#as far as I know I was still a mutual with

[lurkingshan]

Once again, MAME proves that she understands the use of sex in story better than virtually any other BL creator. There was so much communicated in the intimacy scenes in this week's The Boy Next World, and all of it was tied closely to character and relationship arcs.

Throughout this episode, Cirrus is trying to hold himself back from going too far with Phukan, and it's not because Phu doesn't want it. The reason is clear: Cir is still lying to Phu about their past, and he is feeling guilty as hell about that. Until he clears that air, he doesn't think it's right for him to fuck Phu. Last week he focused exclusively on Phu's pleasure, and in this episode he gets worked up a couple times but fights himself and holds back from pursuing his own.

But Phu is here too, and he has his own desires. I yelled out loud first when he thrust his hips up to try to get Cir to continue grinding on him, and then when he climbed on top and said he wants to help Cir with his (not so) little problem. Seeing a character like Phu take agency in a sex scene--and be unashamed of his inexperience as he asks his partner to guide him-- is always a little thrilling, and it was especially great given the tilted power dynamic here with Cir knowing more than Phu does. In this way, Phu has power over Cir, too, and he wants their relationship to be mutual and reciprocal. That balance is crucial to deepening their relationship and setting a foundation for them to move past the lies when Cir comes clean.

And on that note, I appreciated that Phu pretty much already knows Cir is lying to him about something before he makes this choice. Cir's hinting is not subtle, and Phu already called him on it and tried to signal his willingness to hear Cir out when he's ready to fess up. The fact that Phu then chose to get intimate again and trust Cir enough to do this with him communicates that he already feels comfortable with Cir, despite knowing he doesn't yet understand everything that's been happening and what Cir is still holding back.

[ramp-it-up]

Peach VI

Peach V | Peach VII

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is a mob boss trying to get clean. It’s definitely because he’s in love. With you. He's got you on his turf in NYC. You two FINALLY admit your feelings for one another and seal the deal. But how far are you willing to go for this love?

Pairing: Art Dealer/Artist/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: This is it! I hope the smut is up to par. When I tell you I’ve agonized about this. But thank you to all who were in my inbox and dms giving me encouragement this week. Love you bunches! ❤️

This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in Peach V. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, eye fucking, Steve Rogers is an artist, y'all!, sending (almost) nudes, phone sex, possessive Steve, references to shibari, mutual masturbation, pining, references to sex in a car, the "L" word, oral (f recieving), fingering, overstimulation, nipple play, size kink, pleasurable pain with sex, definite breeding kink, raw p in v, Lil bit of Dom Steve if you squint, references to murder. Something big may or may not happen after the last line.

Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-------

Steve Rogers left you in your hotel room, a quivering, emotional, mess.

He’d made you cum, hard, but you felt that he was holding back, that if you’d told him how you felt it would have been so much better.

Or maybe that was all in your mind. Steven Grant Rogers was on your mind a lot since you met him as Grant Stevens in Atlanta.

A lot happened in a short amount of time that caused you to deny your feelings for him. And now you were no longer trying to keep him out. 

He was definitely a distraction, but now you couldn’t deny your feelings for him any longer. You just needed to be a woman about it and tell him.

What’s the worst that could happen? You weren’t going to marry the guy, you just want to explore these mutual feelings. It shouldn’t be complicated.

Right?

You still had the rest of the week in New York to stress out about it, so that was a plus. The afternoon was ahead of you and the next day was the Summitt.

After that, you had your one on one with Steve.

Bucky told you about Steve being an artist himself during your meeting with him. So, for your meeting with Steve, you requested that you see some of his artwork, and he agreed.

You were curious to see what he could create, and you were anxious and turned on at the thought of him as a creator.

You were so into Steve Rogers.

And you didn’t know what you were going to do about that.

—--

Steve had to stop himself from going back up to your room three times after he left. He finally exited the hotel and stalked down the street back to the Rebirth building to his car and pulled out his phone, dialing Bucky and pulling out of the garage.

He needed a drive and a little alone time to clear his head and come down from you, but he also needed his friend’s help.

“Wassssaaaap! Did you get the–”

Steve cut Bucky off.

“Remember that shopping trip we took a few weeks ago? For the ring?”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah. Meet me on 47th street.”

—-

That afternoon, you just kept your distance from Sharon and ignored her, focusing on the task at hand and all business. You didn’t want to waste energy on her.

Your energy was spent on thinking about Steve and wondering if he was thinking of you too. You wanted to text him, but you were chilling. You didn’t want to seem to eager.

You were successful in your self control until 11 pm as you tossed and turned in your hotel king bed. Doubts, but mostly need and desire, coursed through you. 

You were going to find out exactly what Steve was doing right now and who he might be with. You shook your head at how much you cared; it was definitely not something you regularly did. You weren’t used to feening for someone.

You were choosing violence as you posed on the bed in front of the mirror. You sat on the bed, crossed your legs and snapped a picture.

You weren’t naked, but your panties were skin tone and your sleep bra was sheer and you were feeling needy.

Before you thought too hard, you sent it to Steve, then jumped in bed and pulled the covers over your head with that feeling of dread and panic when you don’t know if you’ve done something supremely reckless or not.

—

Steve was ready for the Summit, but he couldn’t stop thinking of you. Sleep was elusive, so he was self medicating, sketching your body from memory of mostly touch.

His phone vibrated and he almost didn’t pick it up, but when he saw your name, his heart sped up.

He clicked through to your message and his heart started hammering in his chest. 

Sorry, wrong thread.

The picture you sent along threatened to give him a heart attack. He zoomed in a couple of times and then read the message again. What the fuck?

——-

In less than a minute your phone was ringing. You picked up immediately.

“Don’t fucking play with me, Peach.”

Steve’s growl got you wet, but you instantly regretted your horny decisions.

“It was a mistake.”

“It absofuckinlutely was. You’re joking about it being the wrong thread, right? That is mine, correct?”

You shivered at his double meaning and at his possessiveness.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers.”

Your voice was needy and that awakened a hunger in Steve. He was beyond frustrated that he wasn’t there to spank your ass raw, but he remained quiet.

You sensed his mood.

“If I were there, I’d make it up to you…”

You were testing the waters, experimenting to see if he would give you what you wanted despite his annoyance.

If he would give you what you needed.

“What would you do?” 

Steve’s baritone was silk in your ear.

“What?” 

You suddenly found that you couldn’t breathe.

“What would you do if you were here?”

“I’d kiss you,” you rushed out in a whisper.

Steve paused, letting your sentence hang in the air.

“And?” 

There was an edge to the question. 

“And… My lips. All over you.” 

Fuck, he was hard. Just a few words in your husky voice, and Steve delirious, imagining his hands in your hair as you kissed him.

“Where?” he asked mercilessly, his voice broken with lust.

“Everywhere…your face, your neck, your nipples, your abs. Your cock.” 

You were definitely not a virgin, but you were blushing through the phone although your hand was rubbing the skin at the edge of your underwear.

“Want you in my throat.” 

Steve had to concentrate to stay hard. 

“Oh? What if I want more than that?” 

“You can have whatever you want...” 

A sense of power flooded Steve’s body, both heady and intoxicating at your admission.

“You should be very careful when you make that offer, Peach,” he said softly. 

“I trust you.” 

Holy fuck. Why did that mean everything to him?  He cleared his throat.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered.

“Okay.” 

You complied so readily, it made Steve even harder.

Your clit was so hard as you circled it.

“Are you wet, Sweetheart?” 

You moaned and Steve reached into his sweats and curled his fingers around his aching cock.

“My pussy is so messy for you, Mr. Rogers,” you whispered, thrilled and afraid of how much you wanted him. 

Steve rolled his eyes as his cocked jerked for you.

“Such a good little slut.” 

“Fuck…” 

You realized the breath you’d been holding as you listened for his voice.

“Your pussy is so beautiful Peach. And god, you taste so good. Just like a sweet peach.”

Steve knew he had you in the palm of his hand. But fuck, you had him in yours too. 

“But your cunt is so tiny. I’m gonna needs to get you ready for me, Baby.”

“Is it going to hurt me?” you whined. 

Steve was about to explode at your little innocent voice asking the most nasty question.

“Yes, Peach. It is,” he growled as your anticipation reached 100.

Your breath sped up and so did your fingers. Steve grunted, his fist moving faster, thumb swiping the copious dribbles of precum dripping from his slit.

He should have known it was over as soon as he opened your message.

Hot sex was happening.

Electronically.

As the coil in your belly wind tighter, you realized with both joy and dismay that you were addicted.

“Steve, “m so close…” 

“Of course you are.” 

Steve soaked up your cute little sex sounds, thirsty for more. 

“You know what I’m thinking about, Doll?” 

A shaky breath was your only response. Steve continued.

“I think I want to tie you up. Silk ropes all over you, pretty little knots. I’d tie your arms behind your back, so those tits would sit up pretty for me to slap, lick and suck. That ass would be tied up so sweet and open so I could eat it.”

Your eyes rolled at the sensations his words and your fingers were sending to your clit. 

“I’d fuck your throat and cum all over that soft, sweet body. Over and over, while I tease your greedy little cunt. I want to see it drip down your delicious nipples, your belly, your hungry pussy, your pretty face. I need to see all of you covered in my cum. Everywhere, marking you as mine…Mine.” 

You gasped, and then moaned and your entire body tightened up then released.

Your mouth hinged open as you came. 

“Mine,” Steve hissed, tightening the knots around you both and jerking his cock until cum spurted out. He listened to your breathing and knew that you’d just cum as well. 

Suddenly, he missed you.

“You good, Peach?”

You hesitated.You heard the yearning in his voice and you wanted to be in his arms, but you lied to him anyway.

