#uphold the right to privacy

[thisiswheremywritinggoes]

A state senator in the district where I work has co-sponsored a bill requiring public libraries in my state to automatically provide a list of all materials checked out by patrons age 16 and under to their parents within 24 hours of checkout. Hopefully the bill dies in committee. Barring that, I hope our governor vetoes it as soon as it reaches his desk.

I cannot even begin to tell you how asinine this bill is. How dangerous this bill is.

"But parents have a right to know what their kids are checking out of the library."

Sure, maybe you do. I don't give a fuck about your rights as a parent. The issue is whether I, as a public librarian, who follows a professional code of ethics, is under any obligation to provide that information to you. Your rights as a parent are not my concern. I don't answer to you. Your children aren't some half-witted partial-people -- they're either patrons or they aren't. And if they are, they have a right to privacy in the public library.

I'm not your ally in conducting surveillance over your child. It's not my job to make it easier for you to gather intel about your kids. That's called parenting, dude.

A child who knows their parent will be emailed a list of the materials they check out is not experiencing free, unfettered access to information. Full stop. Please pause for a moment and consider the dire consequences of this requirement.

If you want to bring your child to the library and monitor their checkouts, I won't get in your way. But, between you and me, the best thing you can do for your child is to bring them to the library and let them discover it on their own. Get out of their way. Let them browse and investigate and check out a million books and read only one of them twelve times in a row. Let them roam the shelves like they are starving and the books are food.

Stop telling them which books to read or not read. Stop sneering when they select a book from the shelf and deem it "too easy" for them, or "too difficult." If your kid is enthusiastic about an author or a series or a topic, rejoice! Enthusiastic people are the best people!

Let your toddlers pull a dozen books off the shelf -- don't worry, we pay people to put them back. Let them wander with reckless abandon. Let them make noise. We made this space for them. It's theirs. Nothing in the library can hurt them except your undeserved sense of self-importance and your prejudices. We made this space for them. Please get out of the way and let them discover it.

[spotsupstuff]

Does Spore faint when seeing Iterator insides because they are squeamish or because it's the closest thing to being naked an Iterator can be? Or a mix of both?

it's cuz they are all squeamish up in that Iterator Hivemind!!! i find it vewy vewy funny that this thang used to spectate surgeries (oh, idea- Spore was present during the polar war as a medical professional of sorts- while her facilities are unlivable, her overseers hung around Terminus and in the battlefield hospital often to offer her pool of medical knowledge from distance) so she has seen Some Real Nasty Shit. she also passed judgement on who to kill and who to try and save, since the respawn mechanic is essentially a part of the whole medicine deal. always tried to do her best to avoid doin that, but sometimes she had to give the last word like that. show her however gruesome thing on an Ancient, she's just gon' roll with it, treat it, make sure the patient is as okay as they can be

do it with an Iterator puppet n they are a fuckin goner for up to ten minutes. just falls to the floor like a log. boom. thunk. metal pipe.sfx. sayonara

[controld3vil]

i'll hex you, i'll possess you

pairing(s): aegon ii targaryen x wife!reader, aemond "one eye" targaryen x reader (unrequited/one sided)

synopsis: Your husband is gone. He perished in whatever was left of the battle, seared flesh, and dragon’s tar. As unbearable as it was, you fight for his throne against his brother. Believing it is for his for the taking.

notes: mentions of s02ep05, i fr feel so bad for aegon :( also cw: hints of obsessed!aemond (bc he's insane :D)

In quite a haste, you sped past all the onlookers like flies. They were nonexistent in your peripherals, your attention was entirely up ahead to the King’s chambers, the Kingsguards who stood by. Your Grace, they would say before allowing you passage past their protection. You took a glimpse, here in the dressing room for the King. Your King.

“Your Grace!” The seamstress chirped, turning to greet your lovely smile. And your righteous presence everywhere you went. It affected all now that you were the face of King’s Landing. It’s a hefty duty, yes, however, it seemed many subjects were willing, if not encouraged, of your subsequent role as the consoling figure for the realm to look to.

In front of a tall mirror was Aegon, in full Valyrian armor. You’d guessed the armor was passed down through his ancestral line, ancient, and beautiful it was kept. All the plates fit him perfectly with little alterations to adjust. Yet absent of the signature helmet paired with it, his blonde hair lay just above his shoulders, gently. 

Ever so kind were your visage toward the King. You could feel the corners of your lips curve warmly at the sight of him. He was handsome and eager to appease the people of his kingdom. Though he may not be the first choice for Throne, you knew he was trying his best to uphold the responsibilities and burden those must bear. You would have to bear it as well if you were Queen. 

“Good morrow,” You breathed, flattening the wrinkles of your dress as an excuse to eye at Aegon, openly. There was nothing to hide, simply it was different from his normal attire. In armor, in all of your lifetime, you never had to experience warfare, for better or worse. 

“Ah, my lovely wife!” In exclamation, your husband turns to compliment your captivating smile as he gleams contentedly. He takes a few steps down from the small stairway from the miniature podium, while some of his personal Kingsguard can be heard snickering. Which you wholeheartedly ignored as your attention laid straight to your King’s beaming face. “Just who I wanted to see!”

“I must speak with you,” Through your expressed delightfulness, the tone of your voice is quickly replaced with a sour one. And it seemed to have caught the attention of the seamstress and others in the room as they all paused at your subtle notion of privacy. “Alone.” Only when you mention it, it’s as though they were a flock of birds, all fleeing from the chambers at once. A few clatters and suddenly the doors were quietly slammed shut with a whisper of a demand. 

However, your husband did not seem fazed at all. He merely shrugged, casually walking to fill a cup or two with wine. Yet a visible glower can be caught right after he steps off the podium and to the table of beverages. Sometimes his reaction to your urgency was comedic. The King was never one to take duties earnestly. It’s one of his eminent flaws that all of the townsfolk and servants knew of. His days by the Silk Roads were but a regular story. But now, he is a changed man, Aegon thinks. They’ve witnessed all of his mistakes and tourneys. He’s young and has never been as interested in duty as his siblings. And now suddenly, he was pulled onto the seat as King. And you would have to sit beside him and watch. As a graceful symbol yet mute on what to say on any matter. 

How horrendous was that? 

“What troubles you, my sweet?” The sound of liquid plops as all of the noise from the outside world becomes muffled. For the past few days, it has been the most chaotic and tragic period of your life. Not just for you and Aegon, but everyone in King’s Landing. Your son, Jaehaerys, was left for dead at the hands of a murderer and false ruler. Panic was running through the streets of Flea Bottom. People questioned the King’s cruel punishment of the rat catchers though Aegon did not care for their grief. 

To you, it was more than sadness. But anger and confusion, all of your pent-up emotions ever since living in King’s Landing have made you become this way. The Capital has changed you. To who you were as a person and figure of nobility. Now you were suddenly the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, yet only moments ago, you were the princess of the firstborn son of the King. You should have expected war to come between siblings over the throne, yet your father persisted that the marriage would’ve led to success. Having lost your child, your son, made the promise to communicate more to Aegon. To somehow seek solace in the empty void of your heart in whatever left the world had. 

“You named Ser Criston Cole your Hand…” You mumbled slowly, the last words faded out into thin air. Was he wrong to do so? You did not want to say. For the little you knew about the battle being played at hand, you knew Aegon’s impulsiveness would come to the cost of many. Especially of the Council when they have refused relentlessly his thoughts and suggestions. So perhaps this decision would cause more upbringing for the noblemen to bleat about. “Why?”

A muffled sound and then a snort comes out of his mouth as Aegon proceeds to sip his wine. As if not a care of the world or your concern over the matter. “And why does this concern you?” 

He does the courtesy to hand you your cup, as you clasped it eagerly to swallow whatever worry your heart must feel. The Queen Regent, Aegon’s brother, Aemond, and even Criston Cole, all look for you in the guidance you have over their King. You’ve yet to make it clear that you don’t control him like many others would consider to do. You’d think it's heartless to manipulate a man of his feelings, especially your husband. 

Eventually, you lay the cup down, trailing your finger around the outer details of the golden goblet. It’s glimmering through the sun, carefully designed with outlines of a dragon and flames that surround the jugular of the base of the cup. It curves and twists under your palm as you proceed to swirl the liquid inside and watch as a mini typhoon is formed. 

“Do you believe your decision on making him Hand was just?” You lift your gaze to be met with his bright purple eyes. It always seemed intense and vivid in color whenever his attention was on you. As if you were the only person that mattered in the room. And if not at this moment.

You looked ravishing, decorated in his house colors with pops of gold from the jewelry and headwear. You had no shame in exemplifying wealth because he would give you everything willingly. No matter the cost or debt, every piece of gold, and diamond was meant to be yours. He watches as your golden droplet earrings jingle when you shake your head, contemplating your next words. “Because I do not think that was the wisest decision to be made, husband.”

“And, care to explain why?” Like every little piece of his childhood, Aegon looks at every objective like a game. Though he looked like he was trying to resist your hesitancy for his new Hand, he was staring into space at the glorious jewels that make your figure and face pop out more. 

You urged, before meeting the King by the tableside where the pitcher lay. “He is a warrior, not a politician,” You set your goblet aside, to look your husband in the eye more closely. “He does not know the ways of the people, especially those who he surrounds himself with. He was born lowborn, making him more naive than aware of tellings.” 

Yes, you make great points, he would say if you did not have that adorable scowl on your face. Aegon would admit, he was getting drunk by the minute. And your presence did not help in his regard to be sober. Regardless, he does take account of your calls, more than most that surround himself with. Everyone at the Council is eager to spout their plans and news, it makes him deaf to the ear when they have nothing to contribute when he suggests something. Nevertheless, you at least are supportive of his thoughts. Despite your constructive nature, he appreciates and craves your attention. 

Your King hums, drowsily and that was when you knew his mind was somewhere else. You would admit, you too were becoming tipsy with alcohol. After the morning Council meeting, you rather have your head hung outside with ratcatchers at the mess of the Council. You glance at his attire once more and this time, he catches you. He sees you, the way your doe eyes wander up and down his figure. He rarely has a chance to wear dragon armor like this. 

“Distracted, are we?” His breath immediately inches away from yours. And the scent of strong alcohol stings. You’re so accustomed to it, that you’re surprised you would still rebuke the scent of it. Apart from that, the look Aegon gives you makes your heart weak. His smile is sluggish but pulls you in like a serpent in water. It’s alluring and hypnotizing, the way his focus wanders in all of you, and the same for him. You can’t help but wonder if the work of the armor was tricked. And you let your desires plunder when you trace his breastplate armor. Of the harsh outlines it’s supposed to represent dragon scales. It’s majestic and divine, fit for a king. 

Almost timidly, your husband giggles at your touch. He separates a stray hair from your cheek, allowing leeway more into your personal space. You can’t feel automatically embarrassed if someone were to barge in. Because anyone could, the seamstress, Kingsguard, or worse, his mother. 

“Wear that armor more often and perhaps you’ll receive more than indecent staring,” A mischievous grin forms as again another jingle of your golden jewelry. Gods, you’re enticing and coy. Had he mentioned that? More than once. 

The first time you were at Court, it was a spur of surprise. Not only had you arrived with Prince Aemond unannounced, but Aegon encouraged it. You would suspect the disapproving faces of the men, especially coming from the King’s Hand and grandsire. How he ploys and plots with every citizen of King’s Landing to do his bidding. To save the Realm, of course, more to have the most influence in the city. You were aware of what he thinks of you. An obedient and dainty princess. The Queen and wife to the King should have no right to speak of politics. 

And yet here you were. 

“You do not have a seat in this Council,” Queen Regent, Alicent urges, gazing at her second son with slight apprehension. In doubt, she feels a quick quiver of fear the moment Aemond strides past the Council table. When it came to you, Alicent could only muster a poor glance. The one-eyed prince proceeds towards the map of Westeros that stands beside the King. He strides in confidence, abruptly ignoring every piercing stare bestowed on him. Other than him, you reached towards the seat at the opposing side of your King, hand delicately trailing down the handles of the chair.

“Aemond is my closest blood and our strongest sword. I welcome him,” Aegon lay unfazed at the subtle shocked expressions on everyone’s faces. “As for my wife, I think it should be customary for her to be by my side even in Council. As my father has allowed you to do for him, remember mother?” A playful grin, all-knowing of his lightheartedness, and carelessness of what others thought of his decisions. Surely his mother would be the most understanding, bestowing the same position many years ago when King Viserys was dealt ill and immobile. Shouldn’t the Queen beside her King as should they in every instance? 

Alicent is silent in her displeasure. There was no reason to refute the King’s wishes and sometimes made you appreciative of Aegon’s power and status. Being King was a risky position however it offered you more freedom and the ability to speak your mind more often than not. Your husband was the cause of this leverage for the most part. You expected the Queen Dowager to give you any kind of sign of comfort except there was none. Only but a forgotten thought and you were dismissed. 

It fills you with dismay, a small black hole for where her approval was meant to be. For the last few days, you’d only wished for Alicent’s consoling eyes.

“We should send troops marching to Harrehal, the Riverlands have the largest force.” Aemond waves his hand over where the location of Riverrun is plastered on the wall. It’s curved in cursive lettering, surrounding soft green fields, most notably of their Southern lands, which was an inhabited place of divided houses and discourse. The largest force, it had many issues of compromises and its lordship. “With them, Rhaenyra’s forces would be left vulnerable on land.”

The accordance of hums coaxed the second son with assurance. A sense of pride if you will, knowing how much more skilled and knowable he was than his brother. But the Hand was quick to question his methods. 

“And what of the small Houses of Riverrun? The Brackens and Blackwoods have been fighting each other for centuries. They would never work together as one,” Otto points out and it brings more skepticism and worry to the other Councilmen. Alliances with the Southerners were awkward. They do not know when or where to stop the fight. And it has become extremely bothersome at the time of war. The Bracken and Blackwoods were examples of that. They proceeded with the war more for themselves and would kill hundreds of their men if it meant to end their rivalry before the war even began. 

“We should negotiate with smaller Houses beyond the River lands then,” Your lips shudder slightly when the immediate eyes turn to you. Even your husband stares at you in astonishment and curiosity the same. Alicent looks at you warily. And Aemond, all too mysterious, holds a neutral look. “Would it not help Ser Criston Cole secure more of the surrounding Houses towards their larger forces? Gaining allies along the way to Riverrun would only add more to our numbers,”

“And in truth, give us a better advantage to overruling Riverrun altogether?” A devilish grin was on Aegon’s face at your suggestion. Your advice seemed promising and seemed risky but it was the most practical. King’s Landing had more advantage on land than the sea or sky, therefore it was evident in their leverage over the smaller Houses close to Riverrun. 

You tilt your head in amusement, all while lowering yourself to sit down. Yes, even though you had no experience in politics or war, you listened. You had ears whenever you managed to walk past one of their meetings. It should be frowned upon but you did not care. You wanted to have more say in protecting your family and House. Most things had been provided for you at an early age. You were a princess with a wealthy father, negotiations were your family’s specialty. You learned early on how to enunciate and please people with the way of your words. And here, you simply voiced what you believed was the safest way to Riverrun. Despite all the demeanors, none of the other Councilmen had anything else to say or disprove of your plans. 

“Good! Then it’s settled then,” The king rises, as well as everyone else who feels startled at his shifted demeanor. “Then Ser Criston Cole should prepare some men for the long journey ahead of us by dawn!” It was then you felt some sort of pride that would solidify your position at the Council. As long as you hold a strong mind, should your advice become helpful towards the men, you’d hoped they would see your presence as a blessing. 

In some midst of it all or perhaps the end, Aemond is quiet. He’s curious and admires you for everything you strive for. Many people would assume he despises you for taking the initiative to aid his king. But he does not believe in that no, you’re a delicate thing and would never be selfish on greed. Merely he can appreciate your ambitious strides from afar. The way you act around the people, the Council, and his mother makes him believe you were born into the role of Queen. You care for your subjects and think of what’s best for them. You do your best to stay by your king’s side even though he lacks the mind for it. 

