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crumblinggothicarchitecture · 29 days

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Taylor Swift is a Female Rage icon? Get a Grip.

I’ve just received word that Taylor Swift is calling her show “Female Rage: The Musical.” Here is my very much pissed off response to that nonsense:

The phrase, Female Rage has an intimately rich history:

Some of the first accounts of female rage dates to the Italian renaissance. To be clear, women in those days were not allowed to become painters- the arts were seen as the domain of men. They did not believe that women have rich inner lives capable of delivering the type of artistic innovation with which renaissance men were obsessed.

However, rebels abounded, through the might of their fucking rage. Several women created some of the most compellingly emotional paintings I’ve ever fucking seen. They did it without permission, without financial support, and often under the threat of punishment. They did it as a protest. In paintings like “Timoclea Killing Her Rapist” by Elisabetta Sirani (1659), and another by Artemisia Gentileschi “Slaying of Holofernes” (1612) as it depicts the bravery of Judith as she slayed a traveling warlord out to rape Judith and enslave her city. The painting often is referred to as a way Artemisia was envisioning herself as slaying her rapist. These paintings were used against these women as proof that they were unfeminine- and far too angry. Both these women suffered immensely for their audacity to call attention to the violation men perpetrated on them. Female Rage bleeds off these paintings- bleeds right through to the bone-deep acknowledgement of the injustice women faced being barred from the arts and having their humanity violated in such a sick way. Both women were hated- and considered far too angry.

In philosophy, also as early as the 15th century, an example of female rage is a philosophical text, often hailed as one of the first feminists works in the western world, written by Christine de Pizan titled The City of Ladies (1405). She wrote in protest on the state of women- writing that “men who have slandered the opposite sex out of envy have usually know women who were cleverer and more virtuous than they are” (“The City of Ladies”). People mocked her all her life- but she stood fast to her convictions. She was widowed at a young age with children to feed and the men wouldn’t let women have jobs! She wrote this book and sold it so that she could feed her family- and to protest the treatment of women as lesser than men. Her work was called aggressive and unkempt- they said she was far too angry.

In the 18th century, a young Mary Wollstonecraft wrote, A Vindication of the Right of Women ( 1792) upon learning that the civil rights won in the French Revolution did not extend to women! She wrote in protest of the unjust ways other philosophers (like Rousseau) spoke about the state of women- as if they were lesser. She wrote to advocate for women’s right to education, which they did not yet have the right to! She wrote to advocate for the advancement of women’s ability to have their own property and their own lives! The reception of this text, by the general public, lead to a campaign against Wollstonecraft- calling her “aggressive” and far too angry.

Moving into modernity, the 1960’s, and into literary examples, Maya Angelou publishes I know why the caged Bird Sings (1969) in which she discusses the fraught youth of a girl unprotected in the world. It beautifully, and heart-wrenchingly, described growing up in the American South during the 1930’s as it subjected her to the intersection of racism and sexism. The story is an autobiographical account of her own childhood, which explains how patriarchal social standards nearly destroyed her life. Upon the reception of her book, men mostly called it “overly emotional” and far too angry. Maya Angelou persisted. She did not back down from the honesty with which she shared her life- the raw, painful truth. With Literature, she regained a voice in the world.

Interwoven into each of the examples I have pulled out here, is the underlying rage of women who want to be seen as human beings, with souls, dreams and hopes, yet are not seen as full members of society at the behest of men. They take all that rage, building up in their souls, and shift it to create something beautiful: positive change. Each of these cases, I have outlined above, made remarkable strides for the women as a whole- we still feel the impact of their work today. They were so god-damn passionate, so full of righteous anger, it burst out into heart-stopping, culture-shifting art. Feminine rage is therefore grounded in experiences of injustice and abuse- yet marked too by its ability to advocate for women's rights. It cannot be historically transmogrified away from these issues- though Taylor Swift is doing her best to assert female rage as pitifully dull, full of self-deprecation, and sadness over simply being single or losing money. She trivializes the seriousness with which women have pled their cases of real, painful injustice and suffering to the masses time and time again. The examples above deal with subjects of rape, governmental tyranny, and issues of patriarchally inspired social conditioning to accept women as less human than men. It is a deadly serious topic, one in which women have raised their goddamn voices for centuries to decry- and say instead, “I am human, I matter, and men have no right to violate my mind, body, or soul.”

