furious electricity that snapped and swatted at its enemies.

The man with the spear screamed as an elongated electro arm of Pactsworn Pathclearer reached out and grabbed him from mid air. He tried to use his spear to pierce the hand that held him, but it merely broke into minuscule shards the moment it even grazed the claws. In retaliation, it’s grip tightened significantly before it flung the man to the ground, where his head hit a rock with a sickening crack.

And just like that, the battle was over. Three bodies laid in the sand, defeated. There were no more attackers left for Cyno to defeat.

Or at least, that’s what Cyno thought in the second he had let his guard down. Electro fizzling out around him.

You knew otherwise.

Ten more figures emerged from beyond the dunes.

But you were more worried about the sniper with poison tipped arrows and a bow who was aiming right for Cyno at that very moment.

With a bleat, you rushed up the cliff side faster than you had ever run before. Rain still pelleted you like knives as thunder rumbled in the sky high above you. But you continued to run.

The sniper drew the bowstring to the tip of his mouth.

You scrambled to the top of the cliff on shaky legs, making a mad dash for the archer who was so incredibly focused on aiming he didn’t even notice the sound of your pounding hooves as they kicked up sand. Your body hidden in the blackness of night. He would never see you coming.

Cyno stood below, head whipping around as he looked for you frantically. The moon was halfway to approaching midnight but it was already almost pitch black. The rain was no help, either.

The best thing Cyno could do right now is focus on the incoming targets. Their footsteps against the sand were in no way trying to be hidden, and the sickening feeling Cyno was sensing set him on edge.

Cyno’s mind was a flurry of different emotions, but if he wanted to stay alive long enough to look for you and complete his mission, he had to focus on the fight in front of him. So he readied his spear and crouched, gathering all the energy he could into his legs as the waited for the enemies to strike.

Just like Cyno expected, they lunged for him with weapons in hand in a consecutive attack. But Cyno was more than ready. After all, what kind of general mahamatra would he be if he couldn’t defeat ten people? Admittedly, he had never fought ten on one at the same time before and in almost total darkness while it stormed heavily. But there was a first time for everything, right?

The sniper smirked, homing in on his target with horrid mirth twinkling in his eyes. His comrades had surrounded Cyno in a circle, caging him in as he jumped from one fight to another. Though many were beaten and bruised, it did not matter if they fell. For they were merely a distraction so that he may make the shot that would end the wretched general mahamatra Cyno once and for all. His heart beat giddily in his ears as his fingers started to loosen their grip on the poison tipped arrow aimed right at Cyno’s heart.

Though it will not be beating for much longer his mind purred.

Pure thrill pulsed through his veins as he his fingers slowly slip from the bowstring. His heart beat spiked just as his fingers slid from the string, only to let out a mighty howl of pain as something crashed into his shoulder, sending him teetering on the cliff face, his right hand flailing and his toes grazed air. There was a snap as the bowstring thrummed against whatever crashed into him with such force. He let out a colourful string of curses when he realized his aim had been jarred into missing Cyno’s heart.

So when he looked down at the perpetrator:

he saw a deer.

His rage increased tenfold and he let out a furious yowl, gripping onto the creature’s neck as it rushed at him once again. It cried out as they both went careening off the edge of a tall cliff. But the man only smiled manically.

If he could not kill his target, he would take with him the life that tried to protect it. Even if it meant meeting his end.

“NO!”

There was a cry, but it was swept into the whistling wind.

There was a sharp pain in the back of his head.

Then, everything went dark.

Cyno huffed, glaring at the mercenaries with cold eyes as he tightened his grip on his polearm once again. Rain had somehow made it past his visor and onto his face, but he couldn’t care less.

He readied himself to fight once again when there was a loud scream echoing through the desert.

Only seconds after, an arrow shot through the air.

Slicing off Cyno’s bracelet of flowers.

There was another cry. But it was inhuman. Cyno whipped around, heart racing as his eyes caught sight of a man dragging you off of a cliff so high he knew there was likely no chance you were going to survive the fall alive.

“NO!” He screamed, rushing forward. Maybe he could catch you before you hit the ground. But it was futile. The ring of mercenaries would not let him leave.

His wrist felt horribly bare without the bracelet there to occupy it.

Cyno cursed like his life depended on it. Tighnari was going to kill him if he ever found out about this. That was, if he made it out alive, first.

You closed your teary eyes tight as you and the man’s body tumbled through the air. The wind screamed and thunder wailed, and for a split second you could hear nothing. Everything around you was surely passing in a blur.

This was going to hurt. A lot. If you even made it out alive. But what could you do to stay alive and keep the man from getting killed? You didn’t mean to push him off the cliff!

Time seemed to slow as your mind rushed to think of any possible solution. But only scraps of a plan formed.

Whatever!

There isn’t enough time to plan!

Do something before you both die!

So you opened your eyes and winged it.

You bunched your limbs close to your chest and then kicked them straight into the insane man’s chest, making him wheeze but also sending him crashing into a miraculously small ledge head first.

You were accidentally sent flying into the open mouth of a large cave from the force you had put into the kick. A searing pain ripped into your shoulder as you started to loose altitude and fall to the cave floor. A rock had sliced your shoulder open, leaving a blood stain on the rock and a small waterfall of blood trickling down your fur. You let out a cry of pain as you tumbled into the ground blanketed by a thin layer of sand.

You were beaten, but you were alive! Hooray!

The world outside of the cave raged with almost killer intent as the storm grew worse and lightning started to strike as the wind screamed. It was best to stay in the cave until it cooled over, you wisely decided.

You lifted your head at the sound of rumbling from further within the cave, making your ears swivel and your nose twitch. If there was something dangerous deeper in the cave you would rather take your chances with the storm outside.

But all you could smell was the faint scent of dried herbs and burnt fire wood. Which wasn’t very normal for a cave at all. You knew it would be a better idea to stay near the mouth of the cave, but you were injured and your fur was uncomfortably wet and all you wanted at the moment was something to warm yourself up while you waited for the storm to end so that you could look for Cyno.

So with a great heave, you lifted yourself onto your four wobbly legs and adventured deeper into the cave. Your shoulder throbbed with spite as you moved, but you ignored it and continued on.

You limped through a long tunnel filled with iron ore and an unlit stove ,as well as crystals of all colours, making you silently awe at the sight as you passed into a wide cavern filled with luscious green trees and red vultures that hopped branch to branch. Rocks mysteriously started to float in the air the further you walked into the great cavern. As did a bright white light.

By the time you had reached the far end of the cavern, the light was almost blinding. You squinted to make out anything but the tunnel branching deeper into the earth would not yet reveal its secrets to you.

There was another rumble.

The scent of dried herbs grew stronger the longer you stood in front of the glowing tunnel, too nervous to move. A distant feeling of familiarity tickled the back of your mind as your eyes darted around the area nervously. The vultures seemed ignorant as the ground shook, so surely there was no danger nearby. You took a shaky hoof-step back as the walls started to tremble as well. Your ears went flat as you glanced back to the tunnel from whence you came.

Should you leave?

But you could still hear the roar of thunder outside, meaning the storm had yet to stop. No. You could end up getting killed in the storm if you weren’t careful. And your wound still throbbed. It was best to stay in the cave. Though maybe you should just stay near the entrance. Yes, that sounded like a good idea.

You turned your head back around only to be greeted with a long snout sniffing at your fur where the tunnel should have been.

You let out a bleat of surprise and jumped several feet in the air, heart racing.

Then, it hit you.

This was the tunnel to Apep’s den.

And right before you was Apep. Or—it’s head, at least. The tunnel was much too small for its large serpentine-like body to fully fit through.

Oh. So Apep was the one giving off the dried herb smell. That…made sense, actually.

Apep stared down at you with its large glowing eyes that lit up the earth in a gentle glow.

“It has been quite a long time since I have last seen you, Mother. I am overjoyed to know that you are alive and well after all this time.” Apep said, voice gentle and lulling. A stark contrast to what you had heard from behind a screen.

You could only stand shocked, unable to think.

Apep stared at your frozen form with a sad gaze, sighing through it’s nose sadly(if that was even possible). “Ah, I see you do not remember. But that is to be expected after all that happened back then.” Apep paused to lower it’s head to the ground and nudge your furry cheek gently with it’s own. “You are the Creator of Teyvat. So you are Divine Mother of all. Though how I see it, only the mighty dragons like myself should be allowed to call you Mother. For we were the first. But perhaps your tastes have changed over the time you were gone. Shall I call you Divine One, one of your many titles?”

Apep’s words barely made sense to you right now. But one thing you knew very well.

Apep had called you the divine creator of Teyvat.

But truly, you wanted nothing more than to just be called by your name. No tittle needed. Maybe it was because Apep’s words had yet to sink in or you didn’t wish to be put upon a pedestal. Or maybe because you were a truly kind being to all. (This was really starting to feel like one of the SAGAU! fanfictions you liked to read in your free time) (and also because you didn’t want Arlechino to come after you)

But how were you going to get that across to Apep?

You let out a bleat.

The lights all along Apep’s sides glowed in recognition as it’s eyes somehow grew kinder and happier.

“I understand. That is a lovely name. May I truly be allowed to call you by it?” Apep said. You nodded. You would like nothing more than for Apep to call your by name. “Very well. Now, how is it that we have come to meet after all this time?”

And so, you told Apep everything that happened in the past week.

And it had some very strong words to say about some things. But Apep promised that once the storm passed it would make sure you reunited with Cyno.

And you did. Cyno did not physically show the worry on his face but he never let you out of his sight for the rest of the mission. Even as he dragged an unconscious rouge researcher behind him with an iron grip.

It was also safe to say, Cyno got a good scolding from Tighnari when you returned to Gandharva Ville.

