#public play should only happen with people who have consented to engage with that play and/or dynamic

[dragonnarrative-writes]

KinkVember 12 - High Protocol

Gary "Roach" Sanderson x Reader, Featuring Ghost, Mace, Gaz, and Soap

Read on AO3

CW: Partial nudity, non-con touching, physical strike (not as a part of established play), kneeling, knives (present, but not used), praise

Notes: Gary "Roach" Sanderson experiences mutism due to injury to his throat. He uses British Sign Language, but he and the reader have established hand signals that are not standard BSL as part of their dynamic. When Roach is speaking, Simon interprets for the people at the table who aren't fluent in BSL.

You tilt your head when you hear a low whistle from the den. You finish the serving platter you're working on with an answering two-note whistle. It's the work of a moment to slide the platter into the fridge and trade it for five bottles of water before setting out to see to Gary and his guests.

You see Johnny, Kyle, Simon and Mason looking at you as you walk in. Their eyes dart down to your breasts and then down to the skirt that you know doesn’t fully cover your ass. You cock one hip for them to admire your bare legs, but you only have eyes for your Dom.

You preen a bit when Gary looks up and almost signs for water, then grins to see you've anticipated his request. When he circles a finger, you step into the room and start offering water to his guests.

It’s an interesting headspace to be in. You feel their eyes on you, but you’re not partially nude. This is your home, where you are most comfortable. You’re partially clothed, for their sake. You offer refreshments because Gary’s guests are your guests; there is no deference, or shame. You follow Gary because you want to, because he offers orders freely and demands nothing from you. You have power here, even if you’re not in control.

So, when Johnny runs an appreciative hand up the back of your thigh, you don’t hesitate to knock his arm away and then crack your palm against his face.

Gary’s whistle stutters as he tries to call you though his laughter. You go to stand behind his shoulder, and offer your hand for his inspection. He holds your wrist gently, but he doesn’t need to check you for injury. You know how to hit a man, and the slap was more of a warning than anything. He kisses the inside of your wrist before addressing the rest of the table.

A solid hit, he signs, as Simon interprets. He grins at Johnny’s quickly reddening face. Told you to keep your hands to yourself. To you, he signs, Kneel.

You consider the kneeling pillow he’s placed by his side, then fold into it. He signals position 5 or 7, so you settle with your back straight, hands on your thighs, shoulders relaxed. From this angle, you can only see thighs, and Gary’s left hand. He pinches three fingers to his thumb. Hold.

Above you, Mason rumbles, “Don’t think she should be punished for that.”

Gary’s hand disappears, and Simon’s voice says. “’She’s not being punished. She gets to relax now. None of you gets to look if any of you can’t follow the rules.’”

“Ye cannae blame me,” Johnny whines, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “She’s a right bonnie thing. An’ she usually likes to play.”

“'She’s in a mood,” Simon rumbles. “’You’re lucky she has her orders. She’s armed…’ Where the fuck is she armed?”

Gary snorts as his left hand appears with the hand signal to present arms. Above and to the side of you, you catch Kyle watching from the corner of your eye as you slip your hands under your skirt to unsheathe your palm knives. You raise your hands above the table.

“Steamin’ jesus,” Johnny laughs.

Gary signals for you to resume position 5, so you do. He taps your shoulder, once, twice, three times. Good. Very good. Perfect. You don’t break position, but you purse your lips to catch the edge of his wrist in a kiss.

“Should we go after this round?” Kyle asks, tapping his poker chips on the table in a nervous rhythm. “If she’s not comfortable with us being here.”

“’You wouldn’t have made it through the door if she didn’t want you here.’” Simon chuckles and knocks his own knuckles on the table. “Sounds like she runs the damn ‘ouse, not you. ‘Doesn’t Bambi?’ Olright, you’re not wrong there. But we don’t ‘ave nearly the amount of rules an’ signals that you do.”

You let the noise of their voices turn to background noise as you center yourself. Above the table, Mason shuffles cards. Johnny’s left leg bounces - he’s got a good hand, then - and Kyle stops tapping his chips. Gary’s hand enters your sight line to give you one more signal. Easy. Then he touches the top of your head and gently nudges you to lay your head on his thigh. He taps, once, twice, three times. Four.

Good. Very good. Perfect. I love you.

[storytellersumayyah]

THE GUIDE AND THE LIGHT: SEASON ONE, EPISODE ONE

The Guide and The Light are a series of comedic, romantic and soft short stories detailing the representation Muslims want but are never allowed to have. We all deserve to see ourselves fall in love and keep that love. We all deserve to have our beliefs respected and celebrated, instead of treated like a joke or insulted.

It's about giving my community what they want and turning conversations that shouldn't have happened in public into something we can all smile at. I hope you enjoy.

read on wattpad instead! | play next episode | view full series

EPISODE ONE: PILOT/THE WEDDING

SYNPOSIS: IT'S TIME FOR YAHYA AND NOOR TO GET MARRIED. BUT IF NO DAY CAN EVER BE TRULY PERFECT, THEN WHAT SHENAGIANS WILL OCCUR? AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, SHOULD ANYONE BE ALLOWED TO BE AS CUTE AS THESE TWO ARE?

It was the perfect day for a wedding. The sun was shining, the skies were clear- but not too clear- and it was the most comforting warmth the world had ever known.

But nothing in life was ever perfect. That was asking for too much. That was detracting from the beauty of being human. That was simply impossible. So, although it was the perfect day for a wedding, the weddings taking place were not going quite according to plan.

For Yahya and Noor, it meant things were not running on time. Which was normal, and their families had been expecting for things to be running even later than they were. But for Yahya, who had been dressed since mid-afternoon and had nothing to do since the walima was his responsibility and his almost father-in-law kept stopping him from helping, there was nothing left to do but twiddle his thumbs and remember how to say yes. And for Noor, who had created a spreadsheet to remember what times she had told people the wedding was starting, there was no reason for things to be running so behind schedule.

She told her sister as much.

“Noor, you probably built time in for us to run late. Also, don’t you always tell yourself one time knowing you’ll get out five minutes later?” Was her response.

Noor would’ve made a comment, but the make-up artist told her to smile so she could apply the blush and then the moment passed.

When her make-up was finished, and her dupatta draped over her head to cover her hair as she had instructed, she stood up.

“Sit back down!” Her sister, Khadija, shouted.

“Why?” Noor just wanted to sign the documents, give her consent, and move on with the day. The snacks she’d packed would only keep her appetite at bay for so long.

“It’s not ready yet.”

“Bajhi. I’m the bride and I’m ready. What else could possibly be needed?”

Khadija just looked at her. “I’m not dumb enough to tell you.”

Noor sighed and reached for her phone. Ten minutes behind schedule wasn’t bad. And it wasn’t reason to get frustrated with anyone. Khadija had been half right. When she had outlined the timeline of the day, she had built in time between events for them to run late. But it wasn’t five minutes. It was thirty.

She may have been organised, but her family were not.

“Hey. Is this really agitating?” Khadija asked.

Noor put her phone down. “No. Never. I’m getting married, and you’re here keeping me company. It would never be agitating.”

“Okay. Good. I promise we’ll be ready soon.”

And although her sister wasn’t the best judge of time, she wasn’t one to lie. So Noor smiled and squeezed her hand, aware that soon, the engagement ring would be around her neck and replaced with a silver band, it’s pair on Yahya’s finger for as long as they were meant to be together.

Ten minutes later, her sister stood up and closed the door behind her. Noor turned her head both ways to make sure her hair was suitably covered. When Khadija came back in, she was smiling.

“It’s time.”

They were having the Nikkah done in a separate room to the wedding reception. Yahya and Noor had specifically requested that. They wanted it to be done surrounded by their closest family, so the memory would be private and personal. It would just be them, the imam, their parents, siblings, and immediate aunts and uncles. As well as their cousins.

So it wasn’t as small as some intimate ceremonies, but they weren’t going to do it any other way.

Noor’s parents were waiting outside.

“Yahya just went inside. Are you ready?” Her dad asked.

She nodded, unable to keep the smile off her face. She had been practicing her solemn expression, as well as her soft smiles, but she couldn’t hide the joy. She was going to be married soon. She was going to be a wife.

Khadija walked in front of her. Noor’s parents held onto each of her arms, a gentle pressure. They didn’t get up on the stage with her. She sat opposite Yahya, who smiled shyly. She grinned back as the flash of a camera went off. And then she turned and saw the start of their new family as everyone stood together.

The imam was sat between them. “Are you both ready?”

They nodded in sync.

He stood up. “Salam everyone. As you’re aware, given the level of beauty in the clothes we’re all currently wearing, we’re here because Yahya and Noor have decided to get married. We will conduct the ceremony as is ordinarily done, and I will deliver a speech to the guests once everybody is sat down together in the reception venue. Good?”

“Yes!” Noor’s cousin shouted.

It removed any nerves.

“Excellent! Okay, if I could have the witnesses on stage please.”

Both fathers smiled at each other as they got on.

Noor had already read the marriage contract through. It was standard things in there, with very few additional clauses. The one that had made her laugh was about her hijab. Yahya was very politely asking her to only remove it if she felt like she had to, but that the definition of that excluded a white man announcing his feelings for her.

Yahya had also read the contract properly. Noor had said he was allowed one wife- which was fine by him because he knew he didn’t have the desire or capacity for more- and that if he was to become a politician, she would divorce him. He also understood that one. It had still been endearing to read though. They had planned for a future, and it was all about to become real.

“Noor.”

The sound of his almost-wife’s name pulled him from his thoughts.

Noor turned to face the imam. Her face glowed with joy and Yahya sat quietly as he admired her clothes. Her heel was slightly visible under the skirt of her lehenga. It was the perfect match to the golden embellishment across her clothes.

“I accept,” she repeated, all three times, when she was prompted to do so.

Yahya did the same.

The imam smiled and handed them both pens to sign the contract. Although the photographer was capturing the moment, Yahya knew the photos would never be shared beyond the people in the room. Nobody needed to know they signed their marriage contract with basic biros.

“Everyone cheer! They’re officially married! Yahya. Noor. The relationship between you is halal. Go wild, but not too wild because you know, people need time to adjust to the new situation and you deserve some time as just Yahya and Noor. You get me?”

Noor nodded as though it was a common conversation for her to have. Yahya just blinked a few times and smiled, mildly uncomfortable at seeing his former masjid teacher treat him like an adult man with a wife.

Oh.

“Well. We’re going to head to the hall to make sure everyone’s settled and ready, and then I’ll come back and grab the both of you so you can have your big entrance. We shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes,” Khadija told them.

When Noor had booked the rooms, she had factored in forty-five minutes for this exact moment. But she wasn’t about to say that so she just nodded.

The imam closed the door behind him.

“Hi husband,” Noor said once the footsteps faded. She had moved to sit where the imam had waited. It meant that when Yahya looked up with softness all across his face, he was staring directly at her face.

“Hi wife,” he whispered, as though he couldn’t quite believe it was real.

Noor stared at him for a few moments more and then started giggling. “I can’t quite believe that we’re married.”

“Neither can I,” he said.

Noor closed the space between them by taking his hand and placing it in hers. Yahya had never believed in perfection, but the way they seemed to fit together so perfectly had him convinced it could be created.

“You look very handsome by the way,” Noor told him after a few minutes of drawing circles on his hand.

“Oh. Thank you. You look beautiful. Truly.”

Noor smiled, her hand still in his. Yahya marvelled at the softness. Even sitting down, he was still slightly taller than her. They were so close, and there was nobody around. So he leant over and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She exhaled as he pulled back.

“That was nice,” she told him.

He smiled, feeling less anxious about being a husband already. “I’m glad. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“And you think I do?”

It was a teasing remark, but a genuine reminder. It eliminated the rest of the anxiety, and he wasn’t even shaking as they walked in together, their favourite nasheed playing as they climbed onto the second stage of the day.

Noor’s hand in his was a grounding and steady pressure. He shifted the way he was holding her to press his fingers against her wrist. Her pulse was steady, and he found himself breathing to match it. He hoped the rest of their lives would be like that as well: complementary and easy.

“I know everyone wants their food, but Yahya did specifically ask me to say a few words and lead everyone in dua first. That’s right- this came from the groom and has religious significance so you cannot complain.”

There was laughter all around.

“Marriage, as we all know, is an important part of Islam. But it’s not just about saying you’re husband and wife. It’s about being husband and wife. It’s about protecting each other. It’s about looking after each other the best you can, and facing things as a team. Marriage is about supporting each other through the good and bad times and meeting your loved one where they are. It’s not always easy. It’s not always fun. But it’s worth it. Allah will not give you what is bad for you, and Allah will not give you more than what you can handle. I want everyone, including our newly-weds, to hold onto that as best they can, even when it’s hard. Because it’s true.”

People were nodding along. Noor watched Yahya with love in her eyes, because she had no idea what to expect from the speech. Even Yahya seemed shocked by the care with which it was being delivered.

“Yahya, may you guide your wife to be better than she is now so you may both be rewarded. Noor, may you be the light of your husband’s eyes so he never loses the love in his face. May you both be good to each other for so long as it is right. May your marriage be filled with love, lightness and laughter for as long as it lasts. And may Allah make it easy on you both to build a life together. Ameen.”

“Ameen,” echoed around the room, and even the imam had tears in his eyes.

It wasn’t everyday you were aware of the number of people that were praying for you to have a good life.

“Right, and now that I’ve grown tired of the sound of my voice, food!”

There were laughs from everyone, and the flash of camera as more and more candid moments were captured.

“I must say, as exciting as today has been, I am ready to go to sleep,” Noor whispered, as Yahya gave her the perfect portion of rice.

“Would you like me to find you some coffee so you can get through the next few hours?” He asked, only half-joking.

“I have all the energy I could possibly need because you’re here,” she told him, not joking at all. He ducked his head, but the wide smile was still visible.

There wasn’t a single solemn photo taken. Noor’s first and new mother had never been happier.

Eventually, people started to say their goodbyes and the only people left were the immediate family.

“Are you ready?” Yahya asked, taking Noor’s hand.

For the first time that night, she felt nervous. But Yahya was rubbing across her wrist the way she had done for him earlier. It had been an unconscious thing that she had hoped would ground him in the moment. And it was doing the same for her. She didn’t need to think about anything but getting off the stage and following her family out.

“We’re going to miss you so much,” Khadija told her.

Noor laughed, grateful that her sister wouldn’t let her cry. “You haven’t lived with me for three years. And you’re going to see my next weekend for the walima anyways. It’s just six days, and we’ll be at work for five of them.”

Khadija shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

And Noor did. She had to build a life with Yahya. She had to meet his family, and make sure they got time as a couple. He had to do the same, but it was different for him. He’d already moved out once they got engaged so him and Noor would have somewhere to live together after the wedding. Noor hadn’t.

“Be good to each other,” Yahya’s dad said, hugging them both.

Yahya nodded, wiping at his eyes before anyone could comment. Noor frowned slightly, hoping he knew it was okay to be emotional. But he looked at her and nodded, as though he could already read her mind and she realised it was less about embarrassment and more about not wanting to have red eyes or tear-stained cheeks the entire night.

It made her smile though. Knowing that he wasn’t a pretty crier either.

“Well, I’m ready when you are,” Yahya said.

Noor turned around to wave at her family one last time.

Then she let Yahya help her into the backseat, grinning when he left the middle one empty so they could be comfortable. He smiled just as wide as he placed his hand in the gap between them, hers already there and waiting.

It had started to rain. But as they pulled up to the hotel, both more than ready to get into their room so they could change out of their clothes and so excited to go to sleep because nobody ever warned them about how exhausting it was to get married, it didn’t even matter. They just climbed out the car as quickly as they could and ran inside, not even caring that they were probably getting wetter than if they had just walked.

“Goodnight husband,” Noor said as Yahya turned the main light off.

“Goodnight wife,” he whispered, kissing her forehead once more before settling in next to her.

Before they fell asleep, Yahya and Noor both thought about the events of the day, still so shocked by everything that had happened. They both felt like they had looked amazing. The water pressure had been lacking. The food was better than when they had been looking at caterers. They had never been so exhausted before. Although the cake had almost been destroyed, it hadn’t been and everyone loved it. It had started raining and their clothes were never going to get dry without an actual rack. They had actually gotten married.

So, it wasn’t perfect.

But it was as close to ideal as life would ever get.

buy me a ko-fi!

[maynardotheratman]

Rambling about age play and how it hurts victims

Trigger warnings: CSA, pedophilia, and mental illness. If you are a minor I strongly encourage you not to read or interact with this post.

So I have a confession. When I was younger I used to be into “ageplay”.

I say this in air quotes bc I was introduced to this “kink” at the age of 12. At this point in time I had just barely began to recognize my own history of CSA and incest, and I was also struggling with sh and mental illness. I also (unknowingly) experienced impure age regression in response to certain triggers and would regress to childish behaviors. (I still do this but I am more self aware)

Overall this combination mixed with how normalized predatory behavior towards me felt was extremely detrimental to me and only served to worsen my trauma and ptsd symptoms.

I was not properly educated on the difference between age play and age regression and assumed that my age regression was inherently sexual. Overall this was extremely detrimental to my already traumatized and developing mind. Even after I stopped engaging with this kink, I still was stuck in a continuous cycle of compulsive seeking out predatory partners who would take advantage of me and sexualize my perceived childlike behavior and tendencies. I was groomed by multiple people online which I learned to justify in my head and I was overall indifferent to my own mental suffering when it came to toxic and abusive dynamics.

Because of my own experience and because of the behavior I’ve seen from others who engage in this kink I wholeheartedly believe that this kink is a way for pedophiles to engage in their fantasies of abusing children by taking advantage of survivors of CSA and incest.

I can understand and empathize with people who engage in this kink as the “little”. Many are csa victims much like myself who have normalized this behavior as acceptable (mostly due to their own negative self believes they developed from the abuse. Believing it’s acceptable behavior because it’s happening to THEM) and if you are someone who engages in this kink as a little I see you and I understand you. I cannot control your actions or behaviors however I do implore you to seek help and therapy if you can to work through your trauma in a healthy way.

However I do believe there is a-lot of harm that you as the little contribute to when talking about and advocating for this kink does, not just to yourself but to other victims. I was introduced to this kink by someone my age who was a little and while I luckily did not engage in this kink in any public spaces and did not talk about it often, I do feel shame and disgust at the thought that I could’ve unknowingly introduced someone else to this kink and continued the cycle. To clarify, most of the fantasies I engaged in were engaged through reading and writing, and occasionally role play. For the most part I kept it to myself.