The depictions of female rage over the last few centuries, crossing through many cultures, is an array of outright anger, fearsome rage, and into utter despair. The one unyielding, solid underpinning, however, is that the texts are depicting the complete agency of the women in question. The one uniting aspect of female rage is that it must be a reaction to injustice; instead of how male depictions of female rage function, (think Ophelia), the women are the agents of their art with female made- female rage. They push forth the meaning through their own will- not as subjects of male desires or abuses, but as their own selves. That is what makes the phrase so empowering. They are showing their souls as a form of protest to the men who treat women like we have no soul to speak of.

Taylor Swift’s so-called female rage is a farce in comparison. Let’s look at an example: “Mad Woman” (2020). I pull this example, and not something from her TTPD set, because this is one of the earliest examples of her using the phrase female rage to describe her dumb music. (Taylor Swift talking about "mad woman" | folklore : the long pond studio sessions (youtube.com)

The lyrics from “Mad Woman” read “Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy/... And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry”

How exactly is agreeing with someone that you are “crazy” a type of female rage in which she’s protesting the patriarchy. The patriarchy has a long history of calling women “insane” if they do not behave according to the will of men. So, how is her agreeing with the people calling her crazy- at all subversive in the way that artworks, typically associated with concept of female rage, are subversive. What is she protesting? NOTHING.

Then later, she agrees, again, that she's “angry.” The issue I draw here is that she’s not actually explicating anything within the music itself that she’s angry about- she just keeps saying she's angry over and over, thus the line falls flat. The only thing this anger connects to is the idea of someone calling her angry- which then makes her agree that she is... angry. So, despite it being convoluted, it’s also just not actually making any kind of identifiable point about society or the patriarchy- so again, I beg, what on Earth makes this count as Female Rage?

In essence, she is doing the opposite of what the examples above showcase. In letting an outside, presumably male, figure tell Taylor Swift what she is feeling, and her explicit acceptance of feeling ��crazy” and “angry,” she is ultimately corroborating the patriarchy not protesting it. Her center of agency comes from assignment of feelings outside of herself and her intrinsic agreement with that assignment; whereas female rage is truly contingent on the internal state, required as within our own selves, of female agency. As I stated above, the women making female rage art must have an explicit agency throughout the work. Taylor Swift’s song simply does not measure up to this standard.

Her finishing remarks corroborates the fact that she's agreeing with this patriarchal standard of a "mad" or crazy woman:

"No one likes a mad woman/ You made her like that"

Again, this line outsources agency through saying "you made her like that" thus removing any possibility of this song being legitimate female rage. There is simply no agency assigned to the woman in the song- nor does the song ever explicitly comment on a social issue or protestation of some grievous injury to women's personhood.

She honestly not even being clever- she's just rhyming the word “crazy” with “crazy.” Then later rhyming “angry” with “angry.” Groundbreaking stuff here.

Perhaps Taylor Swift is angry, in “Mad Woman,” but it is not the same type of rage established in the philosophical concept of female rage of which art historians, philosophers, and literary critics speak. Instead, it is the rage of a businesswoman that got a bad deal- but it is not Female Rage as scholars would identify it. In “Mad Woman” I fear her anger is shallow, and only centered on material loss- through damaging business deals or bad business partners. She is not, however, discussing what someone like Christine de Pizan was discussing by making a case for the concept that woman also have souls like men do. In her book, she had to argue that women have souls, because men were unconvinced of that. Do you see the difference? I am saying that Swift’s concerns are purely monetary and material, whereas true examples of female rage center on injustice done against their personhood- as affront to human rights. Clearly, both things can make someone mad- but I’d argue the violation of human rights is more serious- thus more deserving of the title “Female Rage.”

Simply put, Taylor Swift is not talking about anything serious, or specific, enough to launch her into the halls of fame for "Female Rage" art. She's mad, sure, but she's mad the way a CEO gets mad about losing a million dollars. She's not mad about women's position in society- or even just in the music industry.

She does this a lot. The album of “Reputation” was described as female rage. Songs in “Folklore” were described as female rage. Now, she’s using the term to describe TTPD, which is the most self-centered, ego-driven music I’ve heard in a long time.

Comparing the injustice, and complete subjugation, of women’s lives- to being dumped by a man or getting a bad deal- wherein she is still one of the most powerful women of the planet- is not only laughable, but offensive.

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satellite-evans · 10 months

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poets & soulmates

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Harry doesn’t know how to react when he learns that you don’t believe in soulmates.

Word count: a cute little blurb

Warnings: angst? Flufffff

A/N: heyyyyy!!!!!