Perhaps maybe, in some cases, he should’ve had you. 

The words struck right out of his head just when everyone was dismissed. While the nobleman rushes out of the council room, he delays his leave momentarily to catch a glimpse of you. You define the example of his House’s wealth, always proud to dress in colors of black and crimson red as if it was your second skin. However you do not forget about your own House colors, you embrace it all together with his own and it makes him wonder what kind of beauty like yourself can be persuaded by the likes of his brother. You were quick-witted, amusing, and altogether undeserving of Aegon’s love. 

You do not immediately flee the room as his mother or Ser Criston Cole had done. Instead, you slowly rise from your seat and make your way to your husband, eagerly. Aegon sits comfortably in his golden chair, smug with loving eyes at your figure. He could not help but eye at you openly even with his Kingsguard standing beside him. 

“Aemond, may we have the room?” He hears his older brother say. It does not take a blind man to know the following events as the one-eyed prince simply tilts his head in your direction. Before storming out of the room and the slam of the doors. His footsteps clank against the cold cobblestone pavement as he makes his way to his room. But all he could think about was your lively laughter as he disappeared from the scene. 

The day after Cole’s troops arrived back at King’s Landing, you felt a string of worry crawling down your spine. As you pace across your bedroom, you fiddle with the ends of your loose hair to solace the anxiety you feel in your stomach. The pit was too unbearable as more men would be escorted out towards Rook’s Rest. After Aegon removed Otto Hightower as Hand, Criston Cole became the primary candidate for the position. You voiced your concerns before but Aegon had yet to change his decisions on your advice.

Now rumors have spread that by the time Cole invades Rook’s Rest, Aemond would be by his side to counter whatever attack Rhaenyra plans to defend her councilman. It would risk losing one dragon, the biggest and largest female beast you’d seen. Doubt fills your mind when you try to shake your worries away. You shook your hands feverishly and swatted away the sweat building up against your palms. You must speak to Aemond. You should warn him of the consequences of this act. 

You found the prince outside of the castle. Vhagar resides in a shallow space close to the gateways to the city and is attentively monitored for her whereabouts. Very few dragon keepers watch over the powerful beast for her dangerous nature and size. As a cart, full of sheep was being carried by horses, you looked in awe at the amount of necessity the castle must provide for their dragons now. Surely it would impact the people’s living and cost. It worries you how chaotic and unlawful the palace seemed to behave in times of war. Even though you find yourself wanting to question Aemond’s intentions of helping Cole this way. 

Your words settle like a soothing wave in his ears. “Prince Aemond,” And when the one-eyed prince spots you, holding the reins of your horse with a steady hand, he’s not afraid to show his approval of your presence. The colors you wear today are regarded as wealth and beauty. The golden linen stretches along the cloth of obsidian, representative of his House, your House. The gown expands upon your collarbone, allowing the silver necklace you have on to become the ire of his attention. It entices him, brings him into your line of view. Clear cut diamonds you had on your earlobes, they jingle at the slightest movement you make, as you make your way towards him with ease. 

“Your Grace,” He prompts, politely. He is a plain canvas for you to paint over, to inspect over. You should not be afraid of his presence because he behaves well under yours. The prince regent eyes you down carefully and you’re vaguely reminded of the day before, the two of you entered the Council room.

“How was your ride with Vhagar?” You tenderly incite, head tilting towards his beast. Vhagar sits lazily with her entire body blended into the environment. Her muddy green scales combine with the grassy interior. The dragon pits were deemed too small for her size. And more so claustrophobic for a creature of her caliber, as a champion of many wars and destruction, Vhagar is rather docile for being the largest dragon. 

He hums before easily answering. “The morrow dew is not something to be missed during this time. Vhagar could sense it, and the warm breeze is sure to come sooner for summer,” He crossed his arms behind his back as if analyzing your every breath as you walked in irregular patterns, trailing along where his dragon resides. Your attention was not fully on him. No, not that he wouldn’t mind. But it was ignorant on your part to ignore him so easily. “Now save the rest of this nonsense for supper or shall I ask what were your real intentions for coming here? Though I welcome it,” 

You catch onto his coarse tone. Aemond dislikes those who do not take him seriously, like his brother. And you are aware of his estranged heart. You give him a look of consideration. It was the look of someone who had the upper hand. You knew he was becoming impatient with your meddling. 

“What are your plans with Criston Cole going to Rook’s Rest?” Your figure fully faces him now as you cup your hands together modestly. Surely the prince of the realm should respect the Queen’s uncertainties when he meets with the King’s Hand behind his back. A sliver of dread falls on the blonde prince as you take a step closer. “Consoling with the Hand without the King’s presence is extremely demeaning, my prince. Surely you have a right reason to go behind his back,” 

He takes a step forward, as Aemond’s eye moves back and forth from you. “We have a plan,” He is recursive in his thoughts and manners. Yet under your eyes, he feels utterly weak and broken, as if you have put a spell on him. “It is best if the King does not intervene.”

 Shaking your head disapprovingly, you fake disappointment. “Then what do you plan to do?” The longer it went on, the more you could feel his blood rising at the way you glanced and teased at his exploits. “As I, the Queen should know.”

“You need not,” The second son grunts, moving away to leave whatever conversation you were trying to muster with him. You intended to snuff out his plans with Criston Cole and expose them to your King's husband. Your King husband. What would he know of battles and formation? He knew better strategy than him yet you still side with Aegon with his pathetic whims on the townsfolk. 

Unsatisfied, you shot a disapproving grin. “I know you intend on attacking Rook’s Rest as a surprise, why else would you go with Cole?” You heard his mudded footsteps stop momentarily as you continued. “My question to it is, what are you trying to prove out of this act of disloyalty?” It flicks a trigger in him. A quick flash of anger, jealousy, and disgust, all coiled into one hole that explodes. 

“I intend to prove I am the better fit as heir,” His tone is sharp and alert as he stomps back to you with a violent gaze. His one good remaining eye, unharmed and uncut, shoots daggers at your stern face. A small part of you thinks he is handsome. The way you can rile him within seconds gives you a sense of joy and satisfaction that quenches whatever annoyance you had of him before.

“There is no denying that,” Your lips agape still at how much you were able to pry out of Aemond. However, there was one detail you needed to remind him of. “But you fail to recognize that Aegon still has an heir, Maegor.” With that, you close your mouth to form a thin line as you stand more confidently against the prince’s deadly stare. “And as Queen, I hope you do not try to cross your King’s benevolent trust with your anger.” 

It was his turn to remain there motionless. The one-eyed prince repeats your words over and over again. He contemplates them long and hard, glaring at the ground, at where you stood, close to his breath and space. But all of his emotional desires could be examples of an ill temper. You twist and turn his head like a puppeteer to a helpless marionette. And his strings had long sprung and trapped him in an immobile place.

He leaves without a word.

The battle was over. But the war continued. You became increasingly paranoid as no word from Cole’s army of Aegon’s wellbeing. You heard unreliable news. This and that but you wanted the real thing. The truth from a real member who had witnessed the battle at Rook’s Rest. As you twist the ring on your finger, you glance towards the rising crowd in the city. There were so many citizens.  They succeeded and followed like colonies of ants. 

Your anguish was reassured when the sight of the King’s army appeared. Shouts and screams returned you from your thoughts as hundreds of men walked and rode on horseback. Your lively expression did not last long, only to falter when meant with their solemn faces. What a grim battle it must’ve been.

“All hail King Aegon! Who went against and slain the traitor, Rhaenys, and her dragon, Meleys!” Cole exclaims in a harsh and undeserving undertone. From where you stood, on the high mounts of the castle, you saw the horrors of what they’ve done to the traitors. A severed head of the Red Queen, without her rider. Her flesh was torn and burnt. Charred from the attacks of another dragon, you did not believe Aegon had done so. You had doubts and Criston’s indifferent frown proved your intuition. 

Alicent was by the patio where you spied on the citizens of King’s Landing. She observes and feels a familiar dread from the aftermath she has yet to witness for herself. You have taken the position of Queen and in turn, must understand the order of things. Simply because she had a feeling that things did not seem as they were predicted by the townsfolk. 

When the wooden carriage of your husband is delivered to your bed chambers, everyone storms aside for the guards to set it on the floor. You arrived shortly after, nails and teeth clenched in fear as your mother-in-law appeared beside you with the same fixation. And somewhere else, your brother-in-law, Aemond carefully watches your scared position. The lid lifts and the soldiers hold onto the emergency bed that protects their King. In a swift motion, they lift and allow the body to hover over your shared bed.

In patience and precision, Maester Orywle walks into the chambers with several other maesters under his wing to begin a procedure and analysis of his injured body. The room is quickly transformed into a medical room, with various tools and gadgets displayed for the maesters disposal. You had little clue what they were doing, worried about your husband’s awakened state. 

“How is he?” You stumbled by the foot of the bed, where the other maesters scurry to give off Maester Orwyle a scalpel. Gods, the wounds he had mustered. You felt terrified and rightfully so. This could be the last time you see your husband, alive and breathing. “Is he awake?”

“I’m not sure, Your Grace,” Maester Orwlye replies with adequate patience. Knowing the panic and hysteria you must feel for your king, your husband, he pities in your state. You should not deserve such sorrow. “But I must be given time to work on his fatal wounds. Whether he lives or not will be confirmed afterward.” His unflinching face softens when glances at one of Aegon’s personal Kingsguard to escort you outside. The knight nods and walks forward to excuse himself before coming forward.

“My apologies, Your Grace,”

Yet you did not want to leave. Your palms felt hot and guilt-ridden with the idea of leaving Aegon alone to suffer. You urge, taking a step forward for only Maester Orwyle to hear. “How long can you be sure he will survive?” It’s so hushed with desperation in your voice. But the maester could only respond with a sorrowful shake. It breaks your heart wholly, to know not even the best medical professionals had a clear understanding or answer to their King’s expectancy. 

As you feel pathetic tears, ready to fall, the Queen Regent rushes to take hold of your forearm. She drags your pitiful self out of the chambers. The bodies that remained stepped aside for you and Alicent to leave swiftly. A quick flash of silver and black vanishes from your peripherals, but you cannot process anything that is happening anymore. 

The syllables of your name ring against your ears as the Queen Regent tries to bring you back to her. “My dear, please focus on me.” Delicate fingers drape a hold of your jaw, firmly. They smooth over the apples of your cheeks, smoothly and soothingly like a gesture a mother would do for their children. “You need to stand strong for Aegon and yourself. Your children, think of Jaehaera and Meagor! Pray to the gods for his health.” 

With that, you took a deep breath. 

Aemond was avoidant to the whole ordeal. No one besides Criston Cole was there when he found his brother’s scorched body. Alongside his dragon, Sunfrye, it looked as though he was fighting for his last breath. Aemond would’ve taken that chance to send him to eternal sleep if not for Cole’s arrival. A pity for him.

As he watches the scene before him, your grief-stricken features are what caused the most pain. You resembled a tragic painting, so angelic it’s saddening to see you this way. Aemond could’ve done it. He could have killed his brother and taken the glory of killing Meleys. Despite that, he did not and stormed from the scene. Now left in the shadows of what’s to come, he numbly waits for the maester’s work to be done with. The Council meeting will begin shortly. After Aegon’s procedure and Maester Orywle, official confirmation of whether he would live or not would determine whether he would become the true heir or not. 

This was what he wanted, yes? 

Except, everything was bleak now. All the colors he witnessed were suddenly wiped; now all he saw was black and white. Your tragic face comes into mind, along with your fragile sniffles and tears. Gods, he wanted to comfort your sweet little heart. Yet knowing he was the cause of it, made Aemond strangely more devoted to you. If Aegon does not survive, you are bound to be a widow. Your youngest child, Meagor was still but a babe, unfit and too young to understand what an heir was. Therefore he would be the rightful option if all else failed. He would rule in the King’s stead. 

That was what the one-eyed prince considered when he stepped through the doors to begin the Council. The King’s chair was empty as expected, looking lonely and authoritative without its ruler. In the same sense, on the opposite side, you sat soberly with nothing but a blank look. You wore cool-toned colors this morning. It reflected much of what you must be feeling. 

Grief, misery, and blame.  Even in this poor state, he still considers you attractive and alluring. It’s a shame you looked dejected and lifeless despite all your energy and might to stay awake. Your hair was even braided in a simpler style. Knowing you always had a knack for extraverted taste, Aemond takes in your appearance profoundly. Because perhaps, everyone in the Council can understand the emphasis on the wife of the King. As they eagerly await Maester Orwyle’s results, they all gaze at your seat for any kind of solace. 

He takes the chair to your left and sits. While the Grand Maester begins to explain Aegon’s conditions. The longer he spewed, the more you felt your heavy heart fall deeper into your chest. How would the realm react now? Their king suddenly struck and immobile to be by their side. He had defeated Rhaenys in battle however now suffered in a long-inducing coma just as his father did. Who would rule in his absence? It only made sense in your mind but you did not make it become a reality. 

“But he is very much alive, Your Grace,” Maester Orywle gives an earnest smile to the Queen Mother as she exhales with the utmost relief. “Though he will need time to recover, I do not think he will ever be the same.” 

An unfavorable grunt from Aemond brings attention from you and Cole. “So he is unable to leave his chambers.”

“I’m afraid not,” 

“Then we must choose who is to rule in his stead,” Lord Wylde speaks of the obvious, sparing everyone a momentary glance. He clears his throat and rubs his beard, nervously.

“If anyone should come in Aegon’s stead, it is his wife,” Alicent jabs, shooting quick assertiveness when she presses her crossed palms onto the table. Your name leaves her lips as a clear sign of hope. “She was the closest companion to the King and has been since this war started. It is only right for her to continue her husband’s intentions and plans.” 

“And what plans did the King have?” A pompous statement coming from her second son, which surprised you as well. Aemond was known for his restrained nature however it seems as days passed, he was slowly losing his grip on his sanity. “I am the closest heir the King has. Would it not be I who rules in his stead?” In the turn of the tides, the room is divided upon their suggestions. You can tell by the wary looks the lords hold with each other. However, you have been grateful for Alicent’s support regardless of the cold shoulder she has given you previously. 

“You are not fit, Prince Aemond,” Your fingers slide and take hold of the marble ball in front of you. The weight of the object pleasantly gives you a boost of poise to look him in his one good remaining eye. “The King’s line is still secured for my son, Meagor will become the next heir. But he is young so for the time being, I am naturally the next in line to come to his stead. As his wife and Queen, I should have a say as well.” 

It’s what Aegon would’ve wanted.

[femmefatalevibe]

25 Life Lessons I've Learned In 25 Years

In honor of turning 25 this month, here are some lessons I wish someone could've baked into my brain by 18. Hope this helps xx

Putting yourself first is not selfish, it is an act of self-care. Actively discounting others is not the same as protecting your peace.

Pay attention to who gossips and keeps to themselves amidst an interpersonal conflict. Insecure people or those in the wrong will speak the loudest and go on the longest in a fight to prove their innocence. Individuals who are self-assured and comfortable with the truth know it's better to communicate their feelings appropriately and then move past it. Confidence is assertive, tactful, and relatively silent.

If you want to know who to believe in an argument, pay attention to how both sides speak about the conflict. The perpetrator will often speak about the individuals' character/morality while the victim will explain their personal experience in the context of the relevant situation.

Display empathy and consideration, but don't live to satisfy others' emotional needs and expectations. Say farewell to anyone who dismisses or guilts you for your own needs, emotions, priorities/life goals & aspirations.

Your needs matter. No one needs to approve or validate your desires. If someone feels they have control over you or tries to persuade you to change your mind to ensure you put their emotions and needs first, cut them out of your life. They do not care about you.