I do ask you as a victim to question why anyone would find sexual satisfaction in someone behaving and regressing in a child like manner. Not just because it is you who they are engaging with, but because they fetish childlike behavior. Please recognize that you are most likely enabling a pedophile in acting out their fantasies. Just because both of you are able to consent does not mean that this should be acceptable.

“But why would you care so much about what two consenting adults do” I normally don’t. Generally I am a very accepting person when it comes to most kinks, even one’s I personally am uninterested in, but I draw the line at anything that corrupts or defiles childhood.

This is not “harm reduction” for pedophiles. Research shows that people who watch violent pornography are more likely to normalize and engage in those behaviors, and I wholly believe this logic can be applied to pedophiles. The only harm reduction that exists for pedophiles is therapy (if they have not offended) or death (if they have offended)

If you are someone who engages in this kink as the caregiver, you disgust me. Regardless of whether you are engaging in this behavior with a consenting partner or not, you are still taking advantage of a SA survivor and I hope you seek help before you harm an actual child because once you do you are irredeemable garbage who deserves a fate worse than death. Pedos are less than human in my eyes and should be put down like a rabid animal to protect the rest of the world from them.

I wanted to talk about this because I rarily see people who are former littles talk about this due to shame, and I am hoping that with me doing this it will encourage other littles to speak out and hopefully stop engaging in this behavior.

Up to a certain extent I believe that former littles should be offered grace and the chance to grow as a human being. I think shaming them only serves to continue this harmful cycle for everyone involved. I say up to a certain extent because I do believe there are littles out there who cross that threshold into irredeemable behavior.

[imspardagus]

Rowling with the punches

In the film of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, there is a scene where Hermione punches Malfoy on the nose. She turns to Harry and Ron and says “That felt good”. Ron’s reaction is “Not good. Brilliant”. It’s not quite like that in the book. She just slaps Malfoy in the face “with all the strength she could muster” and Ron sounds “both stunned and impressed”.

Later in the film, Harry and Hermione are watching this scene play out from a distance (I know, but it’s supposed to be a fantasy). As she witnesses herself thump Malfoy, Hermione looks on proudly and Harry says, admiringly, “Good punch”.

Now I know this is a work of fiction but it is J K Rowling’ work of fiction and as such it should be allowed to stand as witness for the prosecution when it comes to judging J K’s consistency, if not her integrity. Okay, if she were an adult author, you might consider saying  “don’t judge her she is just making things up. We are big enough to work that out” but she was writing for children and children might well take this action by their heroine and the unchallenged expression of approval by their hero as indicative that punching a person on the nose is an okay thing to do.

So when the same J K goes public with the words, “Watch this, then explain why you’re OK with a man beating a woman in public for your entertainment…” I think we are entitled to ask her to explain what appear to be, at best, double standards.

For the hard of thinking, allow me to explain by asking this question: if it is okay for a children’s author to write a scene that consists of a woman punching a man on the nose (an act of violence to which the man has certainly not consented), for the entertainment of children, without any hint of disapproval, how is it not okay for for a man to punch a woman on the nose (in the context of a staged and consensual “fight”) for the entertainment of adults?

The answer you will get from me, in case you need to ask, is that neither is acceptable, any more than a man punching a man on the nose (or anywhere else for that matter), or a woman punching a woman is acceptable. I know it happens but it shouldn’t. And presenting it for the entertainment of others sends the wrong message. The message is not even that violence is, or can be, still a legitimate means of resolving an issue but that the deliberate infliction of grievous bodily harm is okay as long as it is done for reward. And in the 21st century, that, in my view, is a sick message.

We need, in short, to ask ourselves not why boxing matches between men and women are permitted but why boxing itself is permitted.

The woman, in the instance that so shocked J K, claims that “I went to the ring to honour my father. I was told a lot of times that I was a warrior but I preferred to stop for my health. I have never felt a punch like this. I got into the ring to fight. I didn’t give up, but one punch hurt too much and so I said enough.” She may not be bright enough to understand the sheer perverseness of this argument but that should not prevent us from doing so.

Let’s break it down. She “got into the ring to fight”. Presumably, therefore, she took into consideration that she might lose that fight, to a stronger and more agile opponent, and might, in the process, be hurt. Or is she saying that she is only prepared to “fight” weaker and less agile people, avoiding hurt to herself and inflicting it on others – a condition commonly known as bullying.

I would have to be delusional, as a seventy-two year old man who has never in his life engaged in violence, to step into the ring with her believing, even for a moment, that I would not get hurt. Hurt, physical damage, is not just a possible upshot of the “sport” of boxing, as it is in, say, rugby or football or cricket, it is its essence. Which is why I would not do it. And I would not feel diminished by my disinclination because I believe myself to be a rational person and I am satisfied making myself a punchbag for a skilled fist-fighter is not the decision of a rational man.

Why, then, should I be permitted the vicarious pleasure of watching two other people beating each other up, whoever they are?

The march of progress in social living has seen duels, swordfights, bare knuckle bouts, public executions, floggings, pillories and stocks, and all manner of other entertainments involving the infliction of physical harm for entertainment banned. But boxing persists, protected by outdated thinking (that it is “noble”, that it is “character-building” and, yes, that it is “manly”) and by the adoption of escalating quantities of gear designed, ostensibly, to prevent precisely the harm that is inherent in the sport. It is an exercise of conscience appeasement of similar order to “recyclable” plastic.    

But looked at dispassionately, boxing is a hangover from a time when violence was a prevalent, inevitable and accepted part of life. We like to think we are better than that now. The truth, it seems, is that we are not.

So, J K, what’s it to be? Do we continue to believe that violence is an acceptable part of human life or do we reject it and deprecate it in what ever form it appears? If you think that beating somebody up for entertainment is okay as long as it is just man on man or woman on woman, then, in a society that values, and is supposed to pursue, equality between the sexes, on what basis can you oppose the spectacle of a bout between a man and a woman?

The discerning among you will appreciate that I have not addressed to vacuous slur that J K intended by her intervention: the insinuation that a woman was being hit by a man. To me, that insult is unworthy of comment here. But more importantly, it misses the point, as, indeed, does J K’s general approach in the area of transgenderism and women’s rights.

J K, I have always tried to respect you. And I understand that you have been hurt by men in the past. I wish that had not happened. But we have to look forward. We have to think about the message we are sending to the next generation: our children. Do you think it is right to skew an issue just to serve your own received distrust of men? Is that your message to the future? Lies mean what I want them to mean? Is that it?

Here is the point. Let’s just do away with sanctioned violence between people altogether, shall we? And teach our children that violence is never an answer let alone a legitimate form of entertainment. Then maybe women, and men, can live in peace.

[bilboyagathechickenfootedhobbit]

And now the troll that originally started this nonsense is trying to disguise his public sex kink as “if you don’t educate kids about sex you are making them vulnerable to predators.”

For fucks fucking sake.

I refuse to engage directly with his posts because I’m 99% certain he has an abuse kink and I will not participate in it. But like….this is just so fucking dumb. So dumb.

OBVIOUSLY you need to educate kids about sex and consent. I do that every day in little ways with my kid, starting in infancy when we only ever used correct and accurate words for anatomy. This removes the shame around genitals and gives them the vocabulary to speak up if anything ever happens. Instead of “someone touched my no-no” they can clearly describe what happened: “an adult touched my penis.” No vagueness, no room for misunderstanding. He used to follow me into the bathroom and that naturally raised some questions, which I answered matter-of-factly and in an age-appropriate manner. “Mommy doesn’t have a penis because women have vulvas.” Boom, that’s it. There was no need to explain to him what the parts are for; he was three. But you lay the groundwork by talking about bodies and genitals without shame, so that when it does come time to start discussing sex (there is no such thing as one sex talk, it should be an ongoing and open conversation that addresses whatever issue is concerning the involved parties) you can do so without shame and embarrassment.

I model consent all day every day. Playing around and tickling and he tells me to stop? Immediate full stop. He’s feeling upset and says he’s going to his room to get his feelings under control? I don’t barge in demanding to talk. Likewise, when I tell him I need ten minutes alone, I expect that boundary to be honored, and it is. He knows that when someone says ‘no’ it means exactly that. When he and Daddy are wrestling and Daddy tells him he needs a break, he knows it means no surprise flying kicks. Because the adults around him model consent to teach him consent.

You do not need to expose children to adults having sex to teach them about sex and consent.

The idea that exposing children to adults having sex will somehow safeguard them against sexual abuse is the absolute pinnacle of stupidity.

The fact that this nitwit vehemently argued for people having the right to have sex where children could see it and is now pulling the “but this is to HELP the children!!” card is so predictable and unimaginative that I can’t even be mad, just TIRED. Sure, bud, make your post about how you’re just trying to safely educate kids about sex to protect them in order to make everyone else seem like rabid screaming lunatics who don’t actually care about kids safety. It’s so transparent I could make a greenhouse out of it. But I do truly worry about the younger kids (there I go again, looking out for the pesky youth) who are taking all this in and going “Yeah!! Show kids porn, it will HELP THEM!!”

There’s a big fucking difference between a kid growing up seeing casually naked family members about the home, being naked in the changing room at a gym/spa, or going to a public bathhouse with the family, and seeing strangers openly fucking in public, and you know this.

The whole public sex discourse is insane. But what goes beyond insane into heart-dropping, what the fuck where did we go wrong territory is this attitude of ‘who cares if kids see? They’ll be having sex one day eventually.’ Like???? Yeah, most likely they will. My six year old kid will one day drive an automobile. Does that mean I should just give him the keys this morning and let him drive himself to school? I mean, he’s going to drive EVENTUALLY, right? By that same token, I should also just give him a tumbler of whiskey and let him take a drag off a cigarette; I mean, he’ll probably try these things one day ANYWAY, may as well be today, right? And since he’s going to learn what sex is, why not invite one of his little friends over and show them how to fuck one another?

Oh wait, does that make you uncomfortable now? The idea of two six year olds being encouraged to have sexual intercourse? DOES THAT SEEM WEIRD??? Why?? I mean, they’re going to do it one day anyway, WHY NOT NOW??? Why NOT get your six year old wasted and zooted and teach them how to properly fuck?? Does that make you feel weird? What are you? Some lame-o virgin who doesn’t know how to party? Weak sauce. See, I happen to be a super cool edge-lord sex god who has had ALL THE SEX and therefore don’t care if anyone sees anyone having sex. Since I, the ultimate Sex Lord, have definitely already had sex it is now appropriate for every single human on earth, regardless of age or anything, to witness anyone else having sex. I mean, I’M okay with it, so therefore everyone else has to be okay with it.

I cannot believe that at the exact same time on this hell site, we have a post going around threatening to kill adults for listening to TikTok’s on full volume in public and a post going around saying everyone is SUPES COOL with people just fucking wherever they feel like in public. So this site is more offended by auditory disruption than literal sex crimes being perpetrated against them.

Make it make sense.

[hopeaman100]

Tips for Maximizing Your Enjoyment at a Caribbean Sex Vacation

BDSM (bondage, domination, sadism, and masochism) vacations and resorts are becoming more popular, but many misconceptions about them and questions may arise before you sign up. How do you know which BDSM vacation or resort to choose? What should you bring with you? What do you expect to happen at these resorts? 

BDSM can be an exciting aspect of your relationship, but what do you do if you're in an area that frowns upon public play? What do you do if you want to take your Sex Vacation For Couples as an opportunity to explore BDSM? That's where BDSM resorts and vacations come in. At these unique destinations, you can learn more about the lifestyle, meet others who share your interests, and indulge in some of the kinkiest sex of your life without worrying about anyone judging you for it!

When you start exploring the world of BDSM, you'll find plenty of other like-minded individuals looking to share their experiences with you. However, if you want to take your relationship with your partner or kink play with others to the next level, you must know how to find BDSM resorts and vacations that cater to those needs. The following guide will tell you everything you need to know about these special resorts and how they can help enrich your life and relationship.

What is BDSM?

The term BDSM comprises two parts, the first being B&D or bondage & discipline, which involves using restraints. The second part is S&M, or sadism & masochism, which deals with inflicting pain for pleasure. BDSM often entails one person in charge who takes on a dominant role (usually called a Dom) and someone who takes on a submissive role (called a sub). These terms are also used in everyday life, not just when it comes to sexual encounters. 

The Different Types of BDSM

There are many different ways to explore BDSM, but it is important to understand what types of experiences you are looking for. The three different types of BDSM include sensual, sadistic, and masochistic. Sensuality involves kissing, touching, and caressing with gentle pressure. Sadistic is when one partner inflicts pain or humiliation on their partner to give them sexual pleasure. Masochistic is when one partner enjoys being inflicted pain or humiliation by their partner to give them sexual pleasure. Many people experience both sensual and masochistic as pleasurable sensations, while others experience only one type. Whether you're interested in a light spanking or an intense session involving whips, chains, and leather restraints, there's something for everyone!

What is a BDSM resort or vacation?

A BDSM Sexy Resort or vacation is where you can take a break from your everyday life. Whether for a weekend getaway or an extended stay, these resorts offer all amenities, activities, and events. Play parties are one of the most popular types of events at these resorts. These parties often involve different rooms with various kinky scenes happening in each one. Attendees are welcome to watch as well as partake in some themselves. There's also always plenty of free condoms available, just in case! Another type of event that takes place at these resorts is workshops. The workshops cover consent, communication, limits, and safety during sexual activity. Some people attend this type of workshop before a play party, so they know what to expect when they arrive. Other workshops are open to anyone who wants to attend them, but they will not give specific information about anything that could happen at a play party. Aftercare workshops allow attendees to learn how best to deal with any intense emotions or physical sensations following their experience at a play party.

Many couples use BDSM Adult Sex Resort because it provides them with space for romance away from their regular lives and responsibilities. Couples have many options, too - whether they want to engage in fantasy role play, experiment with bondage, or explore sensation play, and many opportunities are available. While participating in these activities together is great bonding time for couples, there's also a social aspect to it. It's common for people to meet new friends while attending BDSM resorts. They may even make arrangements beforehand by connecting through social media networks like Fetlife and talking beforehand about meeting up while they're both at the resort. When people return home from a BDSM resort or vacation, they often feel refreshed, energized, and eager to start new adventures. Vacations are almost always more affordable than you might think. If you plan, you don't need to spend thousands of dollars on plane tickets or hotels!

Do I need to be experienced in BDSM to go to a BDSM resort or take a BDSM vacation?

[lilsuzn]

MLQC Victor - NSFW abc headcanons (REMASTERED)

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice

Warnings: Explit sexual content (GN READER)

it's what I posted a while ago, but better - I changed some things, I deleted some thing and wrote new. I think it's much better now

A = Aftercare (What they are after sex?)

Victor is a man that has his values straight

You are the most important part of his life (even if he sometimes struggles to shop it) and he will do anything for you… and only for you

Other people don’t matter. He only takes what he wants and leaves.

But you - his sweetest, dearest, little love… can ask anything and everything (well, almost - see N).

You crave massages? He will buy the most luxurious oils on the market, might even take a course to perfect his skills to give you more pleasure

Want to take a bath? He will have a bathtub installed if he doesn’t have one already

Pillowtalk, kissing, snuggling, another round? No need to say it twice. He leaves to please you

When it comes to him, he likes to pull you close and tell you all the things he has no courage to say at any other time

Leave no space for misunderstanding in the department of his unconditional, boundless, eternal love and devotion for you

Tell you just how happy he is to have you and how everything is worthless in comparison to you

After he makes sure you’ve been pleasured throughly already, he will want to share a shower

And make no mistake - he will wash you. You can wash him too, if you want, but taking care of that pretty body of yours is his responsibility

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part is his waist

It wasn’t easy to get that V shaped body and he is extremely proud of this accomplishment…

Especially when he sees your hungry gaze roaming his torso up and down

And you… He couldn’t possibly choose one part

Beautiful legs, rounded butt, soft abdomen and that gorgeous, gorgeous smile

Yeah…

No…

That would be your thighs when it comes to the sexual aspect

You have such a delicate skin there. So suckable. Kissable. More plush than any pillow could ever be

He feels so secure and at ease when they squeeze around his head as you ride his face.

The sound of his hips slapping against them - heavenly

Not much can make him calmer than your lovely, plump thighs

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

It should come (hihihi) as no surprise that he loves to spill inside

It’s so intimate… Bonding…

Doesn’t really like to cum onto you for reasons he himself doesn’t really understand

It just feels… somewhat degrading? And he doesn’t like it that way?

Then again cuming into your mouth is a strong YES. Maybe it’s because of how enthusiastically you take him in

How you collect all the spill from your chin and lick it off your fingers like it was some kind of delicious delicacy

That sight makes him hard all over again…

D = Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory - a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a folder of your photos on his computer

Some of them were taken with consent… Some without you realising…

Because you were in his bed sleeping in your naked glory… And he could only stop himself the first, like 20 (?) times

He sorts them by aesthetic and cuteness/sexiness

Jacks off to them when you’re not around

Most of them are very artistic. He tries his best to make them as good as the ones he was using before you… (see J)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He slept with a few girls in college, but he saw it only as ‘taking care of his sexual needs’ - no real feelings included

He had one dedicated booty call - a girl who fell in love with him despite him saying that he only only sees her for sex

That period really allowed him to explore his sexuality

So he knows what he likes and what to do, so his partner likes it too

F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)

Everything when he takes you from the back

He’s rather keen on yanking hair, slaping ass…

But when it comes to the person he loves - you, he likes to face each other during sex

He wants to kiss your face, neck and chest. Nuzzle his face into your abdomen while he’s going down from his height

Your legs thrown over his shoulders so he can slap his hips against your soft thighs

Or legs pressed to your sides, hands gripping your thighs

And he can’t even attempt to lie he doesn’t absolutely love when you sit on his lap… or get on top in general

Or when your thighs grip his head when you 69 on the couch while ‘watching’ a movie. Your lips sloppy around him as his tongue pleasures you with most precision and dedication

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

No goofy.

If they start to joke around, they get spanked. HARD.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Victor is a passionate swimmer, so most of his body is hairless

But he doesn’t shave his pubes. Finds it weird to be completely bare down there and the first time he had sex with a completly hairless girl, he was a bit taken aback with her baby like smoothness.