“Yeah.”

Steve smiled at you. He shook his head even though you couldn’t see.

“Sweet dreams. See you tomorrow.”

“Night Steve.”

—---

You needed a distraction.

Steve looked so delicious this morning, sitting on stage and serving art intellectual in a dark turtleneck and brown corduroy suit. A suit that was tailored to the detriment of everyone who looked at him. 

Holy shit.

This man was wearing a corduroy suit and he made it look damn good.  

And he made you feral.

You decided to give your cousin a hard time to prevent yourself from becoming a simp.

“You look like that damn heart eyes emoji, ya know.”

She didn’t look at you as you yanked her chain. She just continued to follow Bucky’s every move and lit up when he glanced her way. She was gone, girl.

You teased her some more until you saw Steve. You sighed and gazed at him, straightening your spine as you remembered how he made you cum twice yesterday. And he’d hardly touched you. 

As if sensing your gaze, Steve’s head turned. Those mesmerizing blue eyes locked with yours, and the rest of the world disappeared in an instant. For a moment, you were frozen. Pinned in your seat by his magnetism.

This feeling was so heady.

When you realized you’d been caught staring Steve down, you tried to change the unspoken subject.

“Bucky is pretty much the man.”

“Fucking-A.” 

Her chuckle was all-knowing. Then she read you.

“Steve is the shit too.”

You couldn’t front anymore.

“He’s amazing. I had no idea about everything that he does. Have to say, I’m impressed.”

She was speechless and so were you. You both continued enjoying the forum when your phone buzzed.

You look beautiful today. You’re my favorite thing to study. Can’t wait for today’s art experience. Meet me at the Laguardia Place entrance immediately after the talk. Sunlight is precious.

You were his favorite thing to study!

You waited on the edge of your seat until the end of the summit. Then you were up and walking out toward the entrance post haste.

The hair on the back of your neck raised when you saw Steve watching you from the door of Rosenthal Pavilion.

His smile when you made eye contact knocked the breath out of your lungs.

In that moment, you realized that you were in love with Steven Grant Rogers. 

Holy hell.

His deep voice greeted you as you arrived.

“I’m anxious to get started.”

Steve searched your face and found a different look from the partially closed off expression you’d showed him since Thanksgiving.

Your face was open and trusting. His heart did a funny thing in his chest. It was almost too good to be true.

Could you love him, too?

He tempered his mood with sensible words, filling the space that he wanted to fill with romantic declarations.

“I’m going to take you to my favorite artistic landmark in the city. I’ve loved it since I was a boy.”

You smiled up at him and took his hand.

“Let’s not waste any more time.”

—--

The driver that was taking you and Steve to your meeting place was the same one who picked you up from the airport. The one that your cousin knew so well. 

You stared at the back of his head and then glanced over at Steve. He raised his eyebrow at you because of the look on your face. You grinned back, then leaned forward to tap the driver on the shoulder.

“So… Nico…” 

Your eyes cut over to Steve with a mischievous look. His heart beat out of his chest at the joy you were serving him along with your chaos. 

“You ever drive my cousin and Bucky around the city?”

Nico stole a look at you and smiled.

“Yes ma’am. All the time.”

“Do they ever do the nasty back here…?”

Nico laughed heartily as Steve shook his head.

“Peach…”

You shushed Steve.

“Hush, I’m trying to get the dirt. Now Nico, tell the truth…”

Steve sat back and listened to your unhinged behavior on the drive over to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. Your spirit and your laugh made him warm inside, despite the cold day.

—-

Nico stopped the car at the Washington Avenue entrance to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Steve got out, shouldered his backpack, and then reached for your gloved hand with his own.

For some reason, you felt like a princess as you stepped on the path. The air was crisp, and there were traces of snow lingering on the ground.

You came out of the car chattering and laughing, making Steve’s heart light.

“I know Nico wouldn’t crack, but I could tell from the way he went red. Those whores….”

“Literal Freaks,” replied Steve. “Bunny is an appropriate nickname for him, because he and your cousin…” 

Steve shook his head and rolled his eyes, although he fantasized about christening the backseat of the Lincoln for you and him.

The wrought-iron gate creaked softly behind you as you entered the Garden, and you looked around in wonder as the gravel path crunched beneath your boots. A magnificent metal and glass structure was in front of you.

“This is the Steinhardt Conservatory. Wait until you see the inside.”

Steve smiled and took your hand as you stepped through the glass doors into sudden warmth shaking your head at him. 

There was a heavy scent of flowers and a haze of the waning rays of sunlight beaming through the glass panels overhead. It gave everything golden highlights, including you and Steve. 

You squeezed his hand as you looked around in awe. 

“Beautiful,” you murmured.

And then you noticed that he was looking at you. 

“Yes…”

You grew warm as you looked into his gorgeous blue eyes.

“It’s like a completely different world in here.”

“It’s our world for the moment. Just you and me.”

He wanted to add the word Forever, but he didn’t. You felt it though.

You started on an indoor path and Steve pointed out the unique flowers and plants in his warm baritone. You were impressed, again, with how much he knew.

Steve Rogers was not a stereotypical mobster. This was a man who followed a path in life that landed him where he didn’t want to be and was trying to make up for it. 

As he spoke, Steve drew you into his enthusiasm, and you found yourself smiling and relaxing, asking questions and marveling at the vast indoor space. 

When you came to a small alcove furnished with a wooden bench and beneath a sprawling magnolia tree, Steve stopped and took his backpack off his shoulder, and then taking off his coat and draping it over the bench as you did the same.

"Please, sit." 

His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the subtle command.

You hesitated. 

"Why?"

"So I can sketch you."

Your stomach did an odd little flip. 

"Here? Now? I wanted to see your sketches, not be your sketches."

You performed on stage in front of hundreds with barely no clothes on and you were so nervous to let Steve Rogers sketch you with winter layers of clothes on. What was wrong with you?

Steve raised his eyebrow and his gaze swept up your body slowly, making you shiver. Clothes couldn’t stop the intimacy of that look.

“Too late for that.”

You raised your eyebrow at him and you felt irrationally happy. Steve had drawn you.

“Do you not trust me?”

You regarded him, guardian your reaction because you didn’t want to seem too eager.

“I do Steve. I trust you.”

It was true.

Steve smiled. 

“Then please, sit down.”

You gave in with a sigh and lowered yourself onto the bench. 

"Fine," you muttered. "But no weird artistic liberties. I better have a nose."

Steve chuckled, flipping open the sketchbook. 

"I make no promises."

You watched as he proceeded to balance the sketchbook against his bended knee. Then he looked at you seriously, holding your gaze for a moment before his attention returned to the page, and his pencil began gliding effortlessly across the paper. 

His thick fingers were surprisingly agile, moving with long, sure strokes. But then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised, with the way his fingers had previously made you feel…

For a few moments, the only sound was the soft scratch of his pencil against paper. 

You attempted to sit still, staring at the plants around you. You also tried to pretend that you weren’t aware of the way he studied you with that relentless focus, switching his gaze between you and the sketchbook.

After a few minutes, Steve made a soft noise, something between a hum and a chuckle.

“What?” you asked, turning your head and narrowing your eyes at him.

“Nothing.” 

He didn’t look up. But he spoke.

“It’s just... you’re trying so hard not to move, but you’re fidgeting anyway.”

You caught the hint of humor in his tone and it made you a little too happy again, so you decided to cause problems. 

"Well, maybe if you didn’t look at me like that.”

"Like what?" 

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, looking up at you quickly, then back down.

You fidgeted again.

"You know…"

Steve chuckled, deep and low and shook his head.

"Oh. Am I ‘sparkling my eyes at you again?’”

You scowled at him and he laughed.

“I'm an artist, Peach. I study form." 

His eyes traced up and down your body, lighting you on fire again.

You clenched your thighs together to fight the flow of arousal threatening your thighs. This was dangerous. Steve was dangerous.

"You're insufferable, Steven."

“Well, can you suffer on a little longer, so I can capture more detail?”

You cocked your head in that adorable way.

“What details do you need?”

“I need…” 

Steve looked at you like he needed all of you. 

And he did. 

“I want to capture the way your nose crinkles when you're annoyed, or how you're gripping the bench like you're about to get up and run.”

You unclenched your hands and sat back.

“You’re making me nervous.”

He tapped his pencil against the sketchbook. Then he looked down again to continue drawing.

"Interesting."

"What is?"

He licked those red lips of his and your eyes tracked the movement.

"The fact that I make you nervous."

The way he was looking at you made butterflies riot in your stomach. That special electricity was buzzing around you both. 

Suddenly, his pencil stopped. Then, without warning, he reached out, brushing his fingers beneath your chin, tilting your face slightly.

You stiffened.

"Hold still," he murmured. 

His thumb ghosted over the curve of your jaw and settled at the edge of your throat.

Your breath hitched.

Steve’s eyes were dark now and his voice was softer when he spoke again, but there was an edge to it now, hinting at something rough beneath the surface.

“You always do this?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“React like this when someone touches you.”

You pursed your lips together and shook your head. 

Just you.

"You’re doing it again," he mused as he stroked the side of your throat with his thumb.

"What, Mr. Rogers?"

You were about to combust. He clenched his jaw and increased the pressure of his fingers on your neck.

"Fighting it."

"I- I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"You do," he intoned, his voice stern.

"Don’t hide from me, Peach." 

Your pulse beat beneath his fingertips.

"You think I don’t notice how you react to me?" 

Steve’s hand grasped your throat, pressing more firmly before he let go.

"Hold. Still," he murmured, those blue, blue eyes stormy.

His fingers tilted your face up with authority now. You froze for a moment as his thumb came up to pull your chin down to open your mouth.

“Breathe.”