╚⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤╝

#genshin impact #deer #deer anon #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #tighnari #cyno #cynonari #collei #genshin apep #Apep #creator #creator!reader #deer! creator #this took way too long #how many words is this?#hope I did well

346 notes · View notes

ao3commentoftheday · 6 months

Note

This is more of a question for the fanfic author community at large. Recently I had someone tell me they were writing a fic based on my fic. I was obviously flattered by it. But when their fic was posted, it was basically a re-write of exactly what I'd written. And that made me feel uncomfortable, because my story was a very specific AU. I know in fandom/fanfic anything goes and people are free to do what they want. Who am I to say 'no you can't write this'? I brushed it off and let it go. But it just got me internally asking: what are some rules of decorum around fics inspired by other fics? Can I as an author say it made me uncomfortable? If author A is writing something based on author B's work, is it expected for author A to tell author B about it? I welcome any other discussion on this topic that I didn't cover in my questions because I'm curious to see what others think! Thanks!

I'm not going to lie to you, anon, this one can be a bit of a minefield.

There's a tradition? (if that's the right word) in fandom of asking permission before writing a work inspired by someone else's fanwork.

While we don't do this with the creators of canon, we also don't share a community with the creators of canon. In fandom spaces, everyone knows everyone to a certain degree. This might be less true now that fandom has exploded in popularity in recent years, but even so.

I personally love when someone writes something inspired by my work, and I've written a few fics inspired by others too. It's part of that community sharing that I value so much in fandom.

But the minefield comes in when the original fan author feels like the "inspired by" fic is a little too close to their own.

Emotions can be fraught in online spaces where tone is hard to convey over text and there tends to be an assumption of the worst motives and interpretations rather than the best.

You're definitely well within your rights to feel uncomfortable about what that other person wrote. I'm not going to tell you that your emotions are wrong or unfounded. In fact, I'd likely feel the same way if I were in your place.

What you do about that feeling is your own decision to make. Do you just sit on it and hope it goes away? Do you reach out to that other author and say something about it? Do you just vent to a friend and get it out that way?

Folks who have had similar experiences, share what happened if you're willing. From either A or B's perspective.

#asks and answers

1K notes · View notes

fanworkspermissionstatement · 1 year

Text

[Image description: The title, "Fanworks Permission Statement Builder," and black line-drawing-style pictures of a hand holding a pencil and of a microphone with a pop filter, over a background of crumpled paper. End ID.] (credit to @rystonlentil for the image ID)

Hey fanworks creators!

Excited about the idea of someone creating something based on your fan creation (like podfics, fanart, translations, etc)? On the other hand, do you not want people creating stuff based off your fanworks and don't want to have to turn them down? Or do you have a more nuanced idea of what you are and aren't comfortable with people doing based on your fan creations? Don't particularly care one way or the other about what people create based on your stuff?

SPEND JUST A FEW MINUTES TO QUICKLY GENERATE A FANWORKS PERMISSION STATEMENT LETTING PEOPLE KNOW YOUR PREFERENCES!!!

What is a fanworks permission statement?

A fanworks permission statement (also known as a blanket permission statement or transformative works permission statement) is very simple: it's something you post in a publically-visible place (usually your AO3 profile) that tells other fan creators what you are and aren't okay with in terms of other people making fanworks based off your stuff. It can be as simple as a sentence or two, or as complicated as you want to communicate your preferences clearly.

Who should have a permission statement?

A permission statement is for anyone that creates fanworks! Yes, even if you don't think anyone would ever want to create something based off your fanworks. You never know! It's not egotistical to post a permission statement, it's HELPFUL. Yes, even if you don't want people making something based off your works. It means no one has to reach out to ask you, they can know your preferences right away.

Is it only for fanfic writers?

Absolutely not! It's great for fan creators of ALL kinds to have a fanworks permission statement! Fanartists, someone might want to use your fanart as inspiration for a fanfic or create fanart inspired by your work in a different medium! Podficcers, other people creating in an audible medium might want to insert clips of your podfics into their work, or copy the way you did certain effects! Fanbinders, you might inspire an artist with the way you do your binding! This is really for everyone, because fandom is infinitely creative and who knows how another fan creator might be inspired by your work!

What do I even say in a permission statement?

That's exactly why we built the Fanworks Permission Statement Builder! So you don't have to think about what to say or how to say it. Just spend a few minutes answering questions about your preferences that cover many of the common things people might want to specify, and you'll have a permission statement ready to copy-and-paste into your AO3 profile, or to edit to your heart's content!

Why use the Fanworks Permission Statement Builder?

Don't want to come up with a permission statement on your own? Not sure what should even go into a permission statement? Want someone to at least give you a starting place that you can edit to better reflect your preferences? Want someone to just hand you a ready-to-use permission statement that you can paste into your profile? Spend just a few minutes answering some questions about your preferences, and you'll have a permission statement ready to use or edit!

#fandom permission statement #fandom permission statement builder #blanket permission #transformative works statement #bp #transformative works #fanfic #fanart #podfic #translation #fanbinding

1K notes · View notes

wndaswife · 1 year

Text

a change in you | wanda maximoff & gn!reader

A strong friendship had developed between you and Wanda after she moved to the compound, but ever since you'd gotten a girlfriend, she grew distant and abrasive without explanation.

Word count: 5228

Tags: smut, angst, jealousy, fluff, fingering, this was written in september and i needed to get it out of drafts, so there will be stylistic differences, sub!wanda maximoff, dom!reader. MINORS DNI.

gif credit to creator.

“What do you like about sitcoms?” you asked Wanda, looking over to her as you lifted a handful of popcorn to your mouth. She was leaning against you, your head resting atop hers as her eyes were focused on the black-and-white scene in front of her. Your cheek was pressed against the top of Wanda’s head, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.

Wanda shrugged, reaching up to take a few pieces of popcorn from your hand instead of the large bowl laying in her lap. “I’ve always liked them,” she answered. You loved hearing about Wanda’s childhood, the life she held so dearly to her heart.

Beyond the Strucker experiments, beyond HYDRA and Ultron, beyond being an Avenger, Wanda Maximoff had an innate devotion to love and be loved in return. Everyone she had ever loved and lost were held deep within her. Wanda was driven by those lucky enough to be loved by her, driven to appease, to create a universe within your busy lives for the two of you. The reason she fought, dreamt, and lived was for the profound depths that laid beyond the guises of being a fighter, formed with the intention of filling it with a life surrounded by family.

Watching sitcoms became a tradition for the two of you at the end of the week, cuddled up under mounds of thick blankets and snacks that you introduced Wanda to. Tonight, it was something simple- Maltesers and popcorn.

“As a child, my family would drop everything to watch sitcoms together. My father worked all day. My mother homeschooled Pietro and I,” Wanda recalled. “We were poor. My parents tried their best to make a life for us. When we sat together in front of the television at the end of the day, it was one of the only times I felt like we were a normal family. Like a better future was plausible.”

She lifted her head from your shoulder and looked up at you. With a smile that never ceased to make your heart swell, she said, “And now, it’s a tradition for us.”

That was a month ago, and the last time you and Wanda spent time together.

Wanda left the communal kitchen and lounge area whenever you entered the room. She never answered when you knocked on her bedroom door. During meetings and conferences, she would choose not to sit by you, and if she had no choice but to take the seat beside you, she wouldn’t utter a word to you nor even meet your eyes. Sometimes she’d even choose to stand for the meetings entirety.

You’d gotten Natasha to speak with Wanda for you, and that seemed innocent enough until she brought you up.

Maybe someone detached from the Avenger life would be more effective in getting information from Wanda. You asked Marie to speak to her for you.

Marie was your girlfriend who you’d only just started seeing. She was funny and big-hearted, and insanely smart. You had met her on a mission while she was interning for the Avengers’ lead nursing team. Despite everything, Wanda hated her, and that wasn’t an exaggeration.

You’d heard from some of the others that she’d been talking badly about her ever since the day you got Marie to approach Wanda while she was making lunch for herself. The things you’d heard that Wanda said about her was entirely uncharacteristic of her. She was never like this before.

She’d done a complete one-eighty — one day she had been cuddling up to you on a Friday night like you’d always done with her, then avoiding you all at once and telling your mutual friends that Marie was a gold-digging whore who only wanted you for your title as an Avenger.

Wanda’s validation of your relationship was evidently important to you, yet you didn’t question why it was for a moment through the weeks you craved her approval of Marie. What lay in deep slumber like a sleeping dragon within you beyond layers of confusion and frustration was something you would’ve classified as heartbreak if you had paid any mind to it. You found it was easier on you to be shrouded in infuriated shadows rather than to feel the pain of having Wanda turn on you the way she had, like the flick of a switch as if you had meant nothing to her.

Months of movie nights and conversations and hours spent comforting her and making her laugh- was it no more than a fleeting memory? Had Wanda always intended it to be this way?

Sightings of the Sokovian became scarce. She had taken up a significant amount of missions despite Steve’s advising against it as she volunteered to be dispatched for the smallest of expeditions. Even the Avengers had their working hours, and ever since she’d met Marie, Wanda had been working overtime. When she wasn’t on missions, she was out.

Always out.

Even while Wanda hadn’t been seen by you in days, Marie refused to come around the compound anymore. She was a particularly conflict-avoidant woman, and once she got word of what Wanda had been saying about her, Marie told you that she refused to intrude into Wanda’s territory any longer. The distance was putting a strain on your relationship with her.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t seen Marie since Wanda’s criticisms of your girlfriend reached you, because you had. You often met with her outside the compound in the city, or her apartment in Queens. But it wasn’t enough to patch whatever rifts had formed between the two of you. Perhaps it was also the tension Wanda had put on your relationship; the strange wire you were walking on while both evading confronting Wanda and wanting to defend your girlfriend.

Wanda was your best friend, and she still was, wasn’t she? If there was a chance to talk about what she had said about Marie as friends rather than people deluded by misinterpretation and blind anger, then you would take it. You just had to wait for the chance to come.