Only trims them with a ‘pubes razor’ which is his old razor that he doesn’t use for face anymore, because he got a better one from his aunt for Christmas

Carpet matches the drapes

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

No goofy.

Only love and eternal devotion.

He will caress and leave kisses all over your body. Keep you close in the warmest and most loving embrace

No dummies or idiots in bed. Only treasures and loves

Almost like he’s trying to make it up to you for his tendency to be so aloof on a daily basis

The sweet talk doesn’t stop there, but I already said everything about it in A

J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

This man didn’t have time to waste on women when he was building his empire, so he naturally spend quite a lot of his life masturbating instead of having sex

He doesn’t really enjoy porn, though. It’s too cartoonish for him. He much prefers to look through lingerie commercials or nude photoshoots - the more artistic the better

After he reunites with you, he starts to feel all that pent up sex tension and starts to jack off almost every day

Thinking about you. Looking at photos of you. Carving you with every small bit of his being

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

First of all - seeing his partner being pleasured. Either by him or by a vibrating toy plugged into them or pressed against their sensitive spots. He doesn’t even pump himself watching. He’s way too consumed with the enticing sights

Double penetration. His huge dick in one whole, dildo in another… Just thinking about it gets him going

He can’t deny himself at least some manhandling (if you consent - obv). Although he doesn’t go full on dom every time (at least with you) he seems to be unable to deny himself some hair pulling and choking... Although he almost does it lovingly? Spanking and whipping will surely also happen from time to time. Can get very rough when jealous

Also a slight daddy kink. When he hears it slip past your lips in the form of a joke - he feels some strange tingling in his groin and it’s not a venereal disease

If you sit on his lap, make a cute, helpless expression and ask daddy to play with you… It just turns him into a primal animal with no self restraint

That he kinda always seems to be

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Where nobody can hear them

Or see them

Anywhere with a stable surface really, but he needs to know you will have full privacy

Would never agree for public sex

All the sweet sounds and expressions he makes you do are his and only his to experience

M = Motivation (What turns them on/gets them going)

Stress, irritation, anger, hurt… Sex is a great way for him to gat this weight of his chest since he doesn’t really like to think those negative feeligs through

Or any feelings, if we’re at it

A nice butt is also a motivation, especially when it’s attached to a fine pair of legs

But both of these factors aren’t a guarantee of a turn on and even if they have that impact on him, he still will most likely not act on it

What he really struggles to control is a real attraction that reaches what’s beyond physical

A beautiful, hardworking and open-minded person is something Victor finds hard to ignore

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do/turn offs)

No sharing

No blood play

No permanent marking

Nothing too forcefull or aggressive

No sex before assigning boundaries and exchanging preferences

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As I already said In B, Victor is an oral lover

More into giving than receiving, but would never push his lover away

(you can always 69, right?)

The man is humming in pleasure as his tongue slides along your sex

Is more than willing to go for hours if only you let him

The more you moan the more intense his movements become

His main goal is to please

The secondary one is to be the best at yet another thing

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He has two base modes

One: I love you, my sweet creature - all about measured, unhurried but hard thrust. True, pure love-making

Two: Little girls don’t get a say in how daddy fucks them - you’re tearing up, sobbing, drooling and he gets even more turned on by it. Fucks harder and faster then you both believed possible. Years of engaging in sports come to show themselves

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He will participate when the occasion occurs

Might even initiate an occasion

But it’s not really sex for him. It’s a quickie

And when compared to the real love-making with you… it’s just meh

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

When it comes to taking risks, I believe I already made it clear that he isn’t too into that

If someone walked in you, it would be very upsetting for him

If you got accidentally hurt would break his heart

But experiment he would happily

New toys, new positions, new kinks… He will try anything once

Well, almost anything (see N)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

We all have our better and worst days, and this man has a whole company to run. It’s only natural for him to be tired

So usually he won’t last for more than one round. Maybe 3 on weekends

But will last a while if he sets a slower pace (see P)

On vacations however, after a few days of rest his stamina will increase dramatically

Have you seen this guy’s torso? Exactly

He has some stamina to spare

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Not against, although he prefers to experiment with positions that to experiment with toys

Will probably never propose any, except when he knows his partner is into such things

If you do - Victor will do his research and find something exciting for you to enjoy

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He really is not patient enough for that

Doesn’t have time for it either

Why would he even want to? They’re unsatisfied = he’s unsatisfied (as I mentioned in K)

He sees no appeal in it. When he wants to fuck, he wants to fuck. No reason to beat around the bush

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Victor can be a bit more talkative than usual during the foreplay

Throughs some praise (a lot of it)

Tell you about his feelings (but not too much at that point)

About things that made him jealous…

A quiet Fuck may leave his lips when he enters you and when he’s about to come

In the middle of those two - he’s rather silent

Not much of a moaner

He grunts and growls a lot though. Can get a little bit loud from time

W = Wild card (A random headcanon for the character)

It was a sunny, autumn day. You were walking down the street. You’re fingers entwined. The sunlight was gracing your beautiful features so gorgeously… and he had already been yearning for so long

When you’ve finally reached the Souvenir’s door, the man is all worked up

Not that you could tell from his steely expression

But you sure got suspicious when he got all touchy feely out of the sudden

Not that you would ever mind - obviously

Feather light kisses on the nape of your neck and shoulders. Fingertips caressed your waist to then slide down to your hips. Then he reached for the hem of your dress…

“I love you…” he whispered in your ear

Goosebumps momentarily appeared on your skin as all the intense feelings he had been making you experience from the very day you saw him for the first time in his office travel down your spine in a form of a intense shiver

You wanted him. So bad. For so long.

And there was no hiding his feelings for you at that moment as you turned your head to face him

Soon after stomach was pressed against the kitchen counter. Your naked butt was all out on display for Victor to squeeze and spank as you squirmed and moaned under his touch

Victor didn’t take any unnecessary time to move his long, broad fingers down, to stroke your sensitive slit

He praised you for being so wet, so flushed, so eager for him

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

“I love you, too” you whispered to his ear as his arms pressed you as close to his body as possible, while you were still going back from your highs

And after that, from his lips slipped the words of the most sincere adoration… and true love

Words you would never expect to leave his beautiful, soft mouth

Matches the rest of the man

Long and thick

No curvature. Perfectly straight

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Rather average

Ha has periods when he doesn’t even think about it

And he has ones when he can’t stop thinking about it

However he doesn’t go too much either way

Z = Zzz… (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Remember what I said in S? Applies here as well

He’s a hardworking man

Simplu needs to work hard to keep his business growing and to keep his lover pleased

Then he just needs to get some rest. Don’t try to change his mind because he will

If he’s well rested however, he won’t let you sleep

Like, not a chance. You need to come at least five times. He doesn’t make the rules, sorry

[dwellordream]

“Eleanor and Louis arrived at Antioch’s port ten miles from the city on 19 March 1148, eight months after leaving France—considerably later than they had expected to reach the Holy Land. They were welcomed warmly by the prince of Antioch, Raymond, younger brother of Eleanor’s father. He led the royal entourage to Antioch “with great pomp,” where the clergy and people were waiting to greet them. On Eleanor’s arrival in the city after the ordeal of the harrowing crossing of Anatolia, she anticipated relaxing and recovering from her hardships, swathed in luxury at Raymond’s palace. 

During a ten-day sojourn as her uncle’s guest, Eleanor enjoyed the company of a number of other Poitevins who had followed Raymond to Antioch, among them his palace chaplain and some of his knights whose families she knew, as well as the patriarch of Antioch who came from Limoges. Eleanor took great delight in the company of Prince Raymond, only nine years her senior, and his sophisticated court at Antioch charmed her. The city and its palatial residences with marble columns, intricate mosaics, and rich silks called to mind the magnificence of Constantinople. 

The “Franks,” as western Christians settled in the crusader states were called, had adopted Syrian manners and customs that were suitable for the local climate. They took baths and used soap, wore eastern-style clothing, ate the local dishes, including sweets flavored with sugar, and built their houses on the Syrian model with courtyards and fountains. Louis and his men recoiled from the luxurious and self-indulgent way of life they observed at Antioch, regarding it with the same scorn felt earlier for the Greeks at Constantinople. They were shocked and scandalized by Frankish settlers who “went native,” making friends with Muslim notables and occasionally even allying with them. 

…In his attempt to convince Louis VII to join him in recovering Edessa, Raymond of Antioch “counted greatly on the interest of the queen with the lord king.” Raymond probably sensed Eleanor’s admiration for him, aware that she saw in him a father-figure, a reminder of her father, Duke William X. He knew how to play on his niece’s divided loyalties, appealing to her sense of family solidarity; he was her closest living male relative and a reminder of her pampered childhood at Poitiers. In addition, his entourage included a number of Poitevins, so he could arouse her concern for her kin and countrymen dwelling in this endangered Christian outpost.

He would have observed that Eleanor was a strong-minded woman. Certainly her interest in political matters had been evident from the first years of her marriage, and then Louis’s hopeless love for his bride had won him over easily to her point of view. Yet now Eleanor felt herself capable of openly disputing her husband’s policy decisions on the basis of her own judgment. Impressed by Prince Raymond’s knowledge gained from a decade’s residence in the crusader principality, she quickly grasped the wisdom of his strategy. Despite Raymond’s success in recruiting his niece to his cause, neither she nor he had any luck in shaking Louis’s determination to proceed directly to Jerusalem. 

Louis VII now expected his queen to be a docile wife, submitting to him and not questioning his initiatives in public policy. Yet his indecisiveness during the difficult crossing of Anatolia already had shaken Eleanor’s confidence in his judgment, and no doubt her impatience with his austere way of living had deepened during her exhausting and frightening journey across Anatolia. She could no longer deny her unhappiness with her marriage, and she quite possibly confided this to her uncle. Her refusal to be forced into a constraining mold of wifely submissiveness became clear at Raymond’s court, and this was her actual crime at Antioch in the eyes of Louis and his entourage. 

Eleanor’s impassioned and forthright support of Raymond’s plan only provoked her husband’s jealousy. When neither Raymond’s private approaches nor a council attended by both rulers’ entourages could win Louis’s support for his plan of attack, the prince’s attitude changed, and he began plotting against the French king. Eleanor announced to Louis that he could go on to Jerusalem, but she would stay in Antioch and initiate proceedings for the annulment of their marriage. The earliest source for this shocking episode, the infamous incident at Antioch that colored all succeeding assessments of Eleanor, is John of Salisbury.

…Because John’s recounting is so significant for Eleanor’s later reputation, it must be quoted: Whilst the king and queen remained [at Antioch] to console, heal and revive the survivors from the wreck of the army, the attentions paid by the prince to the queen, and his constant, indeed almost continuous, conversation with her, aroused the king’s suspicions. These were greatly strengthened when the queen wished to remain behind although the king was preparing to leave, and the prince made every effort to keep her, if the king would give her consent. And when the king made haste to tear her away, she mentioned their kinship, saying that it was not lawful for them to remain together as man and wife, since they were related in the fourth and fifth degrees.

The queen was correct about their kinship within the prohibited degrees, for it was an open secret that she and Louis shared a common ancestor. Yet it was a daring declaration for her to make, and she would not have spoken so boldly without her uncle’s support, or perhaps his urging. Raymond, angered by Louis’s contrariness, saw his niece as an instrument for revenge. No doubt during their many conversations the prince had assured his niece that as senior male of the Aquitanian ducal line he would take her under his protection should she become single again. 

He knew that the choice of another spouse for her would fall to him, and her marriage could prove useful in cementing some new alliance. John of Salisbury continued, telling of the advice given to Louis VII by Thierry Galeran, a eunuch who was a trusted counselor of the king. Thierry warned Louis against allowing Eleanor to remain behind in Antioch because, quoting Ovid, “guilt under the guise of kinship could lie concealed.” The quotation can be read as a veiled reference to Eleanor’s incestuous relations with Raymond, but may be no more than a rhetorical flourish added by John, a scholar proud of his classical learning. 

Thierry further warned the king that should the crusade result in the loss of his wife, by her desertion or her theft by another, it would bring lasting shame on the French kingdom. John of Salisbury took care to make no overt accusation of adultery, seeming to suggest no more than the queen’s immoderate familial affection. If he intended to hint at Eleanor’s unfaithfulness at Antioch, it is significant that he chose Thierry Galeran, as a eunuch an object of derision, whom he described as “a eunuch whom the queen had always hated and mocked.” 

John comments that Thierry expressed his view “either because he hated the queen or because he really believed it, moved perchance by widespread rumour,” leaving readers free to reject his testimony as unreliable. John of Salisbury says little about Raymond’s role in this matter, other than that as the king prepared to leave Antioch “the prince made every effort to keep [Eleanor].” It is quite clear, however, that John held Raymond guilty for using the queen to pressure her husband into agreeing to his plan for battling the Turks, and for encouraging his niece’s decision to seek a separation from her husband once he had failed to influence Louis through her. 

…What is important about the Antioch incident is not so much what actually happened between Eleanor and her uncle, but what her contemporaries believed or wished to believe had occurred. For John of Salisbury and his clerical contemporaries, Eleanor’s violation of the laws of marriage was not adultery with Raymond, nor her demand for an annulment of her marriage so much as her refusal to adopt the subservient role expected of a wife. She had gone against the submissiveness demanded of wives by a male-dominated Church and secular society. 

Her lack of discretion and obstinate behavior in pressing for her uncle’s plan and disputing her husband’s decision-making in military matters constituted infidelity by compromising her husband’s royal dignity. It was already clear that Louis VII’s queen had achieved a place among his chief counselors and had exercised influence over him before leaving France. Clerical authors of the twelfth century could not condone such behavior in a woman: only men were considered capable of acting rationally, and when they encountered women wielding power, they attributed their actions to irrational, passionate motives, not to practical political considerations. 

In their view, Eleanor was engaging in a pattern of misconduct, “a form of deliberate provocation . . . a will to manifest her independence” that they interpreted as infidelity, whether or not it amounted to outright adultery. For the queen’s clerical critics, her conduct failed to conform with the Church’s standard for the proper self-effacing role of a wife or a queen, and she acted as “a man . . . even as a king.” Equally shocking to John was Louis VII’s excessive love for Eleanor that drove him to surrender to her wishes and to agree to the separation that she desired. 

This made manifest the French king’s ineffectual control over his strong-minded queen. For most medieval males, Louis’s inability to resist his wife seemed to threaten a moral and political order that defined female activity in diplomacy and politics as “unwomanly” and a husband unable to master his wife as “unmanly.” John, steeped in the Stoic philosophy revived in the twelfth-century Renaissance, held that a man must use his superior rational faculties to control his passions and attain an ideal life of moderation. He concluded that Louis’s love for his wife “almost beyond reason” showed the king’s dangerous lack of moderation in marital love, allowing passionate jealousy to overwhelm his masculine reason.

Although John of Salisbury’s condemnation of Eleanor does not imply actual adultery, rumors about the royal couple’s troubled marriage soon spread in the camps of French soldiers bitter at the crusade’s inglorious end. In the retelling of the queen’s indiscreet behavior in Raymond’s presence, “Gossiping courtiers apparently misconstrued and magnified her lively enjoyment of the visit.” Soon rumor magnified her deed from an impudent challenge to her husband’s authority, disobeying the Church’s teaching on wives’ submission to their husbands, to outright adultery with her uncle.”

- Ralph V. Turner,  “Adventures and Misadventures on the Second Crusade, 1145–1149.” in Eleanor of Aquitaine: Queen of France, Queen of England

[cozy-the-overlord]

Dances and Daggers

Summary:   The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 12: The Letter

Previous Chapter  |  Next Chapter

Word Count: 1,582

Chapter Summary: The events of the Games have Teki’s head spinning.

A/N:  This is the calm before the storm.

Thanks for reading! 

TW: Mentions of child abuse

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @moumouton4 @berriemalfoy

if you want to be tagged, feel free to just send me an ask/message! :)

Read it on Ao3!

Teki picked at the sash of her dress as she sat in her seat on the podium. Before her, the Games continued in all their raucous glory, but she barely registered them. Odin hadn’t spared her even a passing glance when he returned to his seat. Frigga had given her a reassuring smile, but there was a tightness in her face that blocked any comfort she may have intending to bring. Her mind was racing.

What are they thinking? Are they angry? Am I in trouble? Are they going to tell Osvald? Does he know what happened?

And then there was the other thing. The thing that Loki had said just before she went rushing from the tent.

I don’t want you to marry my brother.

Teki didn’t even know how to try to untangle her thoughts on that.

The words still rattled in her head even as she readied for bed that night, once she realized that Osvald was far too drunk to remember whether or not she stayed in her seat the entire day. After helping Brant into his nightclothes and tucking him in, Teki returned to her room in a pensive silence.

I don’t want you to marry my brother.

A secret, selfish part of her had always wanted him to say that. It had been easy to deny when it was hidden away, out of sight. She could ignore the butterflies that fluttered to life every time he smiled at her when it seemed she was the only one who could feel them. But Loki had released them into the wild, and now they were impossible to corral.

I don’t want to marry your brother either.

Tears prickled across her vision. Teki wiped at her eyes in frustration. None of them wanted it. Loki, Thor, Sif, herself—none of them wanted this engagement. And none of them mattered.

She dug under her mattress for her father’s journal. She wasn’t certain that even the familiar script would be enough to soothe her jumbled thoughts tonight, but still she flipped through the pages in search of comfort. The search for her father had been put on the back burner while Loki prepared for the Games, but Teki hoped to continue it as soon as possible. Running her hands down the leather spine, she closed her eyes and imagined him walking through the door for the first time in years, imagined showing him how she had taught herself the pieces he was able to play for her, imagined him meeting Brant, meeting Loki…

Her daydream abruptly stalled when her fingers slipped into a split in the back cover. What? Teki glanced down in surprise. Had she torn the book?

No. There was a flap on the inside cover, a pocket that she had never noticed before. What the Hel? She pulled it open, peering into the grimy leather cavern. It was empty, save for a tiny piece of paper, folded into quarters and yellowed with age.

She recognized her father’s handwriting immediately, although it was a bit more polished than the hurried scrawl she usually found in his journal. It was an unfinished letter, she realized dimly, dated the week before he left, addressed to her mother.