Almost no one deserves insider access into your life and mind. Upholding your right to privacy – especially regarding your finances, dating life, health conditions/concerns, and long-term goals – is the simplest way to protect your peace.

A friend to all is a friend to none. Be wary of those who will not stand up for you behind closed doors. These people do not care about you, they care about what your place in their life does for them and their ego.

Be radically honest and accepting of who you are. Don't apologize for your preferences, aspirations, and values. You deserve to live in a way that makes you happy, not to appease others in hopes of their approval or future favors due to your karmic good deeds.

You deserve happiness, love, and nice things, life experiences, relationships, and opportunities in your life regardless of what others may or may not possess/ be able to experience. Dispel this scarcity mindset ASAP. Jealousy and internalized shame are destructive to your self-esteem and all your relationships.

You are worthy and offer many incredible, unique gifts to the world. Don't allow naysayers, critics, or bullies (of any age) to dim your light or sacrifice pursuing your dreams. Decide you're the leader of your own life. Then act accordingly.

Direct communication is always the way. Remain tactful, but at least when dealing with non-manipulative people, always say what you mean and mean what you say. It will save a lot of trouble and petty disagreements that could've been avoided with clearer communication.

You don't owe anyone an explanation for your feelings, emotions, and actions that don't have a direct, inescapable impact on someone else. "No" is a complete sentence.

Approach conversations as a meeting of the minds. Healthy debate or conflict is about seeking to understand the other person, not prove yourself right. Leaving your ego at the door will allow you to expand your mind and avoid many unnecessary conflicts or arguments.

If it's not a hell yes, it's a no. For a job, date, sex, attendance at a time-sucking social event, family gatherings, an informal meeting not essential for you to keep your job, a wedding, birthday party, holiday invitation, etc. Outside of your contracted hours and time necessary to keep yourself/your home clean & well-maintained, you should spend your time exactly as you please. Doing things you don't want to do will only breed resentment down the line toward yourself and others.

Detangle yourself from any who refuses to self-reflect and take accountability. This person is selfish and will never see you as fully human with emotions, needs, and a complete life/internal world of your own. Cut them out (or at least fully emotionally detach and limit contact with them) immediately.

Speak your truth, but always say a little less than you feel necessary. Overexplaning and oversharing do you no favors. At a minimum, this approach allows you to protect your peace. In the worst circumstances, this tactic can also save you from a lot of trouble in your personal or professional life.

Learn to ask for a little more than you're comfortable with, but do so with grace, tact, and confidence. Whether it's a salary/rate negotiation, flight/hotel/restaurant accommodations, get in the habit of making that slightly higher/up-leveled request like you're expecting a "yes." You can't get something you don't ask for, so speak up and show you know your worth. This habit can bring a lot of great opportunity into your life and builds up your confidence.

Everyone is on their own timeline and path. Don't compare yourself to others' credentials, job titles, relationship status, net worths, or jean sizes. Comparison is truly the thief of joy. Remaining envious of others only takes up the energy that could otherwise be used to elevate or enrich your life.

Become clear on your priorities, and remain diligent with your habits & routines. Set SMART goals. Implement healthy habits and rituals into your daily lifestyle. Be consistent with goal-supporting and wellness rituals (generous sleep schedule, healthful eating habits, daily movement/regular exercise, reading, task time-blocking, cleaning, and life/work admin schedule), so they become second nature. Help yourself by creating these default habits to ensure your brain is wired for success whether you're in an easygoing era or a stressful life season.

Stop seeing other people (especially other women) as your competition in your profession/dating life and within your platonic relationships. Use your immediate criticisms as a tool for self-reflection. Actively deconstruct the patriarchy in every aspect of your life. Other women coworkers, dating prospects, and friends are not your rivals nor individuals who should be evaluated based on their assertiveness, sexual history/appeal, relationship status, or desire to perform traditional maternal/domestic roles.

Understanding how to interact with others in a cordial, tactful manner is significantly more important than having everyone like you. Learn how to positively influence people without seeking approval. What other people think of us is none of our business. All we can do is show up as the best version of ourselves, and remain optimistic about a potential connection.

Acceptance, accountability, and consistent discipline are the holy trinity to creating a sustainable change that you can maintain for the long haul. There's no shame in starting from the bottom, but you need to be honest about where you're at, so you can create a realistic game plan/small behavior-changing habits that stack up over time to help you implement the radical change you're craving.

Let go of any internalized shame. Being the "good girl" does you no favors in life. Set a standard and expectation to be respected, not to be perceived as "innocent" or submissive – this is how you get taken advantage of in professional, platonic, and intimate relationships. Remain ravenous for respect. It's the only way to live life to the fullest.

24. Investing in your appearance is a form of self-respect. Wanting to look & feel your best and present yourself in the best light possible to others is not a superficial pursuit. Remain unwavering about your hygiene/beauty/grooming routines, deliberate styling choices, healthy eating & workout habits, and mindfulness of social graces. You're your #1 publicist, so act like it. Life is all about embracing satisfaction with a sprinkle of reputation management.

25. Be unapologetic about your financial ambitions, priorities, investments, savings goals, etc. Financial freedom IS freedom. The only way to change the system is to break it from the inside out. Leverage is everything. Allocate, and assert your (financial) power wisely.

[truetogaia]

✮-- Mind stuffed with thoughts about sucking off dbf!miguel in the privacy of your own room

Your soft hands gripped at his big thighs as he sat in front of you. His cock was snug in your tight little throat, mushroomy tip abusing the back of it as his girth forced tears to well in the corner of your eyes. He was throbbing in your hot, wet mouth as your saliva pooled at his base and dripped down his balls. 

Miguel couldn’t suppress the quiet groans and grunts of pleasure, occasionally letting them slip from his lips. His breaths grew shorter as your throat contracted so deliciously around his hot tip, wet tongue running up and down his slit, circling the head. Your pretty, wet lashes fluttered with each bob of your head, cheeks already damp and stained by the rolling tears. 

He couldn’t help but thrust lazily into your mouth when you took him extra deep, not when you made sure to hum and moan around his cock. Or when your eyes found his, locking his gaze with yours as you gagged on his length, making sure to let him know just how big he was.

“M-mierda..” he’d mumble under his breath, desperately trying to uphold a facade of control as his large hand gripped your makeshift ponytail. 

“Eager? Hm, cariño? Quiet down the gagging, someone might.. hear- fuck..” His ragged breath and lust filled eyes just spurred you on, making you take him so deep your nose was flush against his base, eyes watering again right after you had just managed to blink away all the tears. 

Miguel masterlist

[angelltheninth]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do The Hazbin Cast x Reader, where they and Reader are having a romantic moment to themselves, and before anything more could happen, suddenly something or someone ruins the moment?

See... I both hate and love this trope. It's funny as hell, but frustrating as hell too.

Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Adam, Vox, Valentino x Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, interrupted romantic moment, canon typical violence, blood, suggestive, date night

A/N: I would punch anyone who interrupts me. And I'm not a violent person. So uh... these characters have an effect on me lmao.

Charlie acts very calm unless either or both of you is in any state of undress. There’s no one more affectionate than her, displaying that in front of others is fine with her, she wants others to know of her love for you. It’s a different thing if it’s in a more intimate setting where she expected to have alone time with you. With a deep breath, some blushing and a groan she would try to get rid of distractions as soon as possible but at the same time. she would apologize to whoever interrupted you for shooing them away.

Vaggie has a blade at hand and it is promptly thrown next to the head of whoever interrupted you. Deep down she is a huge romantic and enjoys being romanced a lot, on the surface she is a badass fighter and she had an image to uphold with many people. There’s a lot of yelling and cursing, probably more than one threat of killing someone before she is back by your side, grumbling and murmuring to herself about forgetting to lock the damn door.

Alastor threatens to tear apart anyone who interrupts you, he puts that out as a warning because of how many times it’s happened in the past and he’s grown tired of being in a middle of a dance or cuddling and someone barging in wanting something. Usually he’s the one who walks in without knocking, now he’s getting to see how it feels. It doesn’t feel good, a full record scratch, even his shadow looks pissed off at even the slightest interruption.

Lucifer is in good spirits recently so even something as an interrupted date doesn’t get under his skin, if it was before it would have been a different story. Right now wile a little annoyed he can forgive and forget, after all no one saw anything too scandalous, although some would say that seeing the King of Hell in handcuffs is pretty scandalous by itself. As long as this doesn’t happen again it will be fine, although he knows you will tease him for it later.

Angel Dust obviously doesn’t mind it too much, on the surface at least, he is a porn star so getting watched is part of the job. That’s in the studio at least, at the Hotel he has the privacy he never had before, he likes it a lot actually, it’s almost too good to be true. Maybe he will occasionally flirt with or tease who ever interrupted you but in these four walls he is all yours and he won’t let the mood be spoiled by anyone, including his boss.

Husk groans and pulls your face close to his neck to help you hide your flushed face from the onlooker. How is this so perfectly timed, right when he wanted to take your clothes off and have a bit of fun with you someone just had to walk in. Well they’re really lucky he’s not as powerful as he once was otherwise they would be splattered all over the walls right now and would have to put themselves together while he makes out with you.

Sir Pentious hides his face behind his hat the moment someone enters his bedroom and sees you on top of him. Damn it, he told his Egg Boiz to make sure no one enters his bedroom, which also applies to them, until one of you steps out first, no matter what noises are heard from inside. As soon as you’re done and you think you’re gonna sleep he slithers out and starts working on plans for a new machine to make sure no one interrupts you ever again: a doorbell with a laser.

Adam yells at the person who interrupted the two of you because damn he’s been waiting the whole day to have you all to himself, all moody and pent up. This is his time with you, which means that no one gets to tell him he’s needed elsewhere before he’s done with you. He wraps you up with his wings if he sees you’re getting embaressed but really now, considering everything you do together getting watched shouldn’t be an issue.

Vox flinches when he gets a ping that someone’s crossed in front of his cameras which he set up just so no one catches the two of you in a compromising position. He sighs as he pulls away and covers you with a blanket, hiding your body from anyone’s view but his, which is funny because he has an insight into almost everyone else’s love life. For a demon like that he wants to keep his own affairs fairly private, at least the bedroom kind.

Valentino grins at the person who walks in on the two of you, he has zero shame regardless of your own level of shame he will brag about everything that happens and if someone sees it then even better. Besides he is the Overlord of the the porn industry, you knew things like this could happen when you began your relationship with him. He is so comfortable in fact that he will just keep going, kissing you occasionally to tell you that you’re doing a good job in front of a crowd.

[taikeero-lecoredier]

Chat Control in a nutshell (please reblog this, US people)

Find out more about Chat Control here TAKE ACTION HERE ! OR HERE Calling is much more efficient ! The latter link will redirect you to the official websites of your respective reps. Under the "read more", you will find what you need to say/write when contacting your reps. You will also find an alternate format of this comic,and I give explicit permission for people to translate it and spread it anywhere for awareness. Credit really not needed, I don't care about that rn Even if this is a EU proposal, I am urging Americans to also share this, since it goes hand in hand with KOSA. DON'T FORGET TO JOIN OUR DISCORD SERVER AGAINST CHAT CONTROL ! https://discord.com/invite/e7FYdYnMkS

(Latest update on Chat Control was the 12 september 2024) This is a little long, so feel free to shorten it as you wish : Subject line: "2022/0155(COD) Dear Sir/Madam, I am writing to express my grave concerns regarding the proposed introduction of "Chat Control" This measure poses a serious threat to the privacy and fundamental rights of all EU citizens and stands in stark contradiction to the core principles that the European Union seeks to uphold. The proposed Chat Control contravenes Articles 7 and 8 of the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European Union, which guarantee the right to respect for private and family life and the protection of personal data. The indiscriminate surveillance of private messages without specific suspicion or cause directly violates these fundamental rights. The General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) sets out stringent rules for the processing of personal data. The proposed indiscriminate surveillance and scanning of private messages before end-to-end encryption is fundamentally incompatible with the principles of data minimization and purpose limitation enshrined in the GDPR. Specifically, Articles 5 and 6 of the GDPR, which govern the lawfulness and principles of data processing, would be violated by the introduction of such measures. The implementation of Client-Side Scanning (CSS) on devices means that all messages and files are scanned on the user's device before being encrypted and sent. This effectively nullifies the protection offered by end-to-end encryption and opens the door to misuse and additional security vulnerabilities. Moreover, the technical capability to scan such content could be exploited by malicious actors to circumvent or manipulate surveillance mechanisms. Such far-reaching surveillance measures not only endanger privacy but also freedom of expression. The knowledge that their private messages are being scanned and monitored could significantly restrict individuals' willingness to freely express themselves. Additionally, trust in digital communication platforms would be severely undermined. I urge you to take a strong stance against this disproportionate and unlawful measure. The privacy and digital rights of EU citizens must be safeguarded. It is imperative that we protect our fundamental rights and ensure transparency in the decision-making processes of our leaders. For more detailed information on the proposal and its implications, please refer to the following resource: Link to Netzpolitik article. https://www.patrick-breyer.de/rat-soll-chatkontrolle-durchwinken-werde-jetzt-aktiv/ Thank you for your attention to this critical matter. Sincerely, [Name] Art. 10 GG , Art. 8 & 11 EU Charta , Art. 8 EMRK (Alternate comic here V)

[bloodanddiscoballs]

I shouldn't have to give my fucking ID just to look at websites that my stupid backwards state deems "too adult". What is too adult? What do they consider porn? Are all discussions around sex and gender considered Not Safe For Work? What does that term even mean anymore? What am I then going to be fired for, put on a government list for, be arrested for? Restricting the right to privacy in one's own home is actually an infringement on the rights these Republicans and Democrats say they want to uphold via the Constitution. But no. It's about fucking control and violence on the population.

I'm TIRED.

[bloomzone]

GLOW UP DIARY #4 : THE IMPORTANCE OF BOUNDARIES

"when u laugh,u think more positively"

-Park sunghoon (enhypen)

© bloomzone

#4 BOUNDARIES

💬:Boundaries are limits we set for ourselves. Everyone's boundaries are different, and they are based on what is personally important to us. They can be set in several aspects of life, such as work, relationships, family, and in conflict it can be physical or emotional limits and help to determine a person's comfort level, needs, and preferences. Essentially, boundaries dictate how we want/ allow ourselves to be treated, and how we treat others. Healthy boundaries allow for accountability, respect, and open communication.

Drawing the Line: Understanding and Setting Healthy Boundaries

﹙ 💌 ﹚ If you grew up in a home where no boundaries were set or where people violated your boundaries, setting and maintaining boundaries may be difficult. It is okay if it is hard. Setting clear boundaries is not selfish, it sets the tone for healthy relationships and is an important part of one's own well being. If you ever notice you feel resentful or drained by a person/place/situation, it may be time to look at the boundaries. Remember, boundaries are not threats or ultimatums. Sometimes it is hard for other's to respect our boundaries, but this is not a reflection of you.

Healthy boundaries look like...

• valuing your own opinion

• respecting limits set by you/ others

• not compromising own values for someone else

• sharing information appropriately

• effectively communicating needs/wants

• accepting "no" from others

• being able to say "no"

• being able to identify when a boundary has been broken

TYPE OF BOUNDARIES

Physical Boundaries: These relate to personal space, physical touch, and privacy. Examples include not wanting to be hugged or feeling uncomfortable being touched without permission. "I need personal space and don't appreciate being touched without consent."

Emotional Boundaries: These separate your emotions and responsibilities from others. Examples include not allowing yourself to be blamed for someone else's issues or not taking on other people's problems. "I'm not comfortable discussing my personal feelings right now."

Mental Boundaries: These protect your beliefs, opinions, and identity from being violated. Examples include not arguing about your values or not allowing others to belittle your thoughts and ideas. "I respect your opinion, but I disagree and prefer not to discuss this further."

(there is a lot of types but I focused on these 3)

How to set boundaries

Setting boundaries may take time and practice. Don't get down on yourself if it feels hard.

