#I just. I just really hate magical healing sex when it’s like. when it’s a story that tackles someone taking the first steps to healing

[trashbatistrash]

,

[fillinforlater]

Phone Part 10: Return of the Angel +3

Male Reader x Kim Minju, Yeh Shuhua, Jung Eunbi (Eunha), Hwang Eunbi (SinB)

Length: 1550 words

Tags: strap-ons, lesbian sex, spitroasting, double penetration, overstimulation, loveless sex, voyeurism, watching, fingering thigh riding

TW: messy crazy bs

(A/N: this series randomly returns because I just needed to get this idea out of my system for good. This might be the conclusion to it, but probably not... well, maybe you send me some ideas to where this could lead up to.)

"I'll get going."

Bomi kisses your cheek, that sore cheek, sore like every patch of your skin, every bone in your body and every damn muscle, some of them you didn't even know could hurt before today. Hell, you don't even have the strength to give Bomi a proper goodbye, a weak wave is all you can muster up.

She'll not be mad at you. For what might have been either 15 or 150 minutes, you have taken turns on her and Shuhua's pussy—licking, fingering, fucking them until those tight caverns each got a big load in them. In the meantime, Minju has been their plaything. Especially Shuhua has this cruelty towards her "friend", edging her with fingers, reddening her thighs with extremely hard slaps and always promising that she'll get your cock—just to claim you with her pussy again.

You turn around when Bomi closes the door. Shuhua and Minju wrestle on the couch, the latter clearly outmatched when Shuhua puts her in a headlock with her thunder thighs. Minju tries to escape with licks on Shuhua's clit but can't find it—the nightmare of so many guys.

"Cut it out, you two," you groan, fingers on your temple. 

"N-no," Minju whines. "Minju still needs cock, wants cum in her tummy!"

"I can't." Point at your limp dick, absolutely spent. "And I have a headache. At this point, I’ll start to hate sex. Fucking hell, I'll make myself tea."

"Oh, I have an idea," Shuhua smirks and reaches for her phone while you leave for the kitchen. Whatever it is, you don’t want to deal with it. You need something relaxing, something herbal, to heal all the soreness in your body. It’s incredible to think that there is something like too much sex. You’re really close to giving up on it, even though two nymphomaniacs have turned your house into sex hub.

“No, no, stay down. You’ll get cock soon,” you hear Shuhua belittle Minju, who just whines in her usual tone. She seems to not be a bit tired after all this.

“Well, it won’t be mine,” you shout back, watching the hot water fill your cup and turn the leaves into something magical.

“Yeah, I know, you’re basically useless at this point.” Ouch, that stings. “That’s why I called back up.”

“You what?!”

“They should be here any minute now.”

Shuhua is spot on. Before your tea is finished steeping, your door bursts open. But instead of a hung man, two rather petite women enter your house. Both have a bored look on their face and immediately get to undressing. Overcoats seem to be the shit right now, and no matter who comes through your front door, they always drop it on the floor. 

“Uhm, hello?” you carefully greet them before remembering that this is your home, your kingdom! You can’t let strangers just walk in like they own the place. “This is kinda rude, you know?”

“Don’t care,” says the taller one with long, raven hair, dressed only in jeans. “We have business to do. Also, it’s rude to just stand there, naked, while two ladies walk in.” You blush and hide your crotch with the tea cup.

“We aren’t ladies, stop kidding yourself,” the other snarks back, while climbing out of her skirt. “I bet he is a good fuck, you shouldn’t kill your chances already.”

“Eh, I’ll think about it, but first—” Both girls suddenly pull out two strap-ons from God-knows-where and put them on with the casualness one would wear a fricking hat. The taller one hasn’t even removed her jeans, wearing the harness over it, while the other is fully naked and flaunts her butt at you.

“Yeah, I know, we got shit to do.” The short haired girl slaps her butt and you almost drop the cup when she walks past you with a wink. “Shuhua, where is this needy bitch? Or are you the needy bitch?”

“Oh, it’s so nice to see you, Eunbi and Eunbi,” Shuhua greets them and points at Minju, still trapped in between her fat thighs. “Look who I found.”

“She is insatiable. Incredible that he can still stand,” the shorter Eunbi says.

“Hm, maybe he is a good fuck. Anyways, we’ll try our best to keep her down,” the taller Eunbi says. The three conspirators try to agree on a strategy on how to fuck the angelic girl. You’ve become invisible in your own house, your entry to the living room goes largely unnoticed. Except for Minju who pouts at you when the two Eunbis lift her up and put her in a doggy position. The shorter one is below her, the other is ready to press the plastic cock into Minju’s puckered hole.

"Should we do it at the—nevermind, you're already in." The small Eunbi groans in annoyance, the other looks unapologetic and starts to rut slowly against Minju's butt. The long shaft forcing open Minju’s hole, paired with the denim on her sore, pink buttocks, must feel incredible and incredibly painful at the same time. Who knows which of the two makes Minju wail and moan more.

"Come on, Eunha, shove it in her sex," Shuhua urges on the Eunbi below as she excitedly stares at the unholy sight of fake cocks on ready holes. Her eyes mimic the camera lens for a porn shoot, while you're the director, watching the scene play out. Either way, it's good content.

"Minju's pussy, Minju's ass, so full!" Minju is loud, louder than before. Shuhua is having none of it.

"Shut up. SinB, make her stay quiet. And don't let her cum."

Two hands move to cover Minju's mouth, two cocks move in and out at a rapid pace, two sets of eyes watch on in awe. Satisfied with what crazy madness she has come up with, Shuhua sits down next to you and lazily jerks your cock with two fingers. Oh, that victorious smile, glassy, lewd eyes, you'd love to wipe it off her face.

"You like what you see? Now you don't have to do anything anymore."

"What was that about me being useless?" Grab her by the throat and spit in her face. She looks pissed, you love it. "I came in you, even when Minju was willing to do anything to get my load and now you're still cruel to her? Seems mildly unfair."

"And what are you gonna do about it? Fuck her, if you can."

Shuhua is bratty, but just as much as she is bratty, she is also light. You easily place her nude frame on your thigh, her still dripping, creaming heat right on your skin. She hisses and you tighten your grip on her throat.

"I'm going to make you cum—you know I can, it's super easy—but only if you tell those two friends of yours to make Minju cum until she passes out.”

“Fuck, bastard,” Shuhua hisses. With your thumb on her clit, this is easily the quietest and tamest she has been for hours. Her body twitches, an honest reaction to how much she is addicted to the mind-blowing orgasms you can get out of her. Such a small finger, yet she is squirming, contemplating, faltering.

“Those two are so cruel,” you tell Shuhua, nose deep in her greasy hair. “They fuck her so hard, just to pull out at the last moment. Why do you want to torture Minju so bad?”

“Be-because she needs to get to the-the point.”

“What point?”

“The point where sex is no fun. She can go forever. She will never stop, your—fuck—plan to make her p-pass out, useless.”

This explains a lot. The Angel is insatiable, her lust seems infinite, but Shuhua’s plan—won’t it make things worse? At some point, SinB and Eunha will have to stop and Minju will be more desperate than ever. She will wobble through the house, tackle you the second she sees you and will force your cock in her pussy no matter what. A true tragedy.

“Well, I don’t care,” you say and tug at one of Shuhua’s nipples, she bites her fingers. “You’ve been too greedy, time for her to—”

“Fuck, fine.

“SinB, don’t hold back. Eunha, suck her tits, overstimulate this bitch!”

“What?” the two ask in unison and disbelief.

“Do-don’t ask questions, please, just do it!”

The way the two purple plastic cocks move in and out of Minju with the sole goal of too much pleasure has you satisfied and in a new heat, your cock hardening slowly but surely. With an ever increasing rhythm, you move your thigh up and down and Shuhua starts to ride, her loudness increasing again. She is as close as Minju and it only takes SinB pulling those messed up oak strands, you to rub Shuhua’s clit, for them both to explode. 

You focus not on Shuhua shuddering, shaking on you, but at Minju’s expression. Her eyes jump wide, then tears shoot out and flow down, just to be blocked by SinB’s hands on her mouth. She’d be so loud, words messier than her hair would fill the room. After this peak, both collapse. Shuhua meets the floor, Minju falls on top of Eunha, who still thrusts, even spanks the Angel’s ass. 

You’re hard again. Where is this going to end?

[gimmemore75]

DNI: If you don't like NSFW, Orcs, mosters in general, ritual sex, blood, gore. You have been warned.

You are a short, cubby but curvy human cleric who travels with Morak. A 9 foot tall behemoth of an orc. He's a bit hairy with a belly but incredibly fit. His tusks, beard, and long ornate hair gives him a certain charm. Many people think orcs are dumb, but he often uses that to his advantage. He's so smart, that you just love to hear his deep rumbling voice go into deep explainations about random things. His eyes light up whenever he explains things and that makes your heart feel full. For someone as strong as him, why would he need you to travel with him, you had thought. Turns out being an orc attracts a whole lot of unwanted attraction. After defeating a hoard of monsters, I hear a loud thud behind me, finding him collapsed.

"Morak! Gods above, you're bleeding so much." You start to heal him but all it really does it only stops some of his bleeding. You grab herbs and a healing potion and see if that helps, but it does very little. Your eyes start to water, as you watch him take shallow breaths, his kind, intelligent green eyes look into your own and cups your face with a bloody hand.

"Hey tiny, don't cry. I'd hate to see the woman I love cry before I go." His rough voice grumbles. You can't take it anymore. There has to be something you can do. You look through your pack and find an old tattered book. It reeks of old magic, but it's probably what you need. You look through it and find what you're looking for, but you have to act fast. Gathering everything and setting up you hear his voice.

"Tiny...you don't have ta keep trying."

You look back at him, openly crying now. "No I do. I have to. I love you too much to let you die. You trust me right?"

Morak grunts in response but his eyes tells you everything you need to know. You kiss him softly, his blood mingling with your tears. "I'll heal you. It just might hurt at first." You light the rest of the candles, the symbol drawn in his blood and you begin to say the words as you undo his clothing. Careful as you pull down his pants not to hurt him much.

Morak looks down at you surprised, but exhausted from his injuries. You lock eyes with him as you chant and begin to stroke him, preparing him, until he's hard. His eyes are hazy from bloodloss, pain, and lust, but you never break contact. You disrobe showing him your body as you continue to say the words and make him watch as you prepare yourself to take him, pumping as many fingers as you can inside you until you're all good at wet. Taking some of his blood you use it as a lubricant, just as the spell dictates. You take a knife and cut your hand, stroking his hard member with it, lubricating him with your own blood. Then slowly, you lower yourself onto him, he large, stretching you, and you still have to chant. You do your best to take him all the as fast as you can, but it still takes time. You continue to watch him, his eyes look comcerned, but you try to reassure him as you sink the last bit of him into you.

