#not on this one! do not roleplay with me here

[drdemonprince]

Re: what do dominant people need to recover after a harder-kink session?

Biggest things that helped me were taking some time afterwards to sit together, talk with her about what she had or hadn't enjoyed, just some reassurance that she knew I respected her IRL and that I only was willing to manhandle her in various ways because it turned her on, that I wouldn't ever purposefully do anything that she wasn't ok with, and so on. Basically just trying to get back into that soft/loving/protective mode, rather than rough/aggressive/etc

TBH, it's been a long time since I've had kinky sex, or any sex so I don't know what might help the best at this life point.

Something that I'm a bit nervous about wrt aftercare is having her confirm that she enjoyed it and wanted whatever we did to happen, but me going on some kind of shame spiral of worrying that she's just doing a fawn response and saying that because she wants to reassure me.

My current solution for that is that I'm just pretty tight about what types of harder kinks I'm willing to do at all, even if the woman says she wants it and enjoys it. Even if I might sexually enjoy certain types of CNC, for example, I kinda don't feel mentally/emotionally comfortable acting that kind of scenario out. Ignoring "no's" or getting really physically threatening, even as a LARP, are just things where I don't know if I can explore them in a way that won't make me feel like a bad person.

-------------------------

Had an experience of this type that I had early in my sexual career and which went really badly, but idk if it's the kind of thing that you really talk about on here.

cliff notes: haphazardly established cnc, it was her idea, but I thought it'd be hot in the heat of the moment, she got really really into it and horny for it, I (man in the aggressor role) tapped out once it started feeling kinda real, I had a huge emotional crisis, we had a giant fight about it. It was not a fun weekend. We were too young and bad at communicating for that kind of thing, but also too horny and dumb to not try it. Rough combo.

Mostly just funny to try to explain to people that I was roleplaying the aggressor, and I was also the one of the two of us who had a panic attack.

--------------------

TBH, I had a lot of problems as a young guy with feeling guilt over how my sexual urges were bad or dirty in some way due to my libido being directed towards women.

I'd managed to internalize a really dysfunctional blend of messages about sexuality, growing up in a liberal family in a very conservative state. Like, when I was a teenager I felt guilty about things as benign as "liking doggy style", "enjoying receiving blowjobs", and "fantasizing about getting with two bi girls". The latter was a fantasy that I had like one time as a teen boy, and I felt so guilty about objectifying bi women that I was almost sick to my stomach. I was a weird teenager.

I did develop some kinks that are probably coping mechanisms or ways to avoid the guilt of being sexually forward, now that I think of it, as well as the anxiety of needing to make sure she's enjoying it.

While I am dominant-leaning I'm very much into being begged for stuff. The more I can trick her into begging for what she wants, and directing the encounter as the bottom, the better. Saves my attention and focus for doing a good job of getting us both off rather than having to decide what's gonna happen next.

Never understood the hate for submissive women who "top from the bottom", it's incredibly erotic to me.

omggg anon you sound like such a sweetie with such hot fuckin kinks that you also are so wound up about. understandably so of course. here are some of my thoughts.

"worrying that she's just doing a fawn response and saying that because she wants to reassure me"

I think you can get around this fear by being open-ended in the feedback that you request from subs. So, for instance, you can tell subs that one thing that you need as a form of aftercare and ongoing negotiation is for them to give you a reflection of their experience a day or some days afterward. This can happen in a conversation or via them keeping a journal or something similar. Ask them to describe what they liked, what they'd like to see go differently, what they want more of. This will get you a lot of feedback that is reassuring without you specifically having to ask for reassurance and feel like you're manipulating the conversation in some way.

I think once you have established a really good rapport with a sub and can communicate with them effectively (and TRUST them to tell you when things aren't working for them), then you can say, straight up "I feel like an awful person sometimes after doing CNC/etc, can you check in the next day to tell me you're doing okay and that I'm not evil?" Or whatever else you might need.