It’s been ages since I last posted a fic, so I am soooo excited to post my very first Harry Styles one! I really hope you guys like it, I’ve worked on this for a while, so let’s see how it goes. I’m very excited and nervous to post this, but I am so happy to be back! Please tell me what you guys think and give me as much as feedback as you can so I can grow and be a better Harry fic writer for you all xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

If you had to describe the love you shared with Harry with a poem, you would probably choose the one from Edgar Allan Poe.

“We loved with a love that was more than love.”

It said so much in such few words; the best description of your love for him.

Because it is true, it is more than love. Always had been. If you took the love out of the relationship, you and Harry would be left with so much to survive. There was trust, for example. And also intimacy. Not to forget there was an understanding between you, too, that no one understood. If you were in a room with thousands of people, he would recognize you, every single time. Like you were a shining diamond between rocks. The effect you both had on each other, was beyond explaining in chemistry. Harry could touch you, and the breath that would escape from your lips oh so silently would already expose the effect he had on you.

Harry was no different, either. Seeing you smile proudly when you looked at him, made him turn into dust, that you blew away with your eyes. But he was afraid at first. To love.

He was afraid to love you.

For him, you were a stunning mystery. You carried things deep inside you that no one understood, and Harry was afraid to fail like the others. In his eyes, you were like the ocean and he was just a man who loved the waves but was completely terrified of swimming.

How couldn’t he be? At twenty nine, everyone had an idea in their head about how Harry was in relationships. Some said that he was single because he had commitment issues, others said the reason he was still alone was that he was too much of a playboy.

Yes, he had a few relationships before you and some of them did not end well, but Harry always respected and treated them with his kindness, always wanted the best for them.

He would do everything for his love, for you.

“Hey, love?” He asked you, clearly with hesitation. The way his voice shook a little didn’t go unnoticed by you in his London home where the both of you were lying in his bed. After spring came, Harry offered you to stay with him until summer so the two of you could enjoy long walks in the park with his favorite companion. You never said yes to an offer so quickly before in your life.

“Yes H, everything okay?”

How? How was it that every time Harry wanted to start a subject that was sensitive for him, you already knew by just the way he asked you his first question? Call it magic, call it luck. Harry liked to call it love.

“Do you think we’re soulmates? Like-I mean, we would be together and we will be forever?”

He didn’t know why that question was so important to him, but it was. He wanted to know your opinions and thoughts about the future both of you had. Every time Harry was dreaming about his future and how it would look, he realized you were always there. In the audience when he opened his biggest show ever, in the delivery room when he held his baby for the first time, everywhere. So your answer was very important to him. He wanted- no; he needed to know if he was present in your future as much as you were present in his.

“No, I don’t think we are. But that’s because I don’t believe in soulmates.”

Ouch. That shouldn’t have hurt him, but it did. Blaming you would be pointless. You didn’t believe in the whole idea of soulmates, but that didn’t make him less insecure. He knew it was too good to be true. That you were too good to be true.

The whole aura of the room changed and Harry slowly got up from where he was lying between your legs. You saw that his demeanor changed and that the happy, slightly tired Harry got replaced with a sad Harry.

“Hey, hey what’s that all about? Why the sad face?”

Honesty was one thing you both took extremely seriously. So that’s what you wanted to do this time, too. But without realizing you broke slightly Harry’s heart.

“It’s nothing, really. You don’t have to believe we are soulmates. I don’t know why I’m sad if I am being honest.” He said with a slight smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. He was clearly devastated by your answer.

You sat closer to him on his bed, touched his cheeks with your hands, and stared him deeply into his eyes. Harry already felt his heartbeat going faster. It was going so fast that he thought he was going to have a stroke. He held on to your arm dearly, so if he fainted, you could hold him. Like you always had been.

“I don’t believe in soulmates, and I don’t think that you & I were meant to end up together. What I believe is that we fell in love & that we worked hard for our relationship. I mean, look at you, you’re an amazing person with qualities so great that an individual can only dream of having those. Every woman is lucky to have you. I am from another country and I am younger than you. Remember all the news that they made about us when we first started going out? They told me I was a gold digger, that you were too good for me, that you cheated on me, and so on. But we didn’t listen to any of them. We let our love grow because we knew, H. We knew that what we had was special, and not everybody was lucky enough to feel what we felt. So no, I don’t think we are soulmates. But you are the one for me; Harry. You were in my past when I didn’t even know. You are my person in the present, And you will be in the future. Because I will always, undoubtedly, love you.”