He slowly pulled his hand away and you had to stop yourself from chasing his touch. 

Steve clenched his jaw, trying to restrain himself. If he had to guess, you were wet and ready for him to do whatever he wanted to you right now. But he willed himself to be patient. 

He picked up his pencil again, rolling it between his fingers, like nothing had happened. 

"Good girl," he offered to the page as he returned to his sketch.

Steve knew what he was doing. Knew exactly how much he affected you. You waited impatiently, clenching your thighs together desperately as his pencil continued to scratch on the paper. 

"Done," he said, as he lifted the sketchbook toward you.

You gasped as you looked at the page. 

The drawing was stunning. Steve had captured you with uncanny accuracy, from the curve of your parted lips to the shading of the different colors in your eyes. The hollow of your throat seemed to pulse, and you could almost see the indentations of his fingers. 

The portrait was beautiful. And it told you everything you needed to know about how he felt.

“This is… how can I thank you?”

Steve’s heart flipped in his chest as he reached out and grabbed your waist, pulling you toward him on the bench.

"Steve…"

His eyes went to your mouth.

"Say that again," he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Your whole body was burning, but you stayed quiet. You were paralyzed with the possibilities.

"No? Too shy now?"

His voice made you impossibly wet. If you gave in, you were about to get everything you didn’t know that you wanted. And that scared you.

You let out a shaky breath. 

"Steve."

Something flickered behind his eyes. Something hot.

“Have I told you that I love the way you say my name?”

His hand came up again against your side, slowly, more deliberate. His fingers moved over the curve of your side, and slid against your breast, his thumb ghosting over your nipple.

He continued, tracing over your cleavage and finally landing against your throat again, pressing against your pulse and driving you crazy.

"You're shaking," he murmured, voice low, thick with need.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and gave you a kiss against your throat. And he lingered, lips warm against your skin, before pulling back just enough to smile against your skin.

Your whimper told him so much. 

"You act so tough, but you’re so easy to ruin."

You raised your arms and pulled him close, fingers playing at the nape clutching the hair spilling over his collar.

“You made me this way, Steve. And I don’t want you to stop.”

His now dark blue eyes searched yours as his fingers tightened on your waist. 

“What does that mean, Peach?”

He’d pulled you closer, his eyes on your face as he waited for your answer. The anticipation was so much. He huffed and then dove into the curve of your neck, inhaling and tasting you there, as if he couldn’t help himself. His large hands palmed your breasts, pressing your nipples insistently.

“Oh…my….Steve!”

You squirmed in his grip.

“I asked you a question. Do I need to stop touching you so you can answer?”

“Please, no, Steve. Need you...”

You were the queen of changing the subject.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

His lips were on the curve of your jaw, so close to your lips. You whined. He cocked his eyebrow, the question not so silent.

You huffed, making your decision to go for it as your hands came to the side of his face so that he knew your intentionality. You wanted to look into his eyes when you said it.

“Moment of honesty? I want you Steve. I feel…I want to be yours. Really been yours since you put your hands on me in Atlanta. I can’t categorize or control this feeling. So I’m giving in. Are you ready for the chaos that is me being yours?”

Steve’s eyes lit up and he reached for you, pulling you into his lap as his lips crashed into yours. His hands were everywhere. He tugged you closer as he kissed you and both hands came down to grab your ass and pull you onto his erection. His desire for you was apparent.

When you broke apart, you chased his lips and then kissed him again, greedy.

“I’ve been ready. Been yours for a while, now Peach. Since the day I saw you…”

His voice was gentle and he was looking at you like you were fine porcelain. You felt so safe in his arms. He pulled back to look you in the eye.

“And this feeling? This is exactly how it should feel when it's meant to be.”

He kissed you again and his mouth took possession of yours in a way that was tender, yet full of promise. 

“I gotta let you know that if you’re mine, I’m gonna give you what you need. When you need it. Do you want that? Do you trust me with that?”

This was the important question.

“Yes, please. I want that, Mr. Rogers, sir. And I trust you.” 

"That’s so fucking hot… but I’m trying to behave. Even though I reserved the pavilion just for us, we’re still in a public place,” he murmured. 

His voice was calm, controlled. But those sea blue eyes told a different story.

"You call this behaving?"

You rolled your hips against his cock. Steve kissed you again and let out a sexy chuckle, then stood you both up, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"If I wasn’t," he murmured, "you’d already be begging me for more." 

You linked your arms around his neck and looked up at him as the cutest woman on earth.

“What if I don’t want you to behave? Like you said, you have the pavilion reserved. You can bend me over the bench and fuck me raw. Right here.”

Steve’s pupils took over his eyes and his jaw clenched. Your stomach dropped as he looked as if he was about to do just as you suggested. But he took a deep breath and smiled.

“We’ll explore that kink later. Our first time needs to be in private.”

Steve reached for your coat and helped you with it before putting his own on and gathering his things. He took your hand and led you out and across the grounds. He pointed to a familiar building. 

“Your hotel is right there. Or do you want me to call Nico to take us to my place?”

You looked up at Steve as your breath vaporized in the cold air.

“We need my hotel. I’m ready. Right now.”

—--

You were in your room again, not entirely sure how you arrived, the journey through the park hurried and full of anticipation. You weren’t thinking too hard, you just knew you needed Steve. Immediately.

You were pushing his coat and blazer off his body and feeling his chest. The steady thrum of his pulse tapped a staccato in your palm.

“Your heart's beating so fast,” you whispered. 

“You do that to me, Peach.” 

“Really?” you questioned, suddenly unsure of yourself.

“You have no idea how much power you have, do you?” 

“Me?” you asked in a small voice. 

Steve nodded.

“You drive me crazy. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.” 

It was confession time.

“It’s you that has the power, Steve. I can't stop thinking about you. Your voice gets me there.” 

You felt tongue tied as you told him your raw feelings, all the while taking off your and his clothes. 

“Sometimes I — I think I'm going to cum just from hearing you speak. Today, at NYU, I could hardly sit still. You're like a drug, pulling all my attention.” 

Steve’s shirt was off now and you were in your bra; he pulled you near him to get his mouth on you.

“When I'm near you, I'm so hard it aches.”

 “Really?” you whispered. “Are you aching right now?” 

Steve groaned as you pulled back to unzip your skirt and take off your boots. He leaned back against the wall and palmed his crotch over his pants. 

“Like you wouldn't believe.” 

Steve couldn’t believe that he had you here like this, giving yourself to him. He had to tell you the truth.

“Look at me, Peach.”

You looked into his eyes.

“I’m In love with you.”

His rough voice pulled an involuntary sound from you. 

“You're mine, Peach You always have been.

Your breath caught in your throat and your heart thudded against yor ribs.

“Oh god, Steve. I- I love you too.”

Your smile blinded him. If he blinked it was because of that. Not that he was going to cry. 

Not at all. 

He laughed as an expression of joy and then your lips met.

The kiss wasn't soft or sweet. This was feral, sharp, and intense. You moaned into his mouth, sucking his bottom lip into yours as he unhooked your bra.

“I fucking want you,” you whimpered into his mouth. 

Steve smiled against your lips.

“Good, cause I fucking need you, my sweet Peach.”

Steve stood, looming over you, all big and fucking magnificent. The vision of him, all lithe muscles covered in smooth skin, and light feathering of hair making its way down his torso, between the defined planes of his abs and into his waistband, was… Good Lord.

You licked your lips, mouth instantly dry. 

Steve’s mouth hooked up on one side as his fingers worked his belt and fly. His pants fell in a matter of seconds, and there he was, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs.

Steve was all thick thighs, and long, powerful legs, his hand slowly stroking himself over the sizable bulge in his underwear. 

You gaped at him. 

Then, he pulled his underwear down, eyes on your face for your reaction. It was classic, your mouth hinged open and your eyes were like saucers. There was no way anyone could be that perfect.

His dick was long and wide, at least eight or nine inches, and curved eloquently (if a dick could do that) against his abs. It was so pretty and your mouth watered for it at the same time your pussy clenched, as you were thinking he was correct. You would struggle to take him.

His smirked deepened as he reached for you and pulled your panties down slowly, his short fingernails scratching your legs and making you shiver.

For a moment he just stared, drinking in the sight of you spread before him

“Fucking sublime,” Steve breathed, the words filled with reverence. 

“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby.” 

He leaned over you and set about doing just that, kissing you deep and filthy, tongue diving to claim every inch of your mouth. You cried out, scratching at his broad shoulders as he suckled and nipped, worshiping your breasts until you were mindless with sensation. 

Steve took his time tracing your torso with his lips, teeth and tongue, learning your body and  paying attention to every sigh of pleasure as he climbed down your body.

The press of his mouth to your pussy made your back arch, and a ragged moan escape your mouth. Steve growled into you, the vibrations running through your soaked cunt.

He parted your pussy lips with his thumbs, and dove to lick your clit with the hot velvet of his tongue. 

Slow, thorough licks made you writhe beneath him. 

“That’s it,” he whispered, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Ride my face, Sweetheart. Fuck my mouth ‘til you cum all over it.” 

You arched like a bow as he latched on to your clit and sucked, two thick fingers thrusting deep to stroke along your inner wall. His practiced fingers found your g-spot and massaged it ruthlessly, curling and scissoring until you sobbed his name.

“Love when you call my name, Peach.”

He looked at you like you were something to be worshipped, and then continued what he was doing. When Steve bit down gently on your clit, your orgasm crashed over you in a burst of white light. 

You shuddered through the aftershocks, trembling as Steve lapped at your folds. Each lick sent a jolt of electricity through you, on the edge of too much. 

Rising to his knees, the thick, heavy length of him rose up again, even more swollen and glistening at the tip. 