You move, in time with the chant working up a rhythm as the words are now coming out of your mouth on their own. You can't stop now. You watch as you begin to see his lips move, his voice mingling with yours in the chant. The more you move and fuck him the stronger his voice sounds. Your eyes locked together, you can see him becoming more aware, the light that was dimming becoming brighter and it spurs you on. You're moaning and chanting as your hear his groans of pleasure mixed with the chant, his breathing sounding better. You can see some of his wounds healing right before your eyes when he suddenly grabs your hips and starts thrusting into you, the both of you chanting, the desire and lust in your voices mixed with the complete adoration and love when you looked into each others eyes fueled your coupling. He flips you onto your back, laying you in his blood as he begins to plow into you. It's intense, and wonderful, and too much and not enough. You can barely speak but the chant still goes. You have no control over it anymore, and neither does Morak. He speeds up, thrusting erratically chasing his release, the chant moving at his pace. You clench around him, practically screaming the chant as you both cum together. Silence. There's only the sound of your breathing as he leans into you before he kisses you deeply. He holds you to sit up with him, not wanting to pull out yet, plugging you up with his seed.

"Tiny....what did you do?" His voice rough and ragged. You take a moment before replying. "I tied your life to mine. It's ancient magic, but it was all I could think of. "

"Tiny, that kind of magic is dangerous, but without it, I'd be dead. By Orc code, I have to protect you until your end of days, but seeing as how our lives are now bound together, I'd do so regardless."

You smile up at him. "We should probably clean off and get out of here."

Morak holds you in place. "I don't think so Tiny. I kind of like seeing you covered in my blood. I think I'd like to enjoy you without the fear of dying." He dips dowm to kiss you before proceeding.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Colored Seams (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Synopsis: Cazador is dead and the Spawn were released to the Underdark. You and Astarion could not be happier in the days that follow in spite of the looming Netherbrain Threat. You decide to do both of your laundry when a tragedy occurs- you accidentally destroyed his blanket.

CW: Dead Dove, Panic attack symptoms, fluffy, suggestive content, no specific pronouns mentioned or character traits

Author Note: Nobody’s Fool and Floozy are going to be updated tomorrow :)

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated- thank you so much for reading 💜 pic is mine

Cazador is dead- well he’s been dead for a solid week now, but, with the nature of this adventure, that even feels like months ago.

Astarion sent the spawn to the Underdark, he remarked his grave, and his spirit seems lighter. He has a lot more pep in his step, jokes more easily, and he has been very, very into PDA. Lae’zel has even gone out of her way to remark on how affectionate he has been with you in public.

Astarion’s confidence in himself is still a work in progress, but it makes your heart sing to know that he is slowly beginning to heal and you promised, in spite of the lack of sun your future holds, that you will be by his side to support him every step of the way.

He’s been exceptionally physically affectionate- you are still sore from the last several days of him ‘indulging’ in his newfound freedom. The sheets are a mess, your clothes are a mess, his clothes are a mess, and you are not about to let either one of you go out in obviously sex stained clothing.

You had decided to wash yours and Astarion’s things while he begrudgingly helped Gale retrieve old tomes from Sorcerer Sundries- Rolan’s recent instatement has allowed for Gale to read just about every tomb in the massive magic shop.

Ever since everyone found out Astarion could use spider climb, they have been asking him for his help in various tasks- he charges everyone (minus you, of course).

Gale had actually dragged Astarion along because he is technically looking for a book on your behalf for Astarion. He doesn’t know, but you and Gale have already begun the search for a Ring of Sunwalking.

Astarion loves the sun so much and you want to be able to give it to him- you all do. You could not be more proud of him and you find you enjoy acts of services and gift giving when it comes to him. He has had so little for so long and no one was taking care of him or making him feel special. You are very thankful that you get to be the one who provides him with these experiences.

For now, you don’t have a gift so you are going to surprise him with clean clothes!

He usually does the laundry because you hate doing it (something he learned and just kinda picked up on). You told him he didn’t need to and you feel bad for being a nuisance, but he would just roll his eyes, kiss you, and saunter off in the direction of the wash tub or wait until you are asleep so you can’t fret about it.

Astarion is actually quite adorable in his laundry routine- he even has a bag specifically for laundry soaps and scents. The man is right- he really did miss his calling as a perfumer.

You started with both your clothes. You used herbs for scent, soap for cleanliness, and Halsin helped to dry them with Wind. You then moved onto your bed sheets.

However, you realize you made a horrific mistake after it’s far, far too late.

Astarion’s comfort blanket, his first and only item while under Cazador, was torn apart. It had gotten twisted inside the sheets and it already hadn’t been strong enough to begin with. You didn’t even know you threw it in with the rest! You would never do that on purpose! You know it has to be washed gently and carefully.

“Tav?”

You are crying, entirely unaware of the fact that Halsin is widely concerned as you stare in horror at the murder scene before you.

“I destroyed his blanket!” Your voice is strained and your eyes must look as crazy as you feel because Halsin is looking very concerned for you.

“I am sure he will under-“

You are hyperventilating- there is no rhyme or reason and it doesn’t seem to matter what Halsin says- your mind is spiraling a mile a minute into oblivion.

He is going to dump you- Gods he may even leave and that thought terrifies you more than anything else.

You feel your lungs collapse in your chest and you can’t breathe.

You just wanted to do something nice for him.

You rush back to your bed after a brief pit stop at your shared room (you were forced, Gale was tired of waking up to you and Astarion being ‘adults’)- and you have pulled out every piece of yarn you can find. The majority of the blanket is intact, but there are chunks that have been unraveled.

The yarn is a faded gray color and all you have is your favorite color of yarn and a passionate hatred for mending things. It’s thankfully the same consistency and thickness, but Withers only knows how much time and patience you have.

Back to the room you go.

It takes you a few moments to study the pattern, but you immediately begin your work. Your fingers are pricked and sore, unsteady and clumsy. You have never been the best sewer, knitter, etc. so you can only hope that it can make up for even the smallest bit of destruction.

You finish right as you hear his voice ring through the main room- he is heckling Gale about something and you feel like you may very well vomit.

You had moved your things to the corner, just in case, but you still aren’t prepared to face him. Your tears begin to fall again.

You destroyed his blanket.

You are shaking and there is a lump forming in your throat as you try to stop your tears, ready to face probably one of the worst moments on this journey thus far.

He walks into your shared room- all smiles, but his mood quickly changes when he notices all of your things are packed away and your cheeks are tear stained. He looks sick with worry and now you feel even worse.

“My love?” Astarion’s frantic voice makes your stomach turn, “my love- what did I do wrong? What is it? How can I fix this?”

He is already at your side- Astarion’s eyes are filled with unshed tears and he is going to reach for you, but you just hold out the blanket between you.

The silence in the room is deafening and when he takes it- you clasp your shaking hands together and stare at your feet.

Astarion certainly must hate you- there is no way he can forgive you for this.

“I-I was just trying to do our laundry,” you whisper, “and I didn’t realize your blanket was rolled up inside our sheets and it… it fell apart.

“I tried to fix it the best I could, but I- I already know this is unforgivable and I am so unbelievably sorry, Astarion, and I know we are definitely over after this, but please don’t leave. I don’t want you to get hurt or turned into a mindflayer and if it’s that painful, I will just leave and-“

You and your rambling mouth are engulfed in a massive hug that stuns you to your core and you feel cool lips press a gentle kiss to your temple.

You fall apart- all the fear and anxiety from the last few hours has finally hit you. You are struggling to contain yourself and self-regulation isn’t happening. Every abandonment wound you have ever had has been ripped open and left to bleed everywhere inside the room.

“I’m so sorry,” you are still a mess, “I am so so sorry, Astarion.”

“My Dear,” he pulls back, tilting your chin so you are looking at him, “it is okay. I forgive you.”

You blink a few times with your lower lip still trembling. Astarion’s smile is sad as he wipes away your tears and kisses the space around the corners of your mouth before placing one on the tip of your nose. He smiles brightly when your lips finally curve upward a bit.

“At the beginning of this journey, I think I would have been exceptionally mad,” he admits, “but, now? Well, my Love,” he smiles at the blanket in his hand, “I was considering getting rid of it- it’s a reminder of my past in a lot of ways I don’t wish to remember.

“It’s perfect now- it feels like it belongs to me again and not the person Cazador bullied me into being,” his eyes glow with happiness, “I also know you despise this kind of activity and doing laundry- I greatly appreciate you doing both for me this evening, my Dear.”

Your smile cracks open your face and your tears are now filled with relief. You hug him tightly and he holds you back- equally as relieved that it wasn’t a big deal.

And it’s not- Astarion genuinely isn’t all that upset about it. Sure it’s not ideal, but you know what no one has ever done for him before? Fix something of his they broke- or at the very least attempted to. He finds himself grinning like a moron at your clumsy stitching and he adores that your favorite color is brightening up the blanket much like you have brightened up his entire world.

Nor has anyone done his laundry! You did a really good job too.

“You are very good at laundry, my dear,” he muses, “maybe I need to have you teach me some time.”

He can hear you roll your eyes as you put away your items again. Astarion began making the bed- you in all of your panic had completely forgotten to do.

“Oh please- we both know it’s a miracle I didn’t turn everything pink again by accident!”

You had made the mistake of grabbing a red bottle thinking it was laundry soap (at the beginning of the journey, mind you) and your stuff looked ridiculous because the bottle had actually been dyed. Your hands looked like you had just come back from brutalizing someone. Astarion had been the one to help you reverse the horrid mistake.

“That is a positive,” he laughs, coming up behind you and admiring the way you smile in the mirror while he wraps his arms around you, “I am glad I won’t be in some blotchy reddish, pink attire.”

“We would be matching ALL THE TIME though.”

“That, my Love, did not make you dying my laundry pink anymore appealing.”

You throw your head back with laughter- your makeup has created lines down your neck with your tears and you still haven’t had a chance to bathe nor has Astarion.

Astarion plays with the hem of your pants and kisses along your neck.

“You know, practice does make perfect,” he murmurs against your thrumming pulse, “and cleaning another would certainly be good laundry practice.”

You hum in agreement, “that is a good point and I could certainly use the practice.”

“I would be more than happy to demonstrate- I have been told I am an excellent teacher.”

Your grin is wide and your eyes are blown wide with lust- it makes him incredibly satisfied to see you react to him in the mirror and knowing that only he can make you feel this way.

You grab his hand, pulling him towards the washroom.

“We best get started then. I am an eager pupil, after all.”

Astarion’s grin threatens to split open his face and he allows you to pull him along- throwing the blanket onto the bed so that you can mend yourselves together in a different kind of way.

