#the public is poorly behaved

[historian-in-pearls]

A fiftyish guy came up to me and looked me up & down and asked, “So exactly how long are those legs?” I can’t decide if I’m overreacting if I’m creeped out by that. Maybe he was just curious? But it was a weird vibe

[buckys-robot-arm]

Was gonna leave this in the tags but I changed my mind: WE WERE ALL KIDS AT ONE POINT, we were all loud and gross and intrusive and NOT ADULTS at some point when we were little. So you gotta cut them some slack, yeah I’ve got my sensory issues and they tire me out too, but we all live in a community, in a society, kids do too and they deserve to be out in public and learn how to People. So many behavioral issues people complain about, like 7 or 8 times out of 10, it’s because the parents of misbehaving children are FUCKING NONCES who think shoving a loud and overstimulating mini computer into their putty-brained* children’s hands and expecting cocomelon to do the work for them is A-OK. Call out the parents who are letting their children run amok in the restaurants

*not derogatory, their brains are simply very malleable at that age, which is Why parents need to be emotionally present in their children’s lives, not just physically, ipads aren’t babysitters

i feel like a lot of the 'i hate kids' crowd would be more tolerant if they understood that due to a kid's limited experience of the world that 4 hour flight might just be the longest they've ever had to sit still for or that trapped finger might literally be the most pain they've ever felt in their short life or they might not have ever seen a person with pink hair ever so of course they want to touch it or nobody's told them yet that they can't run around the museum and they only just learned cheetahs are the fastest animals so of course they want to put that to the test. how were they supposed to know etc etc.

[mattybsgroupie]

movies | matt sturniolo

contents: established relationship; handjob (m receiving); boob sucking/nipple play (f receiving); semi-public; sub!matt

notes: hello my darlings!!! SUB MATT IS BACK!!! nothing much to tell about this one, it's super short and super simple, just jerking him off at the movies lmao. not proofread but hope you enjoy anyways! thank you for almost 1,7K i dont deserve all of this love, yall are just fantastic.

- ♡ -

when matt and i first started dating, the movie theater was our favorite place. it was dark, comfortable, and no one would disturb us. as we grew into our relationship, date nights were no longer a priority, but we both knew how much we missed it. the innocence, the butterflies in my stomach, the nervousness about holding his hand, the giggly kisses and the awkward confessions.

“are we really doing this again?” matt asked me with the biggest smile on his face, adjusting his sweater. i nodded, glad that i was able to convince him to go out.

“we want… whatever’s next” he said to the cashier as he interlocked his fingers with mine, raising his free hand to his pockets, looking for his wallet. “yeah, this one” he nodded and grabbed the tickets, leading us to our assigned seats.

- ♡ -

i didn’t know how long it had been since the movie started. i would often lose myself on matt’s blue eyes, his skin reflecting the red colors of the big screen, his poorly done beard emphasizing his sharp features. i couldn’t resist placing a few kisses on his jaw, receiving chuckles and a squeeze on my hand, almost as if he was warning me to behave because he was actually interested in whatever we were watching. 

until the scenery changed. the lights turned warmer, the music slower and suddenly it was hard to breathe. i felt my chest raising on its own as the sensual atmosphere took over the room, matt’s grip on my hands tightening, silently asking me to take my eyes off of him and pay attention to the erotic scene in front of me. 

we didn’t expect such an explicit act. the actress had removed her bra, flashing her bare breasts to the few people at the movie theater. matt’s mouth fell open in surprise and i audibly gasped, quickly raising my palm to cover my sudden noise.

both of us turned our heads to each other, widening our eyes as we tried to hold back our laughs. “i promise i’m not looking” matt joked, pretending to block his view.

“you can look” i giggled, adjusting myself on the chair and getting closer to matt, letting my hand rest on his thigh. “i know how much you like boobs”

“well” he stopped for a second. “you’re right, but i’d rather look at yours” matt checked me out from head to toe, a grin appearing on his face as if i was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

i decided to be bold. my free hand moved to the hem of my sweater, pulling the cloth upwards and revealing just a bit of skin - enough to get him excited. i mentally thanked him for always choosing the back row, giving us privacy to our heated makeout sessions back then.

“please?” matt whispered, his digits reaching for my exposed tummy. “wanna see your boobs, please”. 

it was definitely risky, but i couldn’t resist his pleading blue eyes, the way his top teeth bit his bottom lip, how his fingers caressed my belly. what seemed like nothing to others was already too much for us, along with the adrenaline of doing the same silly things we did years ago as teenagers in love. i had blew him at that same seat several times, but it was different now. as if we weren’t supposed to be acting that way. and it felt too fucking good to ignore.

i finally gave in, pulling my sweater and revealing my breasts. i wasn’t wearing a bra, making this way easier for matt, who immediately shoved his face in between them, muffling a “thank you” i was only able to hear because it was a habit. he would always thank me for anything i gave, even my boobs. 

his beard tickled my skin as he moved downwards, resting his cheek just above my left tit. he wasn’t going to speak, too busy sticking his tongue out to tease my nipple before latching his lips around it. matt sucked so hard i left out a sigh, bringing my fingers to his hair, caressing his brown locks as i whispered how much of a good boy he was, which certainly didn’t help his impatient self. matt squirmed around on his chair, trying to get comfortable and ignore the growing tent inside his pants.

“need help, baby?” i asked, brushing my digits over his boner. matt nodded desperately, not letting go of boobs until i wrapped my knuckles around his covered length, making him gasp from the sudden contact. “what’s got you like that, hm? was it the movie or me?”

“you” he said, hiding his face on the crook of my neck. “always you”.

“such a good boy for me” i praised, receiving a muffled whine in response.  “nuh uh, keep it down. you don’t want them to hear us, do you?” matt denied with his head, jointing his hips forward, silently asking for me to actually jerk him off. i knew it had hit him too. the nostalgia, the excitement, the risk of doing something we shouldn’t. 

matt dragged his lips across my chest as i finally got a grip of his cock, placing my hand inside his pants and slowly pumping his shaft. he placed his tongue on my nipple once again, sucking it at the same pace i would stroke him. with long minutes of a lazy and steady handjob, matt was far gone — he couldn’t care less about the movie, frantically chasing for his orgasm.

i could feel his chest panting as i heard the heavy sighs coming from the back of his throat. matt was trying so hard to stay quiet and yet, he failed, letting out a cracked moan when i brought my thumb to his leaking tip, rubbing his slit as i tightened the grip on his throbbing cock.

“cum” he whispered to me, not opening his eyes. i pretended i didn’t hear it, my eyes glued to the big screen in front of me. “please, wan’ cum” matt spoke again, replacing the lips on my boobs with his hands, massaging my flesh.

he wasn’t getting what he wanted — my attention and permission. “princess, please” he pleaded, now covering my neck in kisses as he mimicked on my nipples the same movements i did on his slit. i savored the moment for a bit, hanging my mouth open as his kisses turned into love bites.

“hold it” i said, loosening my fist. matt whined at the loss of contact, throwing his head back in frustration. “you look so pathetic, baby” i cooed, running my fingers through his hair before cupping his cheeks. he looked so, so fucked out. “such a needy boy, aren’t you?”

“no” he pouted, blue eyes covered in desperation. “i’m good, i promise i’m your good boy!” matt said, moving his hips upwards, trying to get some relief to his aching cock.

“you’re gonna have to wait until a really loud scene comes up” i told him. “we don’t want anyone to hear this good boy cumming all over himself hm?” i asked with faux sympathy, feeling his length twitching against my hand. he wasn’t gonna be able to hold much longer.

“boobs” matt practically begged. “i will keep my mouth on them and i won’t make any noises” he said, more to himself than to me.

“yeah? you wanna cum sucking my boobs?” i teased matt, who vigorously nodded while adjusting himself one last time. he spread his legs open, waiting for my cue. “go ahead” i encouraged him and he immediately latched his lips around my nipple again, muffling his needy sounds as i jerked him off, my fingers pumping his swollen length rapidly enough for matt to cum seconds later.

matt’s whines turned to whimpers as he reached his high, releasing the sticky spurt over my hand. i couldn’t see it, but i knew the inside of his pants looked like a mess. he panted heavily as he slowly came back from his orgasm, thighs still trembling after holding it for so long.

i kissed the top of his head as i finally removed my palm from him, raising it near my mouth and licking his cum. “don’t do this to me” he said as he watched me, pulling my sweater down. “i’m gonna get hard again”

“good thing we have the whole movie left” i smirked before sealing our lips together in a passionate, hungry kiss. 

after all these years, we were still the same kids who started dating at the back row of the movie theater.