I get you very much about the gender political baggage that comes with wanting to be a Dominant man with woman partners... from the opposite side of things. One barrier to fully enjoying my kinks pre-transition was that I considered it totally socially unacceptable to be a "weak woman." I wasn't even especially feminist, it was more about not being taken advantage of and being worthless. I came from a cultural mileu in which women were expected to be strong and capable and practical, and in academia, women were similarly pretty no-frills and had to appear confident. I felt like being too passive would be unattractive or make me less human, almost. One way to get around this was transitioning. It was really a hell of a hack for this. I don't feel bad about being a passive hole getting used anymore, and I don't have to worry much about the motives behind my partner's Dominance... they're not seeing me as a gender stereotype of a woman anymore and so i'm freed of all that. For cishet couples, I think affirming one's shared feminist values etc is helpful for everyone involved, and clarifying that these roles are not inherent they are chosen.

My current dog handler/mommy interestingly needs a partner to beg for their cum before they can bust a nut inside someone. I don't know if it is for similar feminist/consent hesitation reasons because they're pretty good at letting loose on me otherwise, but they've articulated to me that it's a thing that they need. This was initially a challenge because we do pup play and I become really obedient and nonverbal. But we have found ways for me to signal to them that I want what they are doing and that i want more of it.

So for example, a few nights ago after they were really whaling on me for a couple hours, they stopped and said I'd been a really good puppy and they were going to give me a break. But I didn't want a break. I wanted them to cum in me. So when they rolled me onto my side, still inside me, I started wriggling against their dick and licking their hands and whimpering for more, which made them get really hard again and then they fucked the shit out of me for another 15-20 minutes before spraying a load way up in me. It was incredibly hot and tender.

Wanting your subs to beg for treatment from you is a great way of working with your anxieties and making an ongoing consent affirmation into a hot activity and another act of submission on their part. It's a great move. There's a few other things you can do as well when that fails. For example, when my Dom/mommy thinks that I might be getting too headspacey and zoned out of being fucked they will ask me to fuck them -- they'll stop moving and i have to hump at their dick and take it in as deep as I can get it myself. That shows that I'm still alert, motivated, and interested as hell in whats happening. just a really fun hot way to check in and get reassurance without breaking scene. I'm sure there's so many other options.

I hope you get to have fun out there with the kinky bisexual topping from the bottom women of your dreams!

[ruewritesoccasionally]

Hey babe, Can you do a origin story on how the reader or Terry got obsessed with each other ? And how their relationship is going currently?

pairing: dark!terry richmond x black reader

warnings: dark themes, smut (18+), deception, power imbalance, voyerism, possessiveness, obsession, roleplay and implied noncon/dubcon fantasy elements

word count: 2K

a/n: ahhhhhhh dark terry - my favourite. i didn't wanna rehash previous fics i had done so i hope this turned out okay !

how it started:

The engine sputtered. A harsh, grating sound that sent frustration rippling through her body as she twisted the key in the ignition again. Nothing. Just the futile whine of a car refusing to cooperate.

She exhaled sharply, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She had places to be.

Pulling out her phone, she searched for roadside assistance, fingers tapping with growing irritation. The estimated wait time? Two hours.

"Oh kill me now!" she muttered, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat.

As if on cue, headlights appeared in her rearview mirror, illuminating the dim roadside with a golden glow. The hum of a powerful engine slowed behind her, and a familiar truck pulled up alongside her stranded vehicle.

She squinted through the window, and the tension in her shoulders eased when she recognised the driver.

Terry Richmond.

She didn’t know much about him beyond the surface-level pleasantries they had exchanged in passing. He was just… around. A neighbour? Maybe. A local? Definitely. Someone who existed on the periphery of her life, always within reach but never close enough to question.

The window rolled down, and his deep, smooth voice reached her ears. "Car trouble?"

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Yeah. Just my luck. Won't start, and roadside assistance is useless."

Terry nodded as if this was expected. "Pop the hood. Let me take a look."

She hesitated. She wasn’t naive—accepting help from a man, even one who seemed familiar, always came with a level of risk. But then again, what choice did she have? It wasn’t like she was going anywhere.

Flicking the lever, she watched as he stepped out of his truck. His presence alone was commanding, the way his broad shoulders flexed under his jacket, the purposeful way he moved. He propped the hood open, inspecting the engine with a practiced ease that suggested he had done this plenty of times before.

"Looks like your battery cable’s loose. Could be the alternator, too. But either way, you’re not getting far like this."

Her stomach sank. "Great. Just great."

Terry straightened, wiping his hands on a rag he had pulled from his pocket. "I’ve got tools back at my place. I can fix it up for you if you want a ride. Won’t take long."

She studied him for a beat, weighing her options. On one hand, she could sit here for hours, waiting for a tow truck that may or may not show up. On the other, she could take the offer of help from a man she had no real reason to distrust.

And maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the fact that his expression held no urgency, no pressure—just quiet assurance—but she found herself nodding.

"Alright," she relented. "Guess I owe you one."

Terry smiled, slow and knowing, as he opened the truck door for her.

"You have no idea."

The ride back to Terry’s place was quiet, but not uncharged. The soft rumble of the truck’s engine filled the space between them, but it was the glances—the way he occasionally flicked his gaze toward her, then back to the road—that made her shift slightly in her seat. The heat from the vents wrapped around her like a cocoon, lulling her into something close to comfort.

Her fingers traced the edge of her phone absentmindedly. She had texted a friend before getting in, something casual, letting them know she’d broken down and was catching a ride. No real details. Just enough to ease any lingering hesitation.

“You live far from here?” Terry asked, his voice rich, deep, filling the cabin like a slow pour of something strong.

“Not too far,” she murmured. “Few more blocks up.”

“You want me to take you straight home?”

She hesitated, just for a moment. “I—”

“You should warm up first,” he offered before she could decide, his eyes cutting to her with that unreadable gaze. “Don’t want you catching a chill sittin’ out there all that time.”

It made sense. And the way he framed it, so casual, so considerate—it was easy to say yes.

At Terry’s place, the atmosphere was warm. Almost too inviting.

The space was clean but lived-in, a mix of rugged and refined. The scent of something distinctly him clung to the air—woodsy, masculine, with a faint trace of leather and something smoky.

“You’re a cognac girl, right?”

She blinked. “Yeah… how’d you know that?”

Terry just smirked as he poured, the amber liquid catching the light. “Lucky guess.”

She didn’t question it, not when the glass was pressed into her palm, smooth and cool. The first sip burned in the best way, spreading warmth through her chest.

They talked. Not about anything particularly deep—work, the neighbourhood, the occasional grumble about bad mechanics. But it was the way he listened that drew her in. The way his focus never wavered, his eyes drinking her in as if she were the most fascinating thing in the room.

At some point, the space between them shrank. Small touches—his knuckles grazing hers when he reached for his glass, the press of his knee against hers when he shifted in his seat. Nothing overt. Nothing she could call intentional. But it was there.

“You comfortable?”

She nodded, a slow smile playing at her lips. “Yeah. I am.”

The attraction was undeniable, humming between them like an electrical current. And when he made his move—fingers trailing up her arm, his touch firm but unhurried—she didn��t resist.

The first kiss was slow, exploratory. A test, a tease, a promise of something deeper. Then it unravelled, turning into something more. More urgent. More consuming. By the time they made it to his bedroom, their clothes were a scattered path of surrender.

The way he touched her, the way he moved against her—it wasn’t the fumbling heat of a chance encounter. It was deliberate. Measured. Like he’d been waiting for this. Like he’d memorized her, studied her, known exactly how to unravel her piece by piece.

By the time they collapsed against the sheets, tangled and spent, her mind was a hazy blur. She barely registered the press of his lips against her temple, the way his hands smoothed over her skin as if grounding himself in the reality of her.

She drifted into sleep, thinking she’d just had a wild, unexpected night.

And Terry watched her, gaze heavy, unreadable.

He finally had her right where she needed to be.

The room was bathed in the dim glow of a bedside lamp. Terry leaned against the headboard, watching her sleep, his expression unreadable. She looked peaceful, oblivious to the meticulous planning that had brought her here. He reached over to the nightstand, pulling open the drawer with slow precision.

Inside lay a well-worn, leather-bound journal. He flipped through the pages, each filled with entries detailing every step, every calculated move that had led to tonight. Notes on her routines, the places she frequented, the things that made her smile. The entry from earlier that day was already taking shape in his mind.

February 23rd. The plan worked perfectly. The cable came loose just as expected, right on schedule. Her frustration was predictable. The waiting time for recovery services? Unacceptable, of course. I knew she’d take my offer. She trusts me now, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.

He glanced at her again, reaching for his Polaroid camera. The soft whir filled the silence as the picture printed, her sleeping form captured in the glow of the moonlight. Carefully, he pasted it into the journal, right beside that night’s entry. His fingers trailed over the image, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

She fits here. In my space. In my bed. Right where she belongs.