[wren-galathinyus]

a little late to this game and I can't even give my full notes like the previous two times (I'm at work and can't do the second watch through I do to take note of my thoughts) but I would like to scream regardless, sp here are a few disjointed thoughts and feelings I'm screaming into the void!

as always, spoilers for arcane, the final act, under the cut

-LESBIAN SEX LETS GO WE FUCKINGGGG WOONNNNNNNNNNNNNN 🎉🎉🎉🎉🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

-but on a serious note for that thought, I'm so fucking happy that we got to have this. these two complex, beautiful, awful amazing women who are unapologetically queer and finally get their shit together to realise, the world isn't gonna wait for us, let's have sex, let's enjoy it. the fumble that vi makes with caits fancy belt, the delicate and healing way that cait holds and undresses vi, the full shot of vi's back tattoo, the fact that they can't keep their hands off each other and can't stop smiling! fuck! this was everything to me if you couldn't tell. also so much appreciation to the fact that this scene is an exact parallel to their first meeting!

-yes Mel get it with your sexy golden magic. I can't wait for the spin off series that will come from thus show cus I think it'll explore the black Rose and noxus war and I can't wait to see more of them!

-cait fighting desperate and dirty while still being so smart you have my heart (also cait with an eyepatch, fuccckkkkkkkkkk

-Maddie's betrayal lol, and the thanks for the warmth, bitch what warmth, cait was so mean to you even when you were sleeping together 😂

-the alternate reality???? oughh, oug oww, I need to lie down and cry for a whole week about that. everyone being alive except vi??? that shit hurted. also, domestic and therapised powder was everything I didn't know I needed and I'm so glad that when ekko figured out the anomaly that that timelines ekko came back to her. timebomb so cannon (also adore ekko for this entire act, every single second of it)

-jayvik mutual destruction is so them actually, and I'm glad they were together in the end. also sorcerer older vik had to be my favourite of his character designs. he looks so soft and at peace

-ambessas death is really not something I though we would see, or at least not in the way that it happened. but it's almost bitter-sweet that her death was nesacary for Mel to graduate to wolf in her eyes

-look, heimerdingers sacrifice was cute and heartfelt, but I really didn't have any attachment to the guy and was just glad that ekko made it home. very cute little song though

-Jinx is fucking dead and I hate it. yes it was in character, she did her one last good thing and just wanted to rest, but damn why did it have to be like that , but on the other hand, it leaves open the spot for powder to take hold of the narrative, because don't think I didn't see those hextech gems girl. she is everything to me and I really hope she's apart of whatever story comes next (I'm praying that powder gets to see vi all grown up, and that her older sister is okay, and that vi gets to see powder, the girl she might have been, and also that vi can see her brothers all grown up) (but that's all just wishful thinking)

-btw!! I always had faith in the writers. I love how this season came out on the full. it's absolutely amazing to me how they have managed to create on of if not the highest quality animated TV show ever. it was admittedly rushed, and I would have loved to see all these plot threads tugged at thoroughly before being tied up, but I still think what we got was a masterpiece

-jayce I did not like you in season one but I loved you in season two, and I held out hope that we would see why you did what you did, and it was so fucking perfect I would like to kick all of the jayce haters, just a little in the shins

-back to Jinx, it was genuinely so heartbreaking to see her catatonic over the loss of Isha and I hope they're together again now

-final form (herald) vik was pretty cool I like how it looked compared to his LoL design

-cait and Mel team up was something I didn't know I needed but damn it was good. the gays and girl kissers were eating well this weekend

-the animation of powder and ekko dancing? think I'll just go cry for another week for that alone, and their kiss!!??!? screaming crying

okay that's all I can think of for now. I may post more, I may not. I will absolutely be reposting like crazy though. agree or disagree with me, I want to hear your thoughts!

[applebuttercringe]

Arcane episode 8 immediate thoughts

-NGL this is not the direction I thought Mel was going in.

-cool that she is a magical girl though, and made of gold.

-oh it’s the girl her mom killed.

-Mel’s outfit is very fan service

-Leblanc

-this is a lot to introduce in the second to last episode

-Well that didn’t take a lot of convincing…

-Richters funeral

-Time for Viktors T-shot

-Is Ambessa gonna lecture him into living?

-Viktor Machine Herald voice!

-No Viktor you are anti war.

-Oh, so Sky is her own will, disturbed by his actions.

-Do we not see Caitlyn’s reaction to Jayce.

-Ah she thought Loris was Vander

-Caitlyn’s haircut is hot.

-Is she still with Maddie?

-Maddie knows she is about to be cheated on

-Jinx isn’t eating, she is suicidal.

-the hair down

-The Jinx pain train is brutal, this is a lot even for Arcane.

-The Jayce Mel reunion?

-If Mel is untwined with the Arcane then Jayce’s mission will be to end her as well.

-Excuse me what?

-Viktor achieved the ultimate tenderness form? Mannequin.

-Why not come as Huck?

-Well, the Polycule is back together again. This time it is a three way breakup.

-Mel knows how to do the magic at will now?

-Why not explain what you saw? It might not change anything, but he didn’t even try.

-Viktor wants his evil BF back

-Aw man. Villain Viktor. That idea sucks.

-Once again Jayce rushes to Mel lol.

-Is Viktor gonna get broken up with on the astral plane?

-Jinx is finally hearing and seeing Silco hallucinations.

-Killing is a cycle and yet in Ep 7 Vi dying ended the cycle and healed its wound?

-Doesn’t the metaphor not work for Zaun? How do they walk away. They are trapped in the mines working forced labor and banned from Piltover institutions. Is the moral to become passive? Cease to care? How do you forgive and walk away when the crimes are ongoing and inescapable?

-The hug is good

-IS JINX GOMNA KILL HERSELF?

-That’s her resolution?

-Jayce’s self made leg brace perfectly fixing his untreated wound is bullshit.

-The shoulder armor is a CHOICE Jayce.

-How did he manage to get them together? They hate each other? His proposals for peace don’t work but he can get them talking and civil from off screen? Arcane is really abandoning the Zaun v Piltover thing. Like, straight up pretending it was never happening.

-Caitlyn gasses these people like a month ago.

-Yeah, start treating the Undercity as people so you can draft them. Whatever.

-Why the emphasis on the pianist

-I knew they were gonna abandon it but this is unreal to watch.

-Sassing your gf during her mental breakdown is insane

-Caitvi sex scene in a prison cell lol

-Maybe care that this is cheating

-Freaky~

-Damn

-The Tumblrinas are gonna love this

-The Medea’s scene is good

-She can touch embers with her bare hands

-Ambessa you’ve been trying to use Hextech for magic, TF do you mean you hate magic.

-Is there a delay on Viktor saying stuff and the clones saying it? Cause that happened a while ago.

-The song. So this was real Sky all along. She just really wanted him to use the Arcane this way. If this was the intention she should have had more S1 screentime to build up their relationship.

-He is letting them kill her again

-He’s gonna become Warwick?! That is a twist

-EW THE FEET SHOT

-He’s kindred? It isn’t a mask? It’s his head?

Ok so thought: This is a fumble for me. It feels like they are abandoning all the pre established plot and just rewriting the characters into new plots and then rushing those new plots to hell and back. They aren’t finishing what they started. The Jinx pain train is disappointing. Like, more Jinx being self loathing and suicidal, cool. Likely she will have a turn around in this last episode but. IDK. Did I like the time I spent with Arcane? Yes. Is it peak anymore? No. Sorry.

[iamwinklebottom]

THEME: “Random Ass Messages?”

Choices:

1. If this resonates with you, consider getting a personal reading here @ https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/shop/advice-psychic-mediumship-divination/32

• I keep hearing “Can’t Get You Out Of My Head” by Kylie Minogue: https://youtu.be/c18441Eh_WE?si=vfUS2-a-jjamnS81

In the past, you used to fall in love with unworthy people and easily become obsessed a lot. You healed from this and realized that you went through these karmic cycles so many times, so your heart won’t get stolen by unworthy beings anymore.

You are very high vibrational. Please be careful. Check your astrology chart and become familiar with it.

You may not realize it, but people become obsessed with you easily. If you’re in danger, please reach out to me if you want my professional help and services: https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/shop/conjure-services/30

Dealing with stalkers can be very weird and uncomfortable, but please understand what the situation tells you and is teaching you about the “human condition” and your future.

Low vibrational obsession is not attractive or cute, but many people don’t understand that. Protect yourself. Some stalkers genuinely do attack and even hate the people they’re obsessed with and cannot possess.

2. If this resonates with you, consider getting a personal reading here @ https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/shop/advice-psychic-mediumship-divination/32

• I’m hearing a song I wrote. It’s personal and not public yet, but it’s about seeing a divine lover in a dream.

You need to start preparing yourself for love. I offer Divine Romantic Union Preperation services and Divine Love services: https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/s/search?q=Divine%20

These magical services also help with being able to only accept high quality love and give high vibrational love to high vibrational beings who actually deserve it.

Some self love work will benefit you too + Beauty Conjure & Confidence Charisma Conjure: https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/shop/conjure-services/30

You really feel like you’ll be alone for the rest of your life. You’ve grown comfortable with that because of your past, but please understand that you specifically are meant to love and be loved genuinely. Great luck and much love to you.

3. If this resonates with you, consider getting a personal reading here @ https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/shop/advice-psychic-mediumship-divination/32

• I’m hearing “Hey Joe” by Jimi Hendrix: https://youtu.be/biguQQBpHjY?si=fv1DGjjjUgf7fs1E

At first I felt feelings of nervousness. Like “oh god.”

I heard “hey Joe, where you goin wit that gun in yo hand… I’m going to shoot my old lady; I caught her messin round with another man,” but that was just my human self perceiving only the meaning of the song.

You’re safe. Don’t worry. I’m not channeling MUCH about violence.

The thing is, this message is about Jimi Hendrix himself. He was perceived as ONLY a talented, confident, and charismatic sex symbol. Yes, he had those traits, but he was honestly very shy and kind (he did become violent when his mental health started to decline, so continue to prioritize emotional stability please: https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/product/-emotional-stability-conjure-service/260?cp=true&sa=false&sbp=false&q=true).

People will perceive your power and want you far away from them, but so close at the same time. You are a spectacle: a rare breed of being that people want to degrade and abuse, view up close with a glass between contact, or drag you into their personal space to hold forever. Be aware of this.

You must understand the vortex swirling around you and your existence. You are an odd starlight. It can be beautiful and healing, don’t let it become dangerous and unhealthy FOR YOU…

Prioritize evolution and development to assist you in this lifetime and the lifetimes after. Proper social navigation is necessary as well: https://www.iamwinklebottom.com/product/-social-navigation-conjure-service/295?cp=true&sa=false&sbp=false&q=true

[sarahowritesostucky]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, cannibalism, kidnapping, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, dub-con

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen"--or something like that

3. Hors D'oeuvre

Wait! I haven't read the previous chapter(s)

James winds up apologizing profusely for the insanely bad bite.

Steve’s a little disturbed that the guy would do something that rough on their first time together, but he chalks it up to the heat of the moment and forgives him,` telling James that: it's okay, he’s always been a freaky-fast healer anyway.

“S’my superpower,” he quips, making light of it when it's obvious James feels terrible.