- ♡ -

taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @mommykinks4matt @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @bagsbyclair0 @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknot @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25

i haven’t updated this in a while so if if you want to get in/out let me know! mwah!

- ♡ -

[lustspren]

No Diggity ft Ahin.

length: 2.9k words✦

Male reader X Ahin. 

genres: quickie, public sex, blowjob, beach sex, hard sex✧ 

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"Come on!" Ahin said, pulling you by the hand to the side of the road, between some trees. "No one's coming, silly, trust me!"

Her voice sounded buzzier than normal, and her breath, which you constantly smelled due to her proximity, gave off a faint smell of alcohol. You weren't drunk, but during that evening you weren't lacking in drinks at all, which led to a pleasant dizzy state. It was impossible to blame you two; all the services available at that resort were already paid for, and the fact that there were bars everywhere didn't help much.

At first that wouldn't be a problem, but alcohol and Ahin had a dangerous relationship: just a couple of drinks was enough for that girl to get completely horny. She hid it pretty well, but throughout the afternoon she was constantly fooling around and teasing you with that stupidly hot meaty body, and you did hide it very poorly. The breaking point came when she saw that you were rock hard under your swim shorts after she purposely sat right on top of it while she danced.

And there you fucking were. On a path somewhat away from all the main areas, where you were closest to the sea but also to nature. You didn't know how you had ended up there, you had just let yourself be carried away by her in her desire for you to fuck her as soon as possible.

"Babe, the last time I trusted you with something like this we got kicked out of a damn casino," you replied, walking with her into the trees.

Ahin turned her back on you and focused on a tree to the right of her, which had bloomed beautiful vines of reddish flowers. She grabbed one of them and put it behind her ear, then turned to look at you with a small mischievous smile and put a hand on the back of your neck.

"I think maybe I moaned a little too loud that time," she said, lowering her voice. She then pulled you towards her to give you a small kiss that ended in a bite on your bottom lip. "But I promise to behave this time baby..."

You pulled her by the edge of her skirt and pressed her against your body. Then you moved your fingers to the top of her leg, and when you untied the knot on her skirt, it fell to the grass to give you a very pleasant surprise: she was wearing absolutely nothing under. How the hell had you not noticed it all day?

"Are you fucking serious?" you said, and immediately brought a hand between her thighs to slowly rub her perfectly shaved, smooth pussy. "Anyone could have seen underneath it."

Ahin brought her free hand to your cock to squeeze it over the fabric and kissed you again. The small moans coming out of her mouth were muffled against your lips.

"And I love that damn idea," she gasped, and desperately pulled your throbbing cock out of your shorts to rub it slowly. "In fact, I wish some stranger would come along to give him a good show."

"Shut up whore," you gasped against her lips, as you rubbed up and down between her gradually wetter folds. "I'm not gonna let anyone see you because this pussy, that pretty ass and these big tits belong to me."

"And this juicy cock belongs all to me as well?" she asked between kisses, squeezing her fingers tighter around it.

"I don't know..." you reached a hand behind her and grabbed her buttock. "Maybe if you give me a nice sloppy blowjob I can grant you that honor."

As soon as you said that, Ahin left your lips and fell to her knees on the ground, her face in front of your cock. She then grabbed the hem of your shorts and boxers and in one tug she pulled them down to your ankles.

"You make it too easy for me, baby," she said, licking her lips as she looked at your cock, which she had between her eyebrows, and then she grabbed the sides of your thighs and took you into her mouth. 

Ahin took more than half of your cock inside her on just the first pump. Her pretty lips latched onto your shaft firmly, and soon began to move along every inch of hard, veiny flesh. She picked up speed with each passing second, until the sucking sounds became loud and wet.

Her nails dug lightly into your skin, but then she moved one hand away from your thigh and formed a ring around the base of your cock with her thumb and index finger, moving it in time with her mouth. On top of that, she slurped and used her tongue to lick the underside of your shaft.

Between gasps and heavy breaths you bent down and to the side to reach her back, so that with a single tug on the knot that was there, you could make the top of her bikini—and also the last piece of clothing she had on—fall to her lap. Her perfect tits were now free, and you stayed bent over so you could grope them while she sucked you off.

After giving her a few long seconds to suck you, and yourself to grope her tits, you straightened your back again and dedicated yourself to watching how Ahin did everything possible to suck the soul out of your body. She was staring at you, with those big, shining eyes, and you could only admire how her tits moved with slight jiggles thanks to the intense pumps of her head. Her own saliva fell on her thighs, and some drops fell on her breasts.

You let out a grunt of pleasure, overwhelmed by how stupidly hot she was and clouded by your carnal urge to want to give her a fuck she would never forget. Ahin knew you well; you had been in a relationship for about four years now, and she could tell just by your look when it had been enough and you just wanted to rail her, so she stopped after a few seconds and stood up.

"Is it all mine now?" she asked, jerking you off so fast it almost took your breath away.

"Oh yeah," you managed between small grimaces, and pointed your chin towards the tree behind you. "Now lean against that log before I do it myself."

Ahin let go of your cock and she instantly turned around to go and lean against the thin birch tree, which you feared would fall if you pushed it too hard. She looked at you over her shoulder, her back arched slightly and her ass pushed back to tease you. You stood behind her, and without thinking twice you grabbed your cock with one hand, rubbed it between her folds and entered her, hard and carelessly.

"Mmmgh!" she moaned against her pursed lips, and before she could do it again you put your hand over her mouth.

"Behave and be quiet, damn it," you growled against her ear, beginning to pump back and forth. "I don't want to get kicked out of another damn place because of you."

Ahin's pussy felt especially warm and wet that day, the tropical weather, perhaps? It was funny to think about it that way, so it sounded more convincing in your head to think that the real reason was because the slut practically had her pussy exposed all afternoon, without knowing how many men or women had seen it because of a slip.

Whatever the reason, it was not the time to give importance to it. Her pussy felt amazing, and to be fucking her in that beautiful resort, with the sound of the waves crashing against the coast just meters to the right seemed like an experience that you should treasure very well in your memory.

Ahin seemed to be behaving as you fucked her harder and harder against the tree. She let out low moans, and you noticed how she held her breath so as not to make them louder. But you still didn't trust her, you had already made that same bad mistake in that casino months ago, so you kept your hand tightly pressed  against her mouth.

Your free hand was of course around her, making sure those beautiful tits weren't lacking in attention. You squeezed them hard, and made sure to gently pinch both nipples since you knew they were sensitive spots for her. It was a wise decision to keep your hand in her mouth, because every time you took a pinch she squealed with pleasure.

Soon the sound of your pelvis colliding against Ahin's buttocks began to mix with the sea sounds, as well as the screams that you unfortunately knew would soon become impossible to contain. Not just for her, but because it wouldn't be too long until you gave in to temptations and groped her everywhere while you fucked her.

You left her tits and placed her hand on her waist, to bury your face in her neck and fill it with kisses and bites. You were fucking her as hard as you could, as a release for the shameless and unbearable way she had been teasing you all day. It was a way to let her win, and you were sure she would bring it up in your face multiple times over the next few days, but you cared little.

Ahin bit the palm of your hand, eliciting a small grunt of pain from you, and muffled cries of pleasure against it in what you knew was the final stretch towards her first orgasm. You would help her speed up the process. You grabbed one of her thighs and lifted it, linking your arm behind her knee to keep it up. Seconds of fucking her that way and at that new angle were enough for her to cum.

But you wouldn't give her the privilege of a break. As she writhed against you and fucked herself against your cock, you pushed her away from the tree and somewhat roughly forced her to her knees with you. Then you started fucking her again, but now you removed your hand from her mouth so you could hold her arms behind her elbows and pull them back.

She was inches away from pressing her face into the ground and getting covered in soil, but you knew if that happened she would kill you, so you made her straighten her back so you could press her against your chest and wrap your arms around her body in a tight hug. From there, with your chin resting on her shoulder, you could watch her tits bounce again and again, a sight that immediately made it worth getting your knees dirty with soil.

Removing your hand from her mouth meant that she had the complete freedom to let the entire damn island know that she was being fucked mercilessly at that very moment, but to your surprise, she stayed as quiet as she could even though your cock hammered in and out of her dripping sensitive pussy.