Without waiting for his response, you connected your lips with his. You knew he was sensitive and these bare confessions took a toll on him, so you just kissed him, to let him know it was okay. That you were there for him, always.

“Just give me 3-5 business days, and I’ll come up with even a bigger love confession, promise.”

Harry said, after he broke the bruising kiss.

He wasn’t lying. Harry had no words to say to you. He knew you loved him, but not that much. It was like his brain & heart were on fire and you just put them out with your words. Relief washed over him, and like a cherry on his favorite cake, you kissed him with adoration.

“Oh, I know you will. It’s a known fact that you were always better with words, but just so you know, you don’t have to. I feel your love every time you look at me. Hate to break it to you, but your eyes give it away how much you love me, Styles.”

He didn’t care about the idea of the whole soulmate anymore. He felt so stupid that he was thinking about that. The love that the both of you shared, was more special, and rare. The two of you were even better than soulmates.

“That I do, Y/N. That I do. I love you so fucking much. It sometimes hurts. It hurts not to touch you, not to be near you, not to kiss you.”

He closed the gap between you with a passionate kiss again, that knocked your breath away. Your whole body was on fire, not knowing what to do. With every touch of his on your skin, the fire started to get more and more aggressive. He released your lips, but stayed close, so you could feel his breath on your lips and he could hear your heartbeat going faster.

“I am no poet, Y/N but just know that if I was, you would be my biggest inspiration.”

You looked him in the eyes, trying to control your breathing, but it was a lost cause. His blue eyes were like ice digging into your heart, and the only thing you could do was surrender.

“That might be the best poem I’ve ever heard.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n

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malegains · 6 months

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So I think a lot of Bing driven AI blogs have fallen off since the NSFW filter went super strict for about 48 hours about nine days ago. Even though it relaxed again, the landscape it left behind was very different. Old tricks didn’t work anymore. But new tricks can be discovered and exploited, and the last few days I’ve been getting my sexiest and most extreme results ever. All the stuff I’ve posted in the las six days has been newly made, not backlog (my backlog is enormous… will I ever clear it? Probably not)

In the interest of community and education, here is an example.

These four images were the result of one submission of one prompt - I didn’t have to wrestle the machine for them at all. The prompt is:

underexposed Polaroid, side view from far away, two Icelandic bodybuilding bros facing each other submerged near a hot spring, enormously muscular, golden light, loving embrace, buzzed blond hair, relaxed, unbelievably enormous muscles, muscle morph, leg muscles like enormous heavy water balloons, enormous muscular arms, high body fat, leaning against each other

Now be warned, this is a bit of a jenga tower. Moving things around too much may break it. I’d recommend writing your own from scratch but stealing specific key phrases, modifying and evolving those, see what works best for you.

Thanks to @thespacewerewolf for the “near a hot spring” trick to get them into a hot spring, and to @zangtangimpersonator for the water balloon / weather balloon comparison trick, which is a Swiss Army knife of a prompt for anyone who likes big round shapes.

This is why I unpinned my old tutorial. The spirit is the same - think of twisty ways to ask for what you want, certain scenario seem way more permissive than others, throwing in random details seems to help, etc etc etc. But the specifics have changed, and the sample prompts I built in a couple old tutorial posts won’t really work now as they did then. Keep evolving your prompts, experimenting, and sharing what works for you.

#ai muscle #male muscle growth #ai muscle growth #muscle #musclegrowth #muscle romance #ai muscle tutorial #ai tutorial

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twstgarden · 3 months

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✿ ❝ 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗸𝗶𝗱 ❞

━ riddle rosehearts x gifted kid burnout! fem! reader ━ being a gifted child is not always deemed as a blessing, and riddle knows the feeling all too well. (f/n means first name)

requested by: @tangybiskit1 request type: oneshot requester’s message: Reader is like the perfect student.(not prefect) She gets full marks, optimistic, kind and charming to the point where even Riddle thinks his mother would like her. But after befriending her for a few weeks he decides to visit reader and her room is a mess, filled with books, scattered papers. It reminds Riddle of himself and you know how that turned out... So he tries to comfort her saying that she is good enough,(ending can be how you want) sorry if it's badly worded😭😭 this is my first time making a request.. florist’s note: oh wow, this hits close to home <3 anyway, thank you for the request, little one! ♥

this work contains spoilers from chapter 1, heartslabyul's arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

ko-fi here if you want to support me, commission are open

perfect. that was how people described you. a sweet, young lady with a bright smile and a bright mind. a lot of the students in night raven college liked you for your charming personality, and there was barely any student that had a bad experience with you.

perfect. you were the epitome of perfect. a beautiful young lady with a sweet smile, a charming personality, and a bright mind. who would not want to befriend you? some students even talked about you to their peers and their parents. now, it wasn’t always painted in a good light. some have been jealous of you, and some wished you did not exist at all. it makes them look bad, you know?

of course, riddle was one of those people. he greatly admired you for your dedication and hard work, and he takes great pride in having you as a heartslabyul resident. you were the perfect, ideal example of what heartslabyul students should be. you followed all the rules to a t, memorized every one of them, and never questioned or disobeyed the rules that may seem too extreme or ridiculous.