“I’m still sorry,” he insists, thumbing carefully over the mostly-healed skin two days later. He stares at it like he stares at everything else—intensely. “I got carried away. Won’t do it again.”

Steve believes him.

Within a week, it’s pretty obvious that they’re dating. Steve kind of feels like the other shoe has got to drop at any moment, but that just keeps not happening. James is like, the perfect guy.

“He’s a doctor?” Clint says, on the third day after Bite Night. It’s movie night and he and Steve are rewatching Midsommar, because Clint’s a movie nerd and is convinced there are still hidden themes he can pick apart in the freaky-ass film. Right now the screen is paused at the exact second where they hammer the old guy’s head into paste. Clint really is a savant with a remote control.

Steve looks the gore over critically and stuffs more chips in his mouth, crunching. “Um, yeah,” he says distractedly.

He wonders how movie people make it look so real. How would they even know what to make it look like? Did one of the movie people see somebody’s head collapse in real life?”

“Earth to STEVE,” Clint waves a hand in front of his face and Steve blinks.

“What?”

“I said: what kind of doctor is he?”

“A surgeon,” Steve says, feeling warm and tingly even as he remembers it. He’s not only met a smart, sexy and funny older guy— he’s met a surgeon. Which automatically means he’s rich, too. Nobody is that fucking lucky in love, certainly not Steve.

“Of what?” Clint prods. “Like, hearts and brains? or boob jobs?”

Steve pauses with another handful of chips. Hm. That’s a good question. “I don’t know,” he says. “What’s it matter?”

“It matters because it’ll determine how much I esteem the guy,” Clint insists.

Steve snorts. “What? If he's a plastic surgeon he doesn’t deserve your respect?”

“Are you kidding? I’d respect him more if that’s what he was.” Clint grimaces. “I respect the hell out of anybody who can pull people’s skin off and rearrange it and unnatural shit like that. S’way more horrible than operating on a regular old heart or whatever.”

Steve makes a face as he considers that. “Yeah, I guess so. I heard once that when they do a nose job they literally like, pull the nose up off the face first.”

Clint gags. “Dude! No. My brain can’t unknow this now!”

“And yet you can watch shit like this.”

Clint presses play and the film resumes, the frame shifting from pasted-guy's head, to Florence Pugh's horrified face. “That's different," he says. "It’s movie magic, dumbass.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You’re a dumbass.”

James tasks Steve with picking an actual date activity for them to do next. “No pressure,” he teases him over the phone, “but I hate stereotypes.”

Well. So much for mini golfing or the movies.

The place is called Bad Axes, their logo is a butt with an ax lodged in it, and the only two things to do there are drink beer and throw axes. Steve doesn’t reveal what they’re headed for when they meet at the subway, so James doesn’t know what's in store until they’re standing right outside the business' doors with the logo on them.

He stares for a long, long moment, and then busts out with the loudest, most sudden laugh. He looks over at Steve with a pained, almost hysterical expression.

Steve laughs. “What?”

“Nothing!” James squeaks. “This’ll be fun!”

Steve spends the rest of the date preening over the fact that he’s impressed his boyfriend.

(He only calls him that in his head, so far. He knows they’re not ‘boyfriends’ yet. They’re still feeling each other out, trying on the idea of being boyfriends. It’s just hard for Steve to remember that, when everything feels so natural between them.)

They grab drinks and get the safety and throwing tutorial from the unimpressed girl whose job it is to supervise drunk businessmen throwing sharp objects after work. It’s an over-the-head kind of deal, and Steve is prepared to nurture his manly pride and leave feeling a little bit like a Viking.

“Want to bet on who wins?” James asks, where he stands beside Steve in their little throwing area, a devilish gleam in his eye.

Steve considers it. The Axe Girl had told them it’s not so much a strength thing as a technique thing, so he’s not worried about being at a disadvantage. “Sure," he decides. "What are we betting on?”

“Hmm, how about … loser has to tell a secret about themselves,” James says. “First to stick the target twenty times wins.”

Steve’s stomach jumps at the look in James' eye. He grins. “You’re on.” Steve doesn’t have any good secrets anyway, so losing won't be a big deal (even though he fully intends to win).

They throw.

There’s a certain amount of body memory to it, Steve discovers after about fifteen minutes of fruitless throwing, his axe cracking off the plywood and thunking pathetically to the ground each time. He winds up getting the hang of it, but not in time to win the bet. James’ axe sticks on the first throw, and the second, and most of the times after.

Steve sulks about it as they take a break at one of the high-top tables, drinking their second round. “You’ve done this before,” he pouts, accusing. “Admit it.. You're a secret lumberjack.”

James looks at him fondly, like he thinks Steve’s reaction is cute. “Not exactly. But I've chopped enough to know my way around an axe.”

Steve grumps playfully at him. “Fine, cheater. I’ll think of a secret to tell you.” Bucky chuckles while Steve sips his beer and tries to come up with something juicy enough to be a ‘secret’ but not so juicy that it reflects badly on him. “I used to get in fights a lot."

James rolls his eyes. “Like as a kid? That doesn’t count.” He shoots him a sly look. “Adult secrets, Steven.”

Steve flushes at the use of his given name. There’s something oddly domineering about it that he likes. “Um, well … I've been arrested?”

James’ eyes light up. “Oh, do tell.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Of course not.”

“It wasn’t!” Steve laughs, shoving James’ shoulder. “It was a bar fight, basically. Some asshole bothering this woman he didn’t know, not taking no for an answer.”

James’ smile softens to something fond. “Aw, Steve. I should'a known. That's you then? Always trying to be a white knight?”

Steve scowls at the term but doesn’t try to deny it. “Well somebody had to do something,” he mutters. “I wasn’t the one who threw the first punch.”

“Why the arrest, then?”

“The charges were dropped. But I guess the jerk had some friends backing him up when the cops came, so I got rounded up too.”

James hums in understanding. “Well, I suppose that’s sort of a secret. But I have to say, I was really hoping for something a little more intriguing from you, Steve. A little more naughty.”

Steve snorts. “Why? You planning to blackmail me?”

“No.”

“You just like bad boys, then,” he jokes. He’s about the farthest thing there is from a bad boy. “Sorry. You’re outta luck with that one.”

“I’m not,” James says quietly, looking him in the eyes. “I actually like the sweet ones.”

Steve colors, he knows he does. “Oh.” He’s a sweet one. He chuckles and looks down at his beer bottle, turning it in little circles. “Thanks. I guess.”

James hums. “Hey, why don’t I apologize for my non-disclosure of my axing abilities, huh? I’ll tell you one of my secrets, too.”

“I’m all ears. What’s your secret?” In his head, Steve sarcastically imagines James saying something like, “I’m actually married and have two point five kids,” or, “I’m addicted to piss and shit porn.”

That’s not what he says.

“I’ve eaten human flesh.”

Steve blinks. “What.” He waits for the punchline, the second part of that confession that’ll make it funny, but there isn’t one. James just sits there and nods somberly. Steve laughs. “No, you haven’t. You have not.”

“I was just out of med school and interning at a center for pediatric reconstructive surgery in Shanghai.”

The smile drops right off Steve’s face. So he is a plastic surgeon, he thinks. He'll have to tell Clint. "The fuck?" he breathes.

James' mouth twists. “Yeah. That's what I said, when I realized."

"You're making this up," Steve says weakly, even though he can tell he's not, because James is sitting there looking completely serious and nodding grimly.

"We'd gone out to a rural village, to assess a few kids for cleft palate correction. There was a mud slide on the only road out of the valley, and we wound up stuck there for a few days."

“What—” Steve realizes he’s nearly whispering. He firms up his voice. “What happened?”

“I was served a meal from a local family, already cooked.”

“Oh." Steve exhales in relief. "So then, you didn’t actually see—”

“No.” James cants his head. “But it wasn’t any meat I’d ever had before. It was …” He trails off, eyes going distant as he thinks about it. “It was so different.”

Steve stares at him, shocked. “But … but that's a big leap. I mean it could’ve been anything. Dog or ... or tiger. Don’t they have tigers in China?”

“Not in that part of the country.” James watches Steve closely for a moment, gauging his reaction. Eventually he looks away, frowning. “And you could tell there was something going on. There was ... At the time, I didn't understand, but it was the way the villagers acted. There was something off about them, something about the way they skulked around, the way they looked at us. How gaunt they all were ..." He shakes his head, deep in thought. "I did some research once I got back. There are some recorded accounts; those soccer players that crashed in the Andes, the Donner party. An anthropologist in the thirties who ate with a tribe in Africa. He wrote a very detailed account of how the different cuts of the meat tasted, what it looked like, what it smelled like.” He inhales deeply, as though pulling himself out of the memory. When his gaze lands back on Steve, it's dead serious and shockingly nonchalant. “It all matched up to what I’d eaten.”

Steve gapes, horrified. He can’t believe that it was a … a human that James had been served. It was too awful. People wouldn’t do that. ... Would they? “It wasn’t,” he says, as if he can make it so by saying it. “They wouldn’t have.”

James still doesn’t seem bothered, though he has pity in his eyes for Steve, apparently able to see how shaken he is by it. “You gotta understand, it was a bad situation. A dead, closed off valley where nothing ever grew. The Chinese government had banished these people out there for some slight, blocked off their access to food. It was like a gulag. These people were living in extreme poverty: cold, sick, and halfway starving. Animals'll do anything when they’re starving."

"Animals ..."

He shrugs and sits back in his chair. "At the end of the day, that’s all we really are. Some very big, overly-clever animals.”

Steve swallows thickly, his throat suddenly dry. He reaches for his beer and takes a hasty swig. “How do you, um, how do you deal with it, then?” he asks. “If you really think that’s what it was?” He’s a little bit stunned by how calm James has remained through telling the whole story.

“It doesn’t bother me,” James says easily. “There’s no way I can know for sure that’s what I ate that day, and I didn’t do it on purpose.” He shrugs and waves it off. “It was so long ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Wow,” Steve says, stunned. “I mean, just … no. And wow.”

“Pretty big secret, huh?”

“Yeah,” Steve mutters, trying to lighten up. James isn’t dwelling on it and he probably doesn’t want Steve to, either. “Yeah, you have, um. Much juicier secrets than me.”

James tips his bottle back for the last dregs of his beer, then clacks it firmly down onto the table. “So,” he says, eyes regaining their challenging, sly glint. “Now that you know my deepest, darkest secret; want to throw another round?”

A few days later, at precisely 11:30 am, Steve receives a text:

Weird Meat Guy: Hey you. I’m starving. Want to grab lunch with me?”

Steve looks down at his dirty work clothes. Yikes. Knowing himself, he figures there's a good chance he also has paint in his hair or on his face, or both.

Steve: yeah sounds good. In 30 or so? Gotta wash up.

Weird Meat Guy: see you soon, handsome.