"I thought so..." you gasped against her ear, then brought one of her hands to her neck. "You don't want to get kicked out of here too, huh?"

"I don't want to get kicked out of such a fucking expensive place," she corrected, clinging to the back of your neck with both hands as you peppered the side of her face with kisses. "You're safe… for today."

It was good to know, because it gave you free rein to go completely crazy with her without the fear of her giving you away. You pushed her forward again, and Ahin put her hands on the ground to keep her face away from it. She also spread her knees and raised her butt, a perfect position to grab her hair, squeeze one of her buttocks and fuck her in a deep frenzy.

For the next few seconds Ahin did the most admirable job of self-control you had ever seen from her. It was an exceptional case, of course, of all the times you had fucked her in public—which hadn't been a few—she had made sure to put on a good show for anyone within earshot. But this time she kept herself contained, like a cockatoo with its beak tied.

The acid test came with her second orgasm, which came less than a minute later.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god!" Ahin moaned, as softly as she could, while you pounded her pussy with impetuous thrusts.

She made to move her hand to her mouth to cover it, but quickly remembered that she had it in the ground and that it would be quite unhygienic, so with a sudden punch that sank into the soil, she came for the second time. 

"Fuuuuuuuck!!!" she growled between energetic spasms.

You released her hair and grabbed her shoulder to bring her back closer to your chest again. She brought her hands behind her and held on to your waist, while you circled her body and kneaded her tits.

"And I'm not done with you yet," you gasped, and pulled your cock out of her to stand up. "Come fucking here."

You forced Ahin to her feet, and then supported her sideways against the birch tree. She looked at you with teary eyes and her mouth half open, while you grabbed her leg and lifted it to put it on your shoulder. Then you went back inside her, to continue pounding her pussy.

This time you silenced her with a kiss, which seemed to relieve her more than your hand. She muffled moans against your lips, and she bit and licked them too. You noticed her trembling; her thigh, which was pressed against your abdomen, did nothing but contract and tense. She wasn't going to last much longer on her feet, so you had to hurry.

Luckily for the two of you, you weren't going to last much longer either. You already felt ready to explode any second, so you put it into a little extra gear and pounded her pussy as hard and fast as you could.

Ahin clung to your neck and pulled your hair there. She then broke the kiss and with her eyes still closed she rested the side of her head against the tree. Her mouth hung open, and her eyebrows arched. You brought one hand to one of her bouncing tits to squeeze it, your jaw tensed, while the other held onto her thigh.

"You better cum soon because I swear to god I'm gonna fucking scream!" she said between gasps, letting her head fall back.

"If only you hadn't brought just the skirt I would cum inside you…" you growled.

"And what does that have to do with this?" she screeched.

"You can't walk around with a flood of cum running down your thighs, Lee Ahin..."

"But it would be quite a show huh?" she managed a mischievous smile and a giggle, and bit her lower lip.

"There's no fucking way," you squeezed her thigh. "On your knees, now!" you were quick to say when you felt the tingle.

You left her pussy and Ahin instinctively fell to the ground on her knees. She immediately grabbed your cock and rose up on her knees to rub your tip against one of her tits. Then she stroked you furiously, and with her gaze fixed on your eyes, she brought you to your peak of pleasure.

Between moans and labored breaths you began to shoot jets of her hot cum against her perfect tits, which soon became covered in the sticky liquid. Ahin continued to move her hand at an unbearable speed, making you writhe between moans of pain. It wasn't until you unloaded all of it onto her breasts that she suddenly let go of your cock.

"Luckily I did bring my bikini top," she said with a wicked smile, and then she started licking your cock all over in a meticulous cleaning process.

You still couldn't formulate a word, first you concentrated on catching your own breath and letting the vestiges of your orgasm pass. When you felt your thoughts reorganized and your brain returned to normal, you helped Ahin stand up and get her clothes.

"Are you going to walk around with that goop on your tits?" you asked as you put on your boxers and shorts, watching as she put on her bikini top.

"Just until we get to our room," she said, struggling to tie the knot on her back.

"To our room?" you went to help her. "Are you tired already?"

She immediately shook her head and took a small step back to press her bare ass against your bulge.

"Quite the opposite. I want you to fuck me for the rest of the night," she said, and she turned her head to steal a kiss from you.

You chuckled, finishing tying the knot.

"Even if you can't walk tomorrow?"

"In that case we'll have to schedule another day," she shrugged and picked up her skirt from the floor to put it on. "Come on. I want you to fill every fucking hole in me."

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As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!

[princessbrunette]

𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃a continuation from the rafe and puppy universe…(click me) ࣪

rafe doesn’t always treat puppy!reader so nicely. infact, sometimes she really tests his patience.

he drags you through the front door to tannyhill with a hand wrapped around your arm — thick gold rings wound round his fingers undoubtedly leaving bruises in their wake as he yanks you inside. you can’t keep up with his long strides, tripping over and having the eldest cameron repeatedly carry the entirety of your weight with his hand everytime you stumbled— wrenching you back to your feet.

whilst this occurs, he lectures you through grit teeth — at the end of his tether. “what’d i tell you huh? what’d i fuckin’ tell you ‘bout manners?” he asks and you’re not sure if it’s rhetorical, letting him march you up the stairs to his bedroom.

“its no big deal—” you hiccup through pained whines as you try to pull away from his stern grip, only making him tighten it.

“nah, nah — you knew exactly what you were doing at the country club. running that mouth when i — i specifically told you to behave today.”

there had been a very high class event, ward forcing rafe to take you along to get you accustomed to the kook-lifestyle after so long of slumming it at the other side of the island. you were ditsy, but not dumb — you saw the way the camerons looked at you, with pity — like you simply weren’t made for this world. thats why you got so attached to rafe, he didn’t pity you. it was tough love, so you assumed — the boy constantly lecturing and berating you but would be the first to save you from any potentially damaging or dangerous situations, and god forbid anyone spoke to you as poorly as he did.

the afternoon was unsavable from the start. you may have been responsible for the large chocolate fountain at the food table falling, you’d accidentally insulted the president of the country club to his face, you’d mistakenly smeared food on the back of rafe’s shirt, and when rafe was rightfully lecturing you for that — you bit him. you bit him infront of one of the important businessmen he had been trying to impress. you understood his anger for once, you’d messed up.

he tosses you onto his bed making you stumble onto it, turning around to watch the way the boy angrily rifles through his dresser drawers, furiously continue to ramble at you. “you know i’ve been saving this, yeah — saving this from when you really messed up. ‘cos i knew you would. you’re a pogue, and you’ll always be one. and — and i’ve been here, tryna look after the runt of the litter — and yet you still disrespect me.” he shakes his head and you watch forlornly, watching him find what he was looking for and begin to pull it out.

“well you wanna run that mouth? wanna— wanna bite me in public? i’m gonna have t’treat you like the dirty pogue puppy you are— okay? didnt wanna have to do this kid but you leave me no choice. s’gotta be me to discipline you, alright? c’mere.” in his hand, you instantly recognise to be some form of muzzle. like the type you’d see on a dog, but this time perfectly crafted to fit a female face. you’d had no idea where he’d got such a cruel item, he had to have had it custom made just to shut you up, a sick fantasy he’d been sitting on. you cower, and he’s unphased.

he undoes the buckles on the side so that he can put it on you, but not before yanking your hands to his belt and leaving them there. “undo this. you’re gonna wear this, n’then you’re gonna let me take what i want from you. a’ight? i’m in charge. you’re gonna learn your damn lesson whether you like it or not.”

you whine as you obey him, trembling fingers fumbling for his belt. the worst part about this, was that you couldn’t deny your arousal. the manhandling, the degrading — you were a sensitive girl, who had sensitive needs, but something about the boy you had such a crush on, the same boy who would deny reluctantly cuddling you to sleep when you had a bad dream that one time, treating you so mean was making your cunt ache with need.

“i’m not gonna bite, i just want to kiss again.” you wail weakly as he brings the muzzle to your face, scoffing out a chuckle that read directly as ‘fat fucking chance’. rafe had kissed you a few times. moments of weakness. he couldn’t deny his feelings for you but — well, actually yes he could. he did deny his feelings for you, and often too. he was head over heels and he didn’t like that.