1. Identify what behaviors from others is acceptable for you, and what might cause discomfort

2. Clearly communicate your boundaries with others. Learn to say no and be assertive.

3. Decide what to do if someone breaks your boundaries. This may mean a tough discussion, taking time away, or ending a relationship.

4. Get clear on your values, needs, and limits. Reflect on what's most important to you and where you need to draw lines.

5. Start small if it's hard at first. Practice with something minor before bigger issues.

6. Use "I" statements to explain your boundary without blaming, like "I'm not comfortable with..."

7. Be direct, firm, and respectful when stating your boundary. Don't over-explain or get defensive.

8. You can't control others' reactions, but you can control how you respond. Calmly reinforce the boundary if needed.

9. Be consistent in upholding your boundaries. If you allow them to be crossed, they won't be taken seriously.

ıllı ⠀ : ⠀ Remember setting and maintaining boundaries is not about controlling others but about creating a space where respectful and healthy interactions can thrive. ❛ ⠀ ♡ ⠀ !!

© bloomzone

[aegoniiwifey]

Anon who requested the chubbydaddy!aegon and his daughter <3 you did my request justice and way more I'm obsessed- I literally reread it like ten times I love it. Also another chubbydaddy!aegon request: Aegon getting requests to court/ wed his precious girl, and he ignores them all, ignores what the Small Council wants, etc and goes to her after a long day, letting her ride his belly, then breeding, then cumplay, and whatever your genius mind comes up with <3

Wanna Be Yours

PAIRING: King!Aegon ii Targaryen x daughter!fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,944.

WARNINGS: incest, swearing, angst, breeding kink, praise kink, stomach riding, cum play, titty sucking, p in v sexual intercourse. indented parts are previous scenes.

A/N - I am so so sorry for responding so late, I took a little hiatus with tumblr and am starting to find my rhythm again. I absolutely adore this trope and your ideas. so happy you enjoyed the first piece, it was an absolute privilege to write! hope this is just what you imagined also xx

Apologies I have not reread this as I finished work and my eyes are about to shut! will proof read tomorrow ♥️

credit to my beloved BOOBIE @bnb-atnite for making this godly image of my man CHUBBY! ilysm!

"Your Grace, it is highly frowned upon by the Seven that you wed your daughter! We have given many exceptions to your ancestors for upholding their queer customs, but this- This arrangement we do not condone!"

Aegon's deep exhale as his eyes darkly snapped towards the elderly maester, was enough to silence the room with his palpable vehemence. He was beyond tired and irritated by the constant nagging of his esteemed Council, of their blatant disapproval of their King's intentions to wed his beloved... His only surviving blood, his daughter.

Throughout the war, Aegon had grown insatiably protective of you: in addition to having a special place in his heart as his eldest born, you remained the last remaining figure in his previous life, despite his mother and himself. As your grandmother silently fell into madness, in the privacy of her chambers, where she preferred to seclude herself, Aegon had no other person he soulfully cherished than you. And as he was to you, the feelings had become reciprocated. Your father loved you dearly: since becoming of age, a young, matured woman, his advances had grown more intimate and lubricious. You owed him your life, and wished nothing more than to devote yourself to him. No man could have done what he did for you...

"It is done, Maester Orwyle... I will wed my daughter in the ancient traditions of our House, if it be the last damned thing I do. I am the fucking King!" Aegon loudly asserted, slamming his pudgy hand against the solid, wooden tabletop, as his words simmered the Council into a fright.

Aegon was known for his temper, although it took a great deal for him to raise his voice: he was a stubborn man at that, also...

"My dearest, what is it? What have they done now that troubles you so, hmm?"

Aegon defeatedly relinquishes in the wooden rocking chair by the stoking fire: it’s orange-red tinged flames being the only source of light emitting in the room.

You walk up behind your father, his face stern and unmoving besides his closed eyes as his hand rubbed at his temples. Your hands find their way to his broad, thick shoulders, giving them a gentle massage as you knead the tension.

“So-So tense, my beloved. Tell me what is wrong, so that I may be of some help. Let me ease your mind, Daddy.”

Aegon’s shrugging shoulders said plentiful, as he opened his eyes once more, head turning slightly to its side so that you were in his peripheral vision.

“There is nothing to be sorted, my love. I am to wed you, and as their rightful King, it is my final word above all else. Those elderly cunts can yap all they want. I will have you.”

With his final word, a yearning flare brews between your thighs, aching for one particular thing. Your father always had a way with words, especially with you.

“Is that so?” You teasingly utter, as you straddle yourself comfortably on his lap. Your arms grip the overarching wooden frame of the chair as you swiftly lift yourself up, before plopping back down, although this time elevated by your father’s overgrown, rotund belly.

Your earliest, core memories of your father had always been admiring him at feasts and family dinners. He never denied himself a hearty meal, and his grand appetite never ceased during the war. Inevitably, as the years went by and his youth disappeared the weight remained and latched on with each mouthful. The intimate moments your attention would linger onto him, as he savoured each bite, the way he'd unashamedly lick the grease and crumbs off his chubby fingers, even off the rings that had fit him a time before... Now that he had sized up immensely, most treasures and clothes that he had worn, he had rapidly outgrown. None of his rings could go beyond the tips of his fingers, and he was in great denial about it, refusing to resize until you had convinced him otherwise. The way he had often rubbed his aching, bloated belly: swollen beneath the restricting fabric, a somewhat elevated and satisfied look strewed across his handsome, fat face as he would pat himself proudly.

"But I want Daddy all to myself. I want Daddy to fight the whole realm for me, if he has to. Can Daddy do that for me?" You utter closely into his hear, your hot breath dense against his earlobe: after hastily hiking your skirt up [wearing nothing below, as you instinctively anticipated this precise moment], you unbuttoned his top garment, only to expose his rotund, plush belly. The handful of rolls engulfing his sides, the grip-able hips that accentuated his width, streaked with raw, red stretch marks all across his love handles and lower belly. His tits were double your size, nipples sensitive under your gentle touch, even a flick of his nipple was enough to make him moan. It made you flustered, the sheer sight in evidence of your father's blatant growth... And he had no shame in admitting it.

"Of course, baby. Anything for my sweet, little princess. Daddy would burn the entire realm if he has to for you... I'll repopulate the world with my princess, if needs be."

With each of his longing words, you pressed yourself down deeper, sinking your bare cunt further against his naked belly, causing him to whimper. His pudgy hands found their way beneath your layered gown, each palm rested atop your cheeks, firmly cupping and squeezing at your flesh.

"My princess knows just what to do, to make her Daddy happy, huh? My only joy in life, is you."

Your grinding rhythmic, the pace begins to quicken with excitement, as your throbbing cunt becomes moist, the wetness stirring and oozing beneath, against the warm friction. As your cum coats his smooth fat, slowly it becomes more tolerable.

"I-I just wanna make m-my Daddy proud- D-Daddy can s-say whatever, a-and I'll do as I'm t-told-"

"Is that so?" His mimicking voice, a deep growl wretched from his throat, as his hands find their strength, shoving you deeper against his swallowing frame. He always admired how tiny you appeared in comparison to him, how fragile it made you look. He rejoiced it was a symbol of how he could protect you, that he was your shelter.

"Daddy wants to fuck Princess senseless, all night long. Fill my Princess up with my hot, hot seed until I'm certain she takes. Daddy wants Princess to swell with his child, and show her off to the realm. That the babe kicking in her belly, is all his undoing, hmm."

"A-Anything for Daddy- Just f-fuck me, Aeg-"

Although it drove Aegon wild to hear you mindlessly moan and whisper Daddy, something in particular, whenever you called him by his name, would often trigger something more insatiable in him. He could devour you in the spot, like some afternoon tea honey cake, whenever you spoke of his true name.

"Undo my pants-" Immediately without sparing a thought more, you obeyed. As Aegon's plump belly expanded over his thick, wide lap, his portly fat pad beneath had somewhat engulfed his cock. It made it difficult for him to even try to locate or masturbate himself. For now, you had both learnt tricks to overcome the obstacle, having your father lean in a certain angle, as you put in the effort to locate his fat, hard cock, plunging it deep between your walls.

As he tried to reposition himself with great difficulty, in the faint space left remaining in the seat with you atop: breathless by the end of all the moving, you managed to pluck out his cock. The sheer sight and tension beneath your gentle stroking grip, its reddened, blush tip oozing with a sheer-white, translucent reside, palpating with excitement.

"Don't keep Daddy waiting, Princess. I need to feel your walls take my cock. Make you so fucking full of me, I'll make you a human waterfall."

The raw feeling of his cock between your inner walls, clenching to adjust to its girthy, solid size: although it could no longer delve as deep as it used to, the friction of his fat pad against your clit, and the pressure of his mass against your lower stomach, made it invigorating nonetheless.

"Th-That's it, Princess. S-So tight for me. All fucking mine, and the w-whole world will know it-"

"Y-Yes, Daddy-"

"If I need to fuck you with the eyes of the Court watching, I will."

As means to muffle your moans and loud pleas for Aegon, bashfully mindful of the servants and Kingsguard stationed beyond the inches of the door outside, your mouth latched onto Aegon's porky tits.

Suckling at his tender flesh, as your tongue licked at his nipple, causing him to wince and growl in eager approval, one hand left your ass cheek, gripping close your bucking hips, and found its way snaking behind your back, before pulling at your loose hair.

Tightly tugging at the free strands, mottling between his pudgy fingers, he once more, gave gentle encouragement, shoving your face down deeper against his tubby chest.

"F-Fuck Y/N. S-So impressed by Daddy, huh, Princess? You keep going at this rate, I'll be making my own damn milk for you and the babes."

Noticing the glistening residue of your cum spilled across his rolls and paunchy stomach, his other hand cleaned the mess up over with his bare hand. Before hungrily licking off your wetness with his tongue, licking his hand clean free.

"Delicious."

With his heavy, dense weight keeping him pinned down against the chair, he made no effort to thrust himself inside as he once jovially could. Alternatively, the chair swayed with his potent motions, as he would subtly buck his ample hips forward into your frame.

"My sweet, beautiful girl is gonna cum already. I can feel you swallow my cock whole, your walls suffocating my cock. Take me, princess, take it all-"

With the finish of his words, signalling his epitome, Aegon shot his hot, fresh seed into you: warmly coating your inner walls, as your own wetness gushed over his eager, hard cock. Catching a minute to regain your breaths and thoughtless mind, you lifted yourself off, and instantly the mess began to pool across your inner thighs.

Almost on cue or from impressive instinct, Aegon began to scoop at your inner thighs, sensitive from his touch, its abrupt presence startled you.

"Did I not teach you about letting things go to waste, baby? Never let this out. This is as precious as Valyrian steel. I ought to keep you plugged up with my cock..."

The tips of his fat fingers tease at the entrance of your folds, softly tracing over your stained, painful walls: impressed with your sudden shiver and moan, his deep chuckle left you feeling reminiscent of your first time. How nervous you felt, inexperienced against your father's wit.

"I-I want this to take. I want to have as many babes as the Gods see fit with you, Aeg... I want to swell healthily with child, and give you the heir you want... As many as you desire-"

As one fo your hands remained nestled against his chest, tracing soft, random lines against the crevices of his rolls: the other travelled its way to his face, pushing aside a random strand of hair, away from his handsome, fuller face.

"I want our sons to be the spitting image of their father, and our daughter's kind like their grandmother... Will Daddy fuck me day and night, to make my wish come true, hmm?"

"Of course..."

credit for dividers - @/valeskafics

[potionpeddlerpatchy]

word count: 8.3K

paring: Bakugou x fReader

warning(s): oral(f! receiving), dirty talk, tit worship, slow soft sex that turns to rough sex, breeding, creampie. I think that's it, sex after a confession always leads to good fluffy sexy stuff.

authors note: well, this took longer than I was hoping for so I do hope it was worth the wait! I don't typically write Bakugou as I am never confident I can do him justice, but I do know how much everyone loves him (and I too find the dork just a lot of fun) - so to my Bakugou stans I hope I did good enough and I hope you all enjoy a surprisingly long fic of our favorite gremlin~🔮

You had meant to move about a month ago; you had gone through the whole process of finding the right apartment that fits your budget, was in a decent neighborhood, and was close enough to both yours and your friend's place of work. All that effort, months of it, was supposed to accumulate into one big celebratory day where you both moved all your things into your new home.

However, your family had other ideas. And thus, you were a helpless passenger flying between family members as they took their sweet time to say goodbye to you; unable to stop them from milking the melodramatics of your moving to a city so far away for who knows how long.

And your poor friend, who technically now was your roommate, had to move all her things by herself. To settle into a new place, routine, and life in a city also foreign to her, on her own. It was not the plan, but then again when did anything go according to plan for the pair of you? Despite her reassurance otherwise, you still felt awful about your false start.

But it wasn’t all bad. Your family gave you plenty of gifts to help kickstart your new adventure, items that would be more than helpful for living on your own and away from family and their abundance of resources. And your friend became quite friendly with the new neighbor.

Their meet-cute was something you missed while you were away visiting family. How he seemed to come to her rescue while she was struggling to get all her boxes up the four flights of stairs to the apartment - and of course, there was no elevator in the old building - how polite he was, how adamant that he help her out, how strong he was. All of it was something she gushed about to you on the phone that night, and you couldn’t help but giggle along with her.

Of course, it didn’t stop there. It seemed every day that led up to you finally moving into that place with your friend, she was on the phone with you talking about another encounter she had with the new neighbor. How he helped her bring her groceries up, helped her with building some of the new furniture sets you both bought, how he would come by to ensure she was okay - everything and anything. You knew basically all there was to know about the man before your friend even let you know his name.

Though you could understand why.

Kirishima Eijirou was a pro-hero after all, and despite being the friendliest one out there, he did want to uphold a semblance of privacy. It was only a few days before you moved in that you both found out his name and occupation; it was a bit of a surprise, but neither you or your roommate would blab about him to the media. After all, you were neighbors. If his privacy was to be infringed upon, yours would be too.

Besides, you didn't want to ruin the budding relationship that was forming between the two of them. If the media got involved, it would be ruined before it started.  So, you had no problem keeping your lips sealed tightly about it all.

You finally did meet Kirishima when you stumbled up the seemingly endless flights of stairs with your roommate, with the many boxes of your stuff. And you had to admit he was one of the sweetest, most infectiously friendly, men you had ever met in your life - and unlike your roommate, you took full advantage of the help he offered.

From there you got to enjoy the new bliss that was this adventure. Setting up your bedroom; adding decorations to the shared spaces; going grocery shopping for the foods you liked; and the overall fun you found, being in each other's company. This new routine was built of comfort, not the chaos you were previously used to; one you were happy to come home to. Though, that being said, you could never really find time to go out or socialize with your friend - at least not one-on-one anymore.

Kirishima was usually always there, greeting you with that same cheery smile whenever you emerged from your room in the morning to start your day. Whenever you came home from an errand or work, there he was on your couch cuddled up with your roommate. When you answered the door, there he was, greeting you with the same amiable demeanor.  You always returned the smile, always gave happy greetings back - again he was a nice guy - but after a few weeks of seeing him constantly, of becoming the (unwilling) third wheel to this honied new romance with your friend, it started to wear thin.

Bakugou could say the same.

All Kirishima could talk about was his new girlfriend. Bakugou couldn’t even begin to count the number of times he heard of their ‘chance encounter’ as if chance had anything to do with it - they lived next door. Their meeting each other was bound to happen, one way or another. And he couldn’t even begin to count the number of times the plans he made with his best friend were called off last minute for this girl.

It’s not like he wasn’t happy for Kirishima. He was glad to hear that after the hustle and grind that comes from their line of work, his best friend had finally started to date again. The pain caused by lack of privacy, and by lack of time to spend on romance or new relationships, in general, was no small thing. Bakugou knew that pain better than anyone… but this borderline obsessive, lurid behaviour Kirishima had towards his newfound relationship was starting to rub him the wrong way - the puppy love of it all made Bakugou want to gag.