James texts him an address that's in Park Slope, followed by a cartoon ‘nom-nom’ eating GIF. Steve holds his phone with gesso-crusted fingers and beams at the screen. James must like Steve just as much as Steve likes him, because he’s thinking about him during the week. He’s texting him and sending stupid GIFs and asking him out on lunch dates.

This is going incredibly well.

It's nothing fancy, which Steve appreciates. They meet inside a Panera by Prospect Park. They order drinks and find chairs to sit in by the windows while their sandwiches are made. “Don't you work in Midtown though?” Steve asks, confused. “This is a bit of a hike for a lunch break.”

James stares at him for a long few seconds, blinking repeatedly. “... Oh! Well … I had a big gap between clients today.” He smiles winningly and covers Steve’s hand with his own on the tabletop, giving it a squeeze. “There’s nobody I’d rather make the hike for.”

Steve tries not to let his smile overtake his face, but it’s hard.

Their food arrives, and they eat while trading stories about themselves. Steve tells James how he lives and works alone, but doesn’t mind it one bit. He tells him about his family, or at least, what family he used to have.

“So, nobody?” James asks. “You’re all alone?”

“It’s okay,” Steve says, thinking that James might be feeling pity for him. “I miss my mom, but it’s been a long time. And I’ve made a couple friends. They help.”

“Oh yeah? Who're your friends?”

“Oh. Well there's Clint. We met back in college. And Natalie. She’s the one I told you about.”

“Your patron.” James nods. “I remember.” He leans forward. “So do they know about me?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you tell them about me?”

Steve smirks. “Oh I dunno. Just that I met a really good looking weirdo at the grocery store. Haven’t called the police on him yet.”

James laughs. “That’s all?”

“Pretty much.” Steve shrugs and takes another bite of his sandwich, unconcerned with it. “Clint says he respects you for being able to—and I quote—‘pull people’s skin off and rearrange their outsides’.”

James’ lips quirk. “Well, it is a skill.”

Steve shivers theatrically. “Uck. Power to you. I guess somebody’s gotta do it."

"Alas, yes. The meat market. Demand is only ever growing."

Steve snorts. "Well hey, at least it means you’re, ah … intimately familiar with anatomy.” He winces before he's even finished saying it. Ew, what a lame joke.

But James’s eyes crinkle in amusement anyway. “Yes," he says, reaching for his sandwich again. "I certainly am.”

Steve has James over to Netflix and Chill. He’s not sure if this counts as their sixth date or seventh, but they’ve been seeing each other steadily for the past three weeks, calling and texting daily, so it’s definitely not too soon to start thinking about the “R” word. That’s where it feels like this is headed, but Steve is too chickenshit to speak up and ask if they’re officially in a relationship.

He researches how to make eggplant parmesan and mostly doesn’t screw it up, and James seems touched that he went through the trouble of cooking something vegetarian for him.

“It’s delicious,” he reassures Steve. “I even like the crusty black bits.”

He asks Steve what he does for fun, and Steve is once again left feeling like a boring dolt when he can only answer, “I mean, I really just paint or draw, or watch tv. Clint tries to drag me out for bowling or karaoke once in a while.” He fights not to wince at himself. Jesus god is he boring. He thinks again about joining a gym, maybe getting into boxing or Krav Maga or something. “What about you?” he asks. “What do you do when you’re not carving people up?”

“Hardy har.” James thinks about it. “Well, I do love to do stuff outdoors. I work out ...”

“Yeah you do,” Steve teases, leering a little. James laughs him off.

“I read some, usually have two books going concurrently.”

Steve imagines James having a big, expensive library, complete with those nifty rolling ladders.

“And I’m a pretty good cook,” he adds. “I enjoy it. Working on being an amateur cuisinier, as I said.”

Steve pointedly looks at both of their plates of semi-burnt eggplant slop. “Then why am I the one making us dinner?”

James chuckles, leans across the table to kiss him on the cheek, and promises he’ll cook for Steve sometime soon.

After dinner, Steve pulls up his Netflix queue and scrolls through for something that looks good but not too good, since they’ll probably start fooling around partway through and miss half of it.

They watch a documentary about Richard Ramirez, which Steve apologizes for. (“I know, I know. Me and every other basic white girl likes the true crime stuff.”)

Halfway into Ramirez’s fucked up childhood, Steve says, “Man, what would you do if your kid turned out like that, huh?”

“Question my parenting choices, that’s for sure.”

“I know, right?" Steve shudders. "I feel so bad for Jeffry Dahmer’s mom.”

“Why? She’s alive and kicking. Feel bad for Ed Gein’s mom: pretty sure she’s a lampshade now.”

“Christ.”

James looks over at Steve. “Do you want kids?”

Steve freezes, the unexpected change in topic throwing him for a loop. “Um …” Not ones that'll turn me into a lampshade, he doesn't say.

This is something they haven’t done yet; asked each other what they want for their lives long-term. Because such questions naturally infer that they might be considering each other for a starring role in said life.

Steve swallows heavily and works up the courage to softly admit, “Yeah, one day I do.” He dares to meet James’ eyes, and is relieved when he doesn’t see any rejection there. “I want what most people do, I guess. Get married, have kids.” He shrugs. “The American dream, right?”

“What? No white picket fence and a dog named Fido?”

Steve deflates a little. “Don’t make fun.”

“I wasn’t.” James scoots closer and puts his arm around him. “Hey. No, Honey. I wasn’t making fun of you. I want that stuff too.”

“You do?”

“Mmhm.” He kisses Steve's cheek. “I’m glad you told me,” he says. “Makes you even more of the perfect catch.”

Steve snorts. "Yeah. Sure."

James is the perfect catch, Steve is just incredibly lucky.

James has to go on a sudden work trip, and it's a solid week that they're apart.

The next time he comes over to Steve's place, he’s barely in the door before Steve is slamming it shut and pushing him up against the wall. He sinks to his knees and looks up at James, whose eyes have gone from widened to heavy-lidded in seconds. "Hey."

James smiles lazily and cups his cheek. “Hey there.”

Steve touches him over his jeans, starts rubbing slow and purposeful. After a moment or two, James gets hard enough that he can feel it through the denim. He knees in closer, pushes his face into his groin and rubs his cheek along the bulge of his dick.

James’ hands migrate to his head, running through his hair, over his scalp. “Mm,” he hums, amused. “Did you miss me, Sweetheart?”

It’s been little more than a week apart, but Steve has missed him embarrassingly much. He makes a plaintive noise against James’ crotch and nods. “Yeah.” He’s barely heard from the other man. He doesn’t want to complain though, because it’s still early for them and he doesn’t want to seem too needy.

James had warned him he’d be very busy working and mostly unreachable. He'd had to take a flight out for a surgery consult somewhere—Steve can’t remember where. It doesn’t matter. He’s just glad James is back. He looks up from his spot on the floor, batting his eyelashes and reaching for the front of James’ pants. “Can I?”

James grins and relaxes back against the wall. “All yours,” he says, watching Steve like he’s ready for a show. Steve flushes in a heady mix of arousal and shyness. He tucks his lips in as his fingers find the button at James’ fly, pop it open and pull down the zipper. He curls his fingers over the waistband at James’ hips and pulls, until the jeans are halfway down his thighs. He stops.

James is wearing briefs today—white, and with a waistband that has black lettering: Calvin Klein. Steve grins as arousal hits him harder, his own dick stirring in his sweats. “Tighty-whities, huh?” he teases, and when he looks up, he sees James looking down at him, amused.

“What? You don’t approve?”

“Oh, I approve.” He presses his face against the front, against the hardening line of James’ dick beneath the fabric. What he really likes is to see it get hard from the very start, and he's already making a plan to have James naked for this from the get-go, next time. He palms the soft weight of James’ balls through the fabric while placing kisses along the length of his stirring dick. “Been wanting to do this since that first night,” he murmurs. He rubs his other hand over him, circling the wet spot just by the head. “You've got such a nice cock.”

James makes a pleased noise. “Why don’t you get it out, then?” he says softly, one hand cupping Steve’s chin. His thumb pulls down on Steve’s bottom lip. “I want to see your pretty mouth stretchin' around it.”

Steve moans quietly and nods, fingers hurrying to pull his underwear down. James’ cock bobs obscenely in the air once it’s released, still angled downward from the weight of it and from only being half hard. Steve licks his lips, excited at finally getting to really appreciate it up close. He hasn’t had much chance yet, but he’s seen it, knows that it's beautiful.

James is big—as big a top can get before it becomes counterproductive, in Steve's opinion. A respectable length, with a truly mouth watering girth. His balls are soft and warm in Steve’s palm where he holds them. James is shaved there, while everything else is trimmed down short. "Sir," Steve teases, fondling the smooth weight of his balls. "I may just have to wind up sucking on these."

Above him, James chuckles lowly. "Gotta do what you gotta do, Steven. I won't hold it against ya."

Fuck. What is it about James saying his given name like that? It's so hot, feels almost dirty. Steve can't hold back anymore. He takes his cock in hand and explores it with the gentlest of touches, tracing a prominent vein that runs underneath and up along the side, circling his finger on the wet head that’s peeking out, just barely pressing the tip of his thumb into the slit. He bites his lip as it twitches and jerks. Fuck. It’s fucking beautiful.

Above, James makes a sound in his throat, and when Steve looks up he sees him looking darkly amused. “You sure are taking your sweet time with that, Princess.”

Ooh, Princess. That’s a new one. Steve smirks. “I can take all the time I want.”

He says that, but in the next few seconds he’s already lost his patience, too eager for more. He wants to feel it on his tongue, wants to taste it. He sucks the head into his mouth and is rewarded by James’ quiet groan.

“That’s it,” he praises. “Mm.”

Steve sucks him, swirling his tongue over the head and pulling gently with his hand, jerking him off a little while he sucks. He keeps it up, feeling James twitch and grow in his mouth, until he’s fully erect, and Steve just has to pop off to see. His own hand looks tiny and pale on James' dick. He jerks him softly and groans at the sight of the foreskin sliding over the weeping, fat tip. God, Steve loves uncut guys.

James is watching him with heavy eyes, his lips slightly parted, enthralled at the sight of Steve exploring down between his legs. Steve smirks up at him and looks him in the eye as he kisses along his thigh, hipbone, pelvis; all the way up to his stomach and belly button and back down. He rubs his cheek on the hot juncture of his groin and returns to stroking his cock at a languorous pace. “You’re so pretty,” he murmurs. “Could do this all day.”

“Oh yeah?” James cards a hand through Steve’s hair—a hand that Steve is very smug to note is trembling the tiniest bit—and leaves it there, caressing his scalp. “Can you go deeper?” he asks quietly, offering it up rather than demanding it.

Steve appreciates the concern, but he’s eager to show off. “‘Can I go deeper’,” he mutters, scoffing. “Hold onto your dick, Honey. This is gonna feel really good.” He sucks James’ cock back into his mouth, only this time he keeps going, taking it all the way until it's in his throat and his nose is buried in the short hair at the base.