Áslaug—

I understand your frustrations, and I realize your father has put you under considerable pressure. But I beg you to examine why this proposal is so important to you and ask yourself what you hope to gain from it. It’s become alarmingly clear to me these past few months that your highest priority lies in increasing your own social stature, and I fear that you have signed off on this marriage agreement only because of the benefits it would bring you and without a thought given to how it may effect Tekla. I know you argue that it would be good for her in the long term, and perhaps it would, but neither of us can know that with certainty. And in your greed, you would take away her right to choose her own destiny. I cannot allow that. I will not consent to my daughter being used as a bargaining chip for your family’s schemes.

Teki reread the words several times over, their meaning not fully dawning on her for a bit. I will not consent to my daughter being used as a bargaining chip for your family’s schemes. They were talking about her arranged marriage, obviously, but this couldn’t have been her father’s true thoughts. A marriage agreement could not be made official without the wholehearted approval from both sets of parents. He had to have agreed.

Although…

Her father left only a few days before the arrangement was made public. Actually, now that she thought of it, Osvald and her mother’s engagement was announced before her own. She remembered her mother’s frantic insistence that she accept her stepfather into her life as quickly as possible.

We have Lord Osvald, Tekla. He’s your father now.

If he believed Steinn would no longer be in her life, would Odin have accepted Osvald’s word as her paternal consent? Possibly. Probably.

That must have been convenient for her mother.

She remembered Völundr’s hazel eyes, how somber they had grown when Loki asked him if he had heard from Steinn.

I don’t know what happened that night, but I know there’s no way in Hel he left you of his own accord.

Teki closed the journal in a fog, tucking the creased letter within the pages. All at once, she felt as if she was going to be sick.

…

She had hoped for a chance to talk to Loki at some point during the night-long feast that followed the conclusion of the Games. The Great Hall was booming with boisterous celebration. Prince Thor had been crowned champion yet again, the perfect excuse for everyone to get wildly drunk. He certainly was making the most of it—in between overflowing mugs of mead and garbled chants with his friends, he pulled Sif across the dance floor and planted his lips firmly on hers in front of all to see. Teki pretended she didn’t notice the whispers, the scandalized glances as people turned from the Crown Prince to his would-be bride. She waited patiently in her seat for Loki to ask her to dance, fiddling with the sash of her crimson dress.

He danced with other girls first. That bothered her more than it should have. Teki knew of course that she had no claim on the younger prince’s company, but that didn’t quiet the feral growl gurgling in her chest every time she watched him bow to another. Mine. He’s mine.

It didn’t help that for the first several dances Loki didn’t even as much as look in her direction. At first, Teki bristled. Why was he avoiding her? Was he angry? Did he… did he regret what he said to her after his duel?

But as the night went on, Teki began to worry that there was something else going on. His frame was stiffer than usual. His quiet conversation somehow carried over the clamor of the Great Hall. The boy who usually preferred to remain hidden in the shadows seemed to be making a point of emphasizing his presence. She was relieved when he finally made his way over to her seat.

He bowed. “Lady Tekla.”  Teki barely masked a frown. Tekla? Yes, something certainly was off.

Still, she stood and curtseyed as if she thought nothing of it. “My prince.”

“Would you honor me with the next dance?” Loki’s voice was loud, and oddly stilted. Again, Teki felt as if he was putting on a performance. She nodded, allowing him to lead her to floor.

“Is something wrong?” she whispered as they navigated through the throng of merrymakers.

Loki shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “My father,” he hissed under his breath. “He’s had his eye on me all night.”

She glanced back towards the podium without moving her head. Odin sat back in his throne, his disapproving glare fixed solidly upon the two of them. Teki gulped.

“Are you in trouble because of me?” she asked. She thought of the tent, how she had fled first chance she got and left Loki to defend himself alone. Guilt festered in her heart.

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” he said quickly, pulling her farther back across the dance floor. “He’s just… concerned. That I’m getting in the way.” He grimaced, scanning the crowd surrounding them. “You need to dance with Thor tonight.” The words came out stiffly, as if merely voicing them aloud pained him.

“I can’t!” she hissed. Thor was in the corner, surrounded by a group of people Teki didn’t recognize, chugging a goblet of something as they chanted excitedly. “He never asks me.”

Loki followed her gaze, sighing. “He’s a fool. I’ll make sure he asks you.”

The song was nearing an end. She still hadn’t told him about the letter. Teki pulled his arm.

“Loki, I found something else in the journal,” she whispered. “About my father.”

The prince’s eyes widened. “Really?” But the dance was coming to a finish. Loki led her back towards the platform, the two of them wilting under Odin’s stare. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he murmured as he bowed, giving her hand a slight squeeze.

Teki nodded. “Goodnight.” She sighed as her prince disappeared back into the crowd and returned to her seat, resigning herself to a night of waiting for Thor to remember her.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Any tips for an aspiring social worker

+Be aware of any of your own trauma. Dont be one of the people who think they can do therapy AND get a degree at the same time. You will burn out, there are hundreds every year. Please dont be the person in lectures who takes yup 45 minutes crying over past trauma every session; you need to seek counselling for that from a professional who can help, not from your newbie classmates.

You may think its an exaggeration, but No. Unfortunately, no.

This ties in to your own biases, what you are likely to take to heart if the person fails, etc. You need to work with your supervisor around clients that may trigger something for you; or reconsider the role you are aiming for, etc.

+Have personal skills, you will be making and repairing relationships often. You can’t be someone who is super introverted and unable to start relationships with the clients; because often you are going to be the one doing the Hard Talks about difficult subjects. It doesnt mean you have to be a drill sargeant, but it means you need to have the confidence to talk with anyone.

If you’re a bit shy, work on talking to people and even looking into little courses. You’re not needing qualifications in public speaking, but you do need to have yourself in a position wherein you can talk to someone, even a whole family, or even lawyers, and police. Via phone, video, face-to-face, etc.

+Have work clothes and home clothes. Also court clothes, if you work in areas that need it.

Wear smart casual, you need to look presentable but not be like, dripping with diamonds and playing ‘rich person ministers to the Poors’. It happens, they get told off.

DO NOT WEAR SKIN TIGHT CLOTHES. Or ripped skinny jeans, or have your cleavage/buttcrack hanging out. Please. Strapless backs and short shorts also no.

Students sometimes turn up in this and it is dangerous. Especially the ladies. Sometimes you work with people who are very dangerous, who will interpret clothing for consent, and/or have incredibly low respect for women. When something happens, they will point to the workplace dresscode and absolve themselves of the situation.

Do not wear dangly earrings, scarves or thick necklaces/anything you do not want taken. And if in a hospital role, there are additional rules about what can and cannot be worn (bare below the elbow rule).

Also, enclosed shoes. IF you are in a service that assists families with dysregulated lives, or in the hospitals, etc, you will have strict policies about footwear for your safety.

+Get the flu shot. Trust me. Do it. You talk to so many people, by the time one catches a cold and you start showing symptoms, you’ve seen like twenty people and they all have families.

+Be used to working to tight deadlines. They are always there, esp in hospital social work where you legit have to account for every minute of the day and patient seen on this awful little system.

We are understaffed in most areas, and you will need to work hard.

BUT, self-care is imperative. Even if it is only making sure you leave before 9pm each night lmao.

+Be able to let insults go. You are going to be dealing with people often in the worst part of their life, be it mental health, in the justice system, having their kids removed, being disabled and persistently denied assistance, having significant alcohol/drug concerns, people who have experience extreme sexual harms or domestic violence, people who are being stalked, people in crisis etc.

At some point someone will call you some horrific things, or threaten you, or make nasty comments about you, etc. They may try to make constant complaints, etc. And as frustrating as that is, you have to understand their frustration and anger and fear.

You do not have to sit there and listen to them swear at you, that’s not what this means. It means that when someone is heightened and calling you a cunt, or something more inventive, you don’t give them the reaction they want; you can acknolwedge that they are upset/etc, or give them space by ending the call/leaving the room.

Think about when something happened for you and it was the Worst and you swore or threatened, etc. When you are calm, it seemed ridiculous, didn’t it?  But that was you processing big, complicated feelings in the only way that felt right at the time. Same for them.

+You need to be aware that some clients have done or experienced terrible things, but you need to be open to the individual within the trauma. For example, someone may not be showing their emotional distress or pain or grief etc in the way you think they should, so you might discount it. When, someone who has gotten to know the client is aware that they tend to do ____ behaviour when they are having flashbacks, which is not a behaviour normally associated with the trauma.

Also, biases again.  Just because someone is on drugs and denying to you that they have a problem, does not mean some part of them isn’t aware they do have one. Relapses are common. Soemtimes it is about discussing what was happening for them this week that made them use again, what they could try next time, if they are using their support networks. And never putting them in the Hopeless box.

If you are really struggling with a client, lean on your team, talk to your supervisor and see what else can be done or if there is another social worker with more experience who can be involved even for a short-term intervention.

+Don’t throw jargon and insider terms around when talking to clients, it’s rude.  Explain things, use pauses so they can think.

+Look into the primary populations of your area/the area you intend to work in. Are there a high level of Indigenous persons? Refugees? People whose first language isn’t english and may need extra help with engagment?

What are your immediate thoughts (learned stigmata/stereotypes) about these peoples? How can you learn more?

In Aus, we work closely with Indigenous communities and agencies around social work matters. Making sure everyone is supported, heard, and can understand the concerns being raised/what is needed to help the client move forwards. There are many people out there who see this as ‘coddling’ or ‘unfair to non-Indigenous people’; but it is simply making certain that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are on the same footing as any non-Indigenous client.

And that cultural options are put on the table, such as having a family member step up to take in a child whilst the parent is not well; or trying a community-focused approach to helping with a drug concern, and using the right agencies so that they have appropriate supports.

Would it be fair to have a non-english speaking client in a courtroom without an interpreter? Why?  Would you claim that they should know english and the entire legal system bc they were in your country? Of course not, that’s absurd.  But some people think that way.

Would it be fair to ask someone in a wheelchair to file a form on the top floor of a building with no elevators, by 5pm, or lose their home? Why? Would you think they are complaining or ‘lying’ if they were able to mobilise a few steps without the chair, on a good day? That they were being ‘lazy’ and ‘deserved’ to lose their housing? Of course not, that’s absurd.  But some people think that way.

When the military put men into service in the wars, they made anyone who could pass an english test an officer and the rest priovates who would die first in battle. Was this fair? Why not? Because it ensured the rich white dudes with private tutors got the best spots (totally unqualified) while the poor, poc and refugees were used as cannon fodder. Many could have been good officers if the test was about competence, but it wasn’t. Some people feel this was fair.

There are still people who think they ‘did the right thing’ whilst participating in the Stolen Generations; but then, they also thought taking babies from single mothers was appropriate too. That women couldn’t vote or be trusted with money, that is was ‘kinder’ to take a stillborn away and dispose of it without the mother ever seeing... rather than let her hold them, and say goodbye the way she needed to. Not to mention the english children shipped over to Aus to be used as little slaves and cruelly abused by Priests and Nuns and ‘upright christian citizens’. Not to mention lobotomies for when people were too emotional/refusing to play the game. Forcing hormone treatments on men and women to stop their homosexuality or sexually abusing them to ‘fix them’. Not to mention all the Twilight births nonsense where they tried to remove the pregnant person from the equation entirely, and it kept causing post partum depression.  Not to mention... Not to Mention... NOT TO MENTION...

We have a lot of broken little old men and women and nonbinary (who do or don’t realise it) now, because of these “helpful interventions”.

You need to be aware of the harm that has been done, and aware of your own practice, so this damage can’t happen again and again.

Understand that your perspective and the worries/concerns you hold are often different to those of the client, because you are individuals who grew up in very different ways.

And remember, being a rich white person in a high paying job with good social standing doesn’t mean you can’t be charged for drug possession or have child safety knock on your door about the bruises you leave. Never think people are Above being awful, and never Assume people are because they are poor, a different colour, have not had your advantages, or have a disability/poor mh or addiction.

Clients are people, like you. Never think that you are above needing help too, one day. We all do, humans are built to rely on the group, on the social bonds we make from the minute we are born.

+Do you overreact to things? Sometimes a client will tell you about something that happened years ago, but they may phrase it like it happened yesterday (because of how it has returned to their mind, etc), and if you were to overreact to that immediately it can break the relationship/cause harm. You could say, “I can hear that this is very distressing for you, thank you for telling me about this difficult event in your life. Would it be alright if I asked you a follow-up question about when this occurred?” Sometimes a client will disclose things to you, and the goal is to remain in the conversation. They do a lot of this preparation at university, but you also need to have a personal ability to not panic off the bat.

+Ask yourself, is there anyone I would refuse to work with... and then examine Why. How would you react if a person like that came onto your caseload?

+Do not become overly emotionally invested in a client. It will be said in training over and over again, but you need to have clear boundaries; and being too invested in their success can hinder your ability to provide appropriate assessments for the client. Meaning they are not getting the care they need; which can sometimes be a harsh conversation about how you can see they are trying, but have backslid recently, so what is happening?

+Look at any internal biases and prejudices you may have. Did you have extreme mental health concerns that may make you feel more sympathetic to a parent or client, and this could blind you to the other concerns present? Didyou grow up rich and now have unrealistic expectations of what is necessary to be a good person? Do you think that all ‘those people’ should ______ ? Why?  Question yourself. If you find yourself stereotyping or pigeonholing someone as ‘just another ____ trying to _____’ stop. Think about it. Where did you get that idea?

+Be aware of professional boundaries, do not be friends with the clients, but don’t be cold. Always let your bosses know about potential conflicts of interest to protect you.

Like, don’t loan the client $5, don’t hang out at the cinema because they’re ‘a great person’, etc.

And be aware that you have more power in this dynamic, so you have to be careful not to abuse it.

+You need to be good at record keeping, and honest.  Everything you do is documents, referrals, reports, affidavits, forms, and a million little notes for this and that. It is imperative you are accurate, use the format required, and be honest. If you saying “Have you tried not taking drugs?” to a client sends them into a rage, you don’t write “Client was heightened and threatened me without reason at today’s session” in the notes. That’s putting a knife in their back.

”Client was triggered when I, the practitioner, made an inappropriate remark (”Have you tried not taking drugs?”) today. They told me I am a “fucking whore who should kill myself” and threw their chair across the room before leaving the building. I have discussed this matter with my supervisor, and we are going to call Client at 3pm today, to provide a formal apology for this statment and attempt to repair the professional working relationship, as they have been making significant progress with this agency until today’s event.” Whole scenario, tells the real story. You will make mistakes, but it is about being able to accept this and move forwards.

Accurate documentation is a must, may be needed for court.

+You will need to have a good memory. A good way of keeping little notes to unlock the full encounter when you write casenotes and reports.

+Make connections. Every client will need a support system around them, and if you have an inroads with different agencies, it will help them out. For example, if your client has drug concerns, then being aware of the agencies and counsellors in the region broadens their safety net.

Knowing the practitioners gives you someone to ask for professional advice around, say “Good Morning Kim, I know your agency handles Centrelink application often for non-english speaking clients. I have a client who is new to the country and is struggling to complete the financial aid forms, they speak Language. Would I be able to refer them to your agency, or will they need a more specific agency who handle Language -speaking persons?”

You have, in a deidentified way, sought help for a client through a known agency and can now refer them pending the answer. Etc.

+If you are not sure about something, ask your supervisor. They have several years on you, and almost all areas of social work prescribes to one or another Acts (legal requirements) which they are required to have a strong grasp on.

Get to know any legislation in the area you are aiming for. This will help immensely.

+Doing a degree gets you two fieldwork practicals, in different areas.  These really help you identify which area you want to go for; your main goal going into a degree may not be the one you settle on. Many people have an idea where they want to work and change their minds after their placements, or really feel connected to a different area, etc.

+Mostly, be certain this is what you want.

Have your own support network.

Be aware that you must uphold confidentiality, at all times. No posting to social media people, please...

Be aware that in small communities you are likely shopping at the same place as clients. Ask them how they want you to react when you see each other in public (eg. please don’t acknowledge me, or happy to give a wave) so they feel comfortable.

Don’t disclose personal information to a client.  There’s a difference between “Yes, I can see that you are having trouble with baby; I recall they get quite fussy at teething time, have you tried a cold biting ring?” and “My son, Chadley, is eight but when he was two he used to just keep biting the furniture and his poor teacher, Mrs Allyways! At least he’s grown out of it now, but I just know Bailey’s going into that phase soon, the dangers of having kids a few years apart!”

I know who your child had as a teacher, and now the school as well, esp if its a small town. I know you have two children, their names, and your last name so I could go get them from school if I wanted to. I know you work until 5pm, and someone could pick them up.

Etc.

Mostly, be a decent human being who does their best and doesn’t walk in thinking they’re better than everyone, and you can do okay. Have a good support network, use them, and seek help if you struggle.

Uni is drawn out and a bit boring, but you will get a lot from it (even if you only see it in hindsight).

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

so since I’ve been talking about The Music Man a lot recently, it is time for the story of The Time It Traumatized Me In Eighth Grade And As A Result Caused A Middle School-Wide Disciplinary Incident [but I do still love this musical because it was not the musical’s fault]

so. the time and place is my school (pre-K through 12th grade) in the first half of 2016, when the middle schoolers were presenting The Music Man, Jr. As an eighth-grade performing arts nerd, I of course signed up (my school was small enough that anyone who signed up automatically was part of the cast) and after auditions, I managed to get Marian Paroo. hooray!!!

other relevant backstory: in the fall of 2014, my now-IRL best friend transferred to my school. we were pals at first but when we realized that we were each other’s biggest intellectual competition, we became frenemies, but shortly before second semester of eighth grade we’d finally gotten over ourselves and become friends.

so, there was this one girl in our class who was super-popular, and she happened to hard ship me and my now IRL-best friend, but neither of us was interested in dating anyone, much less each other. the problem: she’d also gotten most of our class to ship us.

so fast-forward to the Valentine’s Day dance. it’s the last song of the night, and some kid not from our grade asks the two of us to dance with each other. not assuming anything (which was a huge mistake), the two of us decided to dance with each other as friends. unfortunately, the super-popular girl filmed us dancing together and used that as more ammo to ship us.

the main point of that story is that I probably should have seen what was coming next, but I didn’t because I tend to think the best of people.

so fast-forward again, this time to mid-April. by now, dress rehearsals are starting, and that means no slouching on the acting, which meant that my Harold Hill (a seventh-grade boy, and by the way, I should mention that I skipped a grade and my birthday is in late April [if you’re reading this right after I posted it, my birthday is today, actually], so we are the same age) and I had to act every last cringey lovey-dovey bit of “Till There Was You”.

now, this super-popular girl was apparently hellbent on shipping me with every remotely realistic boy, and without my knowledge, she stood in the wings and took several awkward photos of the scene. and then she edited them, drew a lot of hearts, tried to insinuate that we either were dating or should date, and then spread them all over Snapchat.

now here’s the thing: I didn’t find out about this for several days. for one thing, I didn’t have Snapchat (and I still don’t) and for another, even if I had Snapchat, my parents had literally confiscated my smartphone (which they had given me) in the sixth grade and only allowed me to even use it on very special occasions. I wasn’t even allowed to take it to school. and no, I couldn’t use it at home either, particularly because they’d hidden it and I didn’t know where it was and couldn’t very well snoop. but I digress.

anyway, the reason I found out about this was because six days before opening night, there was a birthday party for one of the girls in the class. everyone was invited to lunch at the girl’s parents’ restaurant and then afterwards, the girls got to go to her house for a sleepover. (yes I was allowed to go, although that was almost revoked due to an unrelated incident that happened right before about which I will not go into detail; no I was not allowed to take my phone.)

during the party, my now IRL best friend pulled me aside, whipped out his phone, and said, “Hey, I really think you should see this. (super-popular girl) took these and sent them to the entire grade on Snapchat.” And then he showed me every single one. And I about died of mortification right there.