But as time went on, waiting for Wanda to apologise and anticipating to see her in the hallways one day, your relationship with Marie only continued to slowly fracture, from her cancelling plans to ignoring your calls entirely. Not only was time for Wanda running out, but you had quickly grown tired of waiting for her as it became clear that she wasn’t going to approach you or take her words back.

You weren’t sure why Wanda had stopped talking to you, why she had suddenly belittled your partner, or why she had completely flipped a switch on you, but you had no more patience in waiting for answers. You needed one, at least. If Wanda could tell you why she had given up on her friendship with you, things would be easier. If she refused to befriend you, even without rationalisation, you would build up from there. An answer — that was all you needed.

There were no missions today, no excursions, no errands that needed to be done that Wanda could take up as an excuse for avoiding you. When you asked her room neighbour, Vision told you she had left early in that morning and was yet to return. You had even asked him if he knew what was wrong with her, and he simply told you that she was concerned for you. Within his ever wise and omniscient advice, he told you that you should’ve considered how distressed she was, how heavy conflict could be for particularly-affected individuals.

Bullshit.

Wanda wasn’t ‘distressed.’ She was being a bitch, and you had enough of waiting for her to take responsibility for what she's done and be a good person, to apologise for what she said. Because she wouldn’t on her own.

You pushed open the doors of the compound’s training room. Clashing metal echoed through the illustrious room, filled with ever-updating technology and machines set up solely for training and practice. The newest addition to the gymnasium was the holopad. It was a four-dimensional holographic platform for hand-to-hand combat training.

You rounded the training room’s equipment to see the holopad being used, a figure of flashing red and ivory white reducing Ultron bots to holographic pixels. His familiar robotic voice spoke gibberish as they approached Wanda from all angles.

She was quicker than she had been during the battle in Sokovia. Her senses were peaked, her fingers flexing and her arms outstretched to take the approaching holograms by their heads, detaching them from their necks. Pixelated metal torsos were ripped from their bodies, robotic cries of defeat echoed against the otherwise empty room as their bodies dissipated and formed new training targets.

One of the program’s more impressive feats was that the user could program for the machine to conjure any adversary. Sometimes, for Tony, it was Steve. For Wanda, Ultron. But today, you expected for the pixelated opponents to be of Marie’s face.

You approached the holopad, standing at the base of its staircase before calling Wanda’s name out.

The sudden noise made her flinch, breaking her focus and allowing the Ultron bots to reach her. Their holographic arms permeated her body, causing a myriad of colours to reflect against her before the holopad flashed red and reset to its blank state.

She looked down at you, panting as she steadied her breath. Wanda pushed her hair back and looked down to her hands to take her gloves off, sensory coverings that helped the pad tell where her hands were and the magic she was using as she fought. Wanda stepped down from the platform, velcro sounding loudly as she slipped the black gloves off and laid them on the control tablet’s stand.

“What do you want?” she asked in vexation, placing her hands on her hips and staring straight at you. She was wearing black leggings and a grey tank, strands of dark hair slick against her forehead.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?“ you snapped, taking a step towards her, demanding an answer even through the way you approached her.

Wanda feigned ignorance, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She turned to pick her water bottle up from the floor, but you took hold of her wrist, forcing her to straighten and face you again.

“You called my girlfriend a gold-digging whore,” you reminded her with a scowl. Wanda forced her wrist out of your hold at the mention of Marie.

“And?” she retorted, her head tipping to the side, daring you to argue with her.

You scoffed, and Wanda bristled, almost disappointed you weren’t more angry. “And?” you repeated incredulously. Wanda’s eyebrows raised expectantly. “We didn’t do anything to you.”

Stiff lines formed on either side of Wanda’s jaw as she clenched her teeth, her eyes widening in apparent fury. She shouted as if the basic foundations of a relationship were unheard of by her, “We? Is that what you and Marie are now? You care about what she thinks?”

You shrugged with your palms upturned, your expression frozen in disbelief. “I don’t know, Wanda. Did you think things would be the same after we started dating?”

The muscles in Wanda’s neck flexed, her nostrils flaring as she exhaled heavily, her body trembling with restrained anger. She turned suddenly, picking up her waterbottle and speeding past you in a furious delirium.

You followed after her, picking up speed as Wanda did as she tried to flee from your vicinity. “We’re not doing this again! We’re not just going to stop talking for weeks, just for me to have to chase after you like this!” you called from behind her.

“Chasing after me? You’re such a mess,” Wanda scoffed as she pushed the gym’s doors open, not bothering to hold it open for you. It nearly crashed into your face and you stuck your hands out to catch it, pushing it forward and slamming it against the adjacent wall as you glowered at Wanda from behind. You followed Wanda into the hallway leading into the changing rooms and showers.

Your hand made contact with her shoulder and you pulled her back, spinning her around and causing her to stumble until she steadied herself to face you. The tears forming in your eyes made Wanda’s angry veil crack momentarily. “Why are you acting like this?” you asked her, your voice breaking. Having been masked with Marie’s company and utter confusion for the last month, the sorrow of losing Wanda from your life took seeing her in person to set in.

Wanda’s eyes flickered between both of yours. Her expression softened but her resolve did not. “I don’t understand why you care about me so much, Y/N. You have… Marie,” she whispered out, trying to meet your eyes through your glassy tears. The very act of saying your girlfriend’s name was an obvious struggle for her.

You wiped your eyes with the back of your wrists and laughed humorlessly. “Wanda…” you mumbled out. Your hands dropped to your sides and you met her eyes, the most sincere the two of you have been in weeks. “It doesn’t matter who else I have in my life. It never would’ve mattered. You’re you. Marie is Marie.”

She shook her head, her eyes not leaving yours for a moment. “What are you trying to say?” she asked you cluelessly.

“I mean that I missed you, and all you were doing was avoiding me no matter how hard I tried to get your attention. Do you regret getting close to me?”

Wanda inhaled shakily, her shoulders raising. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a hug and closing her eyes. “I missed you too,” she said into your hair, squeezing you tighter. “Y/N, you don’t understand.”

Anger scorched up your throat and you pushed Wanda away, causing her to stumble backwards. “What don’t I understand, Wanda? You can’t just keep doing this to me.”

“No, Y/N, I—“

“I don’t want to hear anymore bullshit.”

“It’s not! Stop interrupting me and listen.”

You pushed past her anyways, your eyes brimming with tears as your vision became clouded. To have Wanda see you like this, someone who was perfectly fine with pretending you didn’t exist for a month, was certain death.

Four words suddenly blurted out from behind you, attaching chains to your ankles and stopping you where you stood.

“Y/N, I love you.”

Your chin met your shoulder as you looked back at Wanda. Her shoulders were raised, her posture tense as her fists clenched.

“I love you,” she repeated, and you saw her shoulder raise when she inhaled sharply.

You turned around completely, your body facing hers. “I heard you,” you answered. Wanda might’ve fled the room in tears had it not been for the confused furrow of your eyebrows and the trembling of your bottom lip.

“I wished—” Wanda’s mouth shut and she swallowed before correcting herself, “I wish you had never met Marie. I wish you had never started dating her.” The confession spilled from beyond her lips as if it was hastily scripted, her words’ intentions clear but her execution painfully poor.

“You really don’t like her…?” you questioned meekly.

An exasperated sigh escaped from Wanda, her entire body deflating as you continued to misunderstand her. “I don’t like her,” she said. “She’s not good enough for you. Not funny or that smart.”

Your hand raised to your forehead and you massage your temple with your thumb. Your arm fell to your side and you looked straight ahead at Wanda with helpless eyes.

She was taking steps towards you without warning after dropping her waterbottle to the floor, not giving you a moment to even stumble backwards before one of Wanda’s hands wrapped around the back of your neck, her other coming up to cup your cheek. She pulled you against her, crushing your lips against hers bruisingly. You watched her eyes screw together tightly before your own eyes fluttered shut.

Your hands found her hips and you pulled her against you.

Desperate groans and greedy moans were exchanged into your mouths between warm pants. Without conscious volition, your hands began to roam Wanda’s body, taking your best friend in ways you had never before as your hands ran up her back, gripping her sides with possession that made Wanda melt.

You disconnected from Wanda’s swollen lips and leaned down to bury your face into the crook of her neck, her soft hair shrouding your face as you peppered wet kisses up the side of her neck. You could feel the vibrations of her moans against your lips.

“Y/N,” Wanda whimpered your name out. Your tongue ran flush up Wanda’s neck, making her shiver and stumble in your hold before your lips reached her jaw and you sucked at her skin. You found yourself walking forward, leaving Wanda to stagger backwards in attempts to catch up with you and avoid tripping. She was led backwards until her back was pressed against something firm, and she was trapped firmly between you and the wall.

You raised your head and looked at Wanda, a small smile pulling at your lips at the sight of her dishevelled hair and flushed cheeks. “I love you too, Wanda,” you finally told her, your forehead pressed against hers as she looked at you.

Wanda was an enigma. Truly. Her eyes began to well in warm tears and her head hung as she cried into your chest. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she sobbed. “I missed you so much. It was so painful to… But I didn’t know what else to do.” Your hands raised from her waist and you wrapped your arms around Wanda’s trembling shoulders, hushing her softly as she continued to cry. “I couldn’t stand seeing you with her, to know that I could never be what she is to you.”

Pulling away from her enough to cup her cheek and tilt her head up, you kissed Wanda’s tear-stained cheeks. “You are everything to me. With someone else or not, I love you, Wanda. I always will,” you said, your thumb stroking her cheekbone gently. “I shouldn’t have let you feel that way.”

“Don’t,” she argued. Wanda buried her face into the crook of your neck and closed her eyes. Her arms were wrapped around your waist and you wondered if she’d ever let go. You imagined that having Wanda hanging onto your waist until the end of time wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “I don’t want to think about that anymore,” Wanda muttered. She whispered, “Just be with me.”