“ah, f/n,” spoke riddle as soon as he saw you in the library, a smile ghosting over his lips. his voice reached your ears as you looked up from your book and smiled at him, “oh… hello, dormitory leader rosehearts!”

that sweet smile.

riddle did not realise his cheeks were tinted pink as he remained smiling at you. he then walked away, not knowing what else to say or how to keep the conversation going. oh, how he wished he could befriend you. he was stuck in this student-to-student relationship with you, and he did not know how to deepen it.

it was going well, at least, that’s what he thought. he made sure he could interact with you at least once a day, to get the both of you used to each other’s presence. he also decided to join you at your table during lunch, eating with you without the need for a conversation. it did not take long until your relationship went deeper than the shallow interactions.

“by the way, riddle… why is your favourite food strawberry tarts?” you asked as you nibbled on a tart that he shared with you. as riddle took a bite of his own, he replied, “it’s sweet and rich with flavours. i rarely ever get to taste it when i was younger, but the one time i did felt like heaven was in my mouth…”

there was a small smile on your face as you listened to riddle. you knew what his household was like. you were there during the overblot incident, after all. “i mean, my mother did get angry at me for eating that… she told me it was too sugary and it’s poisonous for my health…”

unconsciously, your hand went up to his cheek as you caressed it for comfort. riddle also froze as soon as he felt the affection before glancing at you. you realised what you had done and quickly retracted your hand with a blush, “ah— sorry, sorry. i thought you needed some comfort.”

with you around, riddle always felt like he could continue to hold on and move forward. seeing your bright smile energizes him for the day, and seeing your name at the top of the achiever's list always brings a sense of pride from within.

“congratulations, f/n,” spoke riddle as soon as he saw you standing by the bulletin board. you had a blank expression on your face before smiling as soon as you heard his voice, “oh, thanks! congratulations to you, too.”

‘why do you look sad?’, thought riddle to himself as he noticed your blank expression before acknowledging him. were you not happy with what you got? but you received a 499 out of 500, surely, it’s worth a smile or two, no?

he decided to brush it off a little since you had already walked away, but it was in the back of his mind for a few days now. why did you seem bothered? he knew the importance of getting a perfect score, his mother reiterated that several times.

he did not speak much of it, but he did notice you getting a little distant, even if you are physically beside him. your mind seemed to be in another place every time he tried to discuss something with you. it was clear that something was wrong.

but he did not know how to approach the problem.

riddle tried accompanying you during study sessions, gifting you treats, sharing his tarts with you over lunch, doing mind exercises with you, and many other things. however, they only seemed to fix the problem temporarily.

exam season was around the corner once more, and everyone has been busying themselves with studying. riddle had spent his time studying, but of course, he did not neglect his duties as the dormitory head. as soon as the clock struck 3 in the afternoon, it was time for his patrol around the dorm. he had to make sure all his residents were disciplined and studying.

with one room into the next, he discovered all of them busying themselves with reading and discussing certain sections of their books with their roommates. ‘good work,’ thought riddle to himself as he saw his residents studying. he just hoped ace and deuce were doing the same.

as soon as he reached your room, he knocked on the door before twisting the knob and peeking in. he thought he would see you silently seated on your study table, reading through a book, or taking notes. however, he discovered you seated on the floor, a book on your lap as you wrote in your notebook, surrounded by several copies of papers and books.

you were in a clear state of disarray. your hair was a mess as you checked every paper before writing something down in the notebook. the process continued as you mumbled under your breath, “no, this is not right… the answer isn’t hydrolysis…”

a sigh escaped your lips as you buried your head into your palms, your hair covered your devastated expression as riddle silently walked into your room and knelt beside you, picking up all the scattered notes as you sniffled and glanced at him, “riddle…?”

you did not expect to see him in your room, and you quickly wiped your cheeks as you picked up the remaining scattered papers. riddle held the notes he collected and looked at you, seeing your cheeks, eyes, and the tip of your nose being tinted with a little bit of red from all the crying.

you were having a breakdown. he knew that much. he now noticed why you seemed absentminded and distant lately, especially with the exam season coming up. you were drowning yourself in your studies, making sure you memorized and remembered every single fact taught to you.