Terry exhaled, closing the journal with quiet reverence. He slid it back into the drawer and switched off the light, his possessive gaze lingering on her for a moment longer. Tomorrow, he would continue what he had started. But for now, he let himself revel in the victory of having her exactly where he wanted her.

how it's going:

Time had done nothing to dull Terry’s obsession. If anything, it had sharpened it.

She thought their relationship was normal—intense, passionate, but normal. He was protective, devoted, the kind of man who knew her better than she knew herself. She had no idea how deep it went.

He still followed her when she left the house. Still kept a record of her every move. The leather-bound journal on his nightstand had filled with more details, more polaroids—her in his bed, her at the coffee shop, her combing her hair in the bathroom. A timeline of his devotion.

She never questioned how much he watched her. If she caught him staring, she only smiled, shaking her head. "You’re always staring at me, Terry." He never denied it. Just smirked, the dark glint in his eyes unreadable. "Can’t help it, baby."

She fed his obsession without realising it. When she went out, she sent him pictures—sometimes a mirror selfie, sometimes just a glimpse of her outfit. She thought it was harmless, flirty. But to him, it was something else entirely. Proof that she belonged to him, even when she wasn’t by his side.

Then came the night everything shifted.

They were curled up on the couch, a bottle of wine half-finished between them. She was relaxed, teasing, playing with the hem of his shirt. And then, so casually, she said it.

"Let’s pretend we’re strangers."

The words settled between them, a spark to dry kindling.

She had no idea what kind of door she had just opened for him.

The bar was dimly lit, low music humming through the space. They sat at opposite ends, pretending not to know each other. She played the part well—giving him coy glances, pretending to be intrigued when he finally approached.

"Can I buy you a drink?" His voice was smooth, casual.

She tilted her head, smirking. "Depends. Are you a gentleman or trouble?"

His lips twitched. Both.

She thought it was just a game, a fun way to switch things up. But for him, it was more than that. It was reliving the thrill, the chase, the quiet power of watching her, studying her, making her fall into his orbit.

He leaned in, brushing his knuckles over her wrist. "You look familiar. Have we met before?"

She laughed, playing along. "Maybe in another life."

If only she knew how true that was.

By the time they got home, the tension had reached a breaking point. As soon as the door shut, he had her pressed against it, hands greedy, mouth claiming hers. She gasped against his lips, breath hitching as he lifted her, carrying her to the bedroom like he had that first night.

It was the same hunger, the same fevered need. As if no matter how many times he had her, it would never be enough.

When it was over, she lay sprawled across the sheets, her body limp in sleep. The moonlight cast soft shadows over her skin, her chest rising and falling in steady rhythm.

Terry sat up, reaching for the nightstand. The leather-bound journal was exactly where he left it. He flipped to the next blank page, picking up his pen.

March 2nd. She played right into my hands. Just like before. She thinks it’s a game. She thinks it’s just for fun. But this is more than a game. It’s a perfect excuse.

A reason to keep watching her. Hunting her. Even inside our own home.

He reached for his Polaroid camera, snapping a photo of her sleeping form, capturing the way she belonged to him. Carefully, he pasted it into the journal, fingers tracing over the image.

A satisfied exhale left his lips as he clicked the book shut, tucking it back into its place. He slid down beside her, curling a possessive arm around her waist, pulling her close.

She murmured something in her sleep, nestling against him. Completely unaware.

A slow, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips.

Even now, she doesn’t realise. And I’ll never let her.

taglist: @writingsbytee @venusincleo @nickidub718 @notapradagurl7 @theogbadbitch @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @wildcardmelaninfreak

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[cuntyji]

cw: gn reader , nsfw - mdni. link takes you to a [nsfw] reddit post that inspired this :)

choso is nothing if not a dedicated boyfriend. you were the first person he’s ever dated, and while he was still getting the hang of things, he wanted to do everything right—wanted to be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. so when he accidentally found out about your little secret, he took it as an unspoken request.

it wasn’t even on purpose. he’d been lying in bed, scrolling through his phone like usual, when a random post on reddit reminded him of something you showed him before—one of those goofy asmr boyfriend audios you two laughed at together. he had never really gotten the point of them, but they made you laugh, so they were worth listening to.

but then he saw the other side of it, and he saw what you were actually listening to.

at first, he thought it was a joke—some exaggerated, over-the-top roleplay. but the more he listened, the more his ears burned. the sounds were so… explicit, so real, it made something heavy settle in his stomach. he couldn’t believe you were listening to this kind of stuff when he wasn’t around.