“Always,” you replied. Your hand cradled the back of Wanda’s head, your other arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulling her into a tight hug.

After a few silent moments of being embraced by one another, Wanda pulled away from you, slipping out from between you and the wall with a small sniffle. Her arm that was wrapped around your waist fell to her side before she took your hand in hers. With a smile that made your heart swell, as it had hundreds of times before like it would in your future, Wanda led you forward. She pushed open the door to the shower room and the two of you walked in, passing Wanda’s locker and handfuls of others while you followed behind her and watched the swaying of her long dark hair.

Once arriving at one of the showers, Wanda pushed the shower curtain open and turned the shower’s hot water on. While steam began clouding around the two of you, Wanda let go of your hand and undressed. Eye contact was only broken with you when she pulled her shirt over her head. Her ivory skin glistened with a thin layer of shower steam and she stepped towards you when she was simply in her bra and underwear.

Your hands rounded her body as you undid her bra while Wanda tugged at your pants’ waistband before it fell to the ground. Her bra slipped from her shoulders and it dropped on top of your pants. You wrapped an arm around her hips and leaned down to press a kiss to the valley of her breasts. Wanda looked down at you with a soft smile while she played with your hair.

Slow fingers hooked the waistband of her panties and you pulled them down. Wanda stepped out of the garment once it fell to the shower room’s floor.

Wanda undressed you next, her hands running up the soft plains of your body. Green eyes flickered over every inch of your bareness in attempts to saturate you into her memory forever. Her palms ran up your chest and she placed her hands on your shoulders. Wanda pulled the shower curtain back again and she led you in.

Your fingers traced the stretch marks on Wanda’s hips as she walked backwards into the shower. The two of you were soon shrouded in its steam. “You’re so beautiful, Wanda,” you whispered, soaking in her bare body as a flower to the sun at the break of dawn. Her cheeks flushed pink and you kissed her when she tried to look away.

Neither of you bothered to close the shower curtain and you pushed Wanda into the shower wall carefully. Your hand found its way between her thighs and she let out a shaky breath against your lips. Both of your bodies became wet with hot water, but it was you who was responsible for the sticky slick that coated Wanda’s inner thighs.

Your fingers delved into Wanda’s folds while your thumb drew lazy shapes against her clit. Wanda’s head was lolled back against the wall, moaning out in pleasure. Her arms were wrapped around your neck, pulling you ever closer as if frightened that you might leave without warning. Your other hand groped Wanda’s breast, your palm running smoothly against her hardened nipple.

“Y/N, please,” Wanda pleaded, her eyes opening to meet yours, her emerald gaze seeping with desperation. Her hips jerked down against your fingers. Pride swelled in your chest as you watched her writhe for you, a sight reserved only for you. “I want to feel you,” she whispered against your lips. “I want to be yours.”

Moving forward to kiss Wanda’s cheek, you laid your forehead against hers as your slick fingers centred against her opening. You felt her thighs trembling against your own and pushed her further against the shower wall, holding her up. Smooth fingers delved past her opening and Wanda clenched her jaw, a restrained groan leaving her. With a fluttering heart, you watched as her eyes screwed shut, her mouth falling open to moan her hot breath against your chin.

Your lips captured hers, though it was short-lived as your fingers pushed through her velvety walls and Wanda panted out hasty exhales. Once before, you had discussed sex with Wanda. She wasn’t a virgin, although her first time consisted of a myriad of lazy kisses and disinterested fucking. From what you knew, Wanda hadn’t been seeing anyone, and although you had recently spent a month without speaking, the way she clenched around your digits and exhaled trembling breaths implied she hadn’t been touched like this in quite a while.

At the realisation, you ducked your head down and pressed openmouthed kisses to her neck, her wet hair sticking to every plain of skin it could find. Wanda's head was thrown back, her body arching into yours as her hips lowered in jerky motions. She craved more yet knew so little in what the tightening in her lower stomach meant with you. But you were receptive.

Fingers quickened and the Sokovian’s moans turned into what could only be described as squeals. She tried pulling back, pressing her ass against the wall at the sudden unfamiliar intrusion into her pussy, but your wrist surged forward, refusing to part from Wanda’s cunt. The heel of your hand met her clit and you flattened it against her sensitive nub.

Wanda whimpered in response, her entire body melting in your hold despite the juxtaposing quivering of her walls.

Leaving cold trails of saliva in your wake, your kisses reached the valley of her breasts and you let go of one to cup her cheek. At the feeling of your warm hand caressing her, Wanda’s eyes fluttered open. Her head tipped down and she met your eyes, audacious and unequivocal as you looked up at her from between her breasts.

With your hand still on her cheek, you made her look down at you when your lips wrapped around a rosy erect nipple. Shaky lips formed into a smile as Wanda watched the way you loved her.

“Y/N,” Wanda whimpered meekly, “that feels so good.” Amongst the pleasurable writhing deep within her lower stomach as your fingers continued to fuck her pussy was the intertwining of something warm that only grew the longer she watched you suckle at her breast gently. “You make me feel…”

Your lips found her other nipple and Wanda struggled to maintain eye contact with you. You allowed her to loll her head back against the shower wall in mindless pleasure.

“... So good,” Wanda uttered, her words mumbled out from her mouth weakly. The shower fogged up with hot steam as hot water continued to stream down on the two of you, which was a partial reason as to why the rising and falling of Wanda’s chest was perpetually quickening. You hummed in response, the soft exhaling from your nose teasing at her nipple.

The sound of your thrusting fingers found an accelerating tempo while Wanda’s cunt squelched with the repetitive penetration of her tight hole. The soft hiss of the running hot shower behind you turned into a muddled hum as your senses were filled with nothing but Wanda’s moans, the feeling of her cunt wrapped around your fingers, the feeling of her soft creamy skin running under your hands.

A teasing tug of Wanda’s nipple from between your teeth made her yelp, and despite the reaction, she pulled you closer. You raised yourself up to her face again and began rubbing the heel of your hand against her clit side to side.

“You gonna come soon, Wands?” you asked her, a teasing smirk on your lips.

Through her weak haze, Wanda grinned in return at the use of the nickname. It’d been so long since she’d heard it last. She pulled herself against you, her head resting on your shoulder. “Gonna come,” she confirmed, hugging her arms around your neck tightly. “I love being with you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

Your arm raised to wrap around her waist, your hand pressing flush against her back and pulling her closer. You kissed Wanda’s temple and felt her smile against your neck. “I love you too, Wanda. So much,” you uttered against her wet skin. “Come for me, my angel.”

Despite the curling of your fingers deep within her pussy, it was your use of the pet name that brought Wanda to her high. She buried her face further into your neck when she came, but you raised your head, pulling back slightly to watch her screwed-shut eyes and parted lips. Her knees buckled and she fell forward against you, but you held her up. The raspy cries that left her from beyond her soft lips were comparable to siren’s calls, tempting and every moment alluring.

You had never seen her this way before, and no one else but you ever would. Wanda was every inch yours as you’d be for her from then on, belonging to her, your best friend and the only woman you’d ever love.

Wanda’s arms were limp around your neck as her orgasm washed over her in its final moments. Her arms slipped from your shoulders and dropped to your hips instead, holding you albeit weakly. Her thighs trembled as she held herself up, her hips buckling against yours. She panted against your neck, her warm breath travelling down your chest and hardening your nipples.

With a proud smile, you slipped your fingers out of Wanda’s cunt and she whimpered, hips jerking down at the empty feeling. After running the tips of your fingers through her folds, you slipped your hand out from between Wanda’s thighs. Hooded green eyes looked up at you as you slid your coated fingers past your lips, cheeks hollowing in as you savoured her tangy sweet flavour. Wanda flushed at the sight and you took your fingers out of your mouth to lean down and kiss her.

No resistance was present when you pushed your tongue past Wanda’s lips, spreading the flavour of her pussy through her mouth. When you parted from her lips to press a kiss to her forehead, Wanda mumbled out, “I love you.” The words gave her an instant high, having been burying it deep within her ever since she’d known you, the closest she’d ever gotten to bringing it to the surface being in platonic humorous confessions of love between friends. But now it was different. Wanda could love you without hesitation.

Your hand came to the back of her head, stroking her hair as you whispered sweet promises against her warm skin.

If given enough time, Wanda would’ve been able to fall asleep standing up as you held her, hot water encapsulating both your bodies.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Wanda,” you told her and she smiled up at you sleepily.

For the next little while, you washed Wanda’s hair, scratching at her scalp gently as she leaned back into you. You pulled her backwards to run her shampooed hair under the shower, your fingers raking through her long hair as you washed it through. You pressed kisses to Wanda’s body at every given chance, on her shoulders, her neck, her ears, her shoulder blades.

It was true that things were different, and after that day, it always would be. But there was something so special about loving silence that both you and Wanda shared, and irregardless of the changes that would come about, your hearts would continue to swell larger than any spiel of words could at the stillness your shared love brought.

You’d never love each other from a distance again, no word gone unexchanged, no moment of time spent hiding the way every instinct screamed out with a fervent desire to reach out to one another, yearning for the embrace of the other.

You could embrace Wanda in a way you’d never been able to before, or rather because you hadn’t ever known what your feelings for her meant —the tightening in your chest when she had avoided you, the fluttering of your heart when she took your hand.

Throughout the years that would pass spent with her, one thing would always remain true; Wanda and you have always loved each other, in the longing stares and the hidden blushes, in the stabilising of your quickening heart when you took Wanda into your chest and listened to her steady breaths.

When you’d rinsed Wanda’s body of soap and her hair of shampoo, she turned to pull you close and looked up at you. “I’ll be yours forever, won’t I, Y/N?” she asked.