Steve notched the thick head of his cock at your entrance and his eyes crossed as he slowly sank into your tight, dripping heat. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

Inch after thick inch, he claimed you, stretched you, with a delicious push/pull of pleasure/pain. His length was one thing, but his girth was everything.

When he bottomed out, you both groaned at the intensity of the connection. He looked you in your eyes as your hearts pounded in sync, your breaths mingling as you got used to his size.

“I’ve never felt so full, Stevie…”

You quivered in his arms. And he knew that he was utterly possessed by you. It was more than just physical; it was an overwhelming sense of rightness. 

“Perfect,” Steve rasped.

“So fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart. Like you were made for me.”

He dropped his head and trailed open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, pausing to suck hard at your pulse point. 

“Please,” you whimpered, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable. “Move.”

“As you wish.” he whispered, brows knitted together. 

You whimpered and your hands grasped the sheets as he started to move. He bent and sucked your nipple hard, causing a jolt of electricity through your body. Your brain was cloudy and you scratched his back as your eyes shuttered closed.

“Open your eyes, Peach,” Steve ordered darkly. 

As he looked you in your beautiful eyes, Steve couldn’t hold back any longer. He started increasing his pace until he was fucking you roughly, pushing your knees to your chest. 

“Yes.. feels so good Steve. Oh my godddddd, fuck me!”

Steve’s eyes roamed your body as he did as you asked. Your beautiful breasts bounced. The bed knocked against the wall and you gasped for breath, your face transfixed on the eye contact between you and Steve.

He was lost, one hand gripped your hair, and the other braced on the headboard. He fucked you hard, grinding against your clit with every stroke. 

You were whimpering, on the verge of screaming as you two made noise up and down the hotel hallway.

He leaned up and grasped your throat, gritting his teeth as he asked a question.

“You want me to cum inside you? You trying to have my baby?”

“Unnnnnnghhhh! Maybe….” 

You opened your eyes and pouted up at him.

“Paint my walls, Steve...”

Steve choked on air as he spurted hot cum into your welcoming pussy, but he pulled out, shooting the last jet of cum on your clit and pussy lips. Then, like a heathen, he bent between your thighs and started licking. 

You sobbed, writhing as he devoured you. 

“Need to eat you more than anything, my sweet, sweet Peach. 

“Steve, Stevie… oh my god!” 

You clutched his hair, tugging sharply. It was too much.

“Oh my God. Please Steveeeee!” 

He raised his head, grinning as you fully collapsed, limp and spent. Your pussy was tender, your face flushed, your eyes gleaming. 

You were beautiful.

You looked at him and shook your head as he took you in his arms. 

“Are you mine?” 

“Yes,” you whimpered out. 

“I would die for you, Y/N L/N,” Steve murmured against your temple, panting. He held you tight, carding his fingers in your hair.

“I promise to keep you safe, and give you everything you need, I promise you that.”

“I believe you, Steve. I trust that.”

—

You and Steve stayed up late, ordered room service and talked about a lot of things, music, your parents, his friendship with Bucky, Nat, and Steve, everything.

You laughed and cried, and then settled back in his arms in the dark to sleep, his hand rubbing your hip as his breathing began to slow.

“Steve, can I ask you a question?”

It had been nagging at you for a while.

His sleepy voice answered you.

“Shoot.”

You chuckled.

“That’s just it. Have you ever… have you ever killed someone?”

Steve stirred, pulling you closer to him and moving his mouth next to your ear.

“Hmmmmm. I’d have to marry you before I answered that question.”

Your heart slammed against your chest and your eyes went wide in the dark.

“What?”

You tried to keep your voice even. You didn’t know what this feeling was that came over you. Steve continued, seemingly calm and not spiraling like you were.

“You can’t be compelled to testify against your spouse. It was a joke, Peach.”

You were silent for a good while.

“Oh.”

Steve stirred, leaning up against his elbow.

“Do you… are you saying that you want to get married?”

Steve thought about the ring that he had at his penthouse.

You laughed.

“Nah… what we looking like just up and getting married like that? We hardly know each other.”

“True. But when you know, you know.”

Steve kissed you and the small amount of logic in your brain was rapidly dissipating.

“Would it make us look crazy…?”

You could sense Steve’s smile in the dark.

“…Or would it be so beautiful?” He replied.

Steve wrapped you up in his arms and settled down again. Your mind spun as his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm and you spoke again. 

He was probably asleep, but you had to get it out.

“If you ask me, I’m ready…”

The light switched on and you were staring into the beautiful blue eyes of Steve Rogers.

——

I’m so anxious about this one! Please let me know how you feel? Reblog, comment, like. TIA!

[gangstalkerbarbie]

Yes, you don't owe anyone your time and intimacy. These things are freely given to people whose company you enjoy. They're not a reward for performing the mechanical actions of courtship correctly, they're a logical consequence of two people mutually liking one another on a profound human level. Courtship is a game between two people who already like each other, and the thing is that there is no reward, the reward is getting to spend socially sanctioned time together that could lead into nesting and raising children. The win condition of dating is a pair bond capable of weathering life and maybe sustaining childrearing, which for most people involves sex because it's fun, bonding and is what leads to children. The win condition of dating is not mechanical sex for mechanical sex's own sake.

The thing that progresses dating into greater seriousness is therefore also not a kiss, not a handy, nothing — you can do all of that with whoever you're dating, I don't care, but call me a boomer idk, the period of time that you're in love is supposed to be safe and fun for both parties. The progression of a relationship is about trust, which dies instantly the second dating is no longer both fun and safe.

If feeling safe and having fun does not, in your heart of hearts, include being alone together or handies or head for you (and let's be honest with ourselves, it often doesn't, no one really thinks these kinds of risks to her reputation and human value are fun and safe; when girls engage in these behaviours it's because they live in a bizarro world where for some reason horny boys are allowed to set the rules of mate choice and girls are taught to value being wanted above anything else), that should be respected. If it isn't, stop dating this person.

Lack of willingness to respect women's nonconsent (and telling you not to be a prude is, in fact, disrespect) leads to rape, which used to often lead to children out of wedlock whose lives were doomed to be miserable, which is why so many patriarchal cultures wrote not being in private with unwed women into ritual or customary law and usually tied in metaphysics.

Even back then, people knew that rape can be a profound sociological trauma with very far-reaching consequences and wanted to keep their children from experiencing it, and their grandchildren from living whatever life these circumstances gave them. Not everyone alive in a prevailing social climate agrees with it, but they do all know what the consequences are for acting like it doesn't exist.

And after marriage too, you may not always have the right to say no, but on principle you deserve it just by existing as a human being. No still means no even with a ring on it.

I would (and I have) stop talking to a guy even at the implication of any entitlement to sex; in my culture it's normal to be a virgin until 24 or older nowadays, because marriage is a very long commitment, and sex is always a risk for the woman, and no shit she has the right to discretion. If he wants to gently try to wheedle or pressure you into sex while you're still reasonably in the public eye as a distinct person now, imagine what he'll do when you're married, you're in private together with no witnesses all the time, and his grandma thinks he's entitled to it!

He's not entitled to fuck or damn, but marital rape is much harder to get any recourse for than rape, comma, vanilla (which itself is the farthest thing from a picnic), and not everyone who blogs on the internet has a right to no-fault divorce. Universally applicable advice: either the man you're with is capable of understanding that no means no, or you just don't get into that position with him to begin with. If he has bad vibes, don't give him a chance, leave. If he says or does some weird shit, don't give him the benefit of the doubt, leave. You are always morally in the right for leaving and telling everyone about why.

There may be very little you can do once you're too far in — I'm not saying you shouldn't have the right to leave a bad marriage, I'm saying a lot of people wake up one day to find they don't — so if at all you can choose whether you end up in that position, do everything in your power not to.

There should, also, in principle be standards you should be able to hold men to. Leave if they refuse to be held to standards; they do believe in standards even if they claim not to, just standards only for you. You want the guys that believe sincerely in standards for everyone that you also believe in.

They will be hard to find because their path is thankless and often also considered to be cringe or even juvenile (because very young boys don't know they're supposed to want to hurt women yet, not wanting to hurt women is widely perceived as naive, feminine or infantile among men), but it's the only way to safely be heterosexual. If you need a man (I'm a lesbian but I have brothers I love who feel they need women, and I know full well that it is possible to feel you need a man), pick a good one.

You may be waiting until you're 30, even 40, but the good news is that gives you time to make nesting money and learn who you are, so, you know, different time periods, different priorities.

Secrets of the mothers of Israel or whatever, special for Tumblr: make good choices about your box and hold the men in your life to standards. Otherwise they will make up bad one-sided standards to hold you to and make your stupid box choices for you.

The social coercion women face to date people they’re not attracted to is fucking insane. I remember distinctly thinking “well, I can just force myself to be attracted to him…”

Films, books, etc, all show the trope of beautiful woman and unattractive man. There is still the myth that an unattractive man will treat you better than an attractive one (more women are waking up to this, but still). Even now the left thinks that activism happens between the legs of women.

Don’t date people you’re not attracted to. Don’t feel guilty for not giving them the time of day. No means no.

[grandline-fics]

For your Valentine's Event: Single Red Rose with Benn Beckman. ❤️

DESCRIPTION: Single Red Rose- When your date goes wrong, they come to your rescue

WARNINGS:  mutual pining but it all works out.

CHARACTERS: Benn Beckman

WORDS: 923

A/N: Thank you @thecrimsonacademic for this request for the Valentine's Event! I hope you like what I came up with for Beck. This is my second time writing for him so I'm still trying to get the hang of getting his personality down

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI | VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST

————————

When you’d returned to the Red Force, Benn immediately noticed the extra bounce in your step and unshakable smile. His eyes always seemed to find you regardless of what was going on around him but when your mood was this good, it was impossible for him to not notice. You must have encountered something very fun to do on the island they’d stopped at. Still it didn't explain why you were back so soon. He was one of the few on watch duty. You were part of the group out exploring the island. Curious he stepped up beside you as you made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink. “What’s got you so upbeat? Yasopp get drunk and fall asleep in a flowerbed again?”