“kiss? you— you think you deserve a kiss after the way you behaved today?” once the muzzle is fastened and you’re staring up at him with big watery puppy dog eyes, he finishes up with yanking off his belt and undoing his zipper, trying to ignore how your pitiful expression looked. rafe was mean but he wasn’t an idiot— he knows you didn’t mean to be the way you were. you were innocent, naive — but god if taking advantage of that didn’t get him off.

his heart twinges at the sorry look on your face so he flips you over onto your front on the bed, body sprawled out and bouncing from the force. “nah…” he answers his own question as he tugs your dress up your back to reveal your soaked through panties between trembling thighs. he thumbs at the wet patch above where your hole sits meanly, scoffing. “you’re gonna shut up and take this dick. maybe then you’ll get your damn kiss.”

[esthercore]

I am so on board with Yan Sunday physically punishing/disciplining his spouse.

In public spaces he’ll squeeze your arm so tight that it aches from the lack of blood circulation. Or he’ll dig his nails into your thigh under the table to shut you up. But that’s only if he’s really really mad. Otherwise he’ll just give you a look (to others it just looks like his neutral, polite smile— but you know better).

He has a horse crop that he regularly uses. Paddles, canes, small whips, etc. He doesn’t use his hands to hit but he does use them to grab you and yank you around. A tight hand in your hair— pulling so hard that your scalp burns. Or to grab you by the jaw to make you face him. Or to shove your head into a wall and press your face against it until it’s sore (though he prefers not to leave any marks on your face).

It’s all to set you straight. Stop resisting him, stop talking to other men, stop trying to run off, stop behaving so poorly in public— you’re his partner and you represent him now, as well as The Family. If you just listened— just gave in and accepted his teachings and his affections— then he wouldn’t have to punish you like this.

And for poor reader it’s torture. It’s like you’re walking on eggshells every second of the day, bending over backwards to please him, even when he isn’t around his servants are perched somewhere out of sight and watching you. You become terrified of stepping out of line, even the smallest mistake leaves you shaking like a leaf at the thought of punishment. It really fucks you up. It almost feels like you regress mentally, you freeze up and tears immediately prick at your eyes, you begin to tremble and your lips quiver but no sounds come out. If you do this freeze response in public, Sunday apologizes to the people and excuses the both of you (writes it off as a panic attack or a sudden flare up of illness, and that he must attend to you. His guests are moved by his devotion); and your heart sinks because you know what’ll happen once you’re both alone and you want to run but there are people watching and it’ll only make Sunday more upset. The closer you get to your room the more violent your trembling becomes. You might stumble as a result but Sunday is already two steps ahead of you and he wrings his hand around your arm and drags you along.

You can babble out apologies and beg for forgiveness but it doesn’t matter— he’s already shoving you into the room and locking the door—

It’s excruciatingly painful, and he deals out punishment with unrelenting resolve. He’ll have you bend over the bed while he deals out the blows. If you try to block them with your hands he’ll tie them up— and if you continue to resist he’ll completely restrain you. It’s hard and fast and he makes you count. It’s humiliating and painful— like a white hot iron lashing against your skin. He doesn’t mind the sobbing but when you start screaming he winds his hand into your hair and shoves your face into the the bed to muffle it. On really really bad days (usually after an escape attempt) he’ll whip you until your skin splits under the cane.

Then afterwards he’ll kick your feet apart and screw you— the writhing of your body and your sobs from earlier really got him worked up. And as it’s still punishment he doesn’t really try to make it good for you. It feels like a nail being hammered into you, sharp— but the pain is still duller than the whipping. Nonetheless your body still reacts, and it jerks away from his erratic thrusts but he yanks at your hair and pulls you back onto him. You try to just let it happen but it hurts— and your body seizes up from the painful intrusion.

Sunday will be in your ear throughout all of this— telling you how you deserve it, how he loves you, how you broke his heart when he came home and you were gone, how he’ll make you into something better, how good you feel, how he doesn’t want you to leave— he won’t allow it. He tells you that he’ll forgive you for this slight, that is if you accept what it takes to earn it.

Once everything’s over, you’re completely shattered. Everything’s blurry and your ears are ringing and you can barely making out the fuzzy colors in your vision— or anything in your surroundings for that matter. Sunday pets your head (hair matted and tangled from sweat and his constant pulling), his hands are gentle and loving. It takes you a while to finally come back, but Sunday is patient. He coos at you, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head and your damp cheeks, tells you that you did such a wonderful job enduring everything, and that he hopes you’ll be better after this so he doesn’t have to do it again. Tells you that he loves you.

He welcomes you when you finally sob into his lap and blubber our apologies and promises that you’ll never leave again. You’re so tired, it hurts to move, it feels like you’ve been gutted of everything you have. Sunday embraces you, and he is so incredibly tender with you afterwards. The affection and softness is addicting, and you can’t help but allow yourself to fall into it after all the pain.

OMG ANON!!! you're speaking my language and your writing is so so divine!!

But, one, Sunday definitely got the mom glare, that makes you squirm, and he will give you that Pavlovian dog treatment, training you, breaking you. You're his little side project he take pleasure in cultivating.

After all, he's merely your shepherd, training his naughty sheep.

[saintsenara]

Do you think Sirius’s parents were ever physically abusive? I see a lot of different takes in the fandom, and sometimes it reads well, and sometimes it feels like tragedy-piling. In one hand, if they were not physically abusive, it makes Sirius’s break-off somewhat even more impressive - he had everything, but still couldn’t stomach his parent’s political views and life of pretences. In another hand, maybe his parents would do anything to keep their wayward son in line. Whaddya think?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

unsurprisingly, i've popped the answer to this below the cut, since it comes with a trigger warning for discussion of the emotional and physical abuse of a child.

to start with, the answer to this requires us to be specific about what we understand the term "physically abusive" to mean.

because - yes - i certainly think orion and walburga would have smacked [spanked, for american readers] sirius as a form of punishment.

indeed, i think this inarguable, since sirius was born in 1959.

in britain and ireland, as in many places worldwide, the social acceptability of physically punishing your children by smacking them is something which has shifted massively in the past twenty-or-so years.

[and with good reason! i'm definitely not about to start defending it!]

but the extent of this shift means it's easy to overlook just how normal it used to be. until really quite recently, smacking was considered a "good" way to instil discipline in children, poorly behaved children were considered to be suffering from a lack of physical discipline, and a parent smacking a child in public was unlikely to raise any eyebrows.

indeed, canon - the original editions of the books, at least - reflect the fact that this was a social norm in the nineties. the weasley children - for example - are noted to have been smacked on multiple occasions, and the text isn't treating this as evidence that molly and arthur are cruel or abusive, it's treating it as evidence that they're normal parents.

and so if - as is increasingly the modern norm - one regards any sort of physical discipline as abuse, then yes, i think orion and walburga were physically abusive towards sirius.

but the real question is do i think orion and walburga were abusive by the standards of their own time?

because - of course - smacking being socially acceptable historically doesn't mean that all uses of physical force against a child were. indeed, the reason that smacking is still legal in england and northern ireland [wales, scotland, and the republic of ireland have all got their acts together and banned it] is based in this - smacking was and is considered "reasonable chastisement". that is, it was and is considered to fall below a threshold which would transform it from punishment into abuse.

this threshold is based in intensity - smacking your children is legal if they're not left with marks, a smack which leaves bruises or which breaks the skin meets the threshold for common assault, and is a legal offence - in frequency - sustained or repeated force is more likely to leave injuries which meet the threshold for assault or other offences - in type - punching a child in the face is always assault, if not a greater charge such as actual bodily harm - and in the context of the act and the parent's broader behaviour surrounding it - a parent who smacks a child once as a knee-jerk response to a dangerous situation [the child trying to dash out into oncoming traffic, for example] and then collects themselves and speaks calmly to the child is going to be understood very differently from a parent who smacks a child for an unclear reason, who is ranting and raving, and who exclusively shouts at the child.

the problem with this threshold - which makes some physical punishments acceptable and others unacceptable - is that it's imprecise. children's experiences of being smacked are subjective - some might tolerate the occasional smacking with no adverse mental effects, but this is irrelevant, given that many others will not. outlawing it entirely is good because it removes this imprecision.

when it comes to sirius, then, we have to think about whether orion and walburga would have used physical force against him in a way that crossed whatever threshold existed in the norms of wizarding society between legitimate and unacceptable punishment.

and i think the answer to this is both yes and no.

because i think it's inarguable that sirius was subjected to physical punishments in contexts which were inappropriate.