was he not enough? or—wait. maybe this was a hint?

he furrowed his brows, replaying the audio as he stared at his dark screen, his reflection staring back at him with an expression that wavered between nervous and curious. was this something you wanted? was this one of those… things people did in relationships? the guy in the audio was all breathy and desperate, making all these slick, wet sounds, whining about how good it felt, how he wished the listener could touch him.

was that what you wanted?

he felt himself get hard just thinking about it, his face heating up as he palmed himself through his sweatpants. it wasn’t like he never thought about it—about you, about being closer to you. it’s just… you’d only been dating for a month, and he didn’t wanna come on too strong.

but if this was what you liked, maybe he could do something for you.

so, with a slightly trembling hand, he pressed record on the voice memo app and let himself go.

he started slow at first, exhaling shakily into the mic as he tugged his sweats down and wrapped a hand around his cock. it was already so sensitive from all the things running through his mind, from the idea of you listening to this later, hearing him just as clearly as he heard those va's.

he let out a quiet groan, his fingers gliding up and down the length of his shaft, teasing himself the way he imagined you would. “fuck,” he muttered under his breath, hips jerking up into his own grip.

he let himself get lost in the feeling, in the thought of you pressing play and hearing him just like this—needy and desperate, panting into the speaker, letting you hear every slick sound, every wet stroke. “wish you were here,” he murmured after a while, voice hoarse. “feels so good. bet you’d feel even better.”

his breath hitched as he tightened his grip, thighs trembling. he thought about the way you’d look at him if you caught him right now—if you saw him splayed out on your bed, sweatpants kicked to the floor, a dark blush creeping up his neck. “you’d help me, right? if you were here?” his voice cracked slightly, and he let out an involuntary whimper. fuck, he was getting close.

he squeezed his eyes shut, body tensing as his stomach clenched. “ah—fuck, ‘m gonna—” the words cut off into a sharp gasp, his body shuddering as he spilled all over himself—over his stomach, his chest, even his fucking phone screen. his chest rose and fell rapidly, mind still foggy as he tried to catch his breath.

but when he glanced down at his phone, he saw the way his release had splattered across the screen, some of it smudging over the ‘stop recording’ button.

his stomach dropped.

“…fuck.”

he couldn’t send it to you like this.

but he still had the whole day, right? he could just… do it again. maybe make it even better this time.

what a shame it’d be if you walked in early from work and saw him like this.

and, well—what a shame that’s exactly what happened.

[pangirlpanic]

Hey y’all!

I wanted to originally keep this behind scenes, but it has blown up as of late. So, I decided to post it on main to clear some things up. None of the information below is fabricated.

Viewer discretion is advised.

Contrary to what some people may be telling you; no, I am not lying, yes, I have evidence, and I have several sources to back me up on this. None of this is fabricated, I am not spreading rumors.

Back in January, a good friend of mine messaged me one day saying that they had something to tell me. Their message entailed to me that a mutual roleplay partner (@/xknightcorex) we had was doing some things that were clearly not okay. I am going to provide examples, since some people think I’m a liar.

Below (middle and left): screenshots provided from said friend, picturing one of Steph/Poe’s now deleted side RP blog for Divus Crewel.

Below (right): screenshot provided also from said friend of twisted wonderland characters depicted in suggestive outfits.

For context, Professor Crewel in the TWST (twisted wonderland) world is an adult. Most of the other characters in the TWST universe are minors, usually ranging from 16-18. I know technically 18 is an “adult”, but still.

So, picturing said characters in suggestive fashion (like seen above) is a little weird, no?

Also, I was not the only one made aware of this, as seen here. These screenshots below are messages that my friend had with another mutual friend on this issue.

(Screenshots provided from a friend): Here, a friend of mine had to deal with Steph/Poe after they were caught. They went on anon and, as you can see, tried to gain sympathy for what they were doing. It did not work.

They also showcased some narcissistic behavior. I’m sure this is not all of it, but these are the screenshots that I have.

Please, stop trying to gain sympathy where it is not due. Maybe instead of venting to the internet, go see a therapist, genuinely.

Before I finish this up, I just want to say that I would NEVER, EVER spread a rumor of this level and not have evidence to back it up. Incest is fucking disgusting. I have a twin brother of my own. Ped0ph1lia is disgusting, I know, I am a survivor of multiple occurrences of CSA from adults.