“No! It's too early for that, even for him.” You grinned, leaning against the counter while Beck grabbed a drink of his own. “I’ve got a date tonight.”

Not a lot surprised Benn much anymore but that declaration did make him pause and the once delicious mouthful of ale in his mouth seemed to become heavier and harder to swallow. While nothing ever explicit had happened between you both, Benn was very aware of his feelings that had been growing for you to be beyond just crewmates and friends.

You’d both flirted more times than he could count and been affectionate but nothing ever romantic or sexual since Benn believed letting things take the natural course to be the best plan of action. Seemed while he was on the ship and you were out on your own, someone caught your eye. He was a realist to know this wasn’t love for you and this random person. The ship would be setting sail in a couple days, this was just something to pass the time. Regardless of the meaning, the word ‘date’ twisted something unpleasant in him. 

“A date huh?” Beck asked, keeping an air of calm and lightheartedness in his words because the last thing he would ever do was sour your happiness. “Hope they’re able to show you a good time. You deserve it.”

“I hope so too.” You smiled warmly as you finished your drink and sighed with a light shrug. “But if turns into a bad time, I’ll not cry over it. They’re cute, but not that cute. I’m going to get ready.” You stepped away and walked towards the door only to stop and quickly turn to look at Benn warningly but still with a touch of playfulness in your stare. “And if Shanks asks-”

“I know, I know. ” Beckman chuckled, knowing the last thing you'd want on a date was for Shanks to lurk nearby or tease you and disrupt things. “I won’t say a word until we set sail.”

“You’re the best, Beck.” You beamed before disappearing down the hallway to get ready for your night.

It wasn't long after you’d left to go meet your date when Lucky and Hongo returned to allow Benn and the others remaining on board to go out and see the island and have some fun. Beck knew he wouldn’t need to search far to find at least someone in the crew, knowing their lively presences would make themselves known without any effort. He was right because someone in the crew did appear, he was just surprised to see it was you and even stranger still you were on your own and the bounce you had in your step earlier was gone. “Hey you.” Beck greeted, his voice snapping you out of your thoughts. “What happened?”

“Guy never showed.” You explained with a small shrug. “Left a message that had he known I was a pirate he wouldn’t have asked me out.”

“You’re kidding.” Benn asked with eyebrows raised and a disbelieving shake of his head, some people were so gutless. “I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologise, Beck. Like I said he was cute, but not cute enough to cry over. I just wish I hadn’t wasted my time getting ready for it to go to waste.” You shrugged, smiling softly at Beck’s sympathy. “Have a good night. I’ll see you on the ship.”

As you moved to head in the direction of the ship you were swiftly caught by Benn’s hand and stopped. You looked up at your crewmate and let out a sigh to see him looking at you with a serious look. Truthfully you weren’t in any way hurt by what had happened. You’d mostly agreed to a date with someone else because you thought it would take your mind off of your feelings for the man in front of you. Now you hated that he looked upset on your behalf.“Beck, honestly I’m fine.”

“Fine or not you look too good to let it go to waste. C’mon you wanted a date, you’re getting a date.” Benn instructed, leading you back towards the town. When you opened your mouth to protest he grinned at you. “Don’t worry I’ll make sure you have fun.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” You huffed out with a smile, finally letting him lead you wherever he wanted. “Fine, I’m curious now to see how Benn Beckman operates on a date. Show me what you got Beck.”

“Oh that’s a tall order.” Benn laughed, adjusting his hand to lace his fingers with yours. “Y’see to really get the full experience it’ll take a lot more than a single date. Could take a long while.”

“That so?” You grinned walking side by side with him. “I’ve got the time.”

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall , @redwolfxx , @jevoislesbrasdemer , @schanwow , @pao198391 , @glitchtricks94 , @nina-ya @48daisies , @rosemary-lungs

[tls12lessthan3]

*looking disdainfully at orv top kudos page* kdj doesn't even fucking hate himself in these

anyway, have you made a fic rec post? I would love to see some well characterised orv fics but I don't know how to find them and you are the only person who knows hsy personally through prophetic visions :DD

i have not made a general orv one! im honoured you trust my taste enough to ask though honestly i'm not the biggest kim dokja angst fiend so im unsure if you'll get what youre looking for. still i'll give it a shot

i am the dreadful need (and the devotee) - i have recommended this before and i'm doing so again. a vaguely orpheus and eurydice inspired story focused on the inevitability of looking back. it's technically yoohankim but mainly a sort of yoo joonghyuk character study that i highly enjoyed

The Act of Creation - a post-epilogue tranfem yoo joonghyuk fic that is a fandom classic (to me at least) by my dear mutual! a very sweet fic and a good extrapolation of many of the trans themes/moments in yoo joonghyuk's story

The cough that won't go away - an adorable hanahaki au ( i shant spoil who between) set about 10 years post epilogue. made me laugh a lot and captures a lot of the warmth in the relationships in kimcom

the false last act - top 10 fics that make me wanna puke and throw up and die and kill myself and die again. slash pos. really good epilogue fic!!!

The Scars of Dreaming - a fic centred on conversations between oldest dream and kim dokja carried out over a period of time as they both try to adjust post-epilogue.

and you will find your way in any given storm - thee na bori/lee jihye fic as far as im concerned.

what the living do - another good epilogue fic. epilogue fics tend to be a favourite of mine im realising.....what can i say im fascinated by that time in their lives and i think this fic portrays it well

Moments that the Words Don't Reach - another epilogue fic this time focused on han sooyoung taking care of yoo mia after yoo joonghyuk leaves for space. when i say this devastated me beyond belief i am not joking. i will be thinking about the scene on the subway forever and ever

a couple general author recs are:

stuffandsundry has a lot of good fics but i especially recommend this selencroft fic, this 0th turn fic, and this 999th lee jihye fic! theyre all short oneshots that capture moments of relationships in orv that make my heart hurt

namci is another i recommend, they have a lot of good oneshots that i think i've recommended before. alternatively making me cackle and nod thoughtfully at character analysis. i would especially suggest this yoohankim university au

sonasona is an orv veteran and has a delightful array of works to show for it. what remains is a particular favourite as i adore cigarettes and the metaphorical implications thereof

i'm sure there are others im forgetting right now but these are more or less the best from my bookmarks so..hope you enjoy :)

[memlelandian]

TW//Pedophilia mentions, doxxing, slurs, general disgusting behavior

Here's a call-out post that I didn't think anyone would see from me.

1/?

It's about this user who goes by OhSoStupid, LorenzoLHI, and LHI2010 (as far as I know). He is a user known in the Mii Community and the MySims community.

I want to spread awareness about this user because I've heard from a mutual they got spammed and raided by accounts on DeviantArt, in which they harassed them, accused them of being a pedophile and liking porn, and just spamming disgusting comments. I will get into why Lorenzo has something to do with these accounts.

Screenshots below (Victim's real name censored for their privacy) (ALL SCREENSHOTS BELOW DO NOT BELONG TO ME)

Ofc one of the accounts had used one of Mario's pfp and their real name in their username, which is likely to trigger them. And just accusing them of pedophilia for whatever reason? Like no, he did not hurt your younger brother numerous times. And the other account just being a fucking weirdo towards said user. I will get back to Lorenzo again, because the mutual who got raided by these accounts had a feeling that these accounts were made by Lorenzo.

Another screenshot below with Lorenzo's main DA account:

This is due to the spam and weird comments (could arguably be for humor reasons, but still weird), and accusing Mario for loving porn like the other account.

It doesn't seem to be clear on why Lorenzo is targeting Mario on this, though he speculates that it could be because of having Lorenzo banned from the MyServer discord and "spreading rumors about him" due to evidence of Lorenzo making disgusting and problematic posts on his old DA account (which was still from 2024 btw) (Also, this is the ONLY interaction Mario had with Lorenzo btw)

Yep, there's more evidence of Lorenzo being a weird, and because of this, they likely raided Mario's DA to get back at him and making tasteless and out of pocket accusations of him.

Full screenshots of evidence here below.

This is a major reason why Lorenzo was banned from the MyServer.

Apparently Lorenzo says he created a new one because of the iffy content he posted.

You understand and admit what you posted was weird, and then get called out and banned from the MyServer, and try to get back at Mario because he apparently said you are banned from the MyServer due to members getting disgusted by his behavior, and that he "spread rumors about you", and all this just to get revenge on him? How fucking petty can you be?

And also, by the time of typing this, a friend of mine got confirmation that Lorenzo DID raid Mario's DA. HOWEVER, he wasn't the only person to do this, apparently someone named Max got involved and also helped troll Mario.

Max's involvement also extends on Youtube, commenting "fart", accusing Mario on loving porn again, and being a weirdo and harassing him.

Mario also posted evidence on Lorenzo and Max's behavior incase they get deleted

https://youtu.be/sCu-UvXux1w?feature=shared

This just pasts beyond the point of "trolling", because, again, why just attack someone over getting rightfully banned for disgusting behavior on DeviantArt?

Hope this is enough to spread awareness on this user. Please know that I tried to put as much as I know into this post because this is fucked and a call-out post had to be made. If you see this post, please share it. And do not interact with this user. Report him, block him, and spread this post around as much as you can. Please do the same with Max, I do not know his socials so I can't rly put them here, but still.

Please give me more updates on Lorenzo if you know any more shit that he has done so I can understand more what he has done.

[permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88]

oooh, thanks for the tag, @iwanderbecauseimlost!!!

so I, too, was introduced to Tolkien through my dad. as a kiddo, he'd been thoroughly obsessed with all of the books, reading them over and over again (and watching the animated film), and he was absolutely committed to getting me to at least give it all a try. not entirely sure exactly how old I was when I first read The Hobbit, but I know what house we were living in at the time, so I must've been somewhere between 8-10 years old? and I freaking loved it.

for some reason, I didn't read Lord of the Rings until I was in 7th grade (pretty sure dad jumped on this because of the PJ movies coming out). but I fell in love with those, too, and then by the time I'd seen the movies I was absolutely hooked. obsessive. daydreaming and wanting to talk about Tolkien all the time, to anyone who would listen (and yes, crafting the worst possible unpublished fanfic in my mind, that, thank goodness, never saw the actual light of day 😅).

as far as The Silmarillion goes, I tried. oh boy did I ever try, but I couldn't quite get into it (at least the first few times attempts were made). my dad is still absolutely on the 'I need to read it' bandwagon, though, and since I've now added Rings of Power and PJ's The Hobbit to my arsenal, I'm starting to get the itch to try again. we'll see what happens, I suppose?

like OP, I am so beyond grateful for all of the lovely mutuals I've gained because of a shared love of Tolkien! and I really can't wait to see where the next year (and season of RoP) takes us!

no pressure tags: @haladriel, @thiddleston, @catz4ever, @zoya-olenko, @orehuna, @niennawept, @bigblissandlove1, @ohno-elrond, @saurongorthaur9, @lady-wyrd, and anyone else who wants to join! (many humble apologies if any have been tagged elsewhere, and I just missed it!)

Okay.

Something that brings all of us together is our love for Tolkien's work, and its spinoffs.

So, question: What got you into Tolkien?

I'll start.

When I was 12, my father urged me to read The Hobbit. So I did, and I was mesmerized by it, to the point where I'd stay up in the middle of the night to read it. I never got beyond that, though.

Two years ago, I decided to reread it, and I fell in love all over again with the story, characters, Tolkien's writing style, everything. So I decided to read The Lord of the Rings. I got the first book, read a couple of chapters.. and gave up. It was too verbose, too prosaic.

The next year, that is, a few months later, I tried my hand at it again. This time, I got through four chapters, but I still couldn't read the rest. Then.. I began crushing on a guy who'd read it, and so I grit my teeth and went for it. I read, and read, and this time, I found myself enjoying it. Bonus, the guy and I got into conversation.

After finally finishing the first book, I even started the second, and watched the first movie with my family. (By way of flirting I asked the guy whether he liked PJ's Trilogy, and he told me he "found them low budget" so that, um, ended. I'm no longer crushing on real people.)

I read the second, the third book, reread The Hobbit a third time, watched all the movies, and joined Tumblr. Then I got motivated to read The Silmarillion. I'm currently working on that, as well as my Tolkien collection.

Honestly, one thing that fuels my love for the work is all my lovely mutuals who I've gained through this love.

So.. no pressure tags: @gauntletgirlie @wowstrawberrycow @valar-did-me-wrong @balrogballs @ghost-of-morrowbright @gingeragenda @greenleaf4stuff @dragon--ashes @dwarveslikeshinythings @numenoria @onebillionblorbos @zaldritzosrose @varda-star-queen @the-bogginses-are-gay @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @daughterofthesunlands @princessfantaghiro and anyone else I've missed/wants to join.

[xesnox]

(Post fall) Ancient builder x Illager toxic old man yaoi when

WIP, was planning on doing a ref for every human race but a mutual of mine practically begged me to post these two on their own so you’re probably gonna see this image again. Colors are not yet where I want them to be so I’ll definitely go over it a few more times.

I’d like to take this moment to point out that the way you summon allays in legends, where you play as an ancient builder, is pretty similar to the way evokers summon vexes.

Design / AU rant below cut, as always.

This one’s a little worse written than usual, I’m just rambling.

I practically have an infinite amount of Ancient builder designs because I draw them differently with every piece depending on how I’m feeling, but for this design I got more genuinely speculative and turned on my pattern recognition.

Steve and Alex are canonically 6’2, both of them, and all undead mobs seem to be the same height, if not taller than they are, so I made them average around 6’5. To add to that, all undead builder mobs either don’t have eyes or have solid coloured glowing ones, so I went with the latter.

Minecraft isn’t a stranger to making lifeforms appearances change drastically depending on circumstance, this render is of an Ancient builder post wither attack, around ancient city time, which meant I could adopt the idea the devs mentioned about villagers/illagers, of human skin turning desaturated if they stay out of the sun for long enough, which, if the single generation of Illagers already show signs of I bet the god knows how many decade long underground escapades of the builders probably hit ‘em hard with that trait.

I also for the longest time for some reason forgot cosmetics were very likely a thing, so they’ve got some protection spells and luck enchantments tattooed, both of them do. Doesn’t work very well, as one can probably guess. But they’re superstitious so it felt in character enough.

For the post wither attack Ancient builders I also tend to think of them as more frail, not only because they had no access to their former overworld food supplies and had to rely on the little stuff that did grow in complete lack of sunlight underground, which definitely wasn’t a lot, but also because beyond the military force that did seem to remain from the nether war (ancient city structure name: Barracks, disk 5 marching.) they definitely were no longer strong enough to properly defend themselves against the wither or the warden/mourner on their own accord.

And because they were cowards and skedaddled when the overworld was in danger AND got beat up by the piglin despite being the main kingdom in power which I just find really funny. So think tall and boney but hiding it under a lot of clothing layers to still appear strong. Definitely can’t put on armor anymore though, that back would snap like a twig.

When it comes to the robes I used some of my older armor template designs for reference, made them black and blue to fit the most well known ancient builder sprite as well as vaguely match the one of the evoker. Because, oh well, you caught me, I do believe the cargo cult theory. Got my own interpretation but I’ll leave it at that till the next bestiary entry.

I generally want the villagers to look more varied, and human, while the builders, both neo and ancient, look more unsettling, as if they’re clearly a person, but something just looks, or moves wrong. They’re too symmetrical. Too far removed from what once was flawed but sincerely their own.

A lot of villager beauty standards are inspired by medieval-renaissance era Europe, like for an example having a larger visible forehead and appearing more boxy in shape being seen as more visually appealing, I think despite the illagers trying to subvert that they do still live in a society, so having grown accustomed to it as children they probably still at-least somehow adhere to the beauty standards they know, whether consciously or not.

They perform similar experiments on themselves as the builders, they’re just ever so slightly worse at it, as they haven’t been doing it for as long, so it leaves marks like scarring or visible stitching, though I believe they wear these with pride.

There’s gonna be a dedicated post about them at some point, as I said so I don’t know how much of my design I want to pick apart for now, but I’ll just leave it at that for now.

Here’s some alternative versions.

[improperfrog]

Spoilers ahead

Astarion is not evil, you just don’t understand him or what trauma can do to people. 

I can’t even begin to comprehend the level of trauma this man has. People can get severely traumatized by one bad event in their life, now imagine 200 years of them. 200 years of pure shit.

People who were abused sometimes become abusers - then they feel like they’re finally the ones in control and in the position of power in this dynamic, no longer the powerless victim. They feel like they regained their power by becoming an abuser. 

People can become abusers because they don’t know what a healthy relationship looks like. They may believe relationships are built on domination and not mutual respect. That there’s always a hierarchy - someone always holds power and they’ll do anything not to be the victim again.

People who were abused will sometimes feel better when someone else suffers abuse - then they’re finally not the ones on the receiving end of it. Finally they get a break. They may fear that if they interfere, the abuse will turn back at them, so they’ll comply, even abuse others themselves, not to make that happen. Standing up for others always ends up with severe punishment from your abuser.

People who were abused and weren’t helped can feel resentment and envy towards those who were helped. They’ll feel angry that when they needed to be saved so badly, nobody saved them. They were all alone, while all those other people had a helping hand reach out to them. They might not want to help. Helping other victims can also be a trigger that reminds them of what they have gone through.

Astarion doesn’t want to ascend for fun, he wants to ascend, because he has this false idea that when he does, he will finally be safe. That this will ensure nobody will ever be able to hurt him again. But that won’t be the case. He may feel strong and he may actually physically be strong, but that won’t erase the mental destruction he’d faced. He does this because he’s terrified. In his head, he still will be that until he processes his trauma and comes out of it healthier.

Ascending him emphasized some of his traits - this is why he will try his best to turn you into the spawn, or won’t let you break up with him or become an equal vampire - he will use his power to stay in control in your relationship, so he will never be the weak one again, nor can he be abandoned again, nor can you turn on him*. That only shows that ascending didn’t help his mind, it only helped his body. 

Astarion can become ‘evil’ if he lets his trauma win, but he’s not evil yet. The time frame of the game is far too short for him to process his hurt (especially since he doesn’t get to sit around and think - the group is in constant action, traveling and fighting, doom lingering over their heads - hardly a good environment for therapy. He’s in constant survival mode*.), and expecting him to simply become a nice, helpful teddy bear quickly is unfair and unrealistic. Let’s not perpetuate the ‘perfect victim’ standards on traumatized people. They’re not perfect and after what they’ve faced, they should be expected to be.

*An example of that fear is shown when we meet the hunter that’s after him, and Astarion says that we should kill every hunter we come across, except maybe Wyll. It’s framed in a joking manner, but it’s actually rooted in fear. He does fear Wyll (and presumably others) could turn on him. He confirms so when you romance him and he says his plan was to make you develop feelings for him, so that you don’t turn on him. 