Without even a moment’s worth of thinking it over, you answered, “Always.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel #bottom wanda maximoff #marvel smut #elizabeth olsen

2K notes · View notes

lordprettyflackotara · 16 days

Text

breath away || chris sturniolo & colby brock

SMUT. 18+. MINORS DNI. this is fluffy smut ngl to you guys. no actual sex sorry :( to my beloved readers: yes there will be a part two. yes i also have a spin off concept with sam & matt. writers block has been a BIG BITCH you guys. hope everyone’s summer is going well. enjoy!!

the finale is here

Parties were not your scene by any means.

You were new to the Youtube community or the whole ‘content creator’ thing. A career you thoroughly enjoyed, but was not built for the weak. You tended to be more of a recluse than a social butterfly. Tara Yummy was the first creator to attempt to befriend you, her attempt successful. Your collab broke the internet, Tara ecstatic for you. The two of you became quick friends, spending copious amounts of time together.

Your friendship and trust in her is what led you to this party, the blinding purple lights enough to give you a headache. You felt like a lost puppy, awkwardly trailing behind Tara as she introduced you to people. You knew she didn’t mind, but you felt out of place. Your head was spinning, meeting so many people in such a short amount of time. The place was huge, seas of people at every turn. Once Tara had circled back to Jake, you cleared your throat.

“I’m gonna go use the restroom i’ll be back,” You say, halfway telling the truth. You needed a moment to breathe, a moment to think. “Take the elevator down to the fourth floor, that’s the cleanest one,” Tara suggested, the two of you going your separate ways. You squeezed through the obnoxious couples making out, wheezling your way through the crowd. You almost tripped over your heels as you reached the elevator, two familiar faces waiting for it as well.

“Going up?”

Colby Brock. Handsome. Tall. Older. You were sure you had met him before. But where? You didn’t have time to think about it, realizing you needed to answer the question. “Down actually, fourth floor,” You replied, awkwardly standing beside him. The building Tara had booked for this party was insanely tall. You didn’t even want to think about how many floors this building actually had.

“You guys are lucky, i’m stuck going to the twelfth to try to find Nick.”

Chris Sturniolo. One of three triplets. Outgoing. Handsome. Charismatic. Tara would be freaking out for you right now if she saw this was the line up for your elevator ride. “Yeah I think Sam’s on the fourth floor trying to find his ex, i’m trying to find him and stop him,” Colby sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. You weren’t sure what to say, the dinging of the elevator snapping you back to life.

Chris gestured for you to enter first. “After you m’lady,” He said, causing you to shyly smile. You walked in, pressing the four button and leaning against the back wall of the elevator. Your feet were killing you, the heels you borrowed from Tara promising an inability to walk in the morning. Colby strolled in, Chris following behind him. He pressed the button for twelve, the three of you briefly standing in silence. The boys stood on opposite sides of the elevator, all of you facing each other.

“You and Sam just went to the Lizzie Borden house again right?” Chris asked. Colby smiled, his blue eyes addicting to look at. “Yeah, we felt like revisiting it alone. It’s such an interesting story,” He replied. Chris nodded, readjusting his backwards hat.

“Matt’s obsessed with that case, he thinks that-”

You could faintly hear both of the boys talking, your hearing dulling as the elevator slowly began to move. The stained yellow lights were off putting, the space suddenly seeming a lot smaller than it did when you entered. Your eyes flickered to the row of buttons, numbers one through thirty listed on the panels. Jesus fucking Christ. The elevator felt insanely small, the walls feeling like they could close in and squeeze you to death at any moment. You knew this was irrational, a fear you had developed when you were a kid.

You swallowed, your mouth running dry. Your eyes squeezed shut, the unsettling jolt of the elevator coming to a stop ensuing. You waited to hear the familiar ding of the elevator, followed by the sound of the doors opening, but you didn’t. You opened your eyes, the boys conversation long discarded as they stared at the elevator doors. “Is it supposed to do that?” Chris asked. If you weren’t so afraid you would’ve rolled your eyes. Colby approached the row of buttons, pressing the one to open the metal doors.

Nothing happened, the elevator appearing frozen between the ninth and eighth floor. You could see the digital number stuck, your heart beginning to race. Your ears began to ring, your eyes seeing Colby and Chris’s lips move with no words coming out. You leaned back against the metal railing, bracing yourself from falling over. You felt an unsettling dizziness wash over you, your gaze glued to the dirty elevator floor. What had you gotten yourself into? What if you died in here? What if the cord snapped on this old ass box and you all fell to your tragic deaths? What if-

“Hey! Are you okay?”

You blinked a few times, Colby’s large hands grasping your shoulders. He was shaking you, your vision faintly seeing stars as you looked up at him. His and Chris’s faces were full of concern, looking down at you. You nodded, swallowing. “She doesn’t look so good dude,” Chris commented. Colby elbowed him, before returning his attention back to you. “We’re gonna be okay, alright? Chris is gonna call somebody,” Colby said. Chris took the hint, whipping out his cell phone and beginning to make calls.

Colby’s blue orbs studied your face. “What’s wrong?” He asked softly. You were struggling to find the words, your mouth running dry. “Claustrophobic,” You sputtered out. Colby brushed a few stray hairs out of your face, tucking them behind your ear. “It’s gonna be okay,” He reassured, turning to Chris. Chris angrily shoved his phone in his pocket. “I have zero fucking cell service in here,” He sighed. Colby took out his own phone, his touch straying from yours.

Oddly enough you missed his touch, his hands on your shoulders providing comfort. “Chris she’s claustrophobic, I need to try to get help, can you talk to her?” Colby asked. He was aggressively typing away on his phone, trying to achieve one bar of cell service. Chris nodded. The boy before you was maybe your age, maybe a bit younger. You could never tell. “Hi ma,” He greeted. You gave a small wave, before your hand resumed its grip on the railing. Your knuckles were borderline turning white, Chris not failing to notice.

“Hey hey it’s alright, what can I do?” Chris asked, alarmed. You couldn’t find the right words, your eyes flickering around the elevator. It was so small, the walls threatening to close in every extra second you three spent hanging by a cord. You felt two hands softly cup your face, your gaze landing on their owner. Chris stood before you, his hands soft to the touch as his thumb grazed your cheek. “You’re okay,” He whispered. The strangers words were comforting, your breathing beginning to slow back down to a normal rate.

Chris had decent knowledge of anxiety, even if it wasn’t the claustrophobic kind. He knew the in’s and out’s of how to help Matt calm down. But you? You were just a pretty girl he was locked in an elevator with. Sure he knew your name, who didn’t? But your personality? Your ticks? How to calm you down? He didn’t know any of that. All he could truly speculate, was that you seemed to respond well to physical touch. He cleared his throat, the sound of Colby talking into his phone bouncing off of the small walls.

“Can I hold you? Is that alright?”

You nodded, murmuring an agreement. You weren’t sure what to expect, your cheeks beginning to turn bright pink. Chris’s hands strayed from your face, much to your dismay. He gently guided your hand to release the railing, sliding in behind you. Your back was pressed to his chest, his slender arms wrapped around your waist. “If you need to grab something, grab me. Don’t hurt yourself,” Chris mumbled. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his touch comforting. You felt tense for a moment, having a stranger so close to you. You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself as you decided to focus on Colby.

The brunette finally turned around. “I managed to call Sam. They’re looking into the elevator but they don’t know when it’s gonna be fixed,” Colby sighed. You tried to refrain from looking scared, ultimately failing as Colby walked over to you. “Hey it’s okay. What can we do to distract you?” He asked. Noting you were comfortable with Chris touching you he cupped your face, looking down at you with concern. Your mind was swarming with a thousand thoughts, ones of fear, terror, more fear, more terror. But you then remembered why you were there in the first place: Tara fucking Yummy.

And what would Tara fucking Yummy do if she was trapped in an elevator with two insanely hot guys?

“Kiss me,” You whispered. Chris turned his head to look at you, brushing your hair away from your shoulder. Colby’s eyes widened, as if he didn’t believe he heard you correctly.

“What?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

Colby slowly leaned down, his lips almost touching yours. His eyes flickered to yours for reassurance, before flickering back down to your lips. He closed the gap between you, pressing himself against you. Colby Brock tasted sweeter than you expected him to, the faintest taste of oranges crossing your tastebuds. You involuntarily bucked your hips between the two boys, your ass rubbing against Chris’s shaft. He took the hint, peppering kisses from your shoulder to your collarbone. You softly groaned in Colby’s mouth, grabbing handfuls of his shirt.

You briefly pulled away, heat rushing to your cheeks as you met Colby’s gaze. “Oh my God i’m so sorry I don’t know what came over me. I-” You began rambling, unable to stop the words from spilling out. Colby gently grabbed your chin, guiding you to turn your head. Chris’s lips eagerly met yours, his kisses much rougher than Colby’s. You melted into the kiss, Chris’s hips grinding against you from behind. Colby’s hands grabbed your waist, his body against yours. They felt intoxicating, Colby’s lips placing open mouth kisses on your neck.

“Just tell us if you want us to stop,” Colby told you, kissing you up to your ear. He began nibbling on your ear lobe, one of your hands entangling itself in his hair. Chris pulled away from your lips, admiring how swollen they were. “We just wanna make you feel good ma,” Chris purred. His hands slid down to the hem of your short dress, his fingertips barely grazing your skin. You moaned as Colby resumed his assault on your neck, sucking at your sweet spot.

“May I?” Chris asked, his breath hot against your ear. You whimpered as Colby released your neck with a pop, your body quivering with desire. “Fucking please,” You whined. You could feel Chris’s hard cock from behind you, poking you. He slowly pulled up your dress, just enough to where your panties were exposed. Colby admired the view, smirking. “Never thought an angel like you would be wearing something like this,” He teased, stretching the band of your black lacey thong. He released it, the material snapping against your skin.