Three days later, there was another dress rehearsal, and it was all going fine and well. We started “Till There Was You”, and as luck would have it, my path of vision went directly into one of the wings, and I saw not one, not two, but three cellphone lights pointed directly at me.

and I froze. it was either freeze or break down because I didn’t want what had already happened to happen again, so I froze and couldn’t bring myself to do anything for the rest of the rehearsal.

after rehearsal, three seventh-grade girls approached me and asked me what was wrong. I spilled everything to them, and it turns out that they were the three whose lights had been on, but not for malicious purposes: they had been trying to prank the boy playing Harold with the “flashlights a la at a concert during a slow song” thing, but had thought that he and I were on opposite sides from where we actually were and as a result had shone them at the wrong person. they also had no idea about the Snapchat incident from the previous weekend and they genuinely apologized.

then the director asked what had happened and I told her everything. and effective the next day, she banned cellphones from the entire auditorium area for the remainder of the production.

also the next day, she apparently told the Middle and High School Dean because I was called in and questioned for several minutes about everything and then let go. it turned out that the dean eventually questioned the entire eighth grade about the incident.

well, the rest of the production went off without a hitch, but come Monday, the dean and the PRINCIPAL came into eighth grade study hall and spent the ENTIRE PERIOD lecturing everyone about respecting privacy and not taking and spreading photos without consent. and everyone knew exactly what was going on, and I was already embarrassed enough, and to top it off it was my birthday, so I was red as a tomato the entire time.

I’m not sure what punishment, if any, super-popular girl got, but she left after that year...but only because her chances of getting basketball scholarships were better if she went to public school (yeah even then she was over six feet tall). And even through senior year, peers and even family members (who still engage in this even though I’m in college and an Adult) continued to ship me with both my IRL best friend and the boy who played Harold Hill. so things didn’t really get a whole lot better on that front.

anyway, that’s that. glad it’s out there and not just in my mind and in the faded memories of everyone involved. don’t ship IRL people without their consent.

[hesesols]

For Queen & Country

Day 17 of Ichiruki month 2020: Coronation

Summary: She knows her place. She is merely a pretender to a princess and marries the King in the former’s stead.

Rating: M

FF/ao3

.

"Father, what is marriage?"

Byakuya Kuchiki, Lord of Western Rukongai – father, duke, kingmaker; stilled.

Bright violet eyes stared back defiantly, wisps of midnight black hair teasing her nape; taking after his late wife in both temperament and appearance. She was tiny- barely reaching his knees and he easily picked her up, setting her on his lap.

"It is what happens when two people decide to live together forever," he told her.

Here, the child frowned. Forever, sounded far too long. A quarter-hour for lessons and a day for songs under the sun- those were reasonable terms of engagement. She couldn't even sit still for her lessons much less consider something that would mean longer than a day.

Still, she thought of the potential advantages to the arrangement. Miss Hinamori gave her sweets if she behaved during her lessons and sat very very still. Some days, when she was especially good, she would ask Miss Hinamori for chocolate.

The governess had laughed and called her a word- shrewd, she wondered what it meant.

Her eyes narrowed, if she could endure her lessons for sweets and desserts- surely that must mean that there are greater things to be gained from a long-suffering pact as this?

Folding her arms very solemnly, she asked her father to name the price.

"What would it mean for me?"

.

A bride- fine gossamer silk, bolts of colourful fabrics woven of every colour known to man, bone-china, her mother's pearls; blessed, cherished, happy, loved.

A wife- bearer of the world, the silent matriarch, keeper of secrets, manageress of a household and an empty bed; tried, dignified, wise, experienced.

.

But those are visions of a man old and weary of the world, she will learn of the Truth at her own pace. He gave her something less tangible- facts.

"When you marry, you take on your husband's last name and share your fortunes with him, take care of him, obey him, give him ch-"

He caught himself just in time. As fascinating as the conversation was, Lord Byakuya did not fancy a conversation with his daughter on the matter of baby-making and answer her queries on how children were made.

That would come much later and at the hands of an experienced governess, preferably.

He cleared his throat loudly and looked at his daughter who had the most thoughtful expression set on her face while chewing on the ends of her braids. The cogs in her brain turned.

.

Everything?

.

Her young mind was devastated- that meant her favourite cakes and sweets, even that sweet little rabbit that she had rescued, half of everything she had was some horrible boy's future property?

Boys- like Renji, were horrible and mean, they had no appreciation for fine, pretty things like her drawings, they liked to tug her hair and call her names. They were rough, rude and were more wont to destroy than build.

Her dolls- china, and straw-made, still bore scars as a testament to their ill-treatment at the hands of her unruly siblings.

"Must I?"

"Are you a good person?"

She nodded vigorously. She obeyed Miss Hinamori instructions and did what she was told (most of the time). There was also the time when she saved a rabbit from the cook's horrible dogs. The rabbit- she called him Chappy, now lives in a pretty cage and was served fresh carrots daily. Miss Hinamori had praised her and called her kind, so she must be.

"Then you should," he said.

The raven-haired noblewoman in-the-making made a face.

"That is absolutely mad, Father," she tugged on his sleeves and fixed him with her strongest gaze, "why would people do such things?"

"For duty, honour and sometimes, love, my dearest."

.

The girl frowned- 'duty' and 'honour'. She held both words in contempt with a vengeance unbecoming for a Lady of noble status, for it was used with relish when seven year-olds were made to do what they were told.

It was her 'duty' as a future Lady of noble birth to be in bed early, to share her toys with her visiting cousins, to find dancing and other leisurely activities like playing the piano-forte as natural as breathing. And much to her dismay, she would find that as the years passed, the list too grew. Now, her 'duties' even included making 'scintillating' and 'polite' conversations with even the rudest of her associates. The words did not gain any favour at the hands of her father- who was a far more eloquent speaker than Miss Hinamori and infinitely more superior in his knowledge of the world.

Rukia was made to feel stupid and insignificant when they come out to play.

Renji says 'love' with a tone that sealed it as the most despicable thing under the sky and she supposed she would agree with her adopted brother for once- it must be a dangerous and strange thing indeed for some people to willingly share half of everything they owned with another person, especially with icky boys and their grubby hands.

Furthermore, she was reminded of the cloying sweet smell of perfume that her older cousin favoured upon the arrival of her betrothed. The older girl with her sudden airy, breathless tone of voice and her betrothed with the oddest smile on his face that frankly made him look foolish. Miss Hinamori had claimed that it was because it was a love match between the young couple and it did not happen often in people of her circle.

She wrinkled her nose and prayed that she never succumbed to it.

.

"Father," she began solemnly, "I do not think I shall ever marry."

The normally stoic noble smiled at her. Children have such amusing ideas and thoughts. Keeping his face straight and trying very hard to remain stern, he told her.

"We shall see."'

.

.

.

Inevitably, she learns.

Love is tradition- Kuchiki Manor in all its daunting glory and untouched forest, family- her brothers, insufferably rude as they may be, warmth- her father, in his infinite wisdom and sagacity, companionship- Miss Hinamori, her surrogate mother and confidante.

It is like wine- aging well with the passage of time and a fruit of labour known only to those who have endured and triumphed together and then content in the arms of each other, have stayed. It is tender- kisses on the cheeks, bear hugs and booming laughter, and it grows out of the fondness of one's heart and intimate wishes.

Marriage on the other hand is sudden and tempestuous. It is the unsuspecting storm that came with all the fury known to God, the end to unspoken promises and ill-kept vows.

It comes when a Royal Princess flees the machinations of her own Father. It comes at the bidding of a Mad King with even wilder ambitions- thinly-veiled threats and open affronts. It comes with her dowry-horses laden with riches, ballads and tapestries, rolls of expensive furs and leather skins, a procession of servants, craftsmen, artisan- bearing coat of arms, her motherland's pride, the history and culture of her people- an entourage befitting of a Royal Princess; and ends with her hand offered on a golden pedestal.

It is duty and honour, the sealing of two nations bound now in kinship- it is momentous, sweeping and public.

It is anything but her wedding.

.

She knows her place. She is merely a pretender to a princess and marries the King in the former's stead.

.

.

She stood tall as she said goodbye to all that she has ever known to be home. Her brothers said very little and too much all at once. Her sacrifice burnt them and that mark singed the family tapestry. Hath they hung their heads down for shame or sorrow?

Her father appeared- stoic and wordlessly pressed her mother's pearls into her hands.

.

.

She ascends the steps to the throne room looming ahead- a sea of unknown faces and stunned silence. She is veiled and shrouded in white- made to stand next to a man she was to call husband for all eternity and become mother to his nation. She hears the words and murmurs of the clergyman, gives her consent when the holy man bids her to, bows when it is expected of her- but processes very little.

Her husband-she stares at the brown-eyed stranger with wild hair and watches with muted horror as he slides the golden band onto her finger.

.

.

"Play the game as you were taught to," he told her. Scarcely daring to meet her eyes, he gripped her hands tight. Yes of course, the charade must hold- should the truth be made public, the consequences will be severe. He laid another necklace- heavier in weight and heritage; around her neck and clasped it shut.

It felt like a sentence- a Deadman's noose hanging around her neck. He kissed her cheeks.

"For duty and honour- Lady Rukia Kuchiki."

.

.

"For as long as I live, I shall cherish you and it is my hope that our union shall beget a prosperous future for both kingdoms."

His words sound like a scripted play. She grips his hand perhaps a little tighter in response- a show; she must always let them see who they want to see- a bride, a happy, beautiful, willing bride who is elated at her marriage to a young King.

She smiles and he places the jewel-encrusted tiara upon her head- her crowning glory.

The heavy weight and the gravity of her decision sink into her. She will serve the Crown and her King- she will be a good wife, she will honour her vows, and she will be Queen.

"My kingdom is now your home and the fate of her people- her people shall honour you as their Queen."

.

.

"Remember your lessons," he whispered as she turned to leave. The Court across the sea may have different heralds and customs, may style and culture themselves differently, and favour soaring towers instead of domes, but all Courts are snake pits. Know one and you know them all.

She looked into his eyes and nodded.

She marched out of the centuries-old manor- head held high, shoulders squared for upon it laid the fate and honour of her household. She spared no further glances at the Manor as she climbed into the carriage- within her Kingdom at least, Lady Rukia Kuchiki has ceased to exist the moment it was decided that she would marry a King in the eloped princess's stead.

.

.

She keeps her gaze on her husband- high cheekbones, strong jawline, thin lips, deep set eyes of a curious shade between brown and gold. She sees a man in his prime, broad-shouldered and tall- shaped and molded as though he was one of those heathen Gods.

She is young but not naïve. Trepidation lines her thoughts.

What does he have in mind for her- Queen, envoy, impostor?

He bends down slightly to unveil her and kisses her on her lips chastely. When he draws away, he remains expressionless and she reads nothing from his eyes. The erupting cheers from the crowd distract her and she heaves a breath of relief.

How odd it is that a duke's daughter who has never even dreamt of seeing the blue sea, would someday find herself heralding a procession of her nation's finest to a Court so many leagues away, of taking part in a scandalous hoax for the better of two kingdoms.

First princess, now queen to a gilded nation of hyphenated names and odd houses, married to a man whose first name she doesn't even know.

Perhaps such is the strange way of life.

.

.

.

It is as expected, a politically-fuelled marriage between him and his foreign bride.

His ministers of course, waxed poetries of her beauty and grace. She is to bring with her the riches from the Court beyond the sea, skills and knowledge from another kingdom, books written and inventions made from the best amongst their contemporaries, spices and trade.

Her blood is old, the noblemen of his Court reminded him- a scion of a noble and powerful kingdom, steep in tradition and a well-known history of bearing prodigious sons. She will bear him strong heirs- sons to carry forth his name and legacy.

What more should a young king, still childless and only sisters for siblings, desire? It is no secret of course, should he die now, issueless- the throne will go to a viscount from another kingdom- a son of his great-grandaunt's bloodline, a man who has never even set foot on this land.

Yet as he regards his young wife, he frowns; she is not what he expected.

.

"Who are you?"

She stiffens but the smile on her face doesn't falter. If nothing else, he at least commends her on her acting and composure.

"What do you mean, my lord?"

He rolls his eyes, takes another sip of the wine as he keeps his hand on the small of her back, leaning in to whisper to her ears only.

"You're not the Princess."

He has seen the Princess Orihime once. Though from afar and hidden in the shadows, while he was passing through a neighbouring kingdom under the guise of a different name. A serendipitous affair that ends with a dance for the two of them, and a kiss on the back of her hand as is proper.

This woman in front of him, heralded by so many as beautiful, virtuous and kind, and a million other things associated with that of the paragon of queenliness, and for all intents and purposes, his wife and future mother of his unborn children; is not that woman.

The two are nothing alike.

Her smile quivers- it's the first crack in her defences.

"You are mistaken, my lord. I am the Princess Orihime."

They're surrounded by courtiers. Each one more devious and sycophantic than the other; Rukia is determined to clench her teeth and bear through the confrontation. To any and all onlookers, they must appear to be, at all times, unruffled and polished.

He says nothing more after that.

A lord so-and-so comes forward to present himself and Rukia contents herself by letting her mind wander while the portly man dawdles on about the festivity of the occasion, on what a grand wedding it was, repeats the word 'grandeur' and 'blessed' for at least three more times before the King sends him away and in parting, flourishes with a deep bow, murmuring how he wishes only the very best for the royal couple.

Neither of said couple deigns to utter a syllable more to each other as the festivities and merry-making continues.

.

.

The King's Bedchamber is where they retire for the first night to they consummate their marriage and mark their beginning as a pair- from henceforth, princess and daughter no more, but a Queen she will be- till Death spares them the misery.

Moonlight pours forth from the open window into the darkly lit room. Rukia is clad only in the sheerest of silk and bare underneath it. She feels vulnerable under his gaze, more so when his hands grab her by the wrist and tugs her towards him.

Alone with no interruptions from her ladies-in-waiting and his stewards, he continues with the unrelenting rounds of questions, fingers digging deep into her flesh.

He asks her again.

"Who are you?"

She sighs, lowering her gaze respectfully, recites it all with an even tone.

"I am Princess Orihime. I—"

He laughs- mirthless and cruel, cutting her short when the hold on her arm becomes tight enough to bruise. She hisses in response.

"No more lies. Or would you prefer me calling you by another woman's name even when we are in bed?"

She clamps her mouth shut.

"It's not that hard. I only need a name."

Silence still.

"Well if you are so unwilling. Perhaps a member of the entourage would be more forthcomi—"

"My name is Rukia."

The glare she shoots him is fierce and not at all like the simpering front she puts up.

"Who are you, Rukia?"

She bites her lips.

"A nobody."

"And why would they send me a nobody instead of the Princess, Rukia?"

Her breath hitches when his arm brushes against her side, glide across the rise of her breasts and leans in close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath on hers. Fingers busy themselves with the hemline of her nightdress, cut far shorter than she is used to.

"I don't know."

"Where is the Princess, Rukia?"

She keeps quiet, clenches her fists tight enough that her nails dig into her palm. She mustn't say a word or give away the unfortunate circumstances that brought her to him, to this country and Court. The Mad King is watching even now, his spies lurking among her entourage and numerous attendants.

Her family- her father and brothers are all under his mercy.

She can't.

The price of failing is much too steep for her to bear.

"I-I don't know."

She looks at the young King dead in the eyes and lies anyway, uncaring if he sees past her lies or takes them at face value.

"Oh, is that so?"

There is a rip in her gown. The flimsy material gives way with a rough tug and Rukia steels herself, looking into her husband's eyes- amber, dark, knowing; as she steps out of the puddle of ruined silk and kisses him.

He tastes of wine- the richness of it lingering on his lips; and secrets- many of which she will never be privy to, but that's fine too. She has no use of his heart. The stiffness in the set of his shoulders gives way when she winds her arms around his neck and cards her fingers through his hair.

Sex, she has been told, serves as a good distraction- if nothing else.

He doesn't fight her.

There's a growl of approval as sinewy arms snake around her slim waist and pulls her flush along his body and under him on the bed as he does away with his clothes. Underneath them, he is broad-chested and beautiful- the lines of his body carved and sculpted like a work of art with perfection in mind. A scar here, a mark there; a trail of wispy golden hair that marks the length of his torso, leading to the –

"My eyes are here," he teases.

A collision of lips, teeth and tongues as his lips find hers again. There is heat there, a fire that she stokes when her hand brushes against his arousal- intentional or artless, she doesn't know; not when his molten gaze strips her down to her very core of neediness.

The suppleness of her flesh and her tender sex is his to do as he sees fit. His fingers tease at her nipples, parting the folds of her dripping sex and she gasps as they slide knuckle-deep into her.

"Ichigo," he tells her in between heavy grunts.

"W-What?"

She is more than a little breathless under him and the way her sex clenches and tightens- she hisses. How meaningless words have become.

"My name. You should know. That's the name you should be screaming out when I make you come."

She doesn't remember much after.

The rest of the night is a blur and blend of heady emotions, the stickiness of his spent on her inner thighs- soft moans barely recognizable as hers while he sinks into her- heavy with want, and makes a home in her warmth. Oh quivering muscles, the tight coil of nerves unravelling, the snap of his hips and the gleam in his eyes- golden and wild.