[serukaiz]

i’m not sure if you’re taking requests but i’d love to see your take on bully!keisuke or overall mean and nasty keisuke <33

thank you so much for the req, darling! i had fun writing this. my requests are still open! i’ll go ahead and mention that in my pinned. i hope this is to your satisfaction <3

♡ 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘!𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄.

💢 MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT!

⚠️ warnings: smut, heavy dacryphilia, sadism, masochism, the whole thing starts because he blackmails you, he’s an evil asshole in this, he hates you but does he really, degradation, MEAN SHIT!!!

ⓘ this won’t be centered around him in school or college. think of it like you were unfortunately introduced to him and he decided you’re the one girl he wants to cause pure misery.

you’re a friend of mikey’s. he’s got this one companion — best friend — keisuke baji. 

he’s strong from what you know. tall, muscular. dark eyes and a brooding demeanour, a voice that sends chills down any person’s spine. a total hunk. he’s got nice taste too.

you haven’t interacted with keisuke much. barely at all, actually. you’ve seen him once or twice. he’s not someone close to you. not someone as easy to talk to as mikey’s other friends. you’ve never had any relations with him, neither conflict nor a tender moment. he was just… there. always in the corner of your eye, always somewhere in your line of sight. 

that shouldn’t matter much. it wouldn’t have. you’ve seen a great deal of good-looking men in your life — not a single one quite as unique and appealing as he is, but… attractive still. there was certainly something special about keisuke, no doubt. you felt a sense of exhilaration when he came by. possibly the fact he can snap your spine in a heartbeat if he so wished.

i’d tell you he would never do that. that he’d never be cruel to you, but he would be. he has been. he is.

after the first time you met, he started lingering. you saw him far more often, he was like a phantom. right in your vicinity, just out of reach. you thought your interaction with him would go nowhere, he’d leave you alone and forget about your existence for the rest of his days.

but he didn’t. in fact, he approached you. multiple times. and it got nastier. every. single. day.

he’d shove past you, not even bothering to apologise. you weren’t the first person he’d look at in a room — you didn’t realise it so. the way he’d speak to you, condescendingly and sharp as if you’re some nuisance, it hurt. he’d roll his eyes the instant you open your mouth and he took a sick amount of pleasure in seeing that dumbstruck, disappointed look on your pretty face. 

conversations with him were short. they always left your mind bleeding, racing. he was unpredictable. you wanted to figure him out. you had to. but it was so difficult, because keisuke is not as simple a man as most would think.

 his subtle torment on you started the third or fourth time you’d met. you were with a few mutual friends, hanging out and having a decent time. keisuke went to get some drinks for everyone and he’d purposefully spilled yours on your clothes, apologising so half-assedly that mikey himself was a little shocked he’d be so impolite to a girl.

what no one realised at the time was that keisuke wanted a glimpse of 

you. sure, he’d stalked you a little before, but he hadn’t seen your bra in such a… lewd fashion. he just wanted to humiliate you as well. ‘what a slut,’ he’d think, ‘wearin’ a bra like that in front of everyone. who the fuck does she think she is?’

and as soon as that thought clicked in his head, he knew something.

he felt far too amused at your suffering. it made his heart which many thought to be good, skip a beat. he couldn’t bring himself to feel remorse for it.

that look of embarrassment on your face, the shame. he needed to see more. he had to recreate it.

so he did, over and over, with new methods each time, until one day… he had the perfect leverage.

you were hooking up with some guy. unnamed, a loser no one gave a shit about. he wasn’t the point of attention, however. you were. and keisuke just had to grab this opportunity it, hold it over your head. the guy was recording. you really were such a slut, letting him do that with no qualms. no smarts at all, how naive. although seeing you have something so intimate with another person annoyed keisuke beyond belief, the bliss of having something to blackmail you with and get you to do favours in exchange was absolutely intoxicating.

once that lame session was done and over with, the idiot left your house and never came by again. keisuke jumped him somewhere you no one could see, beat him bloody and snatched the recorder right out of his ugly little hands. he told him, “i’ll break your fuckin’ fingers if you don’t shut the fuck up,” and the man complied, but keisuke broke them anyway. he made quite sure he wouldn’t be ratted out.

now, he knew how to initiate this new level to your so-called bond. he’d never been to your place before — actually, he did, you just never knew. what? can’t a guy check up on his favourite plaything? give him a break.

you came to your room with a deafening shriek, panic overtaking your entire body at the sight of that brute leaning against your windowsill and listening to… porn..? with the most nonchalant expression on his stern face. he didn’t even flinch at your scream. you swore you could’ve passed out from pure fear that day.

“how the fuck did you find my house?!”

“you’re actually such a loser. you still own this many plushies? if i lose hearing ‘cause of your dumb little mouth i’m gonna snap you in two ‘n rip your stuffed animals in half next, so shut up and c’mere.”

you obeyed, anxiety and terror dripping off of your frame. that made the corners of his mouth twitch.

with an indifferent air to his movements, he turned up the volume to the max just to fuck with you some more, and showed you the video playing on his phone.

your heart dropped.

you, buried in the sheets, moaning like a whore. he caught that on video. keisuke baji caught that on video — the man who has been dying to have some form of leverage on you, he fucking had the video! you knew you shouldn’t have trusted that bastard you had sex with!

“pfft… you moan so loud, goddamn. surprised your neighbours didn’t complain to ya. you don’t have any standards, huh?”

“how— how did you get that video?”

his lips curled into a sneer at your obvious question. “how do you think, dumbfuck?”

you swallowed shakily. he almost cooed at how your glittery lips quivered, how tears made your lovely eyes shine.

“what’re you gonna do with it? w-what do you want from me?”

“hah,” he snorted, smiling for only a second before dropping it. “asking a good question for once, that’s surprising. got your brains fucked back into you by that loser? i need ya to do a couple things for me.”

he suddenly tugged at the ends of your hair, balling your tresses up in his fist. you whimpered at the sharp sting of pain, and he smiled cruelly. his face lowered above yours, breaths mixing.

“you’re gonna get on that bed and let me fuck your brains right back outta you like a good girl.”

after that night, he basically treated you like his personal servant. except, he didn’t make you do much for him. “don’t touch my shit. don’t want your filthy self staining my belongings, you got that?” he’d claim. 

how he thanked all that was holy for the invention of cameras and sextapes. he could make you do just about anything for him and you’d have to oblige because you don’t want anyone seeing your pure facade shatter. keisuke knew from firsthand experience that you were just a slut at your very core, and he never forgot to remind you.

he’d be so brash. in the middle of spending time with your friends, he’d practically grab you by the scruff of your neck. “oi, guys. need this dumbass for a bit,” he’d harden his tone while speaking to you next, “come with me.”

you’d have no choice but to follow along, acknowledging the pitiful glances a couple of the guys would send you. and in the following minutes, you’d find yourself on your knees in the middle of a dirty alleyway, choking on the raven-haired devil’s pierced cock like it was the last thing you’d eat. what a mess he’d turned you into, over the span of just a few weeks. you couldn’t comprehend the gratification that only you could give him. no one else could hold a goddamn candle to you. keisuke’s favourite toy, but he’d rather skin himself than admit it. he had a reputation to hold up and a pretty girl to torture, after all.

he’d rarely be gentle with you, if ever. he fucked you behind a toman meeting spot once, while the gathering was going on. up against the grimy wall or bent over his bike, you couldn’t quite remember. both, you think. you’re not sure because your brain was so fuzzy from how full he made you feel. he certainly had the size to back up his audacity. he was hissing at you to keep quiet, but didn’t even bother covering your mouth. no, his greedy hands were occupied with your tits, manhandling and fondling like they were made of dough. to him, they basically were.

he hadn’t taken you out on any dates. if it was ever just the two of you, it was going to be a hook-up, with a mind-numbing amount of pain and pleasure. usually, he’d come to your house, with or without your permission. he’d fuck you until you’re weeping as much as your pussy is, lick at your tears and spit in your mouth. he stayed over once or twice, laughed to himself at how you went out of your way to make him pancakes in the morning. even when he was treating you like a grain of dirt underneath his boot, you were so sweet. it was so cute. especially when he called your cooking disgusting but still proceeded to wolf it down. after that, he asked — forced — you to cook breakfast for him each time he’d come over. 

it left you with a mess of emotions every time you saw him in your abode. he looked out of place but made himself right at home. seeing him brushing his teeth with your toothbrush in the morning, clad in just some low-hanging sweatpants and a goddamn cross necklace shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did. you scolded him, only barely keeping arousal out of your angry tone. he didn’t give a shit, though. don’t think he doesn’t notice the way you stare at his massive arms.

one of his favourite things to do every time he came over was pin you to the counter as soon as you were done or while you were cooking. especially when it was for him. did you really expect keisuke baji not to fuck you on the counter when you were dressed in such provocative clothes, let alone cooking for him like you’re his wife? he hates that idea, and at the same time wants it badly. you’re so frustratingly cute.

he doesn’t visit you much, though. you look forward to meeting him to the point it’s pathetic, and you hate yourself for it. what’s so damn good about being fucked by some burly, mean delinquent with long black hair, and a broad frame, and… an entrancing caramel gaze, and… and a sickeningly good rhythm and a voice that— oh, stop it! you can’t be swooning for a goddamn bully like him!

 when you’re out and about, keisuke barely even acknowledges you. he doesn’t look at you when you’re talking, maybe an occasional roll of his eyes, but he’ll practically ignore your existence unless he wants to humiliate you in a different way. he’ll even pretend to forget your name sometimes.

“hey, baji, have you seen [name] anywhere?”

“who?”

“[name], are— are you not friends with her?”

“nah. don’t know who that is.”

“i’m here!”

“[name]! thank goodness, i was looking for you.”