You felt like you could melt any moment, your body on fire. You were engulfed in the flames the boys had surrounded you with and you loved every second of it. “Can we play with you baby?” Colby asked, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. You nodded eagerly, awaiting them to touch you where you desired. One of Chris’s hands slithered up to your neck from behind, tenderly squeezing your throat before releasing. “Words ma,” He purred, noticing how eagerly your hips buckled with his hand on your throat.

“Please, touch me,” You whimpered. Chris grinned into your neck as he pushed your thong to the side, rubbing slow circles around your clit. “Fucking shit,” You moaned, tilting your head back. Colby smirked at your reaction, running two fingers down your remaining slick. “So wet for us, what a good girl,” He mused, slowly pushing two fingers inside of you. Colby bit his bottom lip as your walls squeezed his digits, your body melting in between the boys like butter. Chris drew faster circles around your clit, helping you adjust.

“Doing such a good job ma,” Chris praised, relishing in the sound of your sinful noises as Colby curled his fingers. Colby couldn’t help but think of you as angelic, your walls milking his fingers and moans sounding like holy water. He began curling his fingers faster, watching as you gripped onto Chris for support. “Fuck, feels so good, Colby, Chris, fuck,” You moaned, gripping onto Chris like your life depended on it. His fingers were abusing your g spot, Chris’s circles only getting faster by the minute.

Colby grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Look at me, look at me as you fall apart on my fingers,” He ordered. He could feel your walls tighten at his words, a smirk creeping across his lips as you forced yourself to maintain eye contact with him. Chris’s hand on your throat came back to life, squeezing your airway. “Dont forget about me ma, you’re so filthy, letting two strangers play with you like this,” Chris said, his hips grinding against your ass as you stood in front of him.

Colby brought his lips to yours, swallowing your moans of the boys names as your legs began to tremble. You could feel the cord inside of you tighten, your body almost to the delightful edge you needed. “Awe did we make your thighs shake? You poor thing,” Chris teased, placing sloppy open mouthed kisses to your neck. You were sure your neck was going to be covered in hickies, ones you were going to have to explain later. But right now? All you could focus on were the thick fingers buried into your cunt and the friction being provided to your clit.

You playfully bit Colby’s bottom lip, releasing it with an involuntary moan. “Fuck i’m so so so close,” You panted, Chris’s grip on your throat tightening. You were seeing stars, the restriction of your airway only bringing you closer to your orgasm. “Go on, don’t be shy. Cum for us,” Colby encouraged, his blue eyes keeping intense eye contact with yours. You squeezed Chris’s wrist, leaning onto him for support. “You heard him. Cum,” Chris agreed. Their permission was all you needed, Colby’s eager lips swallowing your sinful moans as you came around his fingers.

You were seeing stars, euphoria washing over you. Chris was quick to release your throat, helping Colby hold you upright. You leaned your head against Colby’s shoulder, attempting to catch your breath. You were on cloud nine, your body craving more of the two men you were in between. “That was-” You began, the movement of the elevator cutting you off. The three of you jumped, Colby’s fingers quick to exit your cunt. Chris pulled down your dress, the boys quick to attempt to make you look decent.

Disappointment ensued as the three of you disbursed, awkwardly standing on opposite sides of the elevator once again. You took shaky breaths, clearing your throat as the elevator doors finally opened. Relief washed over Sam Golbach’s face as the doors opened, his face immediately lighting up. “Holy shit dude! We were so worried!” He said, going to hug Colby. Nick and Tara weren’t far behind, Tara giving you a big hug. “You need to call me if that shit happens again, I know the owners of this building. I can personally give them hell,” She told you. You nodded, your face flushed pink.

Tara looked at Colby and Chris, noticing your odd expression.

“Hey is she okay?”

“Yeah I think what just happened took her breath away.”

You shot Chris a warning look, before looking at Colby. “I’ll uh, see you guys later?” You asked cautiously. Chris shifted awkwardly, pulling his hoodie down to cover his raging boner. “The nights still young party girl, why don’t you come see us in the red lounge after you find the restroom you were looking for?” Colby suggested. Tara linked her arm with yours, beginning to talk away at a hundred miles per hour. She was leading you to the restroom, the one you were supposed to be hiding in to begin with. You looked over your shoulder, Colby shooting you a playful smile and Chris subtly winking at you.

You pretended to listen to Tara’s story, only one thought on your mind. You had to get to the red lounge. You needed Chris and Colby, no matter what it took. As you dipped into the restroom after Tara, you knew exactly what you needed to do.

#colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #colby brock x reader #colby brock smut #colby brock #sam and colby #sam and colby smut #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo

224 notes · View notes

cherrifire · 8 months

Note

Hello this is probably super random but I’m personally curious on how to start working with content creators like people from the traffic life serries? Like specifically with YouTube video thumbnails. I really think it would be a good thing to try out and I feel confident in my skills to do it.

I'm unfortunately not going to be much help since I don't usually find work, work finds me. I don't even have my commissions page public yet and CCs keep showing up in my dms like "heyyyy 🥰"

I think the only time I specifically reached out to a creator was Rendog. He said something on stream about wanting to find an emote artist. Told stream to send artists to him on Twitter. So I decided to shoot my shot and sent him a message basically saying "Hey Ren, I heard you were looking for an artist! Here are some examples of my emote work, hope to hear from you soon <3" and it worked!

I guess in the case of Spiff and Martyn (who both just showed up one day), keep a steady social media. Regularly post art and keep up with the creators you like. If they see your work and they like it, they WILL do something about it. This doesn't always work of course and is not a genuine suggestion to find work, but this is how it happened for me.

The better advice I can give is in the case of Ren. Keep an eye out for opportunities and ALWAYS try to take them. The worst they can do is say no. So there is no harm in trying. When Creators want to commission an artist, they will sometimes go to the community to ask for suggestions. Tweets like "looking for an artist with ___ style, reply with examples or artists you think are good ^-^" are fairly common.

ALSO! This is going to sound so cliche, but take any job you can and PRACTICE. I MEAN IT MAN.

Reason 1: I started working for Grian because he saw my work through Martyn. Plus, Grian isn't the only one to find me this way.

Reason 2: Improvement is real and WILL get you.

As proof, here's my first and super ugly thumbnail from a year ago (don't be fooled by the high view count, the other videos around it had views in the millions. So this thumbnail did not help):

And here's my newest thumbnail:

Hope this helps at least a little. Sorry I can't say much else. Things just keep happening to me and I didn't do much to get there.

#cherri.speaks

586 notes · View notes

moiraimyths · 2 months

Text

Howdy, fateful friends! Are you an artist or illustrator with an interest in visual novels?

If so: Moirai Myths, creators of the visual novel The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe), are in need of guest artists! More specifically, we're looking for up to two artists to help us with the content graphics ("CGs") for Maeve and Shae's upcoming routes. All of the details will be listed on our application form (linked below), but here is the gist:

This is paid work with 20-30 business day deadlines per piece!

Complicated revisions in the post-sketch phase are compensated!

You will be prioritized for future guest artist opportunities!

You will be featured/credited on Moirai Myths' website and in the game itself!

Sound interesting? If so, apply here:

Click under the cut for some F&Q 👇

Who are you? (I'm new here!)

Hi! We're Moirai Myths: a small, newish visual novel company based out of Canada. We're making a game inspired by mostly Irish mythology, which was funded on Kickstarter in 2023! Our game's got fairy politics, a diverse cast, a Gaeilge-to-English translation tool, and routes that can be played either romantically or platonically! Also horses. An ungodly amount of horses, really.

If that odd pitch sounded intriguing, perhaps you'd like to play our demo! It's free on Steam & Itch.io.

Why are you looking for guest artists?

When we originally launched our Kickstarter, the plan was to have our three in-house artists collaborate on the CGs in the same way our header image was. However, we quickly realized that adding CGs, even if they're done collaboratively, onto the existing duties of our artists was a tall order. Add to that the departure of our original sprite artist (who has since been replaced by our graphic designer), and we determined that having our in-house team work on CGs was simply not possible if we still wanted our first release to happen in 2024. So, rather than omitting CGs or adding them in at a later time, we came up with the idea of hiring guest artists. Overall this means our CGs will be a bit more varied in terms of art style, but we like to think of this as a positive! NDM's development will take a number of years to complete in full, so we hope our CGs will allow us to feature a lot of artists either within the VN/indie dev community already, or artists who aspire to work in gaming and are looking for entry positions.

How long will applications remain open for?

This application will be open until Sunday, March 24 at midnight (EST)! If we intend to extend past that deadline, we'll make an announcement about it.

I can't apply right now. Will you look for more CG guest artists in the future?

Definitely! As mentioned, NDM will take a while to develop in full, so this is by no means your only opportunity to apply. That being said, we suspect we're going to end up shortlisting a number of artists over the course of this application period, and we intend to keep a list of all the runners-up. So, even if you won't be able to participate this time, it might be a good idea to apply anyway just to remain in our contacts! Either way, this will not be the last time we have apps.

Will you be looking for guest artists outside of CGs?

Maybe! We already have two guest artists (Nefukurou and Madi Funk) working on sprites and CGs respectively, so it's always possible that we'll have other artistic needs later down the line. Likewise, we may also reach out to past guest artists for future work with us, whether it's on this game or something else!

You say we need to sign an NDA. What does that entail?

The non-disclosure agreement essentially means you will be legally unable to publicly disclose any confidential information you become privy to as a result of working with us. This would include personal information about the developers, as well as spoilers from the game itself. In addition do this, you will be expected to sign over the IP and copyright of any artworks you produce for us.

Can I still use my artworks in portfolios, even if I don't own the copyright?

Yes! We'd only ask, if your portfolio is a website, that you wait to do so until after your art has been made public by us, either on our social media or via the publication of the game. Our first release is anticipated to happen later this year, most likely mid-autumn.