Steph/Poe, if you somehow see this, then I’m sorry our friendship fell out. I’m not harassing you, I’m making people aware of your behavior. I have never harassed anyone before, and I never will. You. Are not. The victim. Don’t use the excuse “I’m human” to bypass this. I get it, we all make mistakes, but this is a pretty grand one. I am not saying you don't have mental health/medicine issues. I am saying to not use them as some sort of "get out of jail free card".

Also, I hope you get the help you need. I don’t want you gone. I want you to stay alive. So please, go talk with someone. I do mean this from the bottom of my heart.

Thank you for listening.

@nrc-ramshackle-prefect: feel free to add on with anything you’d like to share, or feel I missed. This isn’t all of it, but I hope it is enough.

[gem-morey]

"Yes," Gem said, because he did. Despite the strangeness of this dream, unless the dream had decided to mess with him, he knew where the palace was.

He hesitated, standing there in the strange clothes, feeling like he should say something else.

Instead, he just bowed a little at the waist, feeling silly. "Enchante, Princess Song. À bientôt."

One month later...

Well, this wasn't a dream.

Gem had figured that out on the second day, when the sun set and then rose and he hadn't slept and was starting to feel it. He was dizzy, tired from lack of food and drink. (He didn't think he needed it, since this was all just a very strange, very long dream.) He nearly passed out, was found by a servant, and given food and water. Then, he'd slept on a few sacks of flour in the kitchens.

When he woke up in the same kitchen, hot from dinner being cooked, he went outside. This was some...strange roleplay. Or prank. He just--needed to get back to the fountain. Maybe, if he did, he would be able to get back to his own time.

But he was caught by guards and sent back to the palace after he had lied again.

Dazed and uncertain, he'd found the library and dove into the books. Bound by hand and beautifully scripted. He didn't know what else to do. Eventually, he struck up a friendship with a few of the older scholars. He made up some story about having been robed of his belongings on the way to the palace, which they all seemed to take great sympathy in.

He was taken to the royal tailor and given a few clothes and told to come back to be fitted for the grand ball that was to be held in a few weeks time.

Gem procrastinated, thinking surely, he would be able to wake up in his own time before then.

The days dragged on, however, and Gem remained in 1792. He learned about the unrest in the city. Though, he already knew about all of that. He knew it, however, as the Reign of Terror, and that the King and Queen in their fine powdered wigs and silks had mere months left to live. Half the people in the glittering palace had mere months to live.

And he had, accidentally, found himself among them.

There was no way to leave. Especially because Gem kept wanting to get back to the fountain. He swore it was the way out. How could it not be? If it was the way he'd gotten here...

There was only one person who might be able to help him, but the Princess Snow Song was always surrounded by other ladies of the court. At the elbow of the queen. Or being escorted by her brute of a fiance (the gossip swirled around them, even in the court). The Prince Etienne Myatt was a monster, even by the standards of Louis XVI's court.

There wasn't a moment to get alone with her.

He devised a plan, however. At the ball, it would be hard to refuse a dance once offered. It was simple etiquette. He felt bad about forcing her into a dance, but it was the only thing he could think to do.

So, he'd let the tailor create a costume for him and he'd entered the ball with one goal in mind.

It took longer than he thought, but eventually, he managed to catch the princess as she stepped off the dance floor.

He bowed, as he knew was required. "Princess Song, I was wondering if you'd do me the honor of your next dance?"

[outfit, minus the wig which i knOW is historically accurate but i DONT CARE it's silly looking and this is my romance novel (also just side bar fun fact: this is actually louis xv from outlander lol)]

@lady-snow-flower

Dragonfly in Amber [Valentine's Day AU]🔥[Snow Quartz]

[destiny-in-the-universe]

Alright, so. I’m going out today with family but I was wondering… apart from answering asks for the other blogs- if anyone might want to indulge me on my shenanigans. I’m taking a brief break from making more blogs, but!

I was also like- ‘gee imagine if something happened to OG! Ninja and now Randy has the same thing’ (aka I want to hurt him- not too badly, I just want to be a menace). So~

If anyone sees a new post like that and you happen to see this post too, no you didn’t (unless you’re my roleplay moots-)

I woke up and want to cause problems

ALSO, today’s my two year anniversary with my beloved partner. I can’t for the life of me remember if they have a tumblr, but I’ve never been happier to be theirs- here’s to another year of them and I… and for the many more to come

[gfthe-fearsome-foursome]

What's with Ford's hands? Why's he wearing gloves?