“oh, this [name]. should’ve specified it was her. the dumb chick who can’t seem to keep her ass under her skirt.”

“excuse me?”

“hm?”

“uh… i-i’m just gonna go. [name], mikey needs you. he’s over there.”

it makes your blood boil, how keisuke so openly degrades you. and at the same time, you can’t get enough of it. 

you can’t get enough of how he’ll keep a vibrator inside your panties and have the remote expertly tucked in his pocket while you’re having dinner with your friends. the pink object is nestled perfectly against your clit, and you’re struggling not to roll your eyes back. keisuke, the asshole he is, will turn up the settings too high for comfort as soon as you try joining the conversation. you’ll never have a good day with this man around. he won’t reveal a damn thing, too, so everyone except him is concerned about you when you’re trying so hard to hold in your moans.

one night he’ll have his face buried between your tits, filthy groans erupting from his mouth as he drills into your soaking cunt, the next afternoon he’ll shove his broad shoulder against yours with enough force to make you trip and not give you a damn glance afterward. you don’t know it, but his eyes are actually trained on you all the time. he’s just got incredible instinct and a poker face.

he’ll kick your legs apart and flip your skirt up out of nowhere, take you on his bike and drive too fast for your poor heart to handle. when you show any fear during that death ride, he’ll scoff and call you a pussy. in reality, he just craves the way you cling onto him so tightly. like he’s your lifeline, which he is when you’re on the verge of crashing on his motorcycle.

you can’t tell if he’s repulsed by you or wants you. it’s a terrifying mixture of both, you bring out the sadist in him and he’s not going to deny himself of that pleasure. he’s not a monk, for fuck’s sake. he’ll take what he want, whether you like it or not. he’s got a hunch you do, considering the way you stare at him with the most intoxicating look of fear and desire and look away the instant he catches you. 

stupid, stupid girl. thinking you’re so slick. he knows you far too well. he knows when you’re flustered, when you’re trying to defy him and failing miserably, knows how to draw tears from you and he knows how to hit that sweet spot in your pussy over and over until you make his wide back bleed with scratches. he’ll smack you for leaving them, informing you that he’s not your boyfriend and you shouldn’t leave marks on him like he is, but the way he wears them like a badge of honor contradicts him fully. his hypocrisy pissed you off so badly because he leaves bruises and bites on you all the time, and he doesn’t see you complaining about it, does he? well… he does. but unlike him, you can’t do a damn thing about it. you’ll just have to take it all like a champ because you’re his now. that knowledge makes your heart ache, and… maybe between your legs, too.

© all rights reserved. 𓏲ּ🍒

[queer-ragnelle]

ngl, i don't understand why arthuriana gets a bad rep for incest. mordred in vulgate and malory aside, i can't think of any OTHER instances of incest. even then the incest arthur committed is quite literally and explicitly condemned in both. Like gee, i wonder what the dream arthur saw meant.....

+ mordred isn't even an incest baby in other medlit as far as i'm aware of? please feel free to correct me if i'm wrong. i don't understand the obsession in modern arthuriana to add MORE incest that wasn't even there. and even worse, to be pro-incest. like what? did we read the same books???

it's TH White and MZB's fault, we've been knowing. but still.

Dark themes under a cut obviously.

Imagine thinking Arthuriana has excessive incest when Greek Mythology is right there. It’s quite literally Marion Zimmer-Bradley’s and T. H. White’s faults. THW started it with Morgause choosing to rape Arthur to become pregnant with Mordred, also a little side incest with Agravaine’s attraction to his mother and ultimately killing her out of jealousy or some shit. Then MZB comes along in the 80s and has the “Old Religion” trick Morgaine and Arthur into sleeping together.

But it’s gotten so much worse since then I’m afraid.

Even media I love and still recommend has this issue. Henry Treece wrote Gwenhwyfar/Arthur as siblings in one of his books. Mary Stewart wrote Morgause seducing Arthur knowing their relation and then later she tries to start something with her teenage son Mordred. Sharan Newman wrote Morgan seducing Arthur knowing they were siblings and then her son Mordred has an ongoing sexual relationship with his aunt Morgause. Persia Woolley wrote Morgause seducing her brother Arthur and mocking his trauma about it then Guinevere’s cousin Maelgwn raping her. Lavinia Collins wrote Morgause madly in love with her brother Arthur and then Mordred raping her, on top of that Collins combined Ector de Maris with Ector the father of Kay, so Lancelot/Kay are uncle/nephew and have a life-long sexual relationship fully aware of this. Merlin and the Sword (1985) has Mordred and Morgan in a sexual relationship, he even calls her “auntie.” I could go on but I won’t.

The point really is that these creators can make whatever they want but if people try to “justify” the dark content because of one instance of incest in the legends, that’s a stretch at best. Write your stories however you want I don’t care but it does ruin otherwise great books/movies for me personally. Like nothing in the story would change if that aspect was taken out, it’s not as if the stories are really dealing with the psychological traumas of these acts, it’s rarely a theme. (Persia Woolley did make sexual abuse a theme, I’ll give her that, she absolutely dealt with it related to multiple characters, I just hate evil Morgause and the rape of Guinevere was excruciatingly detailed.) Incest is often just a shorthand to show a character is especially evil, like if they kicked a puppy, but for some reason they go to an extreme of sexual violence when none of these medias are in the horror genre where they belong and none of them confront the implications of such things. It’s wild to be enjoying a romance or adventure story and then get blind sided by an incest sex scene or worse a rape. Like why.

For all the faults in Arthur Rex by Thomas Berger I appreciate how the situation was handled throughout the book, firstly showing Arthur and Morgause had a one night stand mutually and neither knew the truth. Then Arthur was so anxious about what happened once he found out that part of his attraction to Guinevere was borne of knowing without a shadow of a doubt they weren’t related. Later, Arthur was kind to Mordred when he arrived at court but the shadow of what happened followed him for the rest of his life. The text doesn’t demonize Morgause for this, for cheating on Lot sure but it wasn’t something she planned. She was a spy and shit happened, she wasn’t an aggressor. Alternatively I liked that Bernard Cornwell and Edward Frankland both wrote Mordred as a brother of Arthur instead of son or in BBC The Legend of King Arthur where Mordred is Arthur’s nephew, the son of Lot and Morgause just like big bro Gawain. It can be done one way or the other just write something meaningful. Adding this shit for shock value is getting so old.

[shawnbetancourt]

~~*~~

Shawn did live, much to someone's disappointment she was sure. But just because she had lived through that first attempt didn't mean they wouldn't try again. In fact, she was certain they'd try again. It had worked with so many other people so far considering it was unlikely that any of the missing people were actually missing. It wasn't worth mentioning to Julie though, they both knew that very painful truth. All she could do was offer a very reserved and crooked smile.

"How'd you-" Shawn cut herself off. Of course Julie knew. It was ridiculous for her to think that her best friend hadn't noticed not matter how much Shawn thought she was being subtle. Hell, she hadn't know herself until very recently. She finally just laughed and shook her head, "Yea. Yea I mean Tim." Her cheeks were still warm but her brow furrowed, just because she was thinking about a certain cowboy didn't mean it was mutual. Plus they all had so much on their plates lately, should she even be thinking about this. The only real explanation she had was that a near death experience made you think about what you were missing in life. "Is that crazy?"

Shawn's hands on her own were an anchor. To say that Julie wasn't worried would be a lie. The brand and the Cowboy Mafia wasn't a decision most people made in their right minds -- most of them didn't really have that opportunity due to whatever chain of events led to the cowboys on their doorstep. Shawn was a bit of a different situation, though, but who would ever say they wanted a life of crime for a friend? Someone who wasn't actually a friend most likely. She nodded, though. "I can understand that -- even if you're not one of them, they didn't earn it did they? You lived."

She lived and now they were here. As Shawn flushed, tips of her ears turning pink, Julie felt like the clouds overhead were fading. This felt normal, less heavy. Suddenly, they were teenagers back in her room in Meema's trailer on a Friday night talking about boys. Julie smiled despite herself.

"You mean Tim?" Julie asked. A series of muddled memories came to mind. Tim and Shawn were similar personalities and she remembered always noticing the two of them off to the side talking about anything and everything. There was something to be said about watching two kindred spirits. "Right? Or have you been holding out on me with all the messes going on?"

[izzy-b-hands]

I keep forgetting I can't seem to get the current version of xkit to work on my new laptop and going to do stuff that it let me do fjldksafjdlsaj

[esmesketch]

HONK if you're still deep inside the Far Cry 5 hole trap in 2024 and can't escape.

[anannoyanceofjackofsmiles]

"Historically, the [bloody mary] divination ritual would encouraged young women holding a candle and a hand mirror in a dark room. As they gazed into the mirror, they would supposedly catch a glimpse of their future husband. But, there was a chance instead they'd see a skull or ghastly visage, signifying they were going to die before marrying." -Bloody Mary Folklore

So, during a VC one day me and @thevioletscout were talking and joked that Poor Edward would function Very nicely as a type of Urban Legend, Bloody Mary-esque character. I mean look at his name.

And during that same call (or around that time frame), roughly at the same time we had the idea of what fankids of Poor Edward would look like from our respective PCs. So. Here's Helen Wolff! And why, you may ask, is she doing a divination ritual...?

Well.

Girl is getting hassled by suitors at 15-16 and is probably the Most aro-ace person in the entire Neath. So I joked for a long time she'd overheard rumors of a divination ritual to see her fate in marriage, and Celebrates when she thinks she sees a representation of death. Truly, the only time someone would actually be Happy seeing Poor Edward.

And no, she never learned about her mirror dad. Sawyer Wolff kind of ensured she'd never learn about him. But you can't avoid every mirror in London, now can you?

[fitpacs]

,