Above him, James finally loses his composure, his breath stuttering out in a stifled, “Oh, fuck.”

Steve hums eagerly. He grabs onto the back of James’ thighs and squeezes, uses the grip to yank him even closer. He slides his hands up and grabs at his ass, able to feel the muscles tensing and relaxing as James tries so hard not to thrust into his mouth. Steve pulls off and meets his eyes. “You want to fuck my face?” he asks, eager to give James whatever he wants. “You can.”

James looks utterly smitten. He hooks his thumb in at the corner of Steve’s mouth and pulls gently. “Sweet boy,” he murmurs. Steve’s about to take that as a ‘yes’, but then James tells him otherwise. “Another time,” he says. “Right now I just want to watch you work for it.”

Steve’s belly flips in arousal. Fucking hell. He reaches down to squeeze his own dick, which is painfully constricted in his sweatpants by now. He mostly ignores it though, wanting to put all his focus into pleasing James and pulling more wrecked sounds of pleasure from him. This is a relationship Steve really wants to go the distance in, okay? So he shoots James his best sultry look while wettings his lips, and then sinks right back down with eye contact, prepared to give this man the best head of his life.

They shower together, after coming from each other’s hands and mouths. It’s an intimate experience, standing naked and sated together under the spray of the water, touching each other’s bodies without intent. It’s almost more intimate than the sex they’ve just had.

Steve shivers and luxuriates in it as James stands behind him and runs water-slicked hands over his body, not speaking, just enjoying what he’s touching. He kneads the meat of Steve’s ass, his thighs, draws soapy-slick circles down his ribs and across his belly. He kisses and mouths at his neck as he touches him all over. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, and that’s the only word uttered between them for the entirety of the shower.

Later, when they’re sitting together on the couch, drinking wine and talking lazily with nothing but towels wrapped around their waists, James describes his apartment in Manhattan. It’s centrally located but small, because “real estate in the city is sickening.”

“Tell me about it,” Steve murmurs, giving his own shoebox of an apartment a onceover.

James insists that he spends as little time in the city as possible. His preferred residence (because of course he has multiple) is “in the wilderness.”

“Jersey?” Steve asks, lip curled in a sneer.

“Oh no! A little more wild than that,” James laughs, pouring more wine into the glass Steve’s holding out. “It’s out in the Catskills," he confides. "My secret cabin."

"The Catskills?" Steve frowns, trying to think of how long of a drive that must be. “I’ve never been."

“Oh you’d love it,” James insists. “It’s gorgeous out there. Miles and miles of trees. Peace and quiet, no neighbors to bother you.” He smiles wistfully. “It’s the one place I can really let go and relax, be myself. It’s my retreat.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Steve says. James looks so happy when he talks about it, it makes Steve want to go there with him. “Will you take me there someday?” he asks. He’s very aware that the question implies that they’ll still be together down the line. That this thing they have, whatever it is, will continue.

James considers him thoughtfully, though, eyes soft and mysterious, not seeming to mind that Steve is envisioning them in the future. He peers at him in that intense, evaluating way that he has. “Well,” he says. "I mean why not? That'd be fun. Let’s do it.”

“Wait, what? Do it?” Steve repeats, surprised. “You mean like a trip? Like, now?"

“Yeah!" James laughs. “We can go for a few days. I’ll drive us out there and we can just relax together. Cook, watch movies. There’s hiking around the area. And I have a hot tub.”

Steve gasps. “I love hot tubs!”

James laughs and holds out his arms for Steve to climb into his lap. He wraps his arms around him and kisses him. “Okay then, it’s settled. When do you want to go?”

Steve tries to remember his work schedule for that next week, but his thoughts are a little slowed by the warm and gooey feelings he’s got filling him up. James wants to spend a weekend with him. He wants to take him away, show him his favorite place. Steve squirms happily in the other man's lap and tucks his face into his neck, inhaling the rich, clean scent of him and pleased as punch, because this means that James really likes him, and maybe even wants to make him a part of his life.

Jesus Christ, maybe Steve's actually, finally done it. Maybe he really has managed to scoop up the last remaining, non-married, high-value homosexual who actually wants to be in a serious relationship.

It's too good to be true!

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[ficbrish]

Snippet Saturday

[06Jan2024]

This is from one of the posted one shots in my Kinktober collection.

"A Ten Year"

snippet is mature, 18+

bg3 spoilers!!! (takes place post-canon)

[Astarion and Vistri stay at Gale's tower to experiment with magic]

[[tw/cw: alcohol]]

“Hello, darling,” Astarion greeted delightedly as she entered their rooms.

Together they made ten years fly by, yet Vistri felt like she was beholding his face for the first time, only just now becoming acquainted with his voice. She still felt like that when they reunited after being apart for any amount of time. Even just within the space of half a day.

Vistri pouted, “I think he hates me.”

Astarion affectionately pretended to be fed up with her, “What’d you do this time?”

“I… teased him a little.”

“Oh, come now! If he was ever going to hate you over that, we wouldn’t ever be invited to stay.”

Vistri laughed, and its ugliness made her the most precious thing. Astarion had no choice but to wrap his arms around her and feel her convulse against his chest.

His eyes were soft, “And I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Vistri closed hers to soak up the heat and sincerity in his tone. It was sweeter than a song.

Their tongues did the rest of the talking. Then they found each other’s skin underneath their fine clothes. Passing breath back and forth until they eventually sunk to the floor and melted into each other.

Afterwards, they gazed in amazement while their chests wracked like stormy waves. Vistri wiped a drop of sweat off Astarion’s brow that threatened to fall into his eye.

“Let’s take a bath,” she purred.

When they all met for dinner later Gale was no longer peeved, but he had a look of madness about him.

“I’m feeling inspired,” he announced, raising his glass, “To us! And the pursuit of…”

“Debauchery,” Astarion offered.

Vistri smirked.

They clinked and sipped. Gale excitedly took over the conversation with theories on mimicking the psychic link of a mind flayer. Another elixir was obviously out of the question. One would just cancel out the other. And they’d already ruled out the use of more than one scroll.

“—but what if it’s something we wear?!” he exclaimed, the punchline to his lecture.

“Well, I like it,” Astarion said in a high, breathy tone. Then tilted his head and lowered his voice for dramatic effect, “Question is: What should we enchant?”

Undergarments would be the most fun, but those would probably end up discarded, breaking the effect. Any sort of necklace or diadem was a bad idea for the same reason. So, they went with the most basic answer, a ring.

“Boring, but sort of perfect,” Vistri said, “In theme with our little get together—It reminds me of that ring Omeluum gave us, the Ring of Mind-shielding, but—”

“Ring of Mind-flayer,” Gale joked.

Vistri chuckled, “Exactly. I think it could be nostalgic. Don’t you agree, love?”

Astarion swallowed a gulp of… well, somebody’s blood, and set down his goblet to take hold of her reaching fingers.

He nodded, “The rings themselves make splendid gifts.”

“Party favors!”

“Yes, dear,” Astarion patted her hand, “Party favors.”

Gale chewed thoughtfully and hummed, getting ready to say something.

“Do you think everyone will be ready to turn into mind flayers? Even though we wouldn’t be actually turning into one—I mean, we worked so hard not to after all. Now we’re making it into a game.”

“A sex game,” Astarion clarified, just because Gale’s reaction was always priceless.

“With your brilliant ring idea, anyone can skip the mind flayer bits and still have a blast” Vistri said, “But that’s the draw of it for me, personally. I like to face my fears in the bedroom.

“Really puts the whole vampire companion into perspective,” Gale muttered into his wine.

“I think it has the potential to be quite healing, frankly,” Vistri went on, “You know: Take control of the thing we used to not be in control of.”

“And fuck it,” Astarion added.

“But not… At the party. Right?”

“No, Gale!” Vistri scoffed, “Do you tend to host orgies at your other family reunions?”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, “But you both better remember that. I’ll have no illithids at the party proper! Not when it’s my turn to host.”

The first tenday was a disaster of failed attempts. Their unique shapeshifting spell was easier said than managed. The rings ended up being the simplest part. After all, it was just a stack of enchantments: Warding to connect the pair, mind reading, and a mix of charm and psionics for the transfer of sensation and feeling. Those only took time because they had to be bonded pairs. The elixir proved to be just as tricky as the scrolls, but after Gale remembered to enchant the mushrooms, they had something viable.

Just in time, they pulled it off. The only thing left to do before the party was to give the whole experience a test run.

[Read more: AO3 | Tumblr]

[iamthecomet]

cooommmeeeettttt

i’m starting this off by asking how are you? (because this might be one of the more unhinged things i’ve said and also i’m not here often and feel like i need to get niceties out of the way before i go feral 😅)

but anyways into the insanity-

in the interest of self exploration (wink wink) i have inflicted some pretty decent bruises/cuts/scrapes

sometimes it freaks me out but at the same time i almost find looking at the marks is hotter than inflicting them

but now i’m stuck thinking about how the ghoul/ettes would each feel about the marks left by their partners the next day. like who flaunts them, who uses them as inspiration for some self love, who can’t stop looking at them?

-yours in filth, 🦷

Hiiiiiiiii I'm goooodd. I hope you're doing well too! God I have so many thoughts about this, let me try to corral them.

Ghoul/ette mark appreciation/habits/something under the cut.

Dew: for sure gets off on any marks that get left on him over and over again. Pressing down hard on the place in his belly he can still feel Mountain's cock. Curling his own fingers around his throat and pressing down on the fingerprints pressed to his skin by Rain's fingers. Rain: likes to look. He already loves to look at himself. It's made even better when he's painted in bruises, marks from Dew's fangs, or Swiss' fingers. Welts from Cirrus' riding crop. Whatever he can. He always asks for them in places he can look at later. Especially loves to see his ribs and thighs decorated. Aether: Doesn't think much about them after the fact. Lives very in the moment. Looking at them doesn't get him off--the bite of pain they provide doesn't either. But sometimes, when he's alone and horned up. He'll dig his fingers into a scabbing slice and use his quintessence magic to put him back into that moment. Sometimes it's even better the second time. Cirrus: Does not let just anyone mark her. And she doesn't mark particularly easily. So any marks on Cirrus' body are sacred, reserved only for her and the person who made them. There are ghouls in the abbey who have never seen a love bite on Cirrus' skin. She cherishes the ones she allows, loves them. Wears them proudly for whoever gave them to her (but no one else). Cumulus: Bruises like a peach. Almost always seems to have hickies on her neck and collarbones, and tits. Not shy about showing them off. Loves to slip her skirt a little higher on her skirt so she can press her fingers into the dark ones on her thighs, into the deep bites made by fangs. Likes to show them off to other pack members as an invitation to do their worst--to see what they can add to the canvas that is her body. Sunshine: Heals super fast, hates it. Doesn't get to hold onto any sex injuries for very long. But that doesn't stop her from trying. When they do stay for longer than twenty-four hours she has to show them off. Likes to talk about them, much like Cumulus. Will say things like "Well, Cirrus did this one and I've had it for two days! You can't compete" (because she really wants them to compete about it.) Aeon: Strangely shy about marks left on him. Really really loves being marked up by someone's mouth. But likes to keep those things close to him. Those marks are gifts to him, because he was a good boy. No one else needs to see them or know how bad they are. But when he's alone he definitely takes himself apart by closing his eyes and digging his fingers into them and telling himself how good he's been.