How do you guys feel about AI? Do you intend to use it, or would you ever train an AI off of the artworks whose copyright you own?

No.

Making a game is expensive and time-consuming, but AI is no replacement for human artistry. We fundamentally believe that any advancements in AI should be used for the purpose of giving people more time to make art, not take away opportunities for it. Moirai Myths will never, ever use AI or train an AI off your work.

***

If you've got any more questions for us that we didn't think to include here, feel free to send us an ask!

#the good people #na daoine maithe #ndm #visual novel #interactive fiction #otome #english otome #amare #amare game #visual story #visual storytelling #romance game #otome romance #romance visual novel #dating game #dating sim #moirai myths

188 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

Text

Better failure for social media

Content moderation is fundamentally about making social media work better, but there are two other considerations that determine how social media fails: end-to-end (E2E), and freedom of exit. These are much neglected, and that’s a pity, because how a system fails is every bit as important as how it works.

Of course, commercial social media sites don’t want to be good, they want to be profitable. The unique dynamics of social media allow the companies to uncouple quality from profit, and more’s the pity.

Social media grows thanks to network effects — you join Twitter to hang out with the people who are there, and then other people join to hang out with you. The more users Twitter accumulates, the more users it can accumulate. But social media sites stay big thanks to high switching costs: the more you have to give up to leave a social media site, the harder it is to go:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

Nature bequeaths some in-built switching costs on social media, primarily the coordination problem of reaching consensus on where you and the people in your community should go next. The more friends you share a social media platform with, the higher these costs are. If you’ve ever tried to get ten friends to agree on where to go for dinner, you know how this works. Now imagine trying to get all your friends to agree on where to go for dinner, for the rest of their lives!

But these costs aren’t insurmountable. Network effects, after all, are a double-edged sword. Some users are above-average draws for others, and if a critical mass of these important nodes in the network map depart for a new service — like, say, Mastodon — that service becomes the presumptive successor to the existing giants.

When that happens — when Mastodon becomes “the place we’ll all go when Twitter finally becomes unbearable” — the downsides of network effects kick in and the double-edged sword begins to carve away at a service’s user-base. It’s one thing to argue about which restaurant we should go to tonight, it’s another to ask whether we should join our friends at the new restaurant where they’re already eating.

Social media sites who want to keep their users’ business walk a fine line: they can simply treat those users well, showing them the things they ask to see, not spying on them, paying to police their service to reduce harassment, etc. But these are costly choices: if you show users the things they ask to see, you can’t charge businesses to show them things they don’t want to see. If you don’t spy on users, you can’t sell targeting services to people who want to force them to look at things they’re uninterested in. Every moderator you pay to reduce harassment draws a salary at the expense of your shareholders, and every catastrophe that moderator prevents is a catastrophe you can’t turn into monetizable attention as gawking users flock to it.

So social media sites are always trying to optimize their mistreatment of users, mistreating them (and thus profiting from them) right up to the point where they are ready to switch, but without actually pushing them over the edge.

One way to keep dissatisfied users from leaving is by extracting a penalty from them for their disloyalty. You can lock in their data, their social relationships, or, if they’re “creators” (and disproportionately likely to be key network nodes whose defection to a rival triggers mass departures from their fans), you can take their audiences hostage.

The dominant social media firms all practice a low-grade, tacit form of hostage-taking. Facebook downranks content that links to other sites on the internet. Instagram prohibits links in posts, limiting creators to “Links in bio.” Tiktok doesn’t even allow links. All of this serves as a brake on high-follower users who seek to migrate their audiences to better platforms.

But these strategies are unstable. When a platform becomes worse for users (say, because it mandates nonconsensual surveillance and ramps up advertising), they may actively seek out other places on which to follow each other, and the creators they enjoy. When a rival platform emerges as the presumptive successor to an incumbent, users no longer face the friction of knowing which rival they should resettle to.

When platforms’ enshittification strategies overshoot this way, users flee in droves, and then it’s time for the desperate platform managers to abandon the pretense of providing a public square. Yesterday, Elon Musk’s Twitter rolled out a policy prohibiting users from posting links to rival platforms:

https://web.archive.org/web/20221218173806/https://help.twitter.com/en/rules-and-policies/social-platforms-policy

This policy was explicitly aimed at preventing users from telling each other where they could be found after they leave Twitter:

https://web.archive.org/web/20221219015355/https://twitter.com/TwitterSupport/status/1604531261791522817

This, in turn, was a response to many users posting regular messages explaining why they were leaving Twitter and how they could be found on other platforms. In particular, Twitter management was concerned with departures by high-follower users like Taylor Lorenz, who was retroactively punished for violating the policy, though it didn’t exist when she violated it:

https://deadline.com/2022/12/washington-post-journalist-taylor-lorenz-suspended-twitter-1235202034/

As Elon Musk wrote last spring: “The acid test for two competing socioeconomic systems is which side needs to build a wall to keep people from escaping? That’s the bad one!”

https://twitter.com/elonmusk/status/1533616384747442176

This isn’t particularly insightful. It’s obvious that any system that requires high walls and punishments to stay in business isn’t serving its users, whose presence is attributable to coercion, not fulfillment. Of course, the people who operate these systems have all manner of rationalizations for them.

The Berlin Wall, we were told, wasn’t there to keep East Germans in — rather, it was there to keep the teeming hordes clamoring to live in the workers’ paradise out. In the same way, platforms will claim that they’re not blocking outlinks or sideloading because they want to prevent users from defecting to a competitor, but rather, to protect those users from external threats.

This rationalization quickly wears thin, and then new ones step in. For example, you might claim that telling your friends that you’re leaving and asking them to meet you elsewhere is like “giv[ing] a talk for a corporation [and] promot[ing] other corporations”:

https://mobile.twitter.com/mayemusk/status/1604550452447690752

Or you might claim that it’s like “running Wendy’s ads [on] McDonalds property,” rather than turning to your friends and saying, “The food at McDonalds sucks, let’s go eat at Wendy’s instead”:

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1604559316237037568

The truth is that any service that won’t let you leave isn’t in the business of serving you, it’s in the business of harming you. The only reason to build a wall around your service — to impose any switching costs on users- is so that you can fuck them over without risking their departure.

The platforms want to be Anatevka, and we the villagers of Fiddler On the Roof, stuck plodding the muddy, Cossack-haunted roads by the threat of losing all our friends if we try to leave:

https://doctorow.medium.com/how-to-leave-dying-social-media-platforms-9fc550fe5abf

That’s where freedom of exit comes in. The public should have the right to leave, and companies should not be permitted to make that departure burdensome. Any burdens we permit companies to impose is an invitation to abuse of their users.

This is why governments are handing down new interoperability mandates: the EU’s Digital Markets Act forces the largest companies to offer APIs so that smaller rivals can plug into them and let users walkaway from Big Tech into new kinds of platforms — small businesses, co-ops, nonprofits, hobby sites — that treat them better. These small players are overwhelmingly part of the fediverse: the federated social media sites that allow users to connect to one another irrespective of which server or service they use.

The creators of these platforms have pledged themselves to freedom of exit. Mastodon ships with a “Move Followers” and “Move Following” feature that lets you quit one server and set up shop on another, without losing any of the accounts you follow or the accounts that follow you:

https://codingitwrong.com/2022/10/10/migrating-a-mastodon-account.html

This feature is as yet obscure, because the exodus to Mastodon is still young. Users who flocked to servers without knowing much about their managers have, by and large, not yet run into problems with the site operators. The early trickle of horror stories about petty authoritarianism from Mastodon sysops conspicuously fail to mention that if the management of a particular instance turns tyrant, you can click two links, export your whole social graph, sign up for a rival, click two more links and be back at it.

This feature will become more prominent, because there is nothing about running a Mastodon server that means that you are good at running a Mastodon server. Elon Musk isn’t an evil genius — he’s an ordinary mediocrity who lucked into a lot of power and very little accountability. Some Mastodon operators will have Musk-like tendencies that they will unleash on their users, and the difference will be that those users can click two links and move elsewhere. Bye-eee!

Freedom of exit isn’t just a matter of the human right of movement, it’s also a labor issue. Online creators constitute a serious draw for social media services. All things being equal, these services would rather coerce creators’ participation — by holding their audiences hostage — than persuade creators to remain by offering them an honest chance to ply their trade.

Platforms have a variety of strategies for chaining creators to their services: in addition to making it harder for creators to coordinate with their audiences in a mass departure, platforms can use DRM, as Audible does, to prevent creators’ customers from moving the media they purchase to a rival’s app or player.

Then there’s “freedom of reach”: platforms routinely and deceptively conflate recommending a creator’s work with showing that creator’s work to the people who explicitly asked to see it.

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

When you follow or subscribe to a feed, that is not a “signal” to be mixed into the recommendation system. It’s an order: “Show me this.” Not “Show me things like this.”

Show.

Me.

This.

But there’s no money in showing people the things they tell you they want to see. If Amazon showed shoppers the products they searched for, they couldn’t earn $31b/year on an “ad business” that fills the first six screens of results with rival products who’ve paid to be displayed over the product you’re seeking:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

If Spotify played you the albums you searched for, it couldn’t redirect you to playlists artists have to shell out payola to be included on:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/12/streaming-doesnt-pay/#stunt-publishing

And if you only see what you ask for, then product managers whose KPI is whether they entice you to “discover” something else won’t get a bonus every time you fatfinger a part of your screen that navigates you away from the thing you specifically requested:

https://doctorow.medium.com/the-fatfinger-economy-7c7b3b54925c

Musk, meanwhile, has announced that you won’t see messages from the people you follow unless they pay for Twitter Blue:

https://www.wired.com/story/what-is-twitter-blue/

And also that you will be nonconsensually opted into seeing more “recommended” content from people you don’t follow (but who can be extorted out of payola for the privilege):

https://www.socialmediatoday.com/news/Twitter-Expands-Content-Recommendations/637697/

Musk sees Twitter as a publisher, not a social media site:

https://twitter.com/elonmusk/status/1604588904828600320

Which is why he’s so indifferent to the collateral damage from this payola/hostage scam. Yes, Twitter is a place where famous and semi-famous people talk to their audiences, but it is primarily a place where those audiences talk to each other — that is, a public square.