his dynamic with his family, as he himself tells us, is a classic golden child versus scapegoat one. and so his parents undoubtedly smacked him in response to things he didn't do intentionally - for example, accidentally knocking over a glass and breaking it - or didn't do at all - for example, regulus breaking the glass and claiming it happened because sirius "distracted" him.

if we imagine that wizarding norms - like muggle ones - justify physical punishment when it's "reasonable", then it follows that this idea of reasonableness presupposes that the child is being punished for an intentional and undeniable act of forbidden behaviour. and, therefore, it follows that punishing a child who has not behaved in such a way is unreasonable, and therefore abusive.

connected to this, it's also plausible that sirius was subjected to non-physical punishments - such as being grounded or having his possessions confiscated - in similarly inappropriate contexts. and this again changes the meaning of these punishments - temporarily grounding a child in response to them intentionally doing a specific thing which they know will result in them being grounded is acceptable; grounding them indefinitely and arbitrarily is not.

it's also inarguable that sirius was subjected to non-physical punishments which were excessive within the context of wizarding norms. the way walburga's portrait speaks to him - which he tells us in order of the phoenix reflects the way she spoke to him when she was alive - is something harry finds utterly shocking. and - since we know that harry isn't shocked by shouting alone [molly shouts at her sons, for example, and harry doesn't consider this unacceptable] we can suppose that walburga's language, tone, and level of vitriol is so extreme as to have crossed the threshold between reasonable and unreasonable behaviour, and is, therefore, abusive. while we don't know how orion spoke to him, we have no reason to believe it wasn't similar.

but i don't think that sirius was subjected to physical punishments which were excessive in terms of their violence - rather than inappropriate in terms of their context.

and this is because he's clear that what he hated the most about living with his family was that they didn't deviate from social norms. he hated the mainstream political views they held, he hated that they considered themselves "practically royal" despite not being impressive or special at all, and he hated that regulus became the golden child for adhering to convention and he became the scapegoat for rejecting it.

if he understood himself as someone who had been physically abused, the thing he would hate about his family would be their deviance. he would abhor the fact that they'd transgressed the social norms which governed what was or wasn't "reasonable" in terms of physical punishment and - in doing so - had transgressed the relationship parents are supposed to have with their children.

and i think he would be able to acknowledge this - it's not just something he doesn't bring up in canon because he's not psychologically ready - not only because he has the experience of how james' parents treated both him and their own son to contrast against his parents' behaviour, but because he's able to recognise - without feeling ashamed of or like he was at fault for it, which is very impressive - that he is someone who was emotionally abused.

and this emotional abuse is bad enough.

there is - as you say - something which can get a bit torture-porny about the way sirius' early life is often written as a cycle of unrelenting physical abuse. and the reason this feels so unnecessary is because the experience he describes on the canon page is sufficiently horrible without anything else being added to it. i don't think we need to debate whether him breaking with his family is more impressive if they weren't physically abusive than it would be if they were - or vice versa. there's no hierarchy. abuse is abuse.

it wouldn't matter if orion and walburga had never laid a hand on him. given what we know of their emotional treatment of him, sirius is an abused child. and leaving an abusive situation - regardless of the exact form the abuse takes - is impressive without qualification.

[historian-in-pearls]

This couple cornered me at work to ask what my “real job” is. I smiled and told them I’m here at the museum all the time. They then began interrogating me about my education, and the husband said, "Oh, those are expensive schools these days. You must have been a scholarship student." 😑 What was the point of that?

[thedreadvampy]

update they messaged me to say they felt I had been very hostile to them the last 2 times they saw me (almost fair - I was very hostile to them 2/3 of the last 3 times I saw them) and "can we address this?"

so I said "no, not really" and they said "well do you know why" and I said "yes, but I don't think I can productively have that conversation with you so I'm not going to." and they haven't messaged since.

suuuucccessss????

there is a person in my life who I Do Not Like Being Around. they trigger all sorts of shit for me that makes me extremely irritable, defensive, tense, reactive, snappy, etc. I think it would be fair to say I hate them in that I see or hear about them and I'm already mentally squaring up.

(and that is an unusual experience for me. I am a dyed-in-the-wool hater of THINGS but I find it fairly difficult to maintain a lot of distaste and anger towards PEOPLE)

but the problem is.

a) I am conscious that I am not behaving rationally. I do not like the person I am around them.

and

b) I canNOT fucking get away from them. they are in basically all my social spaces, and every time I get involved in organising they're there trying to Be In Charge In A Non-Hierarchical Way. They're my best friends' best friend. They're my ex's partner. And even when I'm not anywhere near them people end up talking to me about how irritating they are. they are haunting me.

[electraslight]

heyo, its been a long time since i did an analysis!! this time on a more controversial subject: Rook Blonko. And how I think he was robbed.

When you actually look at the way Rook is written in omniverse, they dont give him very much to work with. like revvonaganders and their culture are cool, but rook feels so underdeveloped as a person outside of his culture. hes kind of a gwen in a way; hes got bare minimum flaws but he's treated like hes in the right when hes doing something actually flawed. hes never condemned for treating ben the way he does and he doesnt even have a consistent arc. he doesnt feel like a teenager, he doesnt feel like he has any sort of character progression, hes just kinda there, and his lack of depth in character-to-character situations is only amplified by the lack of holding him accountable for negative traits he possesses, instead punishing ben or ignoring the behavior. Instead of writing a scenario where Rook is in the right and ben is in the wrong, or showing rook behaving poorly and have him learn from his actions, i can hardly think of a time where rook was shown to be wrong for his treatment of ben.

For example in a scenario where Ben is keeping personal information from Ben, and rook wants to know it for the sake of their partnership, instead of portraying Ben in the wrong properly by showing his keeping of said information being harmful to the public or his friendship to rook, or have the information be personally important to rook making Ben's keeping of it harmful, instead rook has scoured Ben's file for all information and is asking about something that is of no matter to him entirely because he doesn't know it. He pesters Ben incessantly even when Ben has told him firmly no. Tjis is a recurring issue, where it seems like the story wants rook to be right but is ignoring context and the way he goes about it.

This would be an aggravating issue but ignorable if rook had anything resembling a consistent arc, but he doesn't. the conflict of rook idolizing ben and meeting him and realizing hes not what rook thought he was is interesting, but its always treated as if bens in the wrong for not living up to rooks expectations. rook overstepping his boundaries with ben due to being a huge fan and maybe cultural differences is interesting, but its never portrayed as a flaw on rooks end, more like bens fault for keeping the information. his struggle with his culture and staying connected with it, his conflict with his father about his career path, his relationships to his siblings, him slowly watching revvonah be plundered for its resources as the series goes on, i love that, thats genuinely interesting. but they never talk about it outside of those episodes. rook is in the wrong often and it brings up a lot of interesting questions about him as a person, but they dont talk about that in favor of treating him as bens babysitter, or setting up a joke where ben is the punchline.

It's disappointing to me that rook was never given the attention he deserved. Like i said, there's a lot of good stuff in his framework that's just begging to be explored, but his lack of an arc makes him feel so one note after a while and really dampens his relationship with ben. Since rook is not a character on the same level as ben, he feels less like an equal like they tried to illustrate and more of a plot device. They even threw away the most interesting conflict between ben and rook; rook being book smart and ben being street smart, experience over training. Ben and Rook hardly ever have issues based on this other than rook misunderstanding a joke. This is why rook and ben feel like such a flat relationship to me.

all of this to say: rook fans. Please, for the love of god, work your magic. He's got all the pieces there, and i am certain you can do something special in fanworks about him. Don't let the show being lackluster hold you down.

[rmytears]

It's incredible how poorly some people who call themselves "fans" behave, crossing the line and commenting on the personal lives of the players. I'm referring to both football players and those in the wnba.

Since last year, we've seen horrible comments directed at Ona and Laura. It all started when the relationship between Lucy and Keira ended after several rumors, and now that they have started new relationships, people can't stop talking.

People can't stand seeing Leah close to another human being who identifies as a woman without immediately starting to "pair them up." An adult woman nearly 30 years old has every right to want to be in a relationship. And if she decides to keep it private, guess what? SHE ALSO HAS THAT RIGHT!

And let's not even talk about some people's outrage simply because Caitlin Clark has a boyfriend. Are you really that disconnected from reality? I understand that you may not like Connor or that you're not fond of Caitlin's social circle (like Jada), but that doesn't give you the right to say that Caitlin looks too “fruity” to have a boyfriend. It's disrespectful and disgusting. Using those kinds of comments only empowers the stereotypes that have harmed us for so long. It's absurd. Regardless of your opinion about him, you don't have the right to leave hateful comments on a photo she chose to share with HER BOYFRIEND on HER INSTAGRAM.