She soars and peaks with him in tandem until dawn is but moments away and he withdraws with a soft murmur.

"Sleep."

.

.

In the morning when her ladies-in-waiting find her, she is covered in bruises and bites. The ruined silk- a weak excuse for a dress to begin with- is in tatters on the floor and the unmistakable stains on the sheets mark the sharing of sins and desires.

She is sore and aching over patches of black and blue. She doesn't want company.

But company stays.

The King's orders they crow and the smiling ladies titter, nervously ushering her into a warm bath with scented oils and rose petals. The nice-smelling blend they lather into her hair sooths her tired body, enough for her to regain thoughts and some use of her limbs.

The King is an ardent lover and thorough in his exploration of her. Even now, Rukia doesn't think she has the energy left within her to even crawl unless prompted.

"Is he everything you had imagined?"

Rukia flashes back to her childhood memories. Of her at her father's lap- on the transactional nature of marriages and bridal price and dowries, and the meaning of duty, honour and love; she laughs—

And doesn't stop until tears stream down her face.

.

.

.

FF/ao3

Sneak peek for IR royalty AU dedicated to the lovely @animeokaachan​.

I couldn’t resist.

Review, like, comment, reblog or drop me an ask to send some love my way.

[airis-paris14]

Dress Up 5

Summary: She’s not his fiancee, but no one else needs to know.

Warnings: None

A/N: Hey guys, so... ummm. It’s about to get real ugly in these next few chapters. There’s some cuteness to break it up, but, yeah don’t say I didn’t warn you. Love you guys... don’t hate me.

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 ||

“My lady,” Sirobie moans as Eshe shakes her awake. “Her Majesty Queen Mother requests your presence in the great hall urgently.” The student sighs and sits up noticing that Kasigo is emerging from her closet with an outfit. “Time is of the essence, your ladyship.” Sirobie hops out of bed, her mind replaying the last twenty-four hours. She grabs the hangers from Kasigo and rushes into the bathroom. What could she have done wrong? T’Challa hadn’t said anything, she’d assumed the day had gone well. He’d even joined in playing with the children. 

The children. 

 Kamyra abhorred children. She groaned and tied her coils into a puff. Five minutes later she emerged from the bathroom awake, frustrated, and nervous. Both of the maids curtsied and led her to the great hall. It’d been a little over a month, yet the palace layout still confused her at times. “Where are Lesedi and Leena?” Sirobie cracked the silence that had enveloped the trio.  “Lesedi had a passing in the family and Leena took the day off,” Kasigo answered. “Oh. Please send Lesedi my condolences and let her know that she is in my prayers.” 

The group stopped in front of the great hall doors. “As you wish, your ladyship,” Kasigo responded. The women pushed open the great doors, curtsied, and hurried out shutting the doors softly behind them. Sirobie glided, executing the now perfected walk, over to the couches where Shuri and the queen mother sat. “Good morning,” she greeted settling into the couch across from Ramonda. “I only wish it was, Shuri murmured. Sirobie frowned and Ramonda pinched her daughter. “Did I do something wrong?” Sirobie looked in between the women. She thought that at least they had truly enjoyed her company. “ You have done nothing wrong my dear, but I am afraid this problem is out of any of our controls.” 

“Yeah the media and people who make a living ruining other people’s lives are at fault for this one,” Shuri sighed. T’Challa hurriedly entered the room. “What has happened? They said you needed me urgently.” 

“Yet you still took your sweet time joining us brother,” Shuri sassed. T’Challa glared before settling next to Sirobie.Shuri raised an eyebrow at the two as her mother spoke. “This is the headline not only here, but across the world,” the queen slid a newspaper on the coffee table. “King T’Challa and his fiancée bond over children in hospital,” T’Challa read allowed. A large photo of him and Sirobie, who was holding the infant, while speaking to the three-year-old, was plastered under the headline. They were both gazing lovingly at the children and each other. They looked like a family, Sirobie shook the thought away as T’Challa’s voice yanked her back to reality. “I do not understand. Is this not what we want?” 

“Read under the headline genius.” Sirobie takes the paper from T’Challa as he fuses with his sister. “Just months ago Lady Kamyra, soon to be Queen of Wakanda, declined to hold any children and all but publicly declared her disdain for children. Could her change in heart be fueled by the expectancy of her own bundle of joy? Rumors of pregnancy started flying after her fall at a state ball, hosted in her honor, that was attributed to dizziness and fatigue. Coupled with multiple inside sources reporting her to have a more cheerful, honest, and open disposition around the palace and in person, many begin to wonder if we should be expecting a new royal family member,” Sirobie trailed off looking up at the bickering siblings who’d gone quiet.

 “It goes on from there to explain her background and your engagement. Their point is valid. If I did not know you were not Kamyra, I would suspect a pregnancy as well. We must do damage control. If a pregnancy is suspected the elders will begin to push for an immediate marriage, so that the child is born within the boundaries of wedlock,” The queen sighed, “we must buy ourselves time to locate the real Kamyra before our hand is forced.”

“What should we do?” T’Challa sighed and reached for Sirobie’s hand. She allowed him to take it, surprising herself and Shuri, who’s eyebrow lifted once more. Sirobie turned back to the queen, “do everything you can out in public. Drink wine, coffee, eat fish. Anything a pregnant woman shouldn’t do, you two should be seen doing. Within reason of course.” 

“So when we go out to dinner tonight, I will order fish and red wine,” Sirobie somewhat asked, partly telling T’Challa. He nodded in consent. “Sounds like a good idea for starters,” Ramonda co-signed. Shuri looked at all three of them in bewilderment, “You two are going out...tonight….together… uncoerced, and unforced….” she looked between Sirobie and her brother, “just for funsies?” 

“That is what people do when they enjoy each other’s company little sister,” T’Challa smirked. The king kissed his mother’s forehead before exiting the room. “Yesterday, you two weren’t even speaking for fun as far as I knew, now you’re going on a date with him?” 

“It’s not a date. We’re just getting to know each other as friends. He’s already engaged, remember,” Sirobie smiled. “ I’ll see you both at breakfast? I’m going to lay down until a more decent hour when breakfast is served.” The queen’s mother smiled and nodded giving Sirobie permission to leave. Shuri turned to her mother, “I am not losing my mind, am I? You see it as well?” 

“I’ve seen it since he met her. The boy was infatuated. Is infatuated. He is just too afraid to end his engagement with the eldest of the Habredies. For what reason? Only Bast knows.” The queen sighed and headed back to her own chambers. Leaving a bewildered princess in her wake. 

“Where are we going?”Sirobie asked as she walked down the hall with T’Challa. The sun beamed through the large glass windows lining the front of the palace. “I thought I could show you the city.” T’Challa pushed open the front doors of the palace and held it as Sirobire glided through.

“You do know I’ve been here for four months before we met right,” Sirobie smiled as they descended the palace front steps. “Oh,” T’Challa frowned. “You really were not listening when your mother introduced us were you?,” Sirobie teased. 

“What are you studying?” T’Challa finally looked up at her. “Film with a minor in Studio Art. Painting specifically. I’ve been to a couple of museums and worked with some local artists and craftsmen. Especially the weavers. I enjoy their work the most,” Sirobie explained, her grin splitting her face from ear to ear. 

“I am glad you have enjoyed what Wakanda has to offer,” the king nodded turning back to face the road as they continued their walk into town. Silence sank in as Sirboie took in the sights of the city center. She’d only been here a couple of times with the Zulas when they insisted on taking her out for dinner. T’Challa watched her smile grow silently admiring the way her eyes drank in the city like it was her first time visiting. “Sirobie,” T’Challa broke their silence, both of them hopping out of the way to avoid the monorail train as it let its passengers off. The king found an empty breezeway and pulled Sirobie up the stairway to an open terrace overlooking the square. “I owe you an apology.”

Sirobie froze as the king turned to her, reaching for her hands. “I was not the nicest person to you when we first met. I know I explained why but I never apologized for, or acknowledged, the hurt it caused you. You probably felt alone and anxious about everything. The exact moment when I should have reached out to support you I chose not to. I treated you like a nuisance instead. I sincerely apologize for that.”

“T’Challa you do not have to apologize. I am not your fiancée-”

“What if I want you to be...”

Sirobie felt her mouth fall open. Suddenly the market felt miles away and so did the terrace under her feet. The sun was too hot, too bright, and it was suffocating. She glanced up at the king to find that he looked equally as surprised and mortified by his own admission. Sirobie knew that he’d never intended to let that slip. “What I mean is,” he fumbled through the beginnings of an explanation. “I know that you are not my fiancée and I wish we had met under different circumstances. Regardless of that, you were here doing not only myself and my family a favor, but the country of Wakanda one as well. You uprooted your life for your last two months to dive into this situation you knew nothing about. The least I could have done was support you and try to get to know you as a person,” the king rambled. 

“I think that you attempting to get to know me now is a start, and I appreciate your apology. I really do. I would like to get to know you as well, but for the first month I was here we were not on the best of terms. That is not something that just goes away. I also apologize for being a little hot and cold with you as well, especially after the hospital. I think we should focus on just getting through today together, disproving the baby rumors, and enjoy each other’s company,” Sirobie offered a small smile and gently removed her hands from his hold. T’Challa face fell slightly and for a second Sirobie felt bad. Sure, she knew how he claimed to feel, but part of her just couldn’t trust him fully. This wasn’t middle school, grown men don’t pick on and ignore the girls they like for their attention. She hoped to see more of the T’Challa she saw yesterday in the future but only time will tell. She wasn’t going to rush into something only for him to close himself back off. 

She couldn’t say that she wasn't attracted to the king, especially after seeing him with the children yesterday, and in his admiration of her work. It helped that he was unbelievably handsome too. But he wasn’t hers to have. In a month’s time, she'll be back on campus for graduation and he’d be back with his fiancée planning a wedding. Unfortunately, they just weren’t meant to be in this lifetime, but maybe they could become friends at the end of it all. 

“Sirobie? Are you alright?” T’Challa’s frown pulled her out of her own musings. “Huh?” Sirobie took a step back, their closeness quickly becoming disorienting. “I asked if you were ready to eat lunch,” T’Challa frowned. “Um sure. I’m sorry for zoning out,” Sirobie allowed the king to guide her back down the stairs. “Do you do that often?” The couple emerged back into the street.

“Sometimes when I have a lot on my mind.  Luckily it’s not that big of a deal in my line of work,” the student jokes. The king cracked a smile. They walked up to a small glass front cafe and were escorted to a table in the center of the large window. “Are you sure this place is good? There is no one else here,” Sirobie commented and the king chuckled. “I called ahead so that we could have the privacy to speak freely and not worry about pretending to be engaged. So you could speak as yourself and not Kamyra.” 

A man emerged from the back and placed identical fish meals in front of the couple. “Thank you,” Sirobie and T’Challa smiled as he placed a bottle of wine on the table before exiting. “The owner is a friend from grade school. None of the staff will repeat anything they happen to hear,” T’Challa explained as they began to eat. Sirobie raised an eyebrow “And the window is for paparazzi?” 

“Yes, unfortunately. T’Challa sighed. “They are not like American paparazzi. They will not ambush us and will mostly take photos from a distance so as not to disturb us. It does help them if we don’t know they are there. You cannot act for a camera you that you do not  know exists.” 

Sirobie nodded enjoying her meal. “So tell me something about you. Anything. Where’d you go to college? Highschool? First love? Weird habits? Hobbies? Favorite joke?” Sirobie grinned and T’Challa laughed. “Come on. I’m an open book. You can ask me something first if you would like,” Sirobie goaded while taking another bite of her fish. 

“Well, you have met my family, what is your family like?” T’Challa questioned taking another bite of his fish.

Sirobie pauses and clears her throat, “Well. We aren’t very well to do. My parents do the best they can. They always took us to museums and spent time with us when they didn’t have to work. We’re all very close and I miss them terribly,” Sirobie admitted. “Have you not spoken to them since you’ve been here?”

“I write them letters weekly. I’ve had Kasigo take them to the post office on her way home once a week for me since I’ve been in the palace. We can’t afford international calling and I don’t understand the post system well enough here for them to be able to write me back. I’m sure there are dozens of letters waiting for me back at the campus post office when I get back.” Sirobie jokes half-heartedly. T’Challa frowned. “I am sorry. I did not know.”

“It is alright. You couldn’t have known. I can’t wait until I can see them again and tell them about Wakanda. My father would love the integration of nature and architecture. He wanted to be an architect before he had to drop out of college to support my mom when she became pregnant with me.”

“How many siblings do you have? Just two: a younger brother and little sister. Ahj and Soliel. Ahj is 17, he’s about to graduate high school in May. Soleil is just five. She’s my little mini-me,” Sirobie chuckled.

“What does your brother want to study? Film I believe. I missed decision day and since I haven’t talked to them, I’m not sure what school he’s gonna be attending,” Sirobie’s face fell, her heart aching at the milestones she’d missed. She’ll just barely make it home in time to call Soleil for her birthday. Her parents didn’t think they’d be able to swing plane tickets to graduation. T’Challa noticed her change in demeanor and made a mental note to arrange for her to be able to call her family. “Enough about me though. Tell me something.”

“What would you like to know?” The king placed his fork down and sat back from the table. “You have a choice. Either tell me about the first woman you loved or, how you ended up in this situation with Kamyra?”

T’Challa frowned and Sirobie broke into laughter. “Your question was easy. Why would you give me a hard one like this?”

“Hey! You let me choose. Bad decision on your part,” Sirobie shrugged and took another bite of her fish to finish it off. “Why do you want to know anyway?” 

“I mean, we are pretending to be engaged, I might as well learn who at least one of the other women is,” Sirobie took a sip of her wine. When T’challa didn’t respond she raised an eyebrow, “Unless they are one and the same?”

The king laughed placing his own wine glass back on the table, “No they are each their own equally sad story. I will tell you the condensed version of both,” The king sighed, “My first love was my best friend in grade school. Nakia. We dated for a while, then she decided to become a war dog. She loved the adventure and felt tied down at home. She took more and more missions until we barely saw each other any more. She knew the life that came with staying with me and she did not want to be tied down, and I would not ask her to stay here and be unhappy with me. Then my father passed and I had to ask for Kamyra’s hand in marriage. We met a few times as children and she was a sweet person. She was spoiled though. Kamyra is not a fan of this arrangement either, but I will not sacrifice Shuri like that, and she and her father know her marrying me is more favorable than our younger siblings marrying. So she seems to have decided that she will take out her disdain, for her predetermined fate, on me and Wakanda.”

“Hence the running away?” Sirobie hummed. T’Challa nodded and reached for his glass.

 “Thank you for sharing with me.”

“Thank you for listening,” T’Challa sipped his wine, “I feel it is only fair I ask the same question of you.” 

Sirobie sighed, “There is not much to say.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have never been in love. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a relationship long enough to be in love with anyone. My longest relationship was two months in high school long distance. I hadn’t even kiss a guy until college,” Sirobie admitted. 

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing. You waited until the time was right for you.” The king took a bite of his own meal. “That’s easy for you to say,” Sirobie snorted, “I’m sure you were Mr. Popular Ladies man in high school.”

T’Challa shrugged, “Sure, but it wasn’t because of who I was as a person. It was because of my position, which is why the only person I was ever involved with was Nakia.” 

Sirobie nodded, “That makes sense,” The two ate in silence for a few minutes, “Do you miss her?”

“Nakia?”

“Unless you miss Kamayra?”

The couple both started laughing. “I do miss Nakia from time to time, but she is much happier out there than she could have ever been with me. When you love something, you let it go.” Sirobie offered the king a small smile and nod as he explained. “That is really sweet,” She smiled, daring to reach over and squeeze his hand. The king squeezed her hand back and they both left them settled on the table. The worry that she was trusting T’Challa too easily nagged in the back of Sirobie’s mind, but there was nothing she could do at this point. Their time together was short and she wanted to leave without regrets.

“I like this side of you,” the college student sat back in her chair and looked over at the king. He looked up from where he had been signing the receipt. “I hope I can see it more often.”

“I would like that too Sirobie,” T’Challa placed the check back in its cover. He stood from his seat and extended a hand. “And, I think that can be arranged if you are up for another adventure with me right now?” 

“There’s no time like the present,” Sirobie grinned and they headed back into the streets. A few blocks later, she found herself in a market in the center of town. “Have you been here before?” The king called into her ear.

“No, I’ve been saving up to get some presents for my family before I leave.” She replied. “There is no time like the present,” He chuckled. They wove their way through stands Sirobie picking up a few trinkets along the way. Eventually they stop at a jewelry store and from across the store, the king notices Sirobie admiring an emerald cut diamond and vibranium ring. “You like that one?” The king pointed. Sirobie looks up startled. “Umm, yeah. It’s beautiful.” 

“You should get it then,” He gestured for the clerk to grab the ring from the case. The man looked up from his phone and his eyes widened once he realized who he was in the store with. He bowed and stumbled over himself to grab the ring and hand it to the monarch. “T’Challa I couldn’t aff-” Sirobie started. “May my fiancee and I have a moment in private,” T’Challa cut her off and the student widened her eyes. “Of course,” The man saluted his leader and went to the back of the store. “T’Challa I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking about being out in public.”

The king reached for her hand and chuckled, “It is alright, I should have thought about that earlier. I want to get to know the real you. That includes everything you have to say to me.” Sirobie nodded as he pulled their fake engagement ring from her finger. The filmmaker's breath hitched as his long fingers caressed her hand. “What are you doing?” She breathed. “You said you liked it, did you not?”

“I do like it.”

“Then you’re going to try it on-”

“But T’Challa what do I need an engagement ring for,” Sirobie interrupted. The king raised his eyes from her hands as a smirk blossomed on his lips, “We are engaged are we not?”

His brown eyes bore into hers as the cool metal slipped over her skin. Sirobie’s heart leapt into her throat and she felt as though she would faint. As much as she didn’t want it to, this felt right. She’d always imagined this moment, albeit a very different scenario. The man she loved would be down on one knee, grinning up at her, she’d be dying of anticipation. Her nerves would be fried, her mouth hanging open in surprise, but the one thing she was sure of was her answer. It was always yes in her dream. 