This is the Facebook death-spiral: charging to people to follow to reach you, and burying the things they say in a torrent of payola-funded spam. It’s the vision of someone who thinks of other people as things to use — to pump up your share price or market your goods to — not worthy of consideration.

As Terry Pratchett’s Granny Weatherwax put it: “Sin is when you treat people like things. Including yourself. That’s what sin is.”

Mastodon isn’t perfect, but its flaws are neither fatal nor permanent. The idea that centralized media is “easier” surely reflects the hundreds of billions of dollars that have been pumped into refining social media Roach Motels (“users check in, but they don’t check out”).

Until a comparable sum has been spent refining decentralized, federated services, any claims about the impossibility of making the fediverse work for mass audiences should be treated as unfalsifiable, motivated reasoning.

Meanwhile, Mastodon has gotten two things right that no other social media giant has even seriously attempted:

I. If you follow someone on Mastodon, you’ll see everything they post; and

II. If you leave a Mastodon server, you can take both your followers and the people you follow with you.

The most common criticism of Mastodon is that you must rely on individual moderators who may be underresourced, incompetent on malicious. This is indeed a serious problem, but it isn’t the same serious problem that Twitter has. When Twitter is incompetent, malicious, or underresourced, your departure comes at a dear price.

On Mastodon, your choice is: tolerate bad moderation, or click two links and move somewhere else.

On Twitter, your choice is: tolerate moderation, or lose contact with all the people you care about and all the people who care about you.

The interoperability mandates in the Digital Markets Act (and in the US ACCESS Act, which seems unlikely to get a vote in this session of Congress) only force the largest platforms to open up, but Mastodon shows us the utility of interop for smaller services, too.

There are lots of domains in which “dominance” shouldn’t be the sole criteria for whether you are expected to treat your customers fairly.

A doctor with a small practice who leaks all ten patients’ data harms those patients as surely as a hospital system with a million patients would have. A small-time wedding photographer who refuses to turn over your pictures unless you pay a surprise bill is every bit as harmful to you as a giant chain that has the same practice.

As we move into the realm of smalltime, community-oriented social media servers, we should be looking to avoid the pitfalls of the social media bubble that’s bursting around us. No matter what the size of the service, let’s ensure that it lets us leave, and respects the end-to-end principle, that any two people who want to talk to each other should be allowed to do so, without interference from the people who operate their communications infrastructure.

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

Heisenberg Media (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Elon_Musk_-_The_Summit_2013.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[Image ID: Moses confronting the Pharaoh, demanding that he release the Hebrews. Pharaoh’s face has been replaced with Elon Musk’s. Moses holds a Twitter logo in his outstretched hand. The faces embossed in the columns of Pharaoh’s audience hall have been replaced with the menacing red eye of HAL9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey. The wall over Pharaoh’s head has been replaced with a Matrix ‘code waterfall’ effect. Moses’s head has been replaced with that of the Mastodon mascot.]

#pluralistic #e2e #end-to-end #freedom of reach #mastodon #interoperability #social media #twitter #economy #creator economy #artists rights #content moderation #como #right of exodus #let my tweeters go #exodus #right of exit #technological self-determination

3K notes · View notes

psychelis-new · 4 months

Text

pick a pile: "How people view you through your (main) social media account?"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to find out what people may think of you or how they may perceive you from what they see of you (what you allow them to see of you and your life) on your most used/most followed social media account. thank you Anon for your suggestion!

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

1 2 3

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

People see you as someone private/reserved. You may be sharing photos or words if something really happens and you really feel like sharing about it but even more... when you remember. You may not be that social (at least online in specific contexts). Or maybe you don't have too much time to spend online for fun and you rather just scroll through your feed and enjoy random stuff (art, videos, photos especially by famous creators/memes or such. You rather be entertained than entertain). You may filter what you post/say or you literally add different filters on or edit your photos/videos a lot... Anyway the result is pretty pleasing to the eye, maybe you follow a certain pattern in your posts (aesthetically, so you cannot always post pictures if they don't resonate with the whole page).

It seems you kinda hide part of yourself or what you do, it feels like you're mysterious/there's more about you; but you don't have to do it (=be this reserved/mysterious) on purpose, it may just be your way to behave online. As said you may just post occasionally also cause you may not like social medias that much or feel too comfortable with them (maybe you don't enjoy the drama around them, the people lurking on you or you don't want to really be seen/found by too many people; some of you may fear your account being found by someone you don't want to discover you or you had bad experiences with someone stalking you and now you're trying to act differently online and use a more-difficult-to-be-recognized nickname and persona). Maybe some of you created an account somewhere just to try how it works or what can happen. You more likely have a specific social media you like and feel good at using and sharing stuff on, while you may not like many others (let's say you feel good on tumblr but not on insta/fb/tiktok/x..., for example). Some of you may even have a private account you made viewable basically only to friends. Wait... maybe you're the one lurking on others (at least to an extent)? If it's so, all I'm gonna say now is: please try to work on your demons before bringing them out on others.

song: i see red | everybody loves an outlaw

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 2

I heard "break the internet". So maybe you're some type of internet famous (every post reaches lot of public and gets interactions easily) or you may actually use socials for marketing or work in communication/advertising or something like that. Maybe you are in charge for someone's/some associations' feed or like a shop or something. Anyway, you seem to share good vibes and bring support and encouragement to others. You may share your values (or those the brand you work for represents) too, not just what you do for fun or how to make the best of what you have. And you may have created a large public/community around you, even if you don't know. People do see you as inspiring and really like to know about you or hear from you. You may bring comfort and relief, make them feel special and heard/seen. I don't feel like you have many haters or if you do, they don't seem to be too communicative about their feelings: maybe they also fear you or something. Maybe you also don't care much about them: well done! For a few: you'd like to become famous online and trying to go viral anytime you can or you'd like to work with social medias (even as a social media manager).

We all know social medias have particular rules and in order to make it you need to keep in mind different aspects of your communication, schedule things in advance when possible and be constant (ofc there may be a lucky post, but it needs to be supported by others). But anyway, you kinda have "it"? It seems you have good ideas, you're fun, you give entertainment and many different occasions for interactions with your public: this helps your image/work spread around. You may have a good amount of followers/public waiting for your next post, you may also be good at creating the right hype about it. And ofc, you're good also at what you do, like the main subject of your feed: eg. let's say you're a photographer, you're pretty talented at taking photos; same if you're an astrologer, you're very good at reading charts. But you're also good at how you communicate/share about yourself when you aren't posting about your specific "field". If you're not there yet, I think you mostly need to work on the boring part of this, like learning how to work properly on each platform as all of them have their own rules. It can be really really boring, but if you have the passion and will, and you're ready to say goodbye to holidays for a while... it's worth it. This is also why it's important that you find what works for you.

Ofc, remind yourself of yourself. You're important, you have needs and... it's good to show them to others too. You may at times not share about your lows, and keep them for yourself, but they're part of life as well. You won't lose followers if you do this. I think they'd appreciate you even more. And... having lot of followers won't make your loneliness better. Sure they seem to care about you but, not everyone can stay through ups and downs, they're there mostly for what you give them (find your balance here). Just needed to remind some of you about this. Keep working on yourself, while you also enjoy your time online. Try to not make of it another reason of stress, go with the flow.

song: they don't really know | enbound

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 3

I think people see you as very pretty and young. You may seem naive on occasion, kinda childish-like but not in a negative way. People thinks you're cute mostly. I get very feminine and young energy here, no matter what is your gender (if you recognize yourself in any). You may also be a nostalgic person and may like to share events/things from the past, maybe you also like to take photos with polaroids or analog cameras or you add a pretty nostalgic filter/editing to your photos. You may also share inside jokes with your friends or family on social medias.

I think you may have not been that much into social medias at first or you weren't good at using them well, but now you're enjoying them more. You use them mostly to keep in touch with friends, share about your parties/nights out or travels, and every funny event you may happen to be around/join. You may like to post photos/videos taken with your friends indeed. You may end up occasionally posting the wrong stuff by accident like you may share on public some photos you should keep on private and similar but all in all people see you as a funny character. Maybe a little clumsy, but very much pretty and cute. You may also use social medias to too keep yourself updated about celebrities and to gossip with your friends too. I feel like you may be using eg. insta and share pics of your travels, of gifts, shopping/spa days with friends and maybe pics of yourself in beautiful places all taken by your friends. Or maybe by your partner. I get more likely a group of at least 3-4 people tbh but ofc I could be wrong, and it could also be family. I feel some influencer-style vibes here. Kinda aesthetic posts, but more in the sense of the vibe you give through them. Again like, lot of fun and interesting stuff going on in your life. An... autumn-core (does this exist?), cottagecore, travelcore, studycore, whatever brownish-pastels-core you feel like may pertain. Yeah you may be sharing a lot also about your studies those very aesthetically pleasing well written notes or images of you drinking coffee in front of a computer. Since I feel a young energy it may resonate with you still being a student or at the initial stages of a job but ofc it doesn't have to. You may also be studying abroad hence why you share a lot about travels and try to keep in touch with family/friends also through socials and the nostalgic vibe I got in the beginning.

song: don't cry | guns'n'roses (I hope you're really not crying darling... unless you need to ofc)

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a card tarot #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a card #divination #clairs readings #psychic readings #social medias #tarot readings #intuitive readings #tarotblr #tarot readers #tarotcommunity

348 notes · View notes