These players, beyond being public figures, are people entitled to their integrity and privacy. You are not their best friend, so stop demanding explanations that are not your concern (and yes, I’m referring to the topic of Katie and the infidelity rumors about Caitlin). Shut your damn mouth and take care of your own life.

[theaccidentfactory]

This might be a little controversial but it must be said. If you bring your pet dog into a public place that dogs are not allowed, knowing that your dog is not a service dog or a service dog in training, and you pretend they ARE a service dog/SD in training, you are a problem and a hazard. A million things can go wrong if you bring a dog that is not a specifically trained service dog into a business. Most states prohibit non service animals in food facilities and the business can get in trouble. People have severe allergies to animals and shouldn't be exposed unnecessarily to these allergens. Non trained dogs can bite children or other people if they get freaked out (ANY dog can bite. I don't care if your dog is a golden retriever puppy who doesn't know it has teeth. ANY dog can bite in the right circumstances. Service dogs are specifically screened before training starts to ensure there's the lowest bite risk possible). Your pet dog can attack or bite an ACTUAL service dog and scare the service dog so badly, they are no longer able to perform tasks in public, leaving the handler without a service dog. Non service animals often use the bathroom in public places and employees have to clean it up (I don't care if your dog is potty trained, if a dog is scared, it will most likely pee on the floor). If your pet dog did not do public access and desensitization training as a puppy and interact with a variety of people and sounds and smells from an early age as soon as possible, they will most likely be freaked out or scared if you decide to take them to a restaurant or grocery store, so you are scaring your poor dog for no reason!! (and scared dogs' typical instinctual reaction is to bite!!!) If you bring your pet dog into a business and they behave poorly because they're scared or overstimulated or just untrained, it will give the employees a misinformed view of ACTUAL service dogs, which makes things harder for actual service dog teams!! There is genuinely not a single reason to bring your pet dog into places of business where non service dogs aren't allowed. Not a single exception. Just leave them home when you go to the grocery store or wherever!!!

[amalg-em]

Tbh I'd like to (politely) push back on the whole "people compare things to their personal experiences" bit. Maybe it's the ND in me, but I research shit for fun and also being an outlier has taught me that my experiences aren't universal. And while other people generally don't know as many facts about as many topics as I do, everyone has their areas of interest & are going to have more facts in that area beyond their personal experience. Meaning: if they've ever researched anything ever at all, they know how much information is out there, and should be able to extrapolate that they have a relatively tiny sliver of it. I. E., their personal experiences aren't divine, universal truth.

Even so, I think the fact that you can go on this website and have people straight up tell you "Hey no apples are not supposed to be spicy sweetie. That's an allergy or at minimum oral allergy syndrome, you should get tested" is evidence that people are capable of taking others' problems seriously. Without needing to be an information sponge like me. Like, that is equally as human a trait as being dismissive of anyone and anything Not Like Them.

Further, it takes very little effort to just... Listen to people, take what they're telling you in good faith, and try to understand where they're coming from. I've had multiple people who never even told me they were struggling with something - I just noticed they seemed Bad At It and I've learned that often Bad At It is actually Disabled and Struggling. And when I asked, it turned out they just thought it was normal to suck and have life suck. It took me pulling up medical articles for them to have the light bulb moment and think about seeking treatment for something they'd struggled with their whole life but never knew they had.

I'm not saying being everyone's medical investigator should be the default - but listen. I am a mess of a human being that only manages to keep it together by weaponizing my anxiety against my problems. If I can do the work to help OTHER people take themselves and their problems seriously, maybe the dismissive blankety-blanks you've dealt with have it in them to simply... Shut the fuck up when they're thinking of saying something deeply lacking in basic human compassion.

Like seriously. This does not need to be normal. You do not need to endure it. Not from strangers and certainly not from close friends or family members. You don't do yourself or the world any favors by teaching them that humans can be used as emotional punching bags. You deserve better because everyone deserves better.

More medical under the cut, I am using humor as a coping mechanism and I'm not terribly funny.

I'm having trouble getting over the size of it. Like I'd never had an ultrasound before so I wasn't sure what I was looking at. So when she did the exterior reading I thought maybe the big black hole I was looking at was my uterus and maybe it was just at a weird angle.

So when she pointed to the little white smudge at the bottom and said 'that's what we can see of your uterus' and measured out the 9cm of the big black hole and said 'that's the fibroid' I was like...

...I've picked up baseballs at the park of that size.

That's a newborn's head.

That's a christmas ornament.

That's a goose egg.

That's one of those little bottles of soy sauce they have at fancy chinese restaurants.

I have picked mushrooms smaller than that.

There's a wad of toilet paper stuck to the ceiling of my high school bathroom that size.

An orange. Like a navel orange, not those little clementines.

Trial size coffee samples.

I can go to a Michael's, rummage through the wooden balls they have there and find an appropriately sized one for somewhere between 6.99 and 10.99 and then use a 30% off coupon on it because those things never go on sale so it would be eligible for the single item discount.

Someone said it takes these things 4-5 years to get to 2cm.

... so times 4.

....so 20ish years.

...so I would have been 17.

I complained about heavy, painful periods as early as 13 and people told me that it was normal, that my body would grow into it.

"No guys, seriously. It hurts a lot and I don't think I'm supposed to bleed this much."

I'd get used to it. My hormones would even out. I was being dramatic. This was a beautiful time in my life.

Wow. 9 whole centimeters. I have a camera lens that size. Balls of yarn. Cosmetic sponges. That geode I found at my grandmama's house. Shot put balls. The roots on one of my monstera plants is forming a ball about that size.

That's kind of what it feels like, actually. It feels like digging roots into me and filling up the space.

I'm thinking about all the pairs of pants that I've ruined in 20 years. This is why I don't wear khakis.

[starogeorgina]

Twin flames

Warning: Age gap relationship, smut, swearing

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen × Reader

1.04

“Bastards or not, Rhaenyra’s sons are still just children; you can’t possibly think they deserve such slander!”

Aemond gives you a death glare. The queen, in all her wisdom, had tricked you into spending time with Aemond by inviting you to join her for supper in her chambers; she even had your favourite cake specifically made for the occasion. Under the impression that Helaena would be joining you as well, you said yes. But it was a fib; Helaena was nowhere to be found, and you were now left feeling awkward sitting across from your mother and brother. As expected, your mother shared her disdain for your uncle's plans of staying in King's Landing being made public, but the conversation quickly turned to her talking poorly of Rhaenyra, and Aemond jumped at the chance to slander Prince Lucerys.

“Enough!” Your mother looks between you and Aemond, shaking her head. “This pointless arguing ends here. It’s time you started to behave like husband and wife.”

Knowing where this conversation would lead next, you wanted nothing more than to tell your mother to shove the idea of your producing heirs with Aemond, but you bite your tongue instead. There was once a time you would have done your duty and relished having a baby of your own, but now the thought of laying with Aemond physically makes your skin crawl. Dark circles hung under your mother's eyes, and the skin around her fingernails was red and raw. She has been stressed again, which was the only reason you chose a different approach than arguing.

You sigh, “I’m not having this conversation again.”

You stand to leave, but she grips the sleeve of your pale blue dress, giving you a pleading look, and says, “I believe Aemond has something he’d like to say.”

You look to your husband, waiting for him to either spew venom or put on a fake display of kindness to make it appear like he cares for the sake of your mother. But when he says nothing, you turn and leave.

—

“Be gentle, Tyvaros,” you say, motioning for Lady Rhaena to come closer. You take her hand and place it on the side of your head. Tyvaros made a loud grunting noise before leaning into her touch.

Despite his frightful appearance, Tyvaros reminded you of a kitten during the times you were alone; he purred while nuzzling his nose into your embrace. You couldn’t imagine not having your black beauty in your life; you were convinced one half of your soul completely belongs to him. Which is why you felt for Rhaena so much; it must have been awful not having that connection.

“I’m surprised my father allowed me to get this close; how did you convince him?”

“I think he said yes just so I’d stop asking him.”