She didn’t love T’Challa, at least as far as she knew, and this could never be. He would never be down on one knee in front of her. He was to be married and she’d be halfway across the world when it happened. Though, perhaps inexplicably, this felt so right and she never wanted the moment to end. She was brought back to her senses by his warm voice and fingers. It’s a little big, but that is easily fixed,” the king grinned and pressed a kiss to the large diamond. Sirobie chuckled lightly, drawing back her hand to admire the ring, “You are an absolutely insatiable flirt.”

“Sometimes and only for pretty girls,” the king bantered back. Sirobie reached to take it off. “Allow me,” the king insisted, “I’ll have them resize it so that you can wear it.”

“You’re seriously going to buy it?”

“Yes,” T’Challa frowned.

 “I already have an engagement ring though.”

“That is one of my mother’s old rings. You deserve to have one that you actually like. Especially since you can’t have a man that deserves to place this ring on your finger,” The king trailed off. “I’ll go get this sized-”

“HELP! Please!” T'Challa and Sirobie turned towards the voice yelling from outside. “Stay here,” the king ordered running out of the door. Sirobie caught the ring box and followed him to the window. Seconds before she could make it to him the store window shattered and gunshots rang in her ears. 

“T’Challa!” She stumbled her way through the front door of the shop where she saw him face down on the ground. A scream clawed its way out of her throat. “Somebody do something please!” She turned the king up to face her and pulled him into her lap. She searched frantically for a bullet hole but couldn’t find one. There was a notable lack of blood as well, and the king had changed clothes. He was covered in a suit of some kind. “T’Challa? Are you there? Can you hear me?”

“Lady Kamyra! What happened?” Okoye asked as she ran up to the couple. “I don’t know,” Sirobie frowned at the un-responsive king, tears running off her face. “I don’t know. We were in the shop just looking around and someone started screaming for help. He ran outside and I heard a gun go off. And then the glass shattered and when I made it out here he was on the ground. But I can’t find a bullet hole and he’s not waking up.” Sirobie sniffled and panicked through the explanation. “Breathe,” Okoye pulled the student away from the king’s body. Ayo and other Doras surrounded him. “General,” it’s inside his suit,” Ayo called. “Demethi. Damn it,” Okoye groaned, “Call the princess. And get him back to the palace now. The herb can only do so much. Go!” Okoye ordered and helped Sirobie to her feet. 

“We will be back later to help with the damage,” she informed the shop owners who were looking on. The crowd nodded solemnly as she helped Sirobie walk back to a jet. Sirobie was silent as she stared out of the window. “I shouldn’t have agreed to go shopping with him.”

“This was not your fault,” Okoye rebutted, “there was no way you could have prevented this. I should have been there with you all but he insisted on going alone. We could easily blame ourselves, but that would do neither of us any good.” 

“He was right. Trying to get to know each other is just a bad idea. We went on one date and now he has been shot in the chest.”

“This was not your fault. We will get to the bottom of this. But you need to be strong for T’Challa and for this country. People just witnessed their king shot, for what we hope is not, dead. I know that you are not Kamyra. But T’Challa, and this country, need their Queen and she is you.”

@sarahboseman @waitingonafriend @thiccdaddy-mbaku @sarcastic-sunshines @ororowrites @derangedcupcake @mzbritt @leahnicole1219 @dramaqueeenamby @marvelheaux @skysynclair19 @halfrican-heat @kaciidubs @queertrex @kumkaniudaku @purple-apricots @autumn242 @thedelightfulone @90sinspiredgirl @royallyprincesslilly @wikiwakanda @chaneajoyyy @sisterwifeudaku @sarahboseman @tchoking @almostpurelysmut

[lavenderek]

So you're saying you don't think "underage" fic is gross. Is that what youre saying?

well, no. yuck. what i’m saying is, what exactly and specifically do we want to happen?

there should not be explicit fic about underage characters, got it. so what age can they not be under? 18? 16? what country’s laws regarding the age of consent do we prioritize? like, i think it’s gross that the age of consent is 16 in some places, but i’m an american, so i would, wouldn’t i? so ok, what if we hedged it a bit and put the age as like, 14? that way it’s not little kids, it’s all teenagers. but no, gross, 14-year-olds are children. fun fact: so are 16-year-olds. they are also children.

what about fic about two teenagers having a consensual encounter? should all romantic or sexual fic have to be about adults only? your answer to this may very well be “yes,” and that’s completely valid. a teenager writing fic might disagree. somebody who’s a big fan of a show that’s about a bunch of teenagers might disagree. should there be an adults-only section on the site? there’s already a “stop, you have to be 18″ box to check before you can access explicit fic, so how do we verify a user’s age? they can just lie about their age and click through anyway. you have to be 18 to make a youtube account and i’ve had one since i was 13. i remember very deliberately choosing a new birth year when it asked for my birthdate.

then you get to slightly greyer areas like large age gaps, or heavy role play between consenting adults. i have absolutely witnessed fic that’s clearly written to be CP, but it’s tagged as age play. so like, for all intents and purposes this is CP, but if you roll in like “hey, this is fucked up,” they can be like, “oh, so you read this picturing actual children, sicko?? you have a problem with two adults doing shit in the bedroom??? how dare you!!! don’t like don’t read!!!”

it’s kind of like on porn sites, how they make like nasty inc*st stuff but call it “stepmom” or whatever, like oh, they’re not actually related! sure, joseph, thanks for covering all your bases

so we can’t ban kinks. or can we? should we limit depictions of serious addictions or domestic abuse too? torture, or even body horror? these are generally accepted to be dark content.

i’m not trying to engage in whataboutism, i’m naming actual, relevant questions about shit that’s disturbing in real life (no offense to kink people who follow codes of consent and conduct) and can be incredibly upsetting to encounter online. shit that i can’t imagine wanting to read, let alone write.

these are the questions that we, you, i, people pro-a*3 and people anti-a*3, are all asking, and not a single one of us can or should answer them unilaterally.

so it’s like, oh, okay, so there should be no oversight at all? should there be no rules? no, obviously, that would be horrible, i don’t trust any of these fuckers to conduct themselves civilly. so there should be some rules, but not too many rules. that’s what we have now, and clearly the way things are now isn’t working because a lot of users are reasonably very upset.

should there be a voting system, and rules are set by a popular vote? should certain words be flagged and you can’t post the fic with that word in it? should there be a thing where when you post a fic, you have to select the ages of each character and that’s listed at the top of the fic? what if they age during the fic? should there be a flagging function, where you report someone for not using sufficient tags? users will find workarounds for all of this. you know they will. so mods will have to be very specific about the rules and introduce, like, a vetting system for it. which is a lot more manpower and a lot more chances for subjective judgments.

all of the above is why it operates on a tagging system instead. i’m gonna be real, i only go on a*3 to read comments on my own shit lmao, and even when i did go on there more often i never went in the tags searching for fic. so is there a blacklist function? is there a flagging function?

if there is a flagging function, maybe they make it so that if the flagged user has violated the rules, their account is suspended and their fic made private for the duration and until they add necessary tags.

cool, a compromise. but uh-oh, it turns out Mod A agrees that this fic is n*ncon, but Mod B thinks it’s just vague, not n*nconsensual, and doesn’t feel comfortable banning the fic. or it turns out User didn’t post anything flaggable, they were reported by somebody who is targeting them for some reason, or by someone who is more stringent about n*ncon than somebody else would be, like, it’s gotta be enthusiastic and verbal consent or else it’s skirting the edges too much.

it’s like, we’ve already witnessed censorship (please take this word usage gently, i know it’s touchy but it’s the word to use here) being a problem here on tumblr with their stupid nipple ban. there’s a double standard regarding whose nipples are explicit and whose are kosher for public consumption. people have to appeal their shit getting flagged and sometimes nothing gets fixed regardless. i’m sure other people are pleased that there’s less of a chance of them accidentally scrolling past a picture of a hard dick at work.

so you get it, this is a problem that’s more complicated than “all of x should be banned and if you post it there’s something wrong with you,” a belief you’re more than entitled to hold but can’t base, like, fanfic legislation off of. you get it you get it.

you get it, but like, what is the fucking deal with those “fandom moms” who go off on soliloquies about the days of old or whatever the fuck whenever this topic comes up? what about the weirdos who are like, “what’s next, banning gay fic????” yeah, if we allow gay marriage you can marry a tree, that’s how it works, thanks tiffany.

but no, the reason they do this is NOT that they think lgbtq content is comparable in any way to CP. the reason they do this is that this exact problem has taken place on every site that has ever hosted fic. and many previous sites did think lgbtq content was comparable to CP. it was categorized as adult content and hidden.

that’s why a*3 exists in the first place. it was to avoid godmodding and absolutism. it’s supposed to be more or less self-governed. i don’t want there to be CP on a*3 any more than you do, but i also don’t trust randos to decide what is and isn’t acceptable content. this topic is not new.

i’m in support of stronger government regulation in real life because it can be argued that certain actions and systems violate human rights. everybody deserves food and shelter, for example. the same can’t be argued in this case because some creep writing CP doesn’t violate my rights. i find it offensive and i don’t think they should be writing it, but my right to click the back button is intact. there is no institution making it impossible or even difficult for me to not read fanfiction. the creep could just as reasonably argue that their right to post what they want is being affected.

why is this response so long? is it because i can’t shut up? yes, but also because this is a complex issue and that’s why nobody has taken significant action on it.

people are also big mad.

i’ve never understood this impulse to see somebody not doing a thing you want them to do and assume it’s out of malice or incompetence, anyway. i don’t know anybody who volunteers for a*3 but it’s my assumption that given the choice to have us all pissed at them, or have us all not pissed at them, they would choose to have us not be pissed at them. it just seems like the reasonable reaction to have. and like, i’d be pretty shocked to part the kimono and find out they’re all CP-loving gargoyles and a*3 actually stands for A lot Of child abus3. that is the reason i have not been like, “fuck a*3.” because what are they supposed to do, you know?

there’s no simple or inarguably morally right solution here. the princess is in another castle. just post fic on tumblr, i guess? make another hosting site that’s exactly like a*3 but romantic characters can only be like, 21?

i actually think the legal age in the US should be raised to 21, not joking. your brain literally and biologically isn’t finished developing at 18. teenagers lack the world experience to make decisions that adults make.

somewhere there is an 18-year-old or a person who moved out and became self sufficient at 18 who hates this sentiment. there’s a teenager in an abusive home who would be intensely demoralized by the prospect of having to remain beholden to these people for three more years.

and there’s a parent who is relieved to know that their kid can’t be preyed on by army recruiters for three more years. there’s a person who got into a car crash with a teenager who misjudged whether or not they could make a turn who’s like, yeah, she could probably have benefited from a few more years.

nothing is as simple as it should be. i agree with you, but i’m not willing to pass blanket judgments with regards to actions that should be taken. and honestly, given how little i actually go on the site, i don’t even have a dog in this fight. so all my opinions on it are moot anyway.

(side note, if you are in an abusive home and you can’t make your own bank account, or if your bank account is monitored by your abusive parents, maybe try venmo? you can get a debit card that pulls directly from your venmo balance. a surprising number of places accept venmo payments, and this way you can save up money in secret.)

anyway uhhhhh seeya

[akimmito]

Heroes are made by the path they choose

Previous | AO3 | Next 

________________________________________

Chapter 4

Chloe Bourgeois is not having a good day, the National Assembly has spent the whole morning discussing the mayor's ridiculous decisions regarding the orders given to the MT and, indirectly, to the heroes regarding the danger of the new villain.

She's the youngest member of the 577 deputies that make up The National Assembly of the French Parliament, having the minimum age to enter the elections and having demonstrated her worth, far from the stigma of her father as mayor, she won a position. And she has been doing everything possible for the good of France (especially Paris, with the miraculous butterfly still loose).

The arrival of the first Akuma in seven years shocked the entire country. She knows the senate must be chaos too and not to say the presidency, she can only imagine the Elisha Palace on fire with everyone screaming as they run in all directions… Or, a similar scene, many adults almost yelling in panic while pretending not to panic. It's good that the meeting is held in private.

Which brings it back to the real reason for the whole discussion, since the events with Hawkmoth, the French Government has been more involved in what happens (which should have been from the beginning being because is the capital of the country) and they have been active in trying to laws allow arrest for embezzling the use of a prodigy (leading to a long list of crimes). And when she joined, she did her magic and started talking about a way to prevent someone from using the prodigies to misuse, making the MT an organization recognized by the Government for the protection of Paris (therefore, the heroes also have that faculty to be treated as part of a whole) and of France as a whole; they have access to the government, the MT is above the police in power to enforce the law, but always maintaining its independent character (not that someone should know it and she has said nothing, all to prevent Marinette from giving an attack for that).

The entire process involved each State Institution and lasted four months; it was stressful, but two months later, everything is going smoothly and the news no longer mentions prodigies, evidence of jewel magic and any non-butterfly mentions have been removed. Additionally, anyone posting information about the prodigies will face legal charges accordingly.

The only requirement for this was to provide a list of the official members (they didn't ask for identities knowing that it's dangerous), both teams gave their members and it was recently updated with the inclusion of Thuban.

Everyone is aware of the mayor's request and she's smirking, that inept is worse than her father. Ask the MT not to investigate a dangerous criminal who in just one day of his appearance caused at least a hundred deaths with her first Akuma? That the cure of Rakkīgāru (official name since last night, after making it clear that Ladybug is not a cloak with an immovable name) brings everything to its former state does not exonerate the murder.

France designed a maximum underground security prison protected with safeguards similar to those of the MT headquarters, where the most violent criminals are sent (so that they don't become weapons of the new criminal). Unfortunately the safeguards can't be put in all of Paris or they would start to cancel each other, so they use them for the important thing. Suzaku, who is Marinette's vigilant identity, is in charge of all the processes.

But going back to the important thing, she hopes that a new law will be created or the status of the MT within France will be made public.

She, of course, understands Felix and Marinette's plan. Agreeing not to investigate is another way to investigate while relaxing from active work because they went so far to say that the patrols are canceled for the entire week and if they ask, it was the mayor. And it was the two days of silence that led the vice president of the country that morning to send a message to the MT (something funny, if they ask her, just two days and they worry) and, therefore, to find out that the mayor asked them without giving an explanation (said by Corvus, Felix was very specific with his concerns about it and that they didn't want to cause problems with the government). That generated all the meetings she knows are happening.

At lunchtime, she escapes to the MT in search of Marinette or Felix, to tell her about government disaster they caused, to discover that the demonic blonde is in Romania supervising the recording of a movie and that Marinette went to her country house. Oh well, she can tell they after the chaos comes to an end. The only thing she finds is Kagami being hugged by Luka to appease her anger, a gracefully adorable image in her eyes.

____________

Alizee @AlizeeShin_

In my opinion, the government has reacted well to the return of the butterfly. I lived in Paris nine years ago and the government then did nothing. Good for us!

Elliot Renault @Elliot_Renault

The MT has been silent since the Akuma appeared, they have not been seen on the streets or on the roofs. The Government is treating the matter as the problem that it is, since today the institutions were in full swing and surely we will soon have news about it.

Chloe B. @QueenBourgeois

I need urgent vacations, a break from all this madness would be good. I 'm sure that all of Paris has the same desire.

Michel J. Laforet @LaforetLeGrand_

Such a scandal about a man, perhaps the heroes are not so heroic. They only accumulate failures.

Chloe B. @QueenBourgeois

@LaforetLeGrand Soon, all of Paris will know that it was your father, the ridicule that she asked the MT not to investigate, today at 8:00 pm on the National Chain;) ___________________

As the French Parliament catches fire figuratively and almost literally, Marinette is engaged in her little investigative work on the Mayor of Paris and his son, especially his creepy son, still remembering that he had to deter Damian, five months ago, from assaulting his home and murdering him (using methods intended to cause the greatest physical pain as he dies) for harassing her during a party (which they went to just because Chloe took them). Damian was ready to pounce on Michel with the first sharp thing in hand when he saw him put a hand on her butt; in the end, it was Felix who sent him flying politely with an explicit threat in his words.

"Mother, you are still working..." Damian is not happy, especially when he sees the face of the man who dared to lay hands on his mother without his consent (man who should be dead). He doesn't understand why she investigates them.

"I'm just curious, Pierre Laforet doesn't seem like the type who would want to sabotage our work."

"Yeah, Michel Laforet doesn't seem like a sexual depraved either, and I'm sure he's capable of raping a poor defenseless lady." There is poison in his words, he still wants to see him writhe in agony as life slowly leaves him. No man has the right to approach his mother with such impure thoughts.

"Could be..." She replies distractedly, reading on the surface, if she want to go deeper into them, she must do it from the MT.

"Mother, let's play with the dogs. They are happy to see you, too. ”Damian tightens her shirt sleeve to get her attention, not that he enjoys acting like the ten-year-old he is, but his mother needs a break from everything that stresses her out.

"Uh, fine." She closes the laptop and agrees to go out and play with the dogs, which are huge and knock her down as soon as she goes out into the yard, as a bonus, they also do it with Damian and the two ofthem are being overwhelmed with doggy love for four adult dogs, two puppies and a black cat (which is like a miniature dog for being raised by the two German Shepherds), Dafne only watches from the bottom in disgust.

Hugo watches everything from the kitchen window, listening slightly to Marinette's laughter and Damian's humorous complaints. The employees whisper beside her about how excitable canines are with their owners.

Those little happy moments are necessary to face the difficulties that arise and enjoy them to the best of your ability.

__________

Violet @SilkenLavanda

There was an explosion in or near the Louvre... I can see the fire from here. I doubt it's an Akuma...

Paris News @ParisNewsTWT

An explosion is reported around the Louvre Museum, people are invited to keep their distance. Authorities confirm that the cause was a bomb, two fatalities and eleven wounded. More information in the 6 o'clock newsletter.

Max K. @ MaxKan_Tech

What was missing…

[silversavant2021]

The Least Protected Group...Single Fathers!

There are several laws that protect various groups in our society, and in various areas...employment, wages, education, etc. According to the U.S Federal Law website, “these laws prohibit discrimination based on race, color, sex, religion, national origin, age, disability, and genetic information, as well as reprisal for protected activity”. However, although they protect according to gender, there is another group within gender which needs protecting in another specific area. That area is fatherhood, and when it comes to their rights to their children after separation, and/or divorce.

If we look through the articles online, and in booklets on custody we will see a great deal of information on what is called conservatorship and in all of these documents the deciding factor is a term called, “the best interest of the child”. In looking at that statement, we would think it would be both parents but it is not.

In Texas, the Family Code gives the father the same rights as the mother as far as custody of the children however that is rarely carried out. The mother is usually granted the position of custodial parent, even if the father is in a better position of stability in order to have the child(ren).