And his best friend's new girlfriend had the worst roommate - bar none.

Bakugou could recall the awful encounter vividly. It was a Friday afternoon. He was on his way to start his evening patrol, walking over to Kirishima’s place as the redhead was to join him. But of course, Kirishima was not there, or at least he was not answering the door. After minutes of pounding and yelling, Bakugou figured the bastard was where he always was, at his girlfriend’s place. Stomping his way over, he barely had a chance to properly knock on the door before you swung it open - the look of utter annoyance and anger in your eyes as you looked up at him was something he would never forget.

“He’s not here.” That was all you said before slamming the door in his face.

Bakugou was never before left so stunned or speechless, at least not by an every day, quirkless, person, and he didn’t like it if the intentional stomping of his heavy boots and the huffing chest was anything to go by. Both Kirishima and his girlfriend got an earful about it when he finally managed to find them.

And to make matters worse, the next time he was to hang out at Kirishima’s place - to relax and unwind with a boy's night out - you were there. What was supposed to be a night getting drinks and letting go of all the stresses of their job turned into a movie night in - as that is what his girlfriend and you had planned, and Kirishima, unsurprisingly, wanted to join - forgoing the original plan, as if it was nothing. Bakugou visibly fumed in the doorway as he debated whether or not to join - with Kirishima convincing him of the latter.

And there he was, sitting on the opposite side of the couch from you, as the large single-use chair he wanted to sit in was occupied by Kirishima and his girlfriend. Bakugou truly wondered if he could resent his friend more than he did at that moment as he stared blankly at the screen before him - not bothering to even pay attention to the movie he was so rudely coerced into seeing. 

As the night neared its end, though, so did the height of that resentment. He watched from the corner of his eye as you scooted yourself a little closer to him; eyes shy and unsure as you gazed at his profile - Bakugou couldn’t help but lift an eyebrow in interest, eyes shifting to you and making you pause your movements.

“I want to apologize for the other day…” your tone was begrudging, he remembered that, as you began to explain your horrible behaviour when you both first met. How you had the worst headache and couldn’t get out of work, and the noise he was making caused you to snap. Bakugou simply shrugged his shoulders in acknowledgment after you were done, but that was all before his eyes moved back to the screen; yours followed suit after another beat with a nod of your head.

You thought maybe he had ignored your apology, given the dismissive way he regarded it, and you could not fault him for that. Nor could you fault his attitude towards you and the situation he was in that night, it was clear he had not wanted to waste his time watching a stupid movie a random stranger had picked out - you certainly didn’t want to if you had the choice. So, you simply chalked it up to him having a rough day and not wanting to deal with you and your silly excuses for your shitty behaviour.

But after that day, whenever he would be looking for Kirishima, you could barely hear his gently rapping at your door or the heavy boots as they walked across the hallway - a far cry from your first encounter.

In fact, most of your interactions with Bakugou were a light year from the initial two you had with him. You knew who he was, it was hard to ignore when his face was almost always plastered in the news or on screens in the city, and given what you could tell he was a bit brutish - standoffish and quick to anger - very much like how he was when you first had the pleasure of meeting him. It was supposedly a part of his charm, but you found nothing charming about it, that was until you extended that olive branch with your apology. The way he spoke to you after that, the softer tone - one that was almost hushed - always surprised you; it almost didn’t fit who he was but somehow you still liked it. You knew he did it because he was worried he might aggravate you, and your possible headache, further but it was the courteousness that made you start to warm up to him.

And Bakugou could say the same. He didn’t want to admit it, but you were fairly sweet - always apologizing when you would have to tell him his friend wasn’t there and giving him a fairly wise suggestion on where they might be; your tone and demeanor soft, always catching him off guard; as every time he knocked on your door he was expecting an incensed tone. And your eyes… Bakugou had always expected them to look cruel, to have the sharp hue they previously had when he first gazed into them. He was always surprised by how gentle they were, looking up at him. They continuously ambushed and captivated him, and he couldn’t stand it. He hated how pretty they were.

And it all just got worse from there.

At least that was how Bakugou saw it at first. He knew you probably did too, given the exhausted, almost fed-up expression you’d share with him whenever the pair of you crossed paths once more, in some shape or form, by the lovestruck pair. 

“I suppose misery loves company, and evidently, we seem to be her favourite kind.” you would murmur to him, in a mirthful tone, with a shrug of your shoulders before diverging paths in a fruitless, and endless, search to find - and subsequently, make sense of, - those lovesick two you call your closest friends. It wasn’t long before you found yourselves being dragged along on all the errands and lunches they had planned; being a forced pair to endure and join in on an afternoon or evening out for whatever they had planned.

“I don’t understand, why do they feel the need to invite us?” You would ask him, voice hushed as you both would walk a few steps behind them to avoid any ire from your complaining.

“As if I would know.” Bakugou scoffed, his ever-present scowl being turned in your direction “Not like I want to spend my free time here being a third party to their lovely bullshit.”

“Fourth party, I was here first” Your quick response would make his scowl soften, as you would smirk up at him; though it was only ever briefly as his gaze always made you shy “Maybe that’s why…”

“Why what?”

“Why they drag us along.” 

“Care to explain?” Bakugou asked, eyebrows furrowing as he regarded your shrugging shoulders.

“You haven’t figured it out? And here I thought you were smart!” 

“You fucking brat.” Bakugou couldn’t help but playfully shove you away, a smile forming on his face as your soft giggles filled the air as you stumbled about to try and regain your footing “Come on, out with it.”

“I think the reason….” You began, trying to keep your voice down once more to avoid suspicion. “I think the reason they drag us along is that they feel bad. It sucks when you're alone around a couple, but it's more tolerable when there is someone else in the same shoes as you.”

“I mean, yeah sure… but why not just leave us alone? Why invite us in the first place?” he asked, eyes fixated on the couple ahead of him as they started to make their way into a popular café; the destination of this trip. 

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“I guess, misery loves company. And we’re her favourite kind of company” Bakugou shrugged in a manner that was mimicking you.

“Oh, so you do listen to what I say!” You mocked, as you began to walk across the threshold of the café through the door Bakugou had opened “And here I thought nothing I said got through that thick skull of yours.”

Your giggles filled the air again as you felt his hand push at your shoulder causing your feet, and stride, to stumble as you tried once more to regain your balance - his herculean body shoving you away effectively stopping you from entering the café. The adrenaline rush of falling made your laughter even louder when you landed on the pavement; whether you were injured you couldn’t tell, you were too preoccupied at laughing at the man who had now closed to café door on you, watching through the glass as he muttered, with a smile, that you were a ‘fucking brat’.

~

Double dates, would be the most appropriate word for what followed, but you were always hushed and told differently when you would bring that word into play.

“I just want to see you get out of the house, to have some fun!” is what your roommate would defend with each time you griped and groaned at her for being forced into another ‘activity’

“You know, it would be nicer if it was just the two of us,” You’d shoot back, eyes glued to whatever task you were currently doing, knowing her puppy eyes were a weakness of yours. “Kirishima doesn’t always have to be there.”

“But he’s always so busy with his work!” She would pout, using that to her advantage as well, “It’s the only time I get with him! Please? You know how hard it is to find time with the both of you! Can’t you just come along, this will be the last time, I promise!”

She always said that. Always promised that this would be the last time you would be dragged along on another ‘outing’ that they had planned; last time she - they - would combine the need to hang out with a friend and go on a date. You would always sigh and agree to join, despite knowing the truth of the matter at hand, because…. well, she was right. Trying to find time to spare for both your social and romantic lives was difficult when you had to spend most of your time working so you could stay financially afloat.

Besides, you always had company. And Bakugou was slowly starting to prove to be your favourite kind of company.

He made being dragged along from event to event more tolerable. Whether that be having to help pick apples in a local orchard, or having to be a part of the standard photoshoot which followed, Bakugou made everything bearable. You couldn’t help but enjoy his snapbacks at Kirishima when being told to look or pose a certain way. His pained smile in every photo taken made you laugh so hard you could barely breathe.

Hiking and going to Farmer’s markets were tolerable too; you weren’t surprised that Bakugou was good at going uphill in uneven terrain; he was a prohero after all. But you were surprised, and grateful, at how good of a guide he was - always taking the lead so he could warn you of any possibilities to get hurt; lending a hand when needed without any sort of ire or condescension. And Sunday morning market runs turned into less of a chore when being guided to the best stalls, having someone hand pick the best items there, and having them use their fame to get you the best prices.

Traversing the many museums your roommate wanted to go to became quite the respite. Though you were perfectly fine splitting from the lovebirds and exploring on your own, it was nice to have a presence beside you; and you couldn’t deny how surprised you were whenever Bokugou would share with you a fact he knew about many of the exhibits you crossed.

And of course, traveling miles to see the country's largest aquarium was a real treat; one you suspected was a way for your roommate to apologize for always being dragged along to do the things she wanted to do. How you clung to her arm the whole time and dragged her (and the party) excitedly along to each giant tank to point out every marine animal that was housed there - rambling on and on about all you knew. And Bakugou, though he would tease that you were acting like a child, enjoyed seeing the way your face lit up again and again as you rambled on without a care; grateful you were never looking his direction, not knowing if he could live with the embarrassment of you seeing him look at you so softly.

Despite the forced proximity, you found a lot of enjoyment in spending your free time with that hotheaded man. And Bakugou could only agree that you made all these pointless so-called adventures convivial and worth giving interest to.

And those movie nights? The ones which were originally the bane of Bakugou’s existence? He found himself enjoying them the longer he stayed in your semi-forced company. He liked your commentary. He wanted to hear the little facts and details you’d point out as you mumbled into the popcorn you were trying to eat. He especially liked all the quick and smart jokes you would make on the more terrible movies that were chosen, knowing that his evening would actually be entertaining rather than tremendously painful to sit through. Over time, he longed to have you sit closer to him, to have you move from where you always sat at the other end of the plush couch to be right by his side. He yearned to feel your warmth against him, to hear what your whispers would sound like in his ear.

It was right where you belonged. That’s what he thought every time you would lean closer to him in some form or another; whether it was to move out of others' way, or to inform him of whatever thought crossed your mind. It’s where he wanted you to be.

Bakugou didn’t want to admit it, but he knew there was no way to deny it or try and convince himself otherwise, that he was starting to fall in love - or at least as close to love as he had ever experienced before - with you; that what started as him resentfully having to be around you morphed into something he was excited for; something he genuinely longed for.

But of course, his luck in romance was never as strong as it was everywhere else. And that unluckiness took, in this case, the form of his other prohero friends.

It was at the New Year's Party that they all held every year, a small get-together of close friends to celebrate another year together, and this year was Bakugou’s turn to host. And of course, Kirishima was going to bring his girlfriend; everyone was super excited after all to meet her. And Bakugou was hoping, though he would never admit it or ask, that you would be there too.

He couldn’t help the way his eyes lit up when you saw your figure enter his apartment, following behind the couple you came with; as you exclaimed a “Happy New Year!” towards him and the group your eyes were greeted with.

And he couldn’t help the way he bit his lip as his eyes raked over your figure. The outfit you were in, though it was cute - and in line with how you normally dressed - was a little more risque than normal; and he couldn’t help but wonder, all the blood in his body turning hot over the thought of, if you did it for him.

But things started to fall apart when Kaminari and Sero introduced themselves. You spent the whole night giggling and joking with them as if they were old friends. It was something that took Bakugou months to achieve, and yet, somehow, the pair managed to coax all of that out of you so easily. And your attitude, your presentation, was so unlike how you were with him. You were more demure than Bakugou had ever before witnessed. He’d never seen you act so shy, all bashful and blushing. It made his heart hurt and his blood to boil in anger as he watched it all, his whole night ruined by seemingly harmless interactions.

After that, both men started joining you whenever there was an outing - suddenly tables at restaurants were seating six instead of four. And his beloved movie nights, the one time and the chance he had you to himself - to be the only one so close to you -  were infiltrated with two extra bodies that sandwiched themselves between him and you.

He hated how endearing, and appealing, they were; and how it was working on you so effectively. Bakugou wasn’t a stranger to their lovable personalities - they were his closest friends for a reason. It was just, he wanted nothing more than to be the one to make you smile like that, to make and hear you giggle that obnoxious but cute giggle, to tuck your hair behind your ear and have you be unable to look him in the eye after, to have you fall asleep against him whenever the movie nights ran too long. All of it, he wanted to do all of it with you.

But he figured, maybe, he wasn’t the right man. 

Perhaps you were looking for someone more like Kaminari, who was spontaneous, adventurous, and fun-loving; who would take you on endless surprise dates, and have you guess on where it might be - always having it end up being the most fun you ever had. Someone to continuously, unabashedly fawn over you, and make you laugh at the dumbest things.

Or, maybe someone like Sero, who was so effortlessly charming no matter what he did. A partner who can make you both smile so brightly and have a blush burning your cheeks with one simple word. Someone who could make you feel like the most special person in the world with just a touch, who could pull you into a dance at just the right moment. 

Why would you ever want him? The loud, angry, brutish hero everyone saw him as?

Bakugou started to pull away. To slowly stop being a part of the so-called ‘outings’, or helping with errands, or coming by on movie nights. He began to focus all his attention back on his hero work like he did before he met you, to divert all of his time, energy, and focus back on his goal of becoming the best hero he could be, to attempt to erase you and the thoughts of domestic content out of his mind. To try and avoid you at all costs, to spare him the heartbreak you inadvertently caused whenever he looked at you. 

But he couldn’t avoid it forever - he knew that - the inevitability that he would need Kirishima, and subsequently have to go on a hunt to find him was always looming in the back of his mind; how it would ultimately lead to you. Bakugou knew the day would come, and it did, it just took longer than expected. He needed to ask Kirishima if he could cover a patrol shift for a hero who called in sick; and though Bakugou would take it in a heartbeat if he could, to avoid the possibility of you, he was off-field duty until he finished the mountains of paperwork from his last mission  - and he ran out of options.

He walked up to your door, that familiar off-white he had grown used to seeing, and made sure to rapt as gently as he could - like he always had - for your sake, as he waited for an answer; his breath caught in his throat, almost suffocating on the air from the awkward nerves that consumed him which came from showing his face after so long.

“Please don’t let her answer, please not her, please….” he pleaded like a mantra in his mind, but of course it was you, answering the door and greeting him with your usually soft surprise and beautiful eyes.

“Hi stranger, you just missed him.” You mumbled out, body leaning onto the open door you were half hiding behind “He left in a hurry, something about going on patrol to fill for another hero or…. Yeah”

There was a pause, and Bakugou knew you left it for him; knew that you wanted him to say something like a ‘thank you’ or ‘see you later’ or an acknowledgment of his lack of presence, lately. Instead, he began to turn away from you, unable to say anything, or be confronted any longer by your wide, sad eyes. 

“It’s been a while… “ You mumbled, starting the conversation again, not wanting him to leave, “You know… since I last saw you.”

“Yeah, been busy.” Bakugou shrugged, trying to play nonchalant, as he stepped away from your door.

“W-well-!” You blurted, your loud tone startling not only you but Bakugou, causing your head to bow sheepishly  “I-if you’re not busy or anything…. would you, um, like to come and join me for a movie?”

“A movie?” Bakugou asked, a smile briefly twitching on his lips over your behavior and invitation.

“Well, yeah. It’s Friday and normally everyone is either here or at Kiri’s for our usual movie night, but tonight it’s just me. And… and…. I-I’m really hoping you’ll join me…”

You were fiddling with your fingers, a nervous habit you had when you were unsure of something, or wanted something you didn’t know if the other person would want too. And how was Bakugou supposed to say no to that?

“What movie?” He grumbled, trying his best not to be affected by the bright smile that overtook your face as he further pushed through your door to enter your apartment.