You both chuckled. You kissed Tyvaros before stepping back to let him fly off to go hunt. The strong winds from the flaps of his large wings cause dirt to swirl in the air. You cover your face with your hands to stop anything from going in your eyes. When Daemon finally caved and said he would allow you to introduce his daughter to your dragon but not ride him just yet, When Tyvaros started to look small in the distance, you began to start walking back towards the keep.

You smile as your fingers brush over the necklace sitting on your collarbone. Since his daughters came to King's Landing, Daemon has been a lot happier, although his relationship with your father still seems strained.

“Are you coming to Dragonstone with us?” Rhaena asks. “Because if you are, I think I should fly on dragon back with you.”

“I don’t think your father will agree,” you snorted. “And I am unsure if I’ll be able to accompany you on your trip. I’m traveling to old town to see my brother, Daeron.”

She pouts, “Baela really wants you to come with us as well, and I know it would mean a lot to my father. He’s really taken with you; he values your friendship.”

You smile at her. Both of Daemon’s daughters were smart, kind, and beautiful, much like their mother was. You only vaguely remember meeting Lady Laena once when you were much younger, visiting her brother at court. She was very beautiful, from what you recall, and not only held strong feelings towards your uncle but Rhaenyra as well.

Over the past few months, Daemon has shown you more and more affection. He gave you pearls, silks, and books as gifts, along with a jade tiara that once belonged to the empress of Leng. He read poems to you in High Valyrian and dined with you often, either alone or accompanied by his daughters. You’d race each other on dragon back, sneak out of the keep at night, and under disguise go and see a play or drink in a tavern, happy to spend time together without being watched over. Your feelings for your uncle had become more romantic, but you tried your best not to let on.

Rhaena steps in front of you and says, “Please.”

“Well, I suppose I’d be rather lost without my two favorite ladies keeping me company. I shall see what I can do.”

Happy that she’s convinced you, Rhaena beams at you before skipping ahead. Traveling to Dragonstone with them was tempting; you’d never been before and wished to get to know your eldest sibling, Rhaenyra, but knowing the reaction you’d receive from your mother, brother, and grandsire was enough to cause you pause.

—

Your finger glides along the dusty bookcase in the library that is hardly ever used. When you reach the small table next to the only window in the room, you sit down and begin to read. Moments later, you’re joined by your uncle. “I heard my daughters finally wore you down and that you’re coming with us to Dragonstone.”

For the last two days, Baela and Rhaena had persistently begged for you to join them; both young girls were excited to visit their cousins and desperately wanted you to go as well. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I will be able to travel with you.”

“Why not?”

“I believe I'm going to travel to old town to visit my brother and some lords on the queen's behalf.”

Daemon snaps the book in his hand shut and says, “Fuck the lords.”

You chewed on your bottom lip while lowering your head to look at the book open on the table, but you’d lost your place, and trying to find it again was difficult with your uncle's gaze burning into you. Gulping it down, you pretend not to notice how intensely he’s staring. You didn’t want to admit the real reason you were hesitant to go.

“Ñuha zaldrītsos, what is it?”

Shaking your head, you say, “I cannot say; you’ll think it’s pathetic.”

Across the table, he chuckles and says, “I doubt that.”

You place a fabric bookmark in between the pages so you don't lose your place and close the book in front of you, knowing you aren’t going to finish it any time soon. “The last time I saw my nephews was when Aemond lost his eye and my mother did what she did.”

Daemon's eyes softened. “And?”

“What if Rhaenyra doesn’t accept me? I know how cruel my side of the family, ‘the greens’,have treated her and her sons.”

“You're scared she will reject you?”

You nod.

Daemon rubs circles on the back of your thumb. “Why does it matter to you what she thinks?”

“Because she’s my sister, and my father loves her so much. I know it would mean the world to him if Rhaenyra had someone on her side; he worries that she’s lonely.”

He sighs, “I promise you Rhaenyra won’t turn you away; she craves a family unit.”

“You can’t possibly promise that.”

“You’re nothing like your mother. Rhaenyra would accept you and your siblings into her life, aside from that insufferable one-eyed cunt.”

“Wow,” you say, raising your brows. “That’s the first time you’ve not called both Aemond and Aegon cunts, only Aemond.”

“Hmm. We are leaving in the morrow; I’d like your decision by night so I can let my daughters know beforehand.”

“Lady Rhaena insists she’s riding on Tyvaros with me to Dragonstone.”

“Absolutely not.”

Hearing the sudden sharp tone in his voice caused you to smile. You loved seeing Daemon so protective of his twins. Thinking of his sweet girls, you finally make a decision. You stand to leave it before you go. You lean down and kiss Daemon on the cheek. “Thank you, Kepus; I will see you tonight.”

—

A knot twists in your stomach as you approach your brother's chambers. The walk seemed longer than usual as your mind raced with all the different ways Aemond might react to you travelling to Dragonstone with your uncle, but during this time of day he often had tea with your mother most days so he wouldn’t be alone while receiving the news.

Ser Criston’s eyes widen slightly when he notices you, “princess.”

“Ser Criston, I hope you are well this evening.”

He opens his mouth to say something but quickly closes it. Pressing his lips together tightly, he looks hesitant as he opens the door.

“Thank you,” you say, walking by him. It was unusual for the knight to not engage with you, and you also found it strange that he hung his head low.

Your eyes scan the room, and you freeze when you finally spot Aemond, your husband, fucking one of his whores. She was bent over on his bed as he thrust into her from behind.

Like a dog taking a bitch.

You slowly back away before turning and running out of the room. Strangely enough, you didn’t feel hurt or upset at seeing your husband fucking another woman; however, you did feel like a fool. A fool who had been holding back on her own feelings and desires to try and maintain some level of respect and dignity in her marriage, but no more.

From now on, you’ll be chasing your own desires.

—

You smile politely at the knight, who opens the door leading into your uncle's quarters. Walking further into it, you frown, noticing he is nowhere to be seen.

“Zaldrītsos, I didn’t think you’d come.”

Daemon smirks, walking closer to you from the balcony, dressed in only his briefs. You swallowed hard; he truly was gorgeous. “You’ve cut your hair.”

“I have. Did you come to a decision?”

You don’t answer him; instead, you grab his face, pulling him close enough to press your lips against his. Daemon seems taken aback by your actions but quickly kisses you back. He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you from the ground slightly. You attempt to wrap your legs around his waist, but your dress restricts your movements. Grinning into the kiss, Daemon lifts you even higher, his hands grabbing your bum while he walks you backwards until your back hits the wall.

“I’m guessing that you’re coming?” He asks between kisses pressed to your neck.

“Yes, I’ll go with you.”

Daemon kisses along your jawline before sliding to his knees. Now kneeling in front of you, his hands caress the back of your legs. Slowly, he raises his hands up your legs until they grip the bottom of your skirts. Your breath hitches in your throat as he maintains eye contact. As the cold air sends shivers down your spine, he licks a strip up your thigh. You practically snatch the fabric from him and bunch your skirts up so he can make use of both hands.

Your free hand scrapes across his scalp as Daemon removes your small cloth with his teeth. Your heart rattles in your chest with nerves, knowing this is the first time another person is going to see you this vulnerable. One of Daemon’s hands slid between your legs, rubbing between your wet folds. After teasing you for a few moments, he pushes one finger inside of you.

You moan at the strange sensation, “Gods, Daemon!”

He gives you time to adjust before starting to slowly work his finger inside you before adding another. His tongue flicks against your clitoral area as his thick fingers scissor inside you, bringing you pleasure you never thought possible. Soon your legs begin to feel terrible as the coil in your lower stomach snaps, and you scream Daemon’s name as he gives you his first orgasm.

Smirking, he kisses up your clothed body, cheekily nipping at your breast before gently pressing his lips against your own. The taste of you on him was intoxicating. Daemon nuzzles into your neck. “My sweet girl, I will show you every pleasure possible if you allow me to.”

“Yes,” you pant, still coming down from your high. You reach for Daemon’s breeches and attempt to untie them, but Daemon stops.

“We have all the time in the world to fuck for love and pleasure. But tonight, tonight is about only you, my little dragon.”

The only reply that falls from your mouth is a loud moan as Daemon begins to suck and nip at your neck while his hands begin to loosen the fabric covering your breasts.

—

𝘈 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.

“𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳; 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴.”

“𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥?” 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱.

“𝘜𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰, 𝘐’𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳.” 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘐𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘺. “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘔𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺, 𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰 𝘐.”

𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘣𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. “𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘥? 𝘖𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶?”

𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦; 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥. 𝘋𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘭; 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺, 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯; 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢. 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦. “𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘳𝘢?”

𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴, “𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘳𝘢!”

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴. 𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮; 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺, 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩.

𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴. “𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴; 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸.”

“𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳; 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯.”

“𝘋𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯!” 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰. “𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺 𝘮𝘦.”

“𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘈𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘴.”

“𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳? 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘳𝘬 𝘮𝘦? 𝘜𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘖𝘵𝘵𝘰’𝘴 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯?”

“𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳! 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳…”

Zaldrītsos - Little dragon

Ñuha zaldrītsos - My little dragon

Kepus- Uncle

[copperbadge]

RE watching thoughts: I’m not 100% sure, but it might be that the whole “I am not my thoughts” is about engaging and identifying with your metacognition MORE than your initial thoughts. Because I get where you’re coming from - what is a consciousness but a collection of thoughts and feelings? But you can also have thoughts about your own thoughts that are more useful for dealing with whatever situation you’re in, I guess. (Random aside - every time I start thinking about thinking about thinking my brain inevitably starts thinking about Tiffany Aching and The Wee Free Men.)

I really should have replied to this ask sooner because it's going to seem like a non-sequitur now (this was sent much earlier in March) but I'm kind of glad I didn't, because I've been chatting with people about this and I think I understand more why there's an emphasis in some therapies on the idea that we are not our thoughts.

(I uh, haven't read the Tiffany books so I'm not much help there.)

I am coming to understand that many, perhaps most, people judge themselves, comprehensively and harshly, based on their thoughts. Perhaps it's just a lot of people who struggle with mental health, but given the commonality of the sentiment I don't know if I'd confine it that tightly; generally it appears that people cannot conceive of themselves as anything other than a binary of good or bad. So many people I've talked to about this portion of DBT, the watching-questioning-identifying thoughts portion, say that it helps to snap them out of a spiral of "I'm a horrible person, I deserve to suffer/die, I can never be redeemed" after they've failed at something, or had a negative thought, or reacted poorly to an unexpected event.

That is not something I've ever experienced. I mean, jokingly maybe, but not in a real, internal sense.

And that's not to brag -- I'm not saying I think I'm a good person, either, because I don't think I'm a good person. I don't conceive of myself in terms of good or bad. I never cuddle my cats and think "I'm such a good cat dad" or forget to feed them and think "I should die now." I have a perpetual morally neutral attitude towards my own existence; my thoughts and actions might trend me one direction or another but I'm aware of the temporary nature of that. If I fuck up I'll worry about who I might have hurt or whether I'll be fired or what's going to happen as a consequence, if I am polite to someone who didn't deserve it I know I was acting kindly in the moment, but I don't make an inherent moral judgement of myself based on that. And it seems like the vast majority of people do. Which you would think would make me feel pretty good about myself, but honestly...I don't know.

A lot of people I know who have ADHD or are Autistic have talked about seeing themselves as other, as alien -- like that one webcomic artist who draws themself with little antennae to indicate they're strange and different. I've always understood why one might do that, but I never felt that way myself, before or after the diagnosis. After all, let's remember, I was The Normal* Child of my siblings, and if I was The Normal One before the diagnosis, why wouldn't I remain Mostly Normal after?

* As ever, I'm using "normal" as a cultural term, to indicate what we think of as mainstream, not because normal is a thing that really exists.

My life has been relatively solitary -- I have friends and family and I love them but I'm rarely part of a large group, I don't spend a lot of time out in public interacting with people, I'm not a big socializer. Before the Adderall, I really couldn't be, I took too much psychic damage from interpersonal interaction, so I chose those very carefully. And now my DBT class has been a rare moment when I'm encountering contradictions to a lot of my assumptions about the way human beings in our society interact, react, and behave. I just...don't fit that mold very well. I think of it as having crossed wiring, not in the sense that I'm faulty but just in the sense that I'm very, very different. Not Normal. It's not exactly a bad feeling but it's certainly not a great one, internalizing the sensation of alienness.

DBT is proving to be a mixed bag but not in the way I or my therapist intended -- it seems to be either things I was already instinctively doing or things that simply do not apply to me. In one way it's disappointing because it means there isn't much help to be had (we're a little over halfway through the course and I keep thinking "Maybe next class will be useful") but on the other hand it's validating that so much of what I came up with myself as unconscious coping mechanisms is literally what I would have been told to do anyway.

Sometimes it's a combination of both, though, which really blows. I guess most people, if they reframe another person's actions, actually find emotional relief in that, and I don't. An example from the class is that if someone is rude to you, you can consider how they might be having a hard day, and be polite in return; that's great, in terms of defusing a situation, and it's something I do a fair amount of. But apparently it's also something that for most people results in feeling less awful about the interaction, and that's not the case for me. Which is why so much of DBT feels to me like lying to oneself. It's not lying for most people.

So, yeah. I'm going to finish out the course and keep trying things with the therapist but I suspect given everything, I might already be at "as good as it gets" in terms of emotional work. Which isn't the worst thing in the world, and there is still the option to try medication that could help, but I think there will come a point where I'm going to have to deal with the fallout of just how different I am, and how that has impacted my life. Might end up a good thing; something I've really been trying to resolve is unhappiness over being unpartnered and highly likely to remain that way, and at least if this provides a better understanding of why, then perhaps I can process that and put it to rest in a way I've been trying to do but not succeeding well at.

So, we'll see. But I find it both fascinating and kind of horrifying how many people can believe they are irredeemably bad, even if the belief is only temporary, simply because they had an uncharitable thought or impulse. It makes me somewhat grateful for the crossed wires, at least.

[misssmina]

Characterizing Characters:

Kirishima Eijirou.

I’ll be using the source material to create a simple list of traits he has already, then based on those traits, things we can infer about him based on those behaviors.

SourceMaterial!Kirishima curses. He has a potty mouth, especially in battle.

SourceMaterial!Kirishima is a shit talker. You can hear him cracking jokes at/about other characters in the show, not maliciously of course.

SM!Kirishima was insecure as a young teen, and still struggles with negative self talk.

SM!Kirishima is very observant and emotionally intelligent.

SM!Kirishima is a big eater. Hungry boy

SM!Kirishima has a strong moral compass, it’s gotten him in trouble.

SM!Kirishima actively pushes pasts his physical limits, regardless of injury or exhaustion.

SM!Kirishima always gives people their flowers. He regularly recognizes his classmates/colleagues growth and lets them know it. He is the pep talk king.

SM!Kirishima can and WILL correct bad behavior. He regularly calls out his peers when they behave poorly.

SM!Kirishima handles criticism extremely well for a teen, takes everything he learns and applies it immediately.

SM!Kirishima is very street smart. Struggles with book smarts but is fairly studious.

SM!Kirishima has mission anxiety, probably from his first very intense missions.

Now we can make some inferences based on the information we have already.

Prohero!Kirishima has lots of scars (obviously) but based on how he uses his quirk, he’d probably have similar hand scars to Midoriya. Scars focused on his knuckles, wrists, and elbows.

Prohero!Kirishima cracks jokes at his sidekicks/mentees to keep the mood light when training.

Prohero!Kirishima is excellent with kids, probably would regularly do events for kids to teach them about heroic/chivalrous behavior.

Prohero!Kirishima eats like a dumpster. BUT macros matter more to him than calories. He will eat a carton of boiled eggs.

Prohero!Kirishima is a combat hero but made sure to learn the calming and descolation techniques that rescue hero’s use.

Prohero!Kirishima still has moments of quirk insecurity, but he talks about it openly with the public for others to relate to.

Prohero!Kirishima has pre-mission anxiety. Does better when just thrown into action.

And here are some personal head cannons I have for him. 🪨

Cracks his knuckles as a nervous tick

Will crouch to make himself shorter in a crowd so people can see over him

As a pro, he’s somehow always shocked to see fan pages and edits of himself

Hates the sound of his own voice in recordings

His memory is awful. Always remembers important dates like a day late.

Loves giving nicknames but forgets his own sometimes. (“Hey, Riot!” “*Points at himself* Me?” “???”)

Keeps telling himself he’s gonna stop swearing, keeps forgetting to stop.

Falls asleep on FaceTime kind of guy. Doesn’t just have to be with his partner, has fallen asleep on FT with Denki countless times.

Smells like sandalwood and eucalyptus.

Gives guys fist bumps and girls high fives.

Makes silly faces at kids at the grocery store.

I’m currently rewatching the show so I may do another post or other characters.