Aurora: Somewhere between Aeon and Rain. Loves to be marked, loves that little ache of pain. But doesn't really want to show them off to anyone but herself. She'll stand in front of her mirror the day after a rough session and run her fingers over all her bruises, cataloging them all, remembering the exact moments they were made. Then (after a brief distraction) will go about her day like they're not even there and nothing happened. Those are for her pleasure. No on else's. Mountain: Doesn't particularly care about looking at them, doesn't use them as a way to get off necessarily. But definitely gets a little jolt of want when he accidentally aggravates it. When he sits down after a night bent over Dew's knee he has to bite back a whine as the ache pours through him. Swiss: Likes to show them off--has to. Will go shirtless after a particularly rough session with Cirrus. If Rain has flayed his back open with his claws, everyone has to see it. Always wears v-neck t-shirts when his neck is fucked up.

[three-taikas-in-a-trenchcoat]

OFMD Season Timeline

(Obvi season 2 spoilers)

TL; DR: there’s like a month in between episode 5 and 6.

This ended up being a little longer than I planned but there’s pics you can stare at longingly, so that helps, right?

I’ve seen a lot of people assuming that each episode of the show is like the next day and so Stede and Ed having sex would have happened like a day after they agreed to go slow.

But I think it had to have been at least a a couple of weeks and here’s why:

Remember how Ed had to wear the bag (and collar) of shame until people felt comfortable around him?

In episode 6 Ed is back in his regular clothes and everyone seems much more comfortable around him. When Jim and Frenchie approach him and Stede about the party, they even greet them as “captains” (plural), which I sincerely doubt they would have done if they still hated him.

Additionally when Ed and Stede walk into the party, everyone greets them both with drinks and happiness. The animosity, jumpiness, and fear seem to have been resolved or put aside.

This wouldn’t have happened in a short period after everything the crew went through. I know Olu, Jim and Archie were more chill about his return later in episode 5, but it wasn’t the friendliness and camaraderie we see here.

I take episode 6 to have happened at least 1-2 weeks, if not longer after 5. Personally I don’t think I’d get over someone trying to kill me that quickly, but hey, I’m not a pirate.

Additionally, let’s talk about our favorite unicorn for a second:

This is Izzy’s scar in episodes 5 and then 7 (taking place the day after 6)

Waaaaaaay too healed for just a day or even 2. I’ve had numerous surgeries. My scars from surgery 3 weeks ago haven’t even shown that level of improvement. I get Unicorns are magical, but he isn’t Buttons.

Additionally, the way Izzy is so relaxed around Ed… no way has it only been a day. He just got his leg amputated, what like a week before 5? He shouldn’t even be walking on his unicorn leg at that point (but we will ignore that because he and the leg are beautiful). The scene with Izzy and Ed is calm and bitchy in the way you are with siblings and old friends when you get over a small fight. I feel like it might take a little longer to forgive or even be in the presence of the person who tortured you and your crew and took your leg (among other things).

He also tells Stede that he sees how good he and Ed are for each other. That it took a long time to realize it but he does. When did he realize this? In the middle of a storm they thought would kill them? While he was passed out during an amputation? During his bender in episode 4?

That’s all me projecting, I know. Let’s be honest that’s what meta posts like these are a lot of the time (but god I love them).

The only episodes that seem to be exactly a day apart are 3, 4, and 5. And obviously 6 and 7.

So TL; DR: there’s like a month in between episode 5 and 6.

Any additional timeline things you have for season 1 or 2 are great!

Edit: someone pointed out Pete and Lucius’ 24 hour sex spree after getting engaged and this shoots my theory, but maybe they’ve done multiple sprees?

Idk the relationships between all of them are so much more comfortable now and too quickly if it really has been only a day. It kind of feels like we’re missing an episode in between 5 & 6 that would have transitioned everything more smoothly. I still blame this entirely on HBO cutting 2 episodes and not on the writers who were trying to work with what they had.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Hi! I've been following your blog for a couple years since loving DiW and really enjoy your recs so I was wondering do you know any historical romances where the male lead has personality similar to Erik/the phantom from poto or is disfigured / wears a mask etc? Thank you!

Thank you so much, first off!

BOY. DO. I.

So the first one I'm going to recommend is not a strict historical romance... Like it is, and it isn't, but I'm going to strongly recommend you check it out because the entire series is amazing and if you're a POTO fan I think you may be able to get behind some BATTINESS.

It's Firelight by Kristen Callihan, the first in her fabulous Darkest London series. Which is absolutely set in the Victorian London we know and love... just with like. Supernatural creatures running around. The average people don't know about it, it really isn't Steampunk despite what people will tell you. It is a historical romance series. But with magic. It reads VERY similar to the 1999 Mummy, tonally speaking.

So, why I'm recommending it: Our heroine, Miranda, secretly has these fire powers. She's accidentally burned shit down in the past, her dad SUUUCKS and has had her pick pockets for him before, etc. But basically, hard times are hitting, and I think her dad owes the hero something... and the hero is like cool you can square up by giving me YOUR DAUGHTERRRR. But the hero, Archer, wears like, a full mask. Like a porcelain mask. And won't let her see his face at all. And is OBSESSED with her.

Features one of my favorite moments in a long time, where he gets stabbed in one of his mysterious evening excursions (TM) and refuses to let her help him medically, so she basically just follows him as he manfully bleeds out in their palatial estate until he's about to lose consciousness and is like "FINE MIRANDA YOU CAN HELP".

Ummm my favorite Grace Callaway book, Pippa and The Prince of Secrets, is a fun option. Pippa is a widow, and Cull is the guy who gave her her first kiss before they were separated. He now runs a band of CHILD THIEVES!!! and wears a mask because half of his face has been horribly scarred. The scene where he first lets her view his face without the mask is SO. EMOTIONAL. I got choked up.

Also they use a sex swing at one point. Cull FUCKS. But he also skulks and yearns.

She Tempts the Duke by Lorraine Heath has a hero who's scarred on one side of his face is very angsty about it (he doesn't wear a mask, but he does wear an eyepatch). The heroine knew him as a kid, they were falling in love (in a childish way) and he had to run away with his brothers because their uncle was trying to kill them. He comes back years later, scarred and self-loathing and very much a brooder, and she's about to get engaged to another man. Cue the angst!

The Taming of a Highlander by Elisa Braden. In this one, the hero was wrongfully detained for something he didn't do, and was very brutally treated and scarred on one half of his face as a result. (Another "no to mask, yes to eyepatch" book.) The heroine is this very sweet girl and ends up having to marry him in order to avoid testifying against him. It's very much a "he hates himself, she helps him heal" book and it's soooo good. Especially if you like a "it'll never fit" moment. Which.

To Beguile a Beast by Elizabeth Hoyt has a hero who's scarred, and again, eyepatch--and he's been hiding up in his big Scottish lair/castle, when the heroine comes to act as his housekeeper with her two kids in tow. What he doesn't know is that she's on the run from her kids' father, as she was his mistress and he was horrible. The hero does a lot of "I'M A MONSTER" stuff but he also bends her over his desk and fucks her soooo.

To a lesser extent, Hoyt's The Raven Prince may also give you this vibe. The hero is scarred, but this time from smallpox--he's still very dramatic about it. (In many ways, this book is Jane Eyre but with fucking and without a kid.) The heroine is his secretary, and they get into this tension-filled situation.

[trickscourse]

hell yeah I'm angry, you're defending an abuser and acting like you know him better than his ex partner and ex-friends and ex-mutuals and victims (also lol u trying to make the minor victim the bad guy in this) because you 'watched' him for a few years. You think this gives you the right to dismiss people who actually knew him. And you have the audacity to do this while championing yourself as someone who calls out pedos and abusers, and works at cons with young impressionable teens. You have the audacity to use you being black and allegedly transfemme (your sister blog has used the phrase about another transfemme so I'm sure ur OK with it, and you and calloutrebutal have said your transmasc) as a shield for any criticism. I'm angry because I had an autistic sibling sa'ed by an older autistic person, and them being autistic doesn't give them a pass. Mental illness and being abused doesn't give a pass for abuse. And puppychan was his alter and is an old username not a deadname, Salem is the alter who took over. Don't treat alters as the same person.

The defense blogs aren't my "sister" blogs, I don't support their shit and go out of my way to ignore them most of the time.

One day I hope you come off anon so I can send you a really good link for analyzing what people say and not just shoving words in my mouth and making assumptions. I'm not "defending an abuser", I'm doing research when I get a moment to myself and have the time and energy to throw myself in a situation I don't have the spoons for.

The minor in question wasn't a victim nor am I going to victimblame them, an issue with the whole situation regards to Salem is a lot of shit is thrown out of context. I've spoken to ex and current friends of his, two people I consider family are people who used to be mutuals with him.

Nobody is a bad guy for being an abuse victim, I'm not trying to say that Salem being autistic is an excuse to hurt people, it's not. I've said "my mental illness isn't an excuse for my behavior and explains why certain things happen at best" dozens of times. When it comes to Salem's situation, it's very hard to not find ableist and unbiased information on everything. If you have any, send it.

Your whole perception of me "championing" myself as someone who hates predators and 'loves' working with children is weird. When I call out predators, something I've been doing since I was 18-19, I usually don't attach my name unless it's necessary. I care about the job getting done, not credit.

Accusing me of going out of my way to talk and hang out with children is really, really fucking weird when most times someone will walk up to me and ask basic questions or ask where I got my shirt/backpack/food and we strike up a conversation. Before it goes on for too long I usually say that I'm an adult in my [actual age] and if they feel uncomfortable continuing talking, to just let me know and I'll fuck off.

Your weird insistence that I use something I'm passionate about (ending the cycle of abuse I was in and wanting people to be safe) as some sort of magic eraser for me previous actions is shitty projection or you just not knowing me.

The fucking reach around that you have saying I'm "allegedly" transfem when other people on this website would have my head on a stick for looking at someone else saying the same thing is REALLY cute, I'm not comfortable talking about my gender/bio sex/agab on anon, but trust me when I say I know the body I have more than you do. Rebuttal isn't mine, and I'm not okay with it saying that.

Me being a minority isn't an excuse for criticism, and I've asked people to not do that or to treat me like a diversity point. Something even @parafiles has done on more than one occasion. It's annoying and gives "AFAB owned business" energy.