“I-I haven’t picked yet, don’t really know what kind of mood I’m in, ya know? You, um, can choose what you like!” The last bit of your sentence was harder to hear as you went into the kitchen to get some more snacks and another drink for your newfound company.

“Where is everyone?” Bakugou asked, plopping down on your couch, as he began to fuss with your remote, and its less-than-responsive connection to your TV, to boot up your streaming service.

“Well… my roomie is out of town to visit her family; it’s her mom’s birthday.” You gave a smile as you began to set the items in your down on your small coffee table.

“What about Sero and Kaminari?”

You paused your motions for a brief moment, not expecting them to be brought up before you shrugged “I’m not sure, I haven’t really seen them much lately either - probably scared them off, you know how I get some days.”

“You’re not that bad.” Bakugou scoffs, trying his best not to be affected by your mirthful smile “What kind of movie do you want? Good or bad?” 

“Uh… a bad one. It's been a tough week and I could use a laugh” You smiled before settling in on the couch beside him and handing him a drink; a bowl of popcorn nestled in your lap.

The silence settled over you both as the movie began to play; the sounds of its action and dialogue broken only by whenever you decided to share some of your commentary on the plot, and tell your jokes, varying degrees of laughs over it all. Before long, Bakugou couldn’t help but join in; as if the month spent apart never happened, and you both fell back into that blissful comfort you had built up, enjoyed, and so grieved in its absence. 

“I missed you.” You whispered out as the movie’s credits began to wash over the screen; it was so faint, yet Bakugou heard it like thunder in his ears, as his bewildered eyes fell on you.

“What?”

“I missed you. Things aren’t really the same, or as fun without you around…” You mumbled a little louder, unable to bring yourself to look at him during your confession; the silence returned, falling upon you, much like the night you first apologized to him - it crushed and consumed you as it did then, causing you to change the subject.

“You wanna watch another one?” You leaned forward to grab the remote, passing it over to him “Cause we can! You can put on one of your favourites, I know you’ve been trying to show some of them to me for a while.”

“Sure.” was all he could muster as he grabbed the control to play yet another movie. Trying his best to not be affected by the leaning of your body into his side once the opening scene began to play.

There was less talking this time, Bakugou knew it was because you were sheepish over your little confession, and his lack of response to it, and just wanted to hide. And he just didn’t know what to say, was never good at easing situations like these. Though after a while the silence became more palatable as you both gazed at the screen ahead. Though that tentative peace was disrupted when your arms snaked between his arm to encase it in a weird sort of hug.

“H-hey!” He didn’t mean to jump, or try and pull away at what you did, but he couldn’t help but be startled by it “What’s this all about, huh?”

“N-nothing, I’m sorry, I’ll just stop…” you began pulling away, and though you tried hard to mask it, the warble in your voice still came through.

“Don’t stop.” Bakugou spoke firmly, fully turning towards you and holding your shoulders to keep you in place so you could hide or run from him “Just tell me why you’re acting like this. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothings wrong!” You began, the tears in your eyes welling and blurring your vision “I just really really missed you, okay?”

“No, not okay! Why are you crying, I doubt you missed me so much over that.”

“I’m… I’m worried you don’t like me anymore… that I did something to make you hate me.”

“I’m not mad at you” Bakugou sighed, shoulders losing all tension as he gazes down at you “Or hate you. Just really busy with hero work right now.”

“That’s not true,” you sniffled, though the firmness in your voice and the stern look in your eyes as you gazed back at him, caused him to almost flinch “That’s not true, and you know it. Hero work didn’t make you suddenly get up and leave one day, didn’t make you just stop wanting to be around me, or talk to me. So, why did you?”

“Because… because… I… I just…” Bakugou began, trying to find the right words but unable to get his tongue to form any of them.

“Bakugou, please, just be honest with me!” You exclaimed, eyes pleading with him to just say anything, trying to push away from him in your anger, but to no avail; his grip on your shoulders just got stronger.

“I like you okay!” He finally managed to blurt out “But of course, you didn’t notice with stupid fucking Kanimari and Sero taking all of your goddamn time lately! And how they began hogging you, how was I supposed to react, huh? Was I supposed to be okay with them being so fucking friendly? To have them make you smile and laugh that stupid laugh yah have and make yah so fucking happy when that’s all I wanted to do! I like yah a lot, but I figured with all of this it meant you didn’t like me back, so I just fucking went away, okay?

“You’re such an idiot.” You whispered after an almost stunned pause, shaking your head as you gazed at him, watching as his chest rose and fell rapidly while he tried to regain his breath.

A giggle bubbled up your throat as you bit your lip to hide the smile crossing your face, eyes still glued to the clueless man in front of you; watching as his brows began to furrow even further in anger over your response. He never did get to voice a syllable of his anger before your lips pressed to his, your hands coming to cup the side of his face to pull him a little closer - a little deeper - into the kiss.

You pulled away far too quickly for Bakugou’s liking as his lips tried to follow yours; you giggled again at him, and he finally opened his eyes to look down at you, his smile mirroring your own when you whispered out “I like you too.”

This time, he kissed you, his smile could be felt against your lips at your confession; overjoyed that his feelings were actually reciprocated. It didn’t take long before the movie was forgotten over the mutual want, and need, to make up for the lost time. Bakugou quickly took control; tilting your head back, cradling your neck, and keeping you in place as he deepened the kiss - taking the lead and dominating it with a satisfied hum.

And how quickly those soft, sweet kisses, with little giggles and murmurs of sweet nothings in between when your lips parted, turned into something headier; heavier as the two of you grew louder. The smacking and sucking of lips as they continuously connected felt frantic as the minutes passed like nothing, saliva coating your chins as you both refused to part - to catch even one breath. Your hands wandered down his chest, pulling him by the soft cotton fabric of his t-shirt to hover over you as you shifted to lay fully down on the soft cushions.

The change in position is what finally snapped Bakugou back into reality, out of his spell your soft lips had lured him into, as he finally pulled away from the kiss; tugging your hair gently to stop you from trying to chase after another as he did his best to dull the burning ache in his lungs.

You weren’t making it easy for him though, arching your back to snuggly press your chest to his as you stared up at him with those lust-filled eyes, making his body grow hot and pants tighten as you begged him to “Please don’t stop.”

“You sure you wanna do that, beautiful?” He masked his shaky, broken, breath with a hum and he nudged his nose with yours. “Think you’re ready for all that?”

“Of course, I am.” Your bottom lip sticking out in a pout “More than ready! Please, Katsu?”

“You’ll be the death of me, you know that?” Bakugou sighs out, lips attacking yours once more as his hands move to hike up your legs so his knee can slide, and rest, between them.

The resulting gasp that leaves your lips when you feel his knee press up against your cunt is met with a chuckle as he begins to travel his hot kisses across your cheeks and down your neck; tongue lavishing the smooth skin he finds there, marring it with small nips and sucks as he calloused hands wandered underneath your sweater; your skin jumping at the newfound friction as he slowly began dragging the fabric upwards and off your body.

Your skin erupted in goosebumps when it met the cold air, though you really couldn’t mind when he followed suit, his gloriously chiseled chest - one you knew took years to build - was before your eyes and at your fingertips. Bakugou allowed you a moment to drink it all in, to get your fill, before nudging your curious hands away in favour of resuming the task at hand.

His lips trailed over your newly exposed, supple flesh, down the valley between your breasts, and inhaling the scent of your skin and his rough palms began to roll and squeeze at your mounds through the soft cotton bra you decorated them in.

It all felt so heavenly, and though your heart swelled at the fact, and thought, that he was willing to go slow for your sake, it just wasn’t enough for you, if the small whimpers and wiggling of your hips were any indication. You needed, craved, more of his touch.

“Katsu, please!” You finally whined, body too hot to lay comfortably still or endure this slow torment anymore. “Stop going so slow, I need more!”

Your complaint ended with a strangled cry as you felt his teeth sink harshly into your hardened nipple, the fabric doing nothing to dull the ache.

“Stop whining…” He grumbled out, voice low as his teeth tug once more at the abused bud, before letting it go “Been waiting a long time for this, and I’m gonna do it right, ya hear? So just lay back and let me do what I want.”

You merely let out a whimper and nod in response, his chuckle and mummer of ‘good girl’ going straight to your core and he continued his adoration of your chest; the latches of your bra finally slacking as he removed the only barrier between your sensitive skin and his warm breath. His lavishing turned more aggressive as he began to nibble, kiss, nip, and tug at the supple flesh - leaving his marks wherever he saw fit - with your moans and mewls spurring him on further.

“What did I say?” Bakugou growled, hands shoving your wiggling hips back down onto the couch.

“I can’t help it!” You sob, hands coming up to tug at his hair in frustration “Just wanna feel more of you, wanna feel you inside, please!”

“God, baby,” He groaned, head ducking down against your chest to try and regain the resolve he just lost; shaking his head after a moment, shushing you with a kiss before you could whine once more,  “Not yet… but promise I’ll make you feel good, give you want you want, okay?” 

Without another word, Bakugou swiftly pulled both your sweats and panties down your leg; baring your bottom half to him and the heady air of the room you were in, kissing one of your calves while settling your legs to sit comfortably on his shoulders. His thumb began tracing up and down your wet folds as he marveled at the sight.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby…” He whispered out, his other thumb joining to spread you open further, enjoying the way your thighs jumped as his hair tickled them as he leaned in close for a better look “So, so, pretty.”

He wasted no further time before confidently swiping his tongue up and down your glistening cunt; relishing in the broken moan you let out when his tongue began circling your clit; all restraint leaving him when your hands tugged at his hair as his lips finally wrapped around your little button, sucking mercilessly.

He was utterly filthy with the way he ravished your cunt, the amount of spit he gathered between his mouth and your pussy as he abused your poor clit with onslaughts of tongue flicking, was obscene as his slurping could be heard over everything else in the room as he tried to taste more of your sweet juices. He watched your pretty head thrash from side to side, and listened to you wail as he dragged his tongue up your fluttering hole, just to shove himself deep inside you.

You were losing your mind to the pleasure, your hips unable to stay still as your moans and cries of pleasure were released unabashedly like a mantra to the gods above; nails digging harshly into the pillows nearby and your lover's scalp as you tried desperately to ground yourself, to little avail, as you begged and whined for him to let you cum.

Your sounds were beautiful, and Bakugou couldn’t deny, they were certainly doing something to his ego, but they were also going straight to his cock, twitching and aching for you, uncontrollably. And if he wanted to avoid a noise complaint, and not cum in his pants like a teenager, he had to do something.

“Stop squirming!” Bakugou groaned, pinning your hips once again within his iron grip “Told you to stop it, you brat”

“M’sorry,” you hiccuped, thighs twitching and squirming over the need to gain some of the lost stimulation “I’m… M’just close, wanna cum.”

“You will, baby,” Bakugou hummed, arm stretching across your body to have his fingers tap at your lip “Open wide, and suck on these like a good girl, okay?”

You do so without a word. Lips part to accept two of his thick digits into your waiting mouth; tongue swirling almost instantly as you hollow your cheeks, he could feel the gentle vibrations of your moans when the pads of his fingers pressed down on your tongue.

“Such a good girl,” Bakugou groaned, the sight alone almost made him come undone, as he leaned back down to continue what you so rudely interrupted.

You did as you were told, sucking so diligently on Bakugou's fingers as he continued to push you over the edge; moaning, though muffled, was constant as you tried to maintain a rhythm. - afraid that he might stop again.

Not that Bakugou would. You were driving him wild, and now he wanted nothing more than to make you cum; first on his face, and then on his cock. Talking between breaths about how pretty your pussy is, how good you were, how he’s gonna stretch you open, all while fucking you with his tongue; his sucking and slurping filling the air in between his words. All this while trying to keep his composure from the sight of your debauched face messily sucking his fingers to keep quiet; feeling your drool run down his wrist. 

It didn’t take long. Bakugou’s words, sinful tongue, and moans against your cunt made your eyes roll to the back of your skull, causing you to let out a strangled cry as your toes curled and thighs twitched - doing their best to crush his head as he continued to slurp and suck your cunt; cleaning you up; hands pinching and squeezing at your hips to try to soothe your shaking body.

“You think you’re ready for more, babygirl?” Bakugou asked voice strained as his hands began frantically fumbling with his belt “Ready for me, baby?”

“Y-yes… ah-!” Your cry ended with a small whimper as you felt Bakugou slap the tip of his cock against your puffy clit

“You sure?” He teased, tone mocking your own as he slots his heavy cock between your folds; chuckling at the way your twitching little hole tries to suck him in “Want me to fuck you?”.

“Yes, please! I want you so bad, only want your cock, want it to fill me up, want it so bad, please!” 

“So fucking needy…” Bakugou cursed, slowly pushing his thick cock head into you, gritting his teeth at just how tight you were for him “But so fucking good.”

His hips meet yours with a snap, causing you to cry out as tears cling to your lashes; not used to the feeling of being so full. His hand, still wet with your drool, pinches your cheeks together slightly to force you to look back at him.

“Eyes on me, got it?” He commands, though gentle in tone, waiting for you to nod your head before pulling out to thrust into you again.

His pace is deliberate, thrusting into you slowly, deeply, hitting every spot that makes you see stars; your mind still a little hazy, and body still too sensitive from the most recent orgasm, as your muscles jump and twitch at every drag of his heavy cock as you cling to him. Moaning his name as your nails dig into his back, watery eyes doing their best to stay on him as your face heats in embarrassment and blood rushes to your ears; barely able to hear the groans that pass his bitten red lips.

Bakugou was relishing, savoring, the feeling of your walls clamping down on him, milking him as he watched those tears threaten to fall from your beautiful eyes as you gaze up at him; your hot breath mingling with his own as your lips brushed his with every heavy thrust in, tempting him to lean down to connect them fully.

As heavenly as it was; you need more, more, more.

“Katsuki, more please!” You sighed, pulling him into a brief kiss to entice him further. When your request was met without change; his pace still agonizingly slow, your lips formed that familiar pout. “Come on Katsu, faster! You said you would fuck me!”

“You want me to fuck you, hah?” Bakugou growled, sitting up to push your legs into your chest, not bothering to care that his nails were digging into your skin “I’ll fuck that pretty little cunt until you’re screaming my name until you’re begging me to cum inside you.”

Each of his words was emphasized by a rough thrust of his hips, each drag of his length against your inner walls so perfect, making your eyes flutter and threaten to shut from the intense pleasure. His muscles rippled from the increased speed as his hips met yours, again and again, making sure his pelvis bullied your clit with each forward motion; cock burying itself even deeper inside you and hitting that spongy spot in your aching cunt that made you gush - soaking his coarse pubic hair and making a mess of you both.

Your cries of his name and tears of pleasure were met with mocking whenever you wailed out that it was too much; his rough tone growled at you to, “take his cock, like the good little brat you are.”

“Yeah, you wanted harder, so you fucking take it.” He snarled, pushing your legs even closer to your chest; lifting you higher as his balls pressed firmly against the curve of your ass; cock buried inside you to the hilt as his tip kisses your cervix. “M’gonna fill you up with my cum, n’you’re gonna keep it all in this sloppy pussy, yeah?”

“Y-yeah…” You mumbled with a nod, eyes glossy as your walls twitch around him.

“Good fuckin girl.” 

His grip tightens as his pace picks up to an even more brutish one, heavy cock bullying its way into you to pound that spongy sweet spot to make you gush and squirm for him. He was so close and wanted nothing more than to feel you sweet cunt milk his cock for all it was worth.

Your eyes finally closed due to the surmounting pleasure and pressure in your core; eyes rolling back once more as your nails raked down his back, leaving angry, red lines in their wake, and causing Bakugou to hiss in pain and pleasure. Wailing out his name one final time before cumming, hard; whimpering in overstimulation of the final few thrusts it took before Bakugou finally filled you up.