The imbalance has gotten so great until various states are beginning to take action on behalf of the fathers. In Massachusetts, a ballot initiative was created, and approved 85 to 15 percent on protecting the rights of the father. The ballot was an initiative to approve equal legal and physical custody of the children in the case of divorce. This ballot was requesting that “the courts uphold the fundamental rights of both parents to the shared physical and legal custody of their children”. And that state is not the only one requesting this by proposition on behalf of fathers. The Washington Post had an article by Michael Allison Chandler entitled “More than 20 states in 2017 considered laws to promote shared custody of children after divorce.”

One would have to ask; why is this necessary since most custody paperwork state that either parent has the right to conservatorship, or custody? It is because Family Courts use the concept called “best interest of the child” to decide who will hold this position, and that term is wholly subjective. Over the years, this term has been used to give custody, in most cases, to the mother.

Ms. Chandler also states that, “we are led to believe that the plight of fatherless children is caused by husbands walking out on their wives, fathers abandoning their children, and “deadbeat dads” when one of the best-kept secrets in American society today is that two-thirds of divorces are now sought by wives, not husbands”. She claims that the “feminist movement has taught wives that they can seek “liberation” by walking out of their marriage contract and marital duties and still reap the benefits of marriage, i.e. their children and his money.”

In considering the background elements of this controversial topic I interviewed Baba Richard and Sri Namaste Moore, who are “The Infinite Couple” and have a combination of 30+ years of experience, (and success), in dealing with men, women, and couples regarding relationships.

Sri Namaste stated that this basically started with “Women’s Rights” movement, and explained how this played into this situation of mothers being given more rights than fathers in the case of custody.

She elaborated on what two legal rights, which were attached to this movement, brought about:

• Women’s Reproductive Rights:

• Reproductive Rights — claims having the ability to decide whether, and when to have children—are important to women’s socioeconomic well-being and overall health. Research suggests that being able to make decisions about one’s own reproductive life and the timing of one’s entry into parenthood is associated with greater relationship stability and satisfaction.

• AbortionRights:

• AccesstoAbortion-IntheUnitedStates,the1973SupremeCourtcaseRoev.Wade established the legal right to abortion. State legislative and executive bodies nonetheless continue to battle over legislation related to access to abortion, including parental consent and notification and mandatory waiting periods. In addition, public funding for abortion remains a contested issue in many states: federal law has banned the use of federal funds for most abortions since 1977, and currently does not allow the use of federal funds for abortion unless the pregnancy resulted from rape or incest or the woman’s life is in danger. The Affordable Care Act of 2010 reinforces these restrictions, but state Medicaid programs have the option to cover abortion in other circumstances using only state, and no federal funds.

Sri Namaste stated, “Initially, women were supposed to be given Reproductive Rights/Freedoms however a woman had that already, and had already exercised her right when she chose to have unprotected sex. That was/is her exercising her “right to reproduce” by allowing herself to get pregnant. She had a choice to prevent that from happening by several different means.

“Then giving her the sole right to decide to keep the baby, or not, is giving her sovereignty as well. Now she has the right to decide “life or death” with impunity in the case of this child. Even though the child was created by the woman and the man; the father has no rights and even if he wants the baby, (which belongs to him as well), he has no right to it.”

Also, that baby is not “her body”, it is a whole separate entity.

Sri Namaste also stated, “The “double standard” is amazing! If the pregnancy is wanted then, even at the earliest stages, the woman celebrates the pregnancy. She will call the baby “hers”, buys clothes, has a celebration, names the baby, etc. And if she should “miscarry”, (lose the baby), she mourns, has a funeral, etc. HOWEVER, if the pregnancy is unwanted...suddenly it is NOT a baby, it is a fetus – a non-thing.”

I asked her how did all that plays into child custody?

She stated, “Because the woman has already been given “sovereignty” over the baby/fetus before birth so it just carries over when the child is born...she still has those rights. However, everyone should be sovereign over their own life, and when one has a child, that is a “separate” life which belongs to the mother AND the father who made it.”

“Also, because that child is a combination of the mother and the father, she shouldn't be able to make that decision alone, and definitely not on the behalf of the father. The state should be the entity who is stepping in to ensure decisions would be neutral, but they are not.”

I was surprised at how all of this fit together.

In order to get a perspective from a man, from a father’s point of view, and from one who had gone through a divorce and custody within in the court system, I then spoke to Baba Richard, who stated:

“I think fundamentally there is something that is happening here. Once you are a parent then being a good parent is based on time passing and you being engaged in that. In talking about the role of the father, what is happening and is implicit in the whole system is that fatherhood is irrelevant. The “state” is functioning as the “father surrogate” and making decisions as to what the state and the woman are going to do about the child(ren).”

“The father is looked at as an economic contributor at maximum, or somebody that if you refuse, or are not meeting whatever standard they say, economically, then you are punished. The system is already in place that you, father, are here to provide economics so the state and the mother can decide what they are going to do with your resources in order to decide what the future of your child is going to be.”

“Once one starts from a “faulty premise” all decisions after that...none of them can be, “well this is great”, because it is a “domino effect”. Look at fatherhood and motherhood as two parallel lines...train tracks, if you will...equal parallel lines and they must be because they both have equal responsibility for the welfare of what they created. Once we say the only “line” that matters is the motherhood line when going forward, then the fatherhood line veers off...we don’t need that, don’t want that line. So, once you engage with the state those two lines are no longer parallel, and never brought back into parallel. Fatherhood gets a “dotted line” which says “you can pay money but we will decide how often you see the child.”

“Visitation is something you do for someone who is “incarcerated”. You don’t visit your “prodigy”, you don’t “visit” your children, children don’t “visit” you. What are they talking about? Either we ALL visit, or nobody visits. Shared custody by default, NOT an arrangement the father has to negotiate his way into. The presumption should be that BOTH parents will share equal responsibility for raising the child(ren) that they have created between the two of them.”

“When you go into that equation with the idea that “woman create children”, and men- we don’t know what they do...but they are engaged in some level of “malfeasance” or irresponsibility because a child has come forward so now the state needs to come in to make things fair...better...more equitable, for the women. One has to wonder, “how is the state the arbiter between these two people?”

“There is a default belief/assumption that there has been some wrong-doing on the part of the man...the scales are inherently imbalanced and “justice”, the state, is stepping in to balance this inequity. The woman has been victimized by this man through the act of pregnancy and now the state is here to make things right again.”

“You, the woman, being right, and righteous, should be supported in whatever you decide to do. It is impossible for you to not to visit your children because the presumption is that the child is at home, and home is always with YOU.”

However, in the case of the man, let’s bullet point the situation and think like this... “Imagine a world where”:

-You are guilty before the proceedings even start.

-All you will get is a decision as to what level of punishment you will endure.

-You will never be found “not guilty” because this is the nature of things.

-You will incur penalties that are overwhelming in most cases.

There is no court of appeals, the only thing, the most you can get is a lessening of the penalty/sentence but you will have it until the courts decide that you don’t.

“Now where is this? In a foreign country? Or some weird dystopian future where everything has “gone to hell in a handcart”? No, this is what a person live with every day if that person is a MAN, and happen to get divorced from a woman, and there are children involved. Or weren’t married and there are children involved.”

I said, “I don’t understand, why doesn’t the courts give joint custody”? He said...

“It is inherently unfair, and I think that there is a presumption of “guilt” with respect to men who are in court...for whatever reason. When I went for my divorce, the judge, his attitude toward me was hostile for no reason. I am not a criminal, and was not there for an assumption of any criminal activity.”

“While waiting for other people to handle their business I saw many different types of cases. There were people who came through who had committed crimes. I had committed no crime, was only there due to processing a divorce. Me, and this woman, had decided we did not want to go forward in life anymore. I couldn’t understand how I warranted all of this “ire” from the judge? I didn’t know him, personally. We both, (my spouse and I), were there at the same time, and when he talked to her, he was nice, and soft spoken...and then when he talked to me it was, “well, what's this!!!” spoken in anger.

I asked him, “But there are documented “rules” that apply to everybody, even mothers; why aren’t they enforced? He said...

“Because there is another issue as to why things go the way they go. Men are not prepared. Actually, it is almost the opposite of being prepared. They are intentionally unprepared because number one, one of the things that I saw in the four or five guys that I know, including myself when I got divorced, is that they are emotionally exhausted...there is a great deal of stress, strain, etc....and a man has to still keep up everything while all of this going on.”

“One of the things about the linear nature of men is that we, we don't do well with this kind of “stress”. We don’t maintain hatred in “perpetuity”. Even if you look at a man whose been trained as a military soldier...yes, they may be upset about the enemy...but the actual pulling of the trigger, or launching the missile is very dispassionate. This is just a job that he is doing...combatants over there...we got them all right, cool. Let's go home, you know, but they don't usually keep that “emotional charge” every day.

“But it's one of the things about the feminine, and I've seen it, they can hold a grudge. Oh my God...even if the two people haven't been together for decades, kids are grown, and gone on and whatever. And it's like, you want to set her off, mention his name in her presence, and it's just like the day that they got divorced.”

“The point being is that when they go into this court situation, number one, most people don’t have any experience with this...it’s not like buying a car, one gets to do this many times so they know what to expect. When they go into this situation, it's the first time, and they don't know what to think or how it's going to go. Also, all they want is for the pain to stop, and they think that after this, we can be “okay”, it’s official.”

“Most men are at the point where they think, “You know what, I'll start over, whatever car, house, whatever things. I don't care. I don't care about any of that because being able to sleep at night”, even if they have to sleep on a pallet. However, here’s the hinge that door swings on...the men go into this thinking that what she wants is stuff, right? What they find out is what she wants is for him to suffer, and no amount of money, no amount of stuff, all the things that he gave, the “quid to the pro quo” that he thinks is going to happen... doesn’t!” 

And so that's a double whammy because then they're shocked because they're like, wait a minute, I gave you what you said you wanted...all the stuff. I let you have whatever it is that you want up to, and including what I considered the most precious...the care of the children. But now he finds that the woman, the court, and the state are thinking, “how much worse can we make this? What else can we do?” Whatever he thought he was going to give, that's not enough, and he is thinking, “Wait a minute, I gave everything so how can that not be enough? There isn’t anything more to give.” And the courts state, “you better come up with something because now we have rules in place that where we're going from present into the future. And now as a state, we can enforce those rules and say, not only have you given all of your material possessions presently, now we are going to look into the future and you will give all your possessions in perpetuity, or until the child(ren) are 18-21 years old.”

“Suddenly, he comes into this realization that the rules that are imposed upon men in that situation are only for men. There are no equivalent rules for women. So, if he doesn't do whatever the court says, then there are penalties and it is NOT that she can’t do what the court says and “be penalized”, it is because she has no rules!”

Personally, I was shocked, and had nothing else to say.

As I began to research further for the solution(s) to this challenge for “fathers”, I decided to do some research on this topic with “Father’s Rights” organizations. I found three agencies, and interviewed the three men who had started, and/or participated in them. What I found was confirming.

The first person interviewed in this arena was Joshua Banks, who is the Founder/Facilitator of IDADS, (Involved Dads of Action Developing and Succeeding), and he is the Program Coordinator. His agency has been in operation since 2015, and his motivation was dealing with families for 7 years as a Pastor. He assisted 300+ people through online summits, and approximately 80 fathers on a weekly basis.

He states, “It is always better for the child when there is joint custody however the system seems to be in opposition to this. It seems that “best interest of the child” always translate to the Mom. A majority of the fathers I deals with want to be involved in their children’s lives, and the few who are reluctant is due to the “toxicity” of the relationship with the mothers.”

His advice to fathers seeking joint custody to:

Engage the Mom, try to get her “onboard”.

As soon as the child is born, go to child support court, (whether you live together or not), so there will be no risk of “arrears”, (even if you only put payment as $100).  This is because even if you take care of your child, pay bills in the household, etc. the “child support system” does NOT acknowledge/recognize support paid OUTSIDE of their courts. This will make it easier when you go to Family Court regarding custody.

Build Credibility - Employment, shelter, and a proper environment for his child.

Effort - It won’t be easy, and he will have to “fight”.

Involvement - No matter how difficult it is made, stay involved!

Attorney - If at all possible, get an attorney.

His agency is currently involved with the Attorney General’s Father’s Rights Division; Child Protection Services - Father’s Rights Coalition; and the University of Texas - Child and Family Research Partnership under Dr, Osborn. His agency also receives referrals from Child Protective Services.

The second person I interviewed in this area was Isaac Rowe, who is the Founder of “The Man In Me”, and he is the CEO. His agency has been in operation since 2012, and his motivation was seeing the “fatherless sons” in his arena. He was also troubled by what he saw a friend go through not being able to be with his father...saw it from a “child’s” standpoint. He decided to tell fathers to fight for their rights, and more time with their children. He assists 300+ men through conferences, and speaking engagements, and approximately 80-120 men weekly/bi-weekly.

He states, “Joint custody is always best for the child because everyone is doing their part for the sake of that child. A father’s participation beyond “court appointed visitation” is very important, and valuable to the child. The biggest hinderance I have seen is that the judges will rule against fathers, and there is definitely a double standard.”

He doesn’t have much dealings with the agencies in the area however they have helped fathers to come to his meetings. His advice to fathers seeking joint custody is to:

• Try to co-bond with child,(easier when mom is onboard). • Take care of himself,(spiritually, mentally, physically, financially). • Get in programs to better themselves • Don’t give up,or sign over rights, [you will still have to pay child support]. • Show responsibility; employment, housing, etc. • Don’t get behind in child support payment; no child support arrears.

The last person I interviewed in this area was Marcus Griggs, who is the Director of Fatherhood Services at “The Man In Me”. His motivation was having a well-adjusted dad, and see what not having one had done to youth, and men. He transitioned from working with youth to working with men. Also, he saw the “system” was not set-up for “families”, (which included fathers). He assists 30-40 men on an average.

He said, “All the men I deals with want to “father” their children. I feel that it is better for the children to have both parents, and even research has proven that there is damage to children due to a lack of fathers.”

He states the biggest hinderance to fathers is: • They are not a consideration • They have to“jump thru hoops” to qualify which is not done with mothers. 

• Laws are not enforced with mothers.

His advice to fathers seeking custody is to: • Be prepared for an“intake”,which is required of fathers, only. • Get information - know what the requirements are before you go to one. 

• Be employed, have a residence, etc. • Have a willingness to fight for their child(ren).

He also said there is a program called “NCP-Choices” which assist fathers with “back child support” however there may be a qualification that the fathers have a “good” relationship with the mother. He also receives referrals from Child Support Services.

I must say that I did note that each person stated some sort of “appeasing of the mother” as a prerequisite to any possibility of getting joint custody, and even a service. This speaks directly to the bias-ness of that system.

In my research I noted several situations, these included the:

Bias-ness of Judicial Systems in Texas, [and in most states]:

-Fathers have to “appease” the mother in order to get visitation.

-Fathers have to “appease” the mother in order to get joint custody, even when he is qualified.

There are NO rules, requirements, regulations, or qualifications for mothers

Unfairness of the “System”:

• If a woman births a baby, and is unable to take care of it, she gets free

 “Government assistance/subsidies” in the form of:

• Medical Care • Food Stamps • Finances Aid

• Housing – Section 8 vouchers/certificate • Free, or Subsidized Daycare • Earned Income Credit on tax returns

However, if a father creates a baby, and he is unable to support it he gets:

• Excessive child support payments, and if he is unable to pay then:  

-He loses his driver’s license -He is put in jail. -His income tax is garnisheed.

-He is stigmatized, and alienated from his child.

My question is, “Shouldn’t the one chosen to be the CUSTODIAL PARENT be the ONE who is most capable of, and the most responsible in caring for the child with the LEAST amount of assistance from the government”?

Then there is the case(s) of:

There are REQUIREMENTS which the fathers have to achieve, and which have to be PROVEN in order to have visitation, and/or to be “custodial” parent, when the mothers do not.

If mothers do not allow the fathers to see their child on the appointed days, the courts do not enforce his rights, or penalize her behavior.  The father’s are sent to a different court for that.

Fathers are required to take “fathering classes/counseling” and to pay for them, while this is never required of the mother.

In my reviewing the “Standard Possession Order and Parenting Time” on the TXACCESS. ORG website I found the “visitation schedule” that is given to fathers, (yearly time given to spend with their child(ren)):

The schedule of time assigned to fathers in order to see their children are “every first and third weekend, every fifth weekend, 2 hours on Weds. or Thurs. each week”, every other holiday week, and 30 days in the summer. This amount to, (yearly-2020):

Regular Weekends = 48 days

Fifth Weekends = 8 days

Thursdays - 2 hours = 4.3 days

Alternate Hours

• Sub-Total is: 60.3 days a year

Holidays Weeks - alternate between odd/even years (additional 7 days when it is his year).

Summer Vacation - 30 days • Total of 90.3 to 97.3 days a year! That is not even 1/3 of the year!!!

As I began to look at the negative impact on fathers when the mothers are the “custodial parent” I realized something. As a mother of 4 adult children, and 18 grandchildren I realize that women learn how to be “good mothers” by being with their child(ren) on consistent, daily, hands-on basis. When fathers only have “visitation rights” that is minimal access. They do not get the opportunity to properly develop “fathering abilities”, to learn and grow with their child(ren), and/or to actually experience being a “father”. Also, if they aren’t as good at it as mom, then they are penalized for not being “good” at something they were not allowed to do by the court systems, and the mothers, who didn’t allow it.

Finally, there is another challenge to this...according to the US Department of Human Services/Child Protection Resources Online, mothers were more likely to abuse their children than fathers at a percentage of 70.6% vs 29.4%.

According to Allie Morris, of the San Antonio Express-News, it is reported that in 2018, 211 children had died from child abuse in Texas. It is also noted that in half of those deaths, CPS- Child Protection Services had been investigating the cases. If the statistics are true, (from CPS), then in most of those cases the mothers had custody. I have to wonder how many of those cases were because the children were allowed to remain with the mothers, instead of being given to the fathers.

Also, why are courts, and CPS, ignoring this information instead of making it a consideration when determining who would be in the “best interest of the child”?

As you can see, there is a need for legislation to be put in place not only to “protect” fathers from the bias-ness of what is already in place, but children as well. There needs to be a revision of the Judicial System on the behalf of fathers and their children for the future.