Genuinely, I'm sorry that your sibling went through that. I hope they heal from that and can move on. When it comes to "Don't treat alters as the same person." I have the same disorder he has, I obviously know this. Someone can be uncomfortable with a former name.

[the-savage-garden]

ACOTAR Sex Talk

I was going to write a post about this later but I’m currently thinking about it so I may as well make this post.

I brought up erotica earlier and I want to address that I actually don’t mind reading about sex in books, I find it entertaining, though I’m more familiar with smutty fanfiction. I give so much flack to ACOTAR about it because I thought it was going to be a fantasy romance so I had different expectations and was disappointed that it didn’t meet those. The 1st book made it seem like it was going to be a romance series, though it had signs that it was going to turn into an erotica series but I ignored them, but by the 2nd book it confirmed what I had ignored. So now I’m just confused by the whole series.

The 1st book alluded to sex scenes but wasn’t explicit about it. It kept bringing up how “attractive” characters were a lot that it irked me, that had seemed like a sign of it’s future in sex scenes. There was that ridiculous part where Tamlin is possessed by some magic that makes him really horny, I’ve read similar things in smutty fanfictions before so I know what this whole thing was about, another sign for erotica. I can’t remember how many times Feyre had sex with Tamlin, I know at least once at the end. What was interesting was that Feyre initiated all of them (until the 2nd book).

Then there’s the 2nd book where it’s just blatant with the erotica, I actually had been surprised by it because I thought it was going to be like the 1st book but it wasn’t. I know it wasn’t many but it was a significant difference if you compare it with the 1st book, certain scenes were written in a more explicit way. At least from what I recall.

I honestly think the sex scenes in the 2nd book was stupid. The only-one-bed trope is actually a favorite of mine but the scene in ACOMAF along with the shitty worldbuilding and terrible character dynamics ruined the fun for me. Also it made no sense how no one recognizes Rhys at the tavern, they were in the NC weren’t they!? He also has sexual trauma caused by Amarantha, was he even given enough time to heal? Not much time has passed when this happened!

I absolutely hated that scene with the paint, it pulled me out of the story real fast. If I can’t even enjoy the sex scenes what is the point of me reading these books? The series clearly wants to be erotica but it sucks. I’ll just stick to smut in fanfiction, at least it’s free and I can find what I want.

I’m still curious about getting to ACOSF though, I’ve read it’s bad though so I don’t know. My curiosity gets the best of me.

[ravenlilyrose]

20 Questions for Writers

Tagged by @oakashandwillow

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 100, exactly. Some of them are ridiculously short (3SF) and some are compilations (also 3SF) so not quite sure how much that number means.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 86,252

3. What fandoms do you write for? Interesting question. I think Narnia still has the highest number of works published, but I haven't written much of that in a while. Doctor Who and Star Trek also have a lot, as do Merlin and Star Wars. I've written a couple things for Queen, Good Omens, Goncharov. Most everything else is stuff I've only written one or two fics for. I'm currently publishing my first Elementary fic and hope to do more in that fandom. My interests are pretty fickle.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Pendragons' Protector. Merlin. Royal(ish) Merlin. First in my series of the same name.

Breathe. Star Wars. Clone Wars era Obi-Wan back on Melidaan fic. Part of my The Absent Third series.

Choices. Star Wars. The Young offer the Vod'e a choice. Next in The Absent Third series.

Warm Chocolate Milk. Star Trek. A childhood friends Kirk&Spock AOS AU. First in my Separate, Not Apart series.

Introductions. Star Trek. Baby James Kirk and baby Spock meet. Next in the Separate, Not Apart series.

5. Do you respond to comments?

As much as I can. Chronic illness (fatigue, pain, etc.) mean that I sometimes take a long time, and if there are only emojis I sometimes don't know what to say (I still really appreciate those, just not sure what the correct/acceptable response is - I overthink everything), but I try to respond to everything.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't really write angsty endings. Maybe High King of All Albion, but that's more bittersweet than anything else. Goodbye, my Goncharov/Katya fic is also kinda bittersweet because it's canon-compliant and that whole relationship is tragedy. I'm probably forgetting something, but I do tend more toward healing and fluff.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think more of my fic endings would be categorized as reflective or peaceful, than happy. Maybe Meant for the Sky, which is a Biggs Darklighter lives AU? Or Coming to Terms, which is a Merlin magic reveal story with a very experimental style? Don't really know.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I think someone once told me one of my stories wasn't realistic, but I wasn't trying to be realistic, so...

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope. I'm the kind of aroace who is uncomfortable with sex. I skim smut that includes plot and skip smut that doesn't include plot but could never spend enough time with it to actually write it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Yep. Most of my crazy crossovers don't actually make it all the way to a finished product. Actually, going through my AO3, I don't think any of my crazy crossovers made it there. I did a Narnia/Sandman for 3SF 2023? I have had daydreams about putting like six fandoms and three bands in a room and just kinda seeing what happenes, but those are too chaotic to write.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I've translated some of my own fic? If that counts?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope. Too anxious to work with other people. Closest I've gotten is trying to write Star Wars movies with my brother when we were little.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I don't really ship things in the traditional sense. I focus a lot more on platonic relationships and get obsessed with the literary things about them. Parallels, etc. Also, y'know, codependence and other fascinating psychological disorders and traumas. I was pretty into Doctor/Rose for a while, otherwise platonic relationships that fascinate me include Spock & Kirk, Merlin & Arthur, Joanlock (Elementary).

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a massively extensive Tarsus IV (Star Trek) fic that I've been sorta working on for close to a decade now. I doubt the main fic will ever get fully written but some of the outlying stories might.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm pretty good at worldbuilding and those kinda long reflective, expository sections. Relationships are also a strength of mine.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Pacing and plotting. I'm pretty good at character arcs but plot is not a strong point.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've played with this a lot, though mostly with fictional languages. I think if you're writing long paragraphs of dialogue, it's not going to work too well, but a sentence or phrase here or there can be done just fine in several different ways. Unless it's just a word or two that you use repeatedly, you do need to have some kind of translation somewhere, though.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter, I think, but that was ages ago and Narnia and Doctor Who took over pretty quickly.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I'm fairly proud of Plenty of Beds, a queerplatonic Joanlock fic, but High King of All Albion, Coming to Terms, and The Pendragons' Protector are all pretty high up there, too. (Apparently I do a lot of my best writing for Merlin. Who knew?)

Tagging @grace13star, @sharpestasp, @capybaraonabicycle, @ruinconstellation, @quillsink, @syrena-of-the-lake. Absolutely zero pressure and also tagging whoever wants to do this. Curious about other people's answers!

[not-poignant]

Alright, so this is something I realized based on the brushes of worldbuilding you placed in the background of your *Underline the Rainbow* series, specifically, attitudes about omegas based on James's family from *Underline the Black* and Christian's attitude toward Nate from *Underline the Blue.* Even more specifically, the belief about how omegas have "healing powers" they bestow upon whomever they bond with. James's family believed in this strongly enough that, years later, they still work to destroy James's chosen partner because they felt an omega bond would magically heal terminal cancer. They even got journalists on their side, suggesting this idea is common enough in this world to warrant a news story. Thus, it wouldn't be a stretch for those that believe in these magical omega healing powers to "prescribe" an omega as a means of treating PTSD. Of course, you'd want one that isn't suffering from any mental or physical issues themselves, so you choose an omega who had a positive upbringing, like Nate. Christian or his family vetted Nate, picked him, and now are working to make Nate the perfect omega to soothe and heal Christian and his PTSD, someone who will never cause any negative feelings toward the alpha so he can focus on getting better Which is why Nate will always fail. He wasn't chosen as a partner, lover, or even a caregiver. He was chosen to exist as a perfect shadow of Christian, intuitively giving everything to his alpha while not taking any thought from Christian to care for, not even making a face when eating a food he hates or having a fabric he enjoys in his own heat nest that Christian doesn't like. Nate's not seen as a person; he's meant to be a tool with no soul, no desires, no concerns that contradict what Christian wants, and he will never be perfect enough to succeed there because it's an impossible standard. Heck, I'm half convinced the things Nate wants from Christian that the alpha mocks him for during heats are things like cuddling, not the sex itself. So yeah, I'm excited for more of both stories, especially *Blue.* Thanks again for writing such wonderful stories.

Anon, this is really clever and I half wish it was that deep, because you've put a lot of creative thought into this and I have not gone in that direction at all.

Firstly, I really wish fringe conspiracy theories didn't get picked up by the news, but we've learned thanks to the pandemic that this will actually happen a lot if the news is interesting or controversial enough (i.e. news headlines about vaccine injury being pushed by anti-vaxxers as 'proof' that they're right / were right all along). A theory doesn't have to be common for it to hit the news, the folks who believe in it just have to be loud enough. Gary's situation was newsworthy in particular because James was quite a well-known musician in the state, and there are less than 30 peak alphas in Western Australia and very few of them are in relationships, when they enter a relationship, it tends to enter the gossip columns anyway.

As for Christian, it'd be nice if this was something Christian's family was pushing - or not nice exactly, but it'd be nice if there was a broader overarching reason that isn't simply: Christian is abusive.

That's it.

Christian is abusive. He's an abuser. He doesn't believe Nate can heal him or soothe him or support his PTSD. He doesn't subscribe to fringe conspiracy theories. He's just one of the many millions of people out there who believes he has a right to control the lives of others, and to punish them when they aren't exactly the right 'shape' that he wants based on whatever whims he's experiencing in the moment. Abusers get PTSD too.

There is a very simple reason why Nate will always fail in that sense: Christian is an abuser, and he enjoys having power over others. Unfortunately for Nate, Christian's flavour of abuse is emotional/psychological, and Nate has no defences against it, because he never came into the relationship as an equal in the first place.

Christian never wanted perfection. He's gotten it by his own definition many times, and he's the one constantly moving the goalposts on Nate, to make sure he's always doubting and questioning and second-guessing himself. Christian could get everything he wanted in its exact perfect format and when Nate attempted to do the same thing the next day, he'd find a way and a reason to put it all down. It doesn't need to be logical, Christian enjoys subjugating those less powerful than he is, and he believes he has a right to do that.

He could if he wanted to use a conspiracy theory to support it but he - like most folks - disdains those sorts of theories. I think he'd scoff at the idea that omegas could be genuinely healing to anyone, tbh, both because the theory isn't really true, but also because of his general contempt towards omegas.

I'm sorry anon, you've put a lot more creative thought into how this could all sync up than I have! I tend to see all the relationships as quite separate (i.e. the kind of stories that could be read each as standalones), and sort of conceptualised them all very separately.

But also, I think this is influenced by the fact that Nate and Christian are actually a couple from another story of mine, Falling Falling Stars, where there was no conspiracy theories, but there certainly was an abuser, and an abuse victim who became very cynical and closed off after being with Christian, even once he'd fallen in love with Janusz. I saw no reason to introduce something completely new when the shape and structure of the abuse can remain essentially the same!