"Maybe someday I'll go without gloves, but that day isn't today."

[valcaine]

*Glides down into you inbox*

I got two things!

Um ok for the first you said you wanted drawing ideas? Mmm have Philza going mock fucking 10 as tech holds a speedometer and ran panics

And also what other cursed birdza/ emerald duo headcanons do you have

Teeth stew anon you have sparked my interest

-I'te

*takes off*

they are trying to see if his wings healed

(they did) (he destroyed the lawn)

cursed headcanons? uhhh philza can and will eat bugs and mice, he is the resident pest killer

[sickfreaksirkay]

my friends and i have started a dnd campaign which is really fun except for the fact that there's one guy in it who hates me and who i hate and he keeps forcing my character and his to interact purely so i have to endure one on one conversations with him. i would be really annoyed about this if it wasnt kind of next level genius hater behaviour

[neon--nightmare]

forest fire by ajj is SUCH a loveball fresh song to me bro

[drdemonprince]

I should probably preface this by saying that this is a genuine question, not an attempt to "own" anyone, not a troll, etc. I'm genuinely curious and interested: Has there been any good scientific studies done on the question "Does having a kink about a 'problematic' subject, reading about it, fantazising about it, roleplaying it, etc., make a person more or less likely to do that problematic thing in real life?" Do you know of any good research papers or articles on the subject? Maybe it's a whole field of study?

I feel like if I ever (god help me) would have to defend a position of "other people's kinks, no matter how disgusted they might make me feel personally, are none of my business" to someone, it would be useful to have some kind empirical science to point towards.

Again, I'm not trying to be a jerk saying "source, please?", I'm genuinely interested in reading about it.

So a good place to start here is in thinking about how this kind of topic gets data collected about it. So if you're wondering about the relationship between, for example, fantasizing about bestiality and actually abusing animals, your primary way of being able to study actual, real-world behavioral outcomes would be to identify a source of data on acts of bestiality...which would almost exclusively come from the police state. If you really wanted to study who actually does commit these acts and what their history was, you'd have to look at people who were convicted for having committed animal abuse of a sexual nature.

The problem is, that data isn't necessarily representative of what abuse actually occurs and how often. The police aren't trustworthy, the carceral justice system is profoundly unjust, not every person gets investigated or tried fairly, and even if all those systems DID operate justly and fairly, you'd still be missing all the people who never got caught. And we know that since these systems are racist, classist, ableist, etc, that they are not 'catching' real offenders from all groups equally. Poor & Black people who have committed these acts are most likely to get caught, rich & white ones least likely. And so the data is skewed.

This is FURTHER complicated by the fact that even if you do look at this data, you are only seeing the people who *have* harmed animals sexually, not the people that haven't, and so that is going to be susceptible to confirmation bias of your prior assumptions and not be representative of the whole population if you use it to draw conclusions. So, for instance, if you look at the porn habits of every person who has been convicted for bestiality, you will probably find a lot of bestiality porn (both fantasy and real) in their histories. Okay, not surprising... but of the average people watching this porn, how many actually go on to offend and how many don't? We have no way of knowing. And because such an activity is so stigmatized (and in the case of real porn, itself illegal), you're going to not be able to get self-report surveys from the general population on this.

If you did try to give out surveys on this kind of stuff, you might be forced to report any of your respondents who did admit to doing something illegal. It wouldn't really pass most ethics boards to do this research at all.

So you can see why this is such a shadowy field of discussion. The thing to keep in mind is that the number of people who do get arrested for things like bestiality, child sexual abuse (especially the kind that is driven by an attraction to children rather than your garden variety case of a parent abusing their power over their kids in multiple ways, including sexual, but the sex is incidental), etc are very small. These are vanishingly uncommon crimes. and we can't really trust the police state to give us reputable information on this. and it is very hard for scientists to study well, and most who study it do approach it in a pretty sensationalistic way.