The weight of Bakugou’s body was comforting as he lay atop you; peppering kisses along your chest and neck as you both tried to recover from such intense pleasure. You pulled his head from your neck to press your lips to his in a final, and much needed, sweet kiss.

“You okay?” Bakugou whispered, eyes scanning her face for any signs of pain or discomfort, singing in relief when you nodded your head.

“Sorry I made us miss the movie” You giggled breathlessly, turning your head to the TV and watching the credits scroll across the screen.

Bakugou smirks, grinding his hips against yours and making you gasp “We can miss another one if you want.”

[transmutationisms]

when you say “positive / negative right”, what do those mean?

thanks for the good posts :)

a negative right is a claim to protection from some sort of interference; a positive right is a claim that the other party has an obligation to act in some way beyond just refraining from causing harm. for example, the right to free speech is generally spoken about as a negative right: it guarantees me the freedom from state intervention into what i can say. a right to health, on the other hand, would be a positive claim that i should be guaranteed access to things like clean air and water, health care, sick leave, &c.

in practice this distinction is actually much messier than i'm making it sound, and most 'negative rights' are basically meaningless without positive interventions, except in the fantasyland of libertarian political discourse. for example, the united states prohibits one human being from enslaving another (a negative right to legal and bodily freedom) but simultaneously engages in, and permits, incarceration with & without forced and un(der)-compensated labour requirements. the state is not actually granting freedom, and slavery has only been outlawed on a very limited and technical basis. another example is the right to abortion, which, prior to the dobbs decision, was legal in the us on the basis of a 'right to privacy' as established in roe v wade—a freedom from specific interventions in one's medical decisions. however, for decades the actual right to abortion was eroded by the us's lack of universal health care and paid time off, and by laws that became progressively more restrictive in terms of when in a pregnancy abortions were allowed, what clinics had to do in order to be allowed to operate, and what requirements patients had to satisfy first (waiting periods, ultrasounds, &c). in practice this meant that fewer and fewer people could actually access abortion, despite having, technically, legal protection from government interference in its provision. even freedom of speech falls apart as a purely negative right, because, as i've said before, most enforcement of speech limitations actually happens via economic mechanisms like the threat of losing your job—meaning, the operative issue here is not usually whether the state can directly censor me but whether i risk starving to death if a corporation disliked what i said. in other words, what makes my speech vulnerable is the fact that i live in a society that does not guarantee me food, shelter, and basic necessities as positive rights.

negative rights appeal to liberals and other reactionaries because they're framed as maximising everybody's freedom: your actions are only constrained if they risk impinging on me. however, in actuality what this means is that a right defended on 'negative' grounds is basically incapable of redressing existing social and political inequities, and instead upholds or even exacerbates the power dynamics already in effect. i am actually not a huge fan of 'rights' as a legal framework period, and i think a well-defended 'positive right' is really moving beyond the construal of 'rights' and into a more materialist and socially contextualist framework, but that's a different post.

[indornaga]

Hey, Lets Talk About Therian Gatekeeping.

If you've ever seen my work, you know that I'm a very inclusionist therian. People & creatures who have read my work or been to one of my presentations of Therian: Dispelling the Earthen Animal Myth have been very receptive of the information and have passed it on to others in the community that havent been so fortunate as to have experienced and learned along side me. There's still a lot of work to be done in this venture, and every person & creature who shares it is a crucial part of history.

So why does the "therian = earthen animal" belief exist and persist? My favorite theory is that there's a pervasive need to be seen as legitimate. Fictional and mythical animals arent seen as real, in their therian-worldview. Not real enough for exclusionists, and that theory is constantly reinforced by exclusionists who insist that inclusionists are the ones trying to rewrite the term's history.

Let me show you what I mean.

Here's a link to where I got this screenshot. Please note the date in the upper right hand corner of the screenshot. For context, this is from a thread on the community's originating website, Alt.Horror.WereWolves. This is the thread that originates our current usage of Therian/thrope/y. (The censored info is the members' real names. You can see them uncensored at the link, unfortunately. I've censored them here for privacy.)

As I see it, therianthropy applies to *any* human/animal form, regardless of history, powers, or other attributes.

The original defining discussion thread of therianthropy includes "any human/animal form". Gatekeepers are the ones in the wrong here.

There's an argument amongst exclusionists, "if therianthropy can extend to include non-earthen animals, what's the point of therianthropy as a concept?" For those who arent aware, although therianthropy and otherkinity significantly overlap in their experiences and the way those experiences are described, the two communities developed separately, with overlap in experience and terms used, depending on which of the two a member found first. It's so deeply ingrained in these exclusionists that therians can only be real animals, that they choose a narrow inclusion or non-existence.

On top of this, it's incredibly disturbing that these people & creatures are encouraging revisionist history by completely denying original, first hand sources that tell them they're wrong. They delete messages that inclusionists reply with, giving them these primary sources. So I'm here showing you the truth.

If you've been led to believe, threatened even, that you're "not a real therian" if you believe therians can be non-earthen animals, then I'm here holding your paw, telling you that your inclusion in a term/experience doesnt hinge on how well you uphold the standards of a few.

If you would like more reading about this, I have a whole essay, linked at the beginning of the post, with dozens of citations to primary sources about this issue. If you agree that "therian = earthen animal only", I challenge you to read the essay. Read and really analyze the sources linked there. Engage with your history in it's purest form, not from others telling you things. Learning and expanding your worldview is the most powerful way to grow as a person.

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part eight.

The thing is, you pride yourself on being stubborn.

Your parents hated it━ loathed that you wouldn’t give in when they demanded you find some other career path, something stable like finance or business. They hated that you moved out instead of submitting to their whims, and you imagine they hated even more that you declined every call and never answered any of the messages they sent for months afterwards until they gave up.

You’ll be the first to admit that it’s not a particularly marketable trait, nor is it very favorable in the eyes of others. It pisses people off more than anything, especially when they badger and push and prod and all you do is stand your ground. An old boss early into your career once nearly burst a blood vessel when you resolutely refused to take pictures at a private event━ threw a fit when you stuck by your morals to uphold the privacy of the athletes involved. But it’s a feature of who you are and it’s managed to save your ass more times than you can count.

Nonetheless, you also know that there’s a time when you have to swallow your pride and give in. Garrett and his threats to your career had been one of those times. A teacher in primary school and an argument about an uncompleted assignment had been another.

The situation with Lando, however, is not.

And just because Oscar is weirdly perceptive and creepily wise for his young age doesn’t mean you’re about to change things.

Why should you be the one to talk to Lando? Why should you reach out first to clear up the misunderstanding? He’s the one who misunderstood in the first place, and he’s the one that blew up without ever even thinking to give you a chance to explain what was actually happening.

If Lando wants you to talk to him again, then he’ll have to suck it up and apologize to you first. It’s the least he could do after implying the whole world thinks you’re a slut. It’s his fault you two aren’t talking in the first place, and the fact that he has the audacity to think you’ll just lay down and take it? That you’ll hear everything he had to say and just be fine with it?

Just thinking about it has you gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles the entire ride back to your flat.

This isn’t the first time the two of you have fought. It’s not even the first time Lando has been the one in the wrong. Beyond the disagreements the initial tension had caused in 2019, your worst spat was in 2021, following his crash at Spa during the qualifications for the Belgian Grand Prix.

The crash itself wasn’t the problem. You’d never get upset at someone for something out of their control, and Lando had hydroplaned because of track conditions and nothing else. But he’d been so nonchalant about it all, brushing off the medical staff with an “I’m fine,” and a “nothing’s wrong.” That, in and of itself, is not uncommon among Formule One drivers or even athletes in general. A lot of them disregard their own bodily limits and the damage they take if it means getting to do what they love, and Lando isn’t any different.

He’d had bruises all along his chest from his seatbelt and had needed to get a precautionary X-ray taken, but there hadn’t really been anything wrong. Even still, you’d fluttered about asking if he was okay, asking if medical had anything to say, asking if he thought he’d be well enough to race on Sunday. You’d understood that he’d probably been asked those same questions a few dozen times already in that hour alone, but he’d scoffed at your worry and told you to leave him alone.

So you did, after scoffing right back at him and snapping that you were just concerned and he didn’t need to be a bellend about it.

You’d ignored him for the rest of the weekend and stuck close to Daniel. Lando had had to corner you on the plane to finally apologize, and you’d jumped right back into the swing of things afterwards, laughing and joking around like none of it had ever happened.

That short fight seems like a cake walk in comparison to what’s happening now.

Deep down, there’s a desperate need for it all to go back to how it was before the winter off-season━ back when you and Lando would get drunk in each other’s hotel rooms on cheap wine while watching shitty reality TV, when you and Lando would make up stupid games in the airport waiting for your flights, when you and Lando would gossip like a couple of school girls about all the messy drama on the grid and around the factory.

But without Oscar’s infuriatingly mature outlook on everything, and his stupidly healthy way of perceiving relationships and the people involved in them, that same desperate need to have Lando in your life is buried down beneath your rekindled anger and a very justified pettiness.

Your flat is cold, dark, and empty when you push the door open. The sound of your keys clattering against the counter when you toss them echoes, as does the thud of your bag as you let it fall to the floor by your shoes.

You need to eat, shower, and sleep━ preferably in that order━ but when you open the fridge you divert your path from the tupperware of leftovers and reach for the pack of beers you never got around to finishing awhile ago.

Lando brought it around and you’ve never been much of a beer drinker, but he’d insisted you try it, so you had. The bitterness had clung to the inside of your mouth and you only made it halfway through your first bottle before handing it off for him to finish it for you. The rest of the pack had been allocated to your fridge for when he came over next, but that had never happened.

The fact that it’s beer is annoying enough, and the fact that it’s Lando’s beer pisses you off even more, but this is one of those moments where you have to push your stubbornness aside because you don’t have anything else and all you really want to do is get drunk and watch sad movies on your couch to forget about how upsetting your own life is at present.

You can’t cry over Lando if you’re already too busy crying over a fictional character.

It’s not particularly healthy, and you can imagine Oscar with his creepy omnipotence giving you a look for it, but you don’t really have the energy within you to bring yourself to care and Oscar isn’t actually there to judge you for it anyway.

The first half of February carries on similarly. You don’t get drunk every night, but you don’t talk to Lando either and Oscar’s heaving sighs and blatant exasperation whenever he third-wheels the frigidity between you and his teammate is explanation enough to what his opinion is on your choices.

But you’re standing firm.

It doesn’t matter that your phone sits heavy in the pocket of your trousers, searing into you like a hot coal with the knowledge of how easy it would be to just make a few swipes, press a few buttons, and end this whole thing━ to give in first.

The reality is that Lando did something shitty and you aren’t going to give him the impression that he has the ability to do similar shitty things in the future and get away with them.

So you cling to your hurt and your stubbornness, and you use every mildly annoying and slightly frustrating thing to keep the flame fueled within you.

Garrett helps, too.

You’re in Woking now, which is just over three and a half hours away from Manchester. Between the distance, your new schedule packed full with preparations for testing in Bahrain and the start of the season, and Garrett’s busier schedule with the resumption of the Champions League, neither of you have been able to find the time to be able to meet up for another staged date.

And it’s making Garrett fidgety. He wants results and he wants them now. Footballers always seem to have an inability to be patient, probably comes with the fact that they’re always on the move in one way or another, and this━ his reputation━ is no exception.

He sent you a bouquet of flowers for Valentine’s Day, which you posted on your story with a sickening amount of heart emojis, and you’d both made disgustingly sappy Instagram posts about the day and how hard it was to be apart for the sake of maintaining the illusion of being smitten with one another in your fledgling romance.

Since then, he’s been hounding you about when you’re free and reminding you rather unkindly about just what he’ll do if you even think about using your schedule to get out of the agreement the two of you have.

He doesn’t seem to understand that you’re contractually obligated to travel the country for the next ten months, and even if you wanted to spend time with him and pretend to be his perfect little girlfriend, you can’t.

It makes your mood even worse, and when you accidentally snap at a poor intern who’s only crime was asking you the same question twice, you decide you have to do something.

“Y/N!” Jack’s voice crackles over the phone, and the way he says your name alone━ the excitement and seemingly genuine joy laced in his accent━ makes you smile. “I thought you’d forgotten about me already.”

Much like Garrett, it’s been hard to stay in touch with Jack as well. Not as hard, because at least you like Jack and it makes it that much more motivating to put in the effort to reach out even when you’re exhausted from a day’s work and faced with hundreds of images you still need to sort through and edit, but still hard.

You message occasionally about the big things. He knows you leave for Bahrain in a few days to begin set up for pre-season testing, and you know that he got “White Girl Wasted” in Copenhagen after the team’s win. He also knows, from the few times you’ve called him tipsy and crying, anything and everything about the fiasco with Lando and just how deep it goes.

“As if I could possibly forget you, what with your amazing DJ skills,” you tease back, a bit self-consious of how your voice carries in the otherwise silent bathroom.

Jack laughs, deep and hearty. “Right. I’m a proper expert now, the lessons are paying off.”

“So what I’m hearing is now I’ll have to book you in advance to make sure you can play at my birthday party?” You dig the toe of your shoe against the tiled floor.

He hums, pretending to think on it. You can almost imagine how his face looks, eyebrows scrunched up and lips pursed to stop himself from smiling, like he’s having some intensely philosophical internal debate with himself. “You know,” he says after a moment of contemplation, “as a VIP customer, I think I can squeeze you in.” You can hear the grin in his voice. “But really, me and the lads all miss having you ‘round. I imagine a lot of them don’t like coming in anymore when they ain’t got a pretty face to look forward to.”

“Grealo, you flatterer,” you laugh. “I thought we agreed it was your job now to be the pretty face? You’ve got the cheekbones for it. And the hair.”

He heaves a dramatic sigh. “The lads just don’t appreciate me like you do.”

“Figures,” you murmur in mock commiseration.

Jack chuckles again and then clears his throat. “But real talk, though. What’s going on?”

You gnaw on your lip, worrying it between your teeth for a few seconds of baited silence before it’s your turn to heave a very real and very stress-induced sigh. “I don’t know,” you start, “I’m just stressed outta my mind and I can’t really talk about it with the people here, which makes it worse. I snapped at an intern and then lied to her about why I was stressed which made me feel doubly as bad.”

“Not fun,” Jack replies.

“Not fun at all.”

“What’s got you so stressed?”

“Everything,” you groan. “Garrett won’t leave me alone about trying to schedule another outting, but I can’t just leave and spend the day in Manchester with him on a whim. The factory is really hectic with everyone getting ready to go, and I’m included in that. But he seems to think I’m doing it on purpose, just to spite him, and if I wasn’t genuinely swamped with work then maybe but that’s not the case this time and he just won’t listen.”

You run your hand down your face, pinching at the bridge of your nose to try and alleviate the ache behind your eyes.

“He’s threatening me again, and I’m trying to explain to him what’s going on, but he’s a prick as you know so of course he isn’t listening. And on top of that,” you squeeze your eyes shut, “Lando’s still ignoring me. And because Lando won’t talk to me, Oscar thinks I should talk to him, except I still don’t think it’s too much to ask for a simple apology.”

Jack hums. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, sounds like.”

“Yeah,” you grumble. “Tell me about it.”

“I think, that you shouldn’t have to talk with Lando until he apologizes. Outside of work, at least,” he starts. “What he did, what he said, hurt you a lot and you’re entitled to that hurt. And if this Oscar guy keeps pushing you to talk when you obviously aren’t ready and don’t want to, then he doesn’t sound as wise as you said he was.”

You make a noise. “No, he’s like freakishly wise, Jack. Sometimes it makes me wonder if I’m doing the right thing by sticking to this. I’m like, if he, of all people, is telling me I should talk with Lando, then maybe I should. Except I’m not. Because I’m pissed off.”

“And you’re entitled to being pissed off,” he says.

“It’s just messy,” you whine. “And I hate messy when it’s my life and not pretty people on TV or random logistical folks from the offices that I don’t know the names of because they never actually go to races.”

Jack hums again, “I feel you there. You just gotta take it one at a time, yeah? One foot in front of the other, and all that.”

“You got that from Rudolph,” you snort.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “and he’s a reindeer with a glowing nose and that’s pretty fucking cool so sue me if I pick the lad as one of my inspirations.”

You really do miss Jack. If Oscar plays the role of your little brother, then Jack takes the spot of the older one. His laughter is warm and friendly, familiar in the way that feels like coming home after a long day of work. From the day you walked in and found him waiting for you in your office, he’s always looked out for you.

Back at Etihad Campus, whenever the guys were telling stories, he’d always be sure to elaborate and explain who everyone and what everything is so you could feel included in it all. He was the first to take the plunge and invite you out the group dinners and hangouts, including you with the boys even when he didn’t really need to. You were a temporary addition to their team, and not even all that important, but he’d taken you under his wing and seemingly made it his mission to make you feel wanted.

He always just seems to know what to do.

“What do I do, Jack?”

“Well,” he drawls out, “with Garrett, I think you just gotta lay it out for him. Show him a screenshot of your crazy full calendar if you have to. He’ll listen eventually, you just gotta smack it into him sometimes. As for Lando…”

Jack sighs, “I think you’ve got two options here. You either keep waiting it out and hope he realizes how much of a total fucking muppet he’s being and apologizes, or you take the first step and start the convo.”

“What happened to making him jealous using Garrett?”

He makes a noise. “I don’t think you ever really wanted to make him jealous.”

“You’re right,” you mumble. You pull at a loose thread on your shirt. “Is it stupid that I think I’m still in love with him even after all this?”

“No,” Jack says. “I think if you weren’t still in love with him then you probably weren’t in love to begin with. It makes us do crazy things, things that hurt us sometimes.”

You both fall into silence.

“I wish I could go back in time and never even answer Garrett’s call,” you huff, hoping it hides how your voice cracks with emotion.

“I know you’ve already said it’d be too risky, but if you wanted to break things off with him, me and some of the other lads are all still willing to stand up for you if he tries to start any rumors,” Jack answers.

You shake your head, not caring that he can’t even see it. “It’s been too long now. If he comes out with some misconduct rumor he could just as easily make something up about the times me and him spent alone on our dates. Not to mention, with the way my comments and inbox was flooded with death threats just because I started dating him, I don’t want to imagine how bad it’d be if he purposefully weaponized his fans against me.”

You take a deep breath, “Even if my career somehow managed to survive, I don’t think I would.”

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).

━━ a/n: i have not gotten around to editing this, so i do sincerely apologize if there are any mistakes. it's nearly 5AM and i pulled a crazy amount of consecutive all-nighters while keeping up with the pre-season testing, so my brain isn't functioning as well as it probably should be, and that's also why it took me a little longer than normal to get this out. i'm running on four hours of sleep from last night and my hopes and dreams! so, alas, if there are any grammatical errors, that's why. anyways, i hope you enjoy! i'm very excited to begin working on the next part~

[berylcups]

Could you do a LA Squadra x reader (separate or together) hcs or short fiction where reader is friends with Bruno's squad and actively hang out with them on their days off? I wanna know their reactions 😭 Thank you, I love your writing!!!

Thank you so much! That means so much to me! 🥹 I got your request coming right up!

La Squadra x Reader who’s friends with team Bucciarati:

CW: suggestive content, possessive behavior

Notes: this is placed in an everyone lives!AU because if I placed it in canon you just know they would be trying to kill each other 😭 So in this ask they will begrudgingly coexist with each other 😅 some of it will be kinda OOC and crackish since I went a little too far with this ask. I had a little too much fun with their reactions. I hope this meets your expectations nonetheless! Enjoy!💜 Beryl

All of La Squadra: Unacceptable! *drags your ass back home*

Risotto

It was dark in the base when you came back. “…hello? Anyone home?” You asked with unease.

You heard the click of a lamp being switched on and seeing a brooding Risotto looking quite displeased.

“Where were you all day?” He interrogated.

“Sigh…Ris I TOLD you this morning I was going to hang out with my friends.” You rubbed your forehead at his dramatics.

“You never mentioned it was Bucciarati and his underlings…”he grumbled.

“Why do I have to? YOU KNOW I don’t have any other friends! …in Italy that is.” You sighed.

“No more. I forbid it.” He folded his arms.

“You “forbid it”??? Are you serious right now?” You put your hands on your hips challenging him.

“You have plenty of friends here in La Squadra. You don’t need any others.” He said stubbornly.

“Too bad! It’s my day off—I do what I want. On my day off, you’re not my boss! So there!” You huffed.

“If you keep going there I will stop making you arancini and I KNOW you don’t know how to make it…and I won’t make-“

“Don’t you dare-“you threaten him knowing exactly what hes going to say.

“…lasagne. You’ll be doomed to eat frozen lasagne for all of eternity.” He smirked knowing he has the upper hand.

“Oh yeah??? Well if you do that and won’t let me see my friends, I won’t lay on top of you during bedtime anymore! You’ll have to sleep without any weight on you! And I KNOW you refuse to buy an expensive weighted blanket!”

“….please don’t. I seriously need sleep.”

“Let me see my friends and give me the Sicilian goods and you’ll get that good sleep.” You negotiated.

“…sigh. Ok. Fine. But you speak of this to NOBODY. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Formaggio

“I know. I was there.” He said while lounging on the couch.

“You WHAT???”

“I wanted to make sure none of them were gonna hit on you so I hitched a ride on ya and hung around for a while.” He explained like it was a normal thing to do.

“Why didn’t you just ask to come with me???” You asked dumbfounded.

“They aren’t my kind of crowd. That Mista guy is kinda cool though. I also wanted to see if you were going to cheat on me-good job by the way! I knew I could trust you!” He said giving you a thumbs up.

“That is a extreme invasion of privacy Maggio! What the hell!”

“ Hey I’m just being a concerned boyfriend. I care about your safety, you know.” He said defensively. “ it’s not like I stayed the whole time… the minute you and that Fugo started talking about sciency stuff I dipped out. That shit was BORING. He needs to get a hobby like collecting stamps, playing football…or SOMETHING. Good god.”

That made you snort. “He has plenty of hobbies. Probably too many which is why he has anger issues and hates his parents.” You snickered.

“Ah~ tiger parents… good thing my parents had such low expectations with me, yet I somehow managed to still disappoint them!” He joked.

“Now that you’re done hanging out with zeros come hang with a hero!” He said patting the couch cushion next to him. “We got football to watch!”

Illuso

“Welcome back traitor!” Everytime you come back from hanging out with Bucciaratis gang.

He teases the shit outta you for hanging out with a bunch of nobodies. 😭 He’s totally not jealous that you didn’t hang out with him today.

“So spill- tell me what embarrassing things they tell you today? Did Giorno drink more piss? Did that drunkard abbacchio do anything stupid?” He snickered.

“Pfft no.. nothing weird happened today. Sorry to disappoint!” You said talking your shoes off.

“So… I planned on having dinner just the 2 of us tonight?”

Oh…shit. Bucciarati insisted on feeding you with the rest of the boys and you are really full. You had 2 orders of bruschetta and caprese salad.

“Oooh yeah… about that lulu…” you said awkwardly.

“Don’t tell me you ate HIS Food. How could you?” Illuso growled.

“He offered and it was rude to say no! I’m sorry!” You tried to de-Escalate the situation.

“But it’s not rude to not eat your boyfriend’s food???” He asked angrily with his voice cracking at the end.

“No lulu— that’s not what I mean. I will—“ you try to explain yourself until he emotionally cuts you off.

“If you’re not going to eat my Gorgonzola dippers…then I’m not eating your ass!” He stormed off to the bedroom crying.

Oh dear… what people don’t see that you see is that Illuso is actually a very sensitive man. 😢 you gotta a lot of emotional damage to patch up… even though none of this is your fault 🙄 oh well, this is to be expected when you’re dating a drama queen

Pesci

“But…why..? How could you? 🥺” you hanging out with them broke this poor boys heart.

“Pesci Pesci Pesci baby please—it’s not what you think.” You were quick to do damage control.

“Is it because I’m not as attractive as Bucciarati and his goons???” He sniffled.

“Noooooooo Pesci they’re just my friends! You’re my one and only baby boy!” You said squeezing him hard. “I get to see you every day! I just hang out with them and get drunk like you do with the boys!”

“So it’s like your guy time?” He asked.

“Yeah!” You said excitedly. “That’s exactly what it is! Instead of drinking beer and watching football we just drink wine and gossip, do each others nails… fix each other hair… you know, feminine stuff!” You explained.

“Oh so you just need some friends for feminine time? Well I guess that’s ok… I really wish it wasn’t Bucciarati and his crew but it’s not like you can find some non mafiosos to hang out with.” He said feeling a little hesitant.

“Don’t worry, I’ll always have time for you Pesci! They’re my friends but the squad is my family! …my very fucked up dysfunctional family!”you said hugging him.

This helps him calm down. Everyone needs guy/girl time regardless of gender. Just make sure you go fishing with him every Sunday!

Prosciutto

“What kind of mafioso associates with a team they don’t belong to?” He sneered. “You have no dignity Y/N. You should be ashamed of yourself. What would Risotto think knowing you're enjoying the company of troglodytes???” He scolded.

“Pros please. You’re taking this way outta hand. We all work for the boss, I don’t see the proble-“ you explained before you were rudely cut off.

“Don’t speak. The next time I’m talking to you is on Dr. Phil.” He put his hand near your face as he turned his back to you and walked off. He needed a smoke break after dealing with the fact you were hanging around Bucciarati.

He’s so disappointed in you. 😔 how dare you hang out with Bucciarati and his bootlickers. He’s giving you the silent treatment but it’s not going to last long.

He can’t go 10 minutes without you sitting in his lap while you 2 Netflix and chill. 😭

“Do you forgive me???” You asked nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“Fine. I forgive you. I suppose I was acting out of hand… I will allow you to hang out with your poor choice of friends but in exchange you must…*whisper whisper* for me, and no complaining.”

“Oh…” your face turned red. Well… he allows you to hang out with the gang but you better be ready to do whatever he asked! 😳

Melone

“…do you think you can get some of their blood samples?” He asks suspiciously.

“NO MEL. You’re not gonna sic BabyFace on my buddies.” You smacked him on the head.

“But—How do I know they have honorable intentions??? What if they want to see your feet???”

“Melone! Only you would be the one be thinking about fucking feet!” You slapped him again. “Half of the guys are UNDER AGE and don’t even know where babies come from!” You hissed.

“Wait—really?” He asked dumbfounded.

“Fugo definitely knows but Narancia…he still thinks they come from the stork.” You sigh.

“That’s just…sad. The education system has failed him. Ok I’ll let you see your friends even though I don’t like them.”he said as he pulled out a camera. “But can I get pictures of your feet in exchange?”

“….”

“Please?”

Ghiaccio

“Unacceptable! You’re hanging out with THEM?! What about me?!” He hisses. Oh boy is he jealous.

“I don’t know how you can hang around Mista and his horrendous body odor! And don’t get me started on that Giorno! I swear to fuck I—“ he just won’t stop ranting… but as his S/O this is like white noise to you. You’re good at tuning him out 😅

“Are you listening to me?!” He barked.

“Huh?” You turned your head to be face to face with him staring at you angrily with intense eyes.

“Sniff sniff… you smell like cologne... You didn’t let any of them TOUCH you did you???” He interrogated you.

“Geez… calm down Ghia. No, Giorno just let me borrow his jacket because it was chilly outsi—“you said before you were cut off by Ghiaccio angrily ripping his jacket off and forcing it on you and rolling you around on the floor in it.

“Ghiaccio what the fuck are you doing??!” You whined getting dizzy.

“I’m rescenting you! I’m reclaiming what is MINE.” He said, trying to rub his scent into you.

“I’m dizzy! You’re gonna make me sick!” You whined. “Quit acting like a territorial feral cat!”

“ it’s either I do this or I hose the scent off you out in the backyard!” He growled possessively.

Ghiaccio is very territorial. 😬 he has his weird ways of expressing it too. Note to self-always bring your own jacket when visiting your friends.

[cherryxblossxms]

Trying to do No Nut November with Lucifer.

[GN reader, not explicit in description but ya know. NNN. 🔞]

When you bring up the idea, you think that he'll just scoff and dismiss it or that he won't be interested, but its worth a shot, right? You don't think much of it when he accepts, really. But he completely turns it around on you the second you start trying to tempt him.

You think you, some weak little human, are going to tempt a devil— one of the Seven Avatars, no less— into succumbing to pleasure?

Granted, he really is truly weak to you and your methods. He'd do most anything to please and pleasure you as much as you desire, his precious human master. He's not always great with his words, so he shows his love and devotion in the way he worships you. But he's also the Avatar of Pride, and he has a reputation and ego to uphold. Who would he be if he didn't try to turn this little game around on you, and see what kind of reactions he can get from you first?

He's not direct or intense about it by any means. He fully intends to have you submit first, but damn does he do it gracefully and with precision. You really don't know what hit you 'til it's too late.

Any normal day, he's stoic, prim and proper, with barely any skin showing. He carries himself more like a priest than a demon. But the second the challenge starts, that all changes. They are tiny changes, not at all significant by normal standards, but it's still enough to get you to rethink your choices.

His cloak suddenly makes less of an appearance, letting you get a good, clear view of his broad shoulders and thin waist. It's unusual to have such an unfettered view of his tall form outside the privacy of his bedroom. His gloves also seem to go on vacation, leaving his bare hands to trace along your cheek or touch the base of your neck, the lack of cloth separation totally throwing you off. Even as he places his hand on your back while walking, you can feel his heat more directly, sending shivers straight up and down your spine.

Lucifer is also well-known for his intense eye contact. Even before entering a true relationship, you'd become familiar with his heated bedroom eyes on occasion (the night you'd made a pact coming to mind...), that rich ruby red that makes your knees so weak. He's always so careful about keeping these expressions restricted to the bedroom, but not anymore, not now. Simply handing you a book that you asked for, making you coffee, helping you put on your coat, he takes pleasure in surprising you with that same private look. You can't help the way it sets off butterflies in your stomach, or gets your heart pounding, because you know what that look usually means. And given the deadly smirk on your lover's face, it's clear he knows exactly how it's affecting you, too.

As each day passes by, he turns up the heat a little bit more. Glancing touches to your body, innocent and accidental at first, but getting more calculated and devious as time goes on. Little slips of innuendos into his speech, making you think it's a mistake at first until you see the way he's looking at you. He certainly doesn't miss the way his words make your brain short-circuit, because he has it all memorized what you like and how you like it.

His kisses are a little bit too long, a little too deep and intimate. He always loves kissing you, and it's often a quick segue into more exciting events between you two, so it's easy for him to get lost in his objective when he uses this tactic. But he can look past the deep ache in his groin when he sees the needy look in your eyes and the way you stare at his lips for more.

And of course, bedtime isn't safe, either. He's a cuddler in private, you knew that already, but that just makes him more dangerous as the initially innocent touches and cuddling starts to heat up in the sheets. He knows just the way to touch you to rile you up, long fingers that trace along your body and across the most sensitive peaks, and it almost delights him how frustrated you get when it leads... nowhere. He's struggling too, don't misunderstand, but he's determined to win this damn challenge... or at least, outlast you.

By the end, whether that's the end of the month or simply the end of your limit, you're both trembling creatures of need. It's all a battle of wills and Lucifer puts up a good fight, so it's impossible to tell who will win or who will fold, but it's sure to be an explosive conclusion either way.

Before meeting you, Lucifer wouldn't have given a second thought to this silly human challenge. He has better things to put his time and energy into, he's a busy demon. But something about teasing you, testing each other's limits and seeing those rare expressions on your face, suddenly he can't say that he minds it too much. In fact, he can't wait to see how you will fare next year...