So, to answer your question, yes you can hop onto google scholar and dig around for studies on 'paraphilias' and their relationship to criminal offenses, but most of it is going to be profiles of people locked in mental health institutions and jails that SOUNDS super scary and fucking disgusting but is not a good reflection of whatever the hell is going on in the actual world. I think it's evident that a hell of a lot more people are fantasizing about this stuff than are offenders. Especially if we are drawing a distinction between fantasy and porn that depicts actual abuse. The people drawing dogs fucking on like deviant art or whatever probably do not pose any actual threat to real animals 99.99% of the time.

And if and when a person with a desire to DOES harm animals, it is because of the legal construction of animals as property that it is possible for them to do so. once again power is the root of the crime. more than a 'paraphilia' making someone like, evil. a lot of this stuff is values based and a philosophical case about how the world works rather than a specific statistical claim. but the number of real offenses that happen are so vanishingly thin that we could barely empirically study them anyway -- it's too small a sample size, and there is no ability to locate comparison groups of non-offenders who share these kinks.

I hope this helps answer your question. Obviously I am using bestiality as one example here but you could apply this to CNC and rape porn, child abuse and age play porn, etc etc.

[thranduel]

i don’t understand why people hate gale.

“he’s annoying” or “he talks too much” or “he’s too clingy and got offended when i was in a relationship” (which was a BUG, it takes two seconds to do some research before jumping to conclusions) are the most stupid reasons to actually hate a character.

he’s the one that has the warmest personality when you first meet him as well, so i just don’t get it?? i’m not saying you’re not allowed to dislike him, and this doesn’t apply to everyone, but SOMETIMES it feels like people just hop on a “hate bandwagon” because i see so many comments (especially on tiktok… where most of the people only started playing because it’s “trendy” now) about him that are the exact same as each other and it’s like people have lost the ability to think for themselves and form their own opinions after actually playing the game properly and learning about the characters.

so many people even go on about how it’s a turn off that he “doesn’t shut up about his ex”… like maybe actually continue playing the story to understand why it’s a significant conversation to have and why it’s a huge part of his character arc, and stop being weirdly bitter/jealous/annoyed when the man is also a VICTIM that has been manipulated and abused in a relationship with a massive power imbalance.

[kayrllylikesblitzwing]

I

Am NOT

DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hi people who see this post I am back I AM SORRY for being so gone my brain got taken over by brainrot for something I’m writing and then when I finally got out of that slump and decided to go back to drawing tfs, I also opened commissions at the same time and then…… BOOM swamped I got a lot of commissions for someone who had never done them before and now I’m just finishing up one big one before I can go back to drawing for myself!!!!!

Anyway here are some low effort low quality shitposts I did between in commission and free time some of these are kinda old ngl and I forgot to slap my logo thing on a lotta of them do OOPS anyway the fun part is I’ve been trying to draw Blitzwing more like hhow he is in animated and tbh that’s kinda fun I love his many designs EXCEPT for the travisverse one because that was not Blitzwing that was a KNOCKOFF!!!!!!

Anyway I, Kay, 1# blitzfan promise I will draw more k swear I swear I swear I just gotta catch up on earthspark anddddddddddddddd yeah commisisnn

Thank WVERYONE who takes the time out of my daay to look at my post I love you I adore y8u you’re pretty cool AND awesome 😊😏😏😏🫡🫡🫡 have a SPLENDDI DAY

[ask-oliver-the-demonom]

Anyways yeah sorry for the late update regarding the auditions for Beetlejuice the musical, I have not been able to keep up with setting everything up recently, and we don't have nearly enough funds to get a proper license or anything. I'd personally happily just pirate it, but I doubt that diavolo would approve of it. So for now to much dismay the musical will not happen this year.

[joonebugg]

No one to play warrior cats ultimate edition with😭😭😭

[mcybree]

Im doing a lot of thinking abt why roleplaying feels different/less natural for me in beastlife s4 in comparison to s3, and i think it’s because there’s ways i know i should be feeling (based on the perception of my character— when i was fresh out of s2 nobody knew enough about my guy to have opinions) vs how i am feeling. I’m catching myself thinking, “it wouldn’t make sense for my character to [blank],” and it’s like… what do i mean by that. what do i mean that this feeling im having in-session “wouldnt make sense for my character” to feel? It might be surprising to other beasts who know me for one thing and expect consistency, i guess?? but in s3 i just acted on feelings and then shit happened. what. why am i trying to enforce a character that does not exist when the strength of mcrp lies in its improvisational nature. I didn’t write this guy on purpose, why am i trying to write him now