“…sorry you had to see me like this…” you mumbled as you grabbed the notes from him. he quickly shook his head as he spoke, “no… you don’t have to apologise. how long have you been cooped up in here?”

“i’ve been here all weekend…” you replied. you’ve been in your room, studying for two days straight without paying much attention to your other needs, and it was evident with the bags under your eyes. he hoped you were at least eating, but as he looked around your room, there were a few wrappers from the snacks you ate and an empty water bottle.

a sigh escaped riddle’s lips as he held his hand out to you, “you’re a mess. you need to eat… come.” you shook your head, which caused riddle to raise a brow, “f/n, all you’ve eaten were convenience meals with no proper nutrition whatsoever. don’t be stubborn and—”

“i don’t care!”

riddle fell silent in shock. did you just… yell?

you looked up at him, your eyes held glossy tears as you spoke, “i don’t care even if i starve for days! they’re worth nothing if i fail… this is our finals, and it will determine just how much i’m worth…” a soft sob escaped your lips as you bowed your head to hide your tears, “it will… determine how much my parents love me…”

riddle was silent. so, this is what hides behind the perfect f/n l/n. behind that sweet smile, charming personality, and bright mind was a little girl who never had the chance to be a child, to experience what it’s like to have fun, and to know what it’s like to have no expectations to live up to.

how lonely you must have felt.

“who cares if i’m physically well when i make a single mistake on the test? my mother cursed me through the phone as soon as she saw my results…” you mumbled, venting out everything that had happened the past few days, “i’m nothing but a useless brat who wastes their money in a prestigious school… i don’t deserve to be here if i can’t even get full marks to show that i’m learning something…”

riddle knew what it was like to have a parent who seeks perfection in their child, and it was only lately when he realised it was an unhealthy way of living, drowning yourself in your studies to ensure future success to the point you’d neglect yourself. he got closer to you, holding your shoulder as you wiped your tears, “if i fail the finals, they won’t let me continue my education…”

he was stunned. sure, a punishment is given when one does not receive the desired results on a test. that was his norm, too, but completely discontinuing your education because of 1 mistake or 2 on a test is extreme.

“what…? your parents would go that far…?” questioned riddle. you merely nodded in response as you wiped your tears and hugged your knees to your chest, “…everything feels like a chore…” riddle was left frozen, he did not know what to say or do as he never received appropriate support growing up.

he understands your pains, but he doesn’t know how to comfort you. he can’t lie and say it would be better because he knows that won’t do anything.

you have been showing the brightest smile he’s ever seen all the time, but who knew you were breaking piece by piece? all because of the expectations set on you. all because you were the gifted child of your parents, and therefore, you must live up to be the best of the best.

“sometimes i think… i should just stop… maybe if i fail several times, then they’ll leave me alone… but that also means i won’t receive their love and praises… and i won’t be their favourite daughter anymore…”

riddle stayed silent as he sat on the floor beside you, listening to you vent out all that had been stuck in your mind.

“but… sometimes i also think… if i ruin myself too much and fail… i’m worth nothing… who would love a worthless person? then i’ll be destined to be alone…” you cried softly as you kept hugging your knees to your chest, “i’m tired of thinking about this… i’m tired of caring so much… i’m tired of hearing all the curses that come out of my mother’s mouth… i’m tired of repeatedly being told that i am useless…”

the room then fell silent, and only your soft sobs broke the ice as riddle gently placed his hand on your hair. “…you’re not useless just because you got one or two questions wrong in a test…” mumbled riddle as you peeked at him with your face buried into your arms, “and… you’re not worthless. you don’t need to be perfect to be loved… you just need to be yourself.”

as you remained to look at him, you sniffled softly and wiped your tears, “…but…” riddle gave you a small smile, “i know what it feels like to know that everything we learned growing up and the things we are exposed to is wrong… you’ve been told that anything less than perfect is unacceptable, and i was taught the same thing…”

a soft sigh left his lips as he placed a hand on your cheek, the same way you did to him when he spoke of his reason for loving a sweet treat, “you were there when the incident happened, and i have learned my mistakes… now i am here to tell you that you are worth it. you’re not a financial burden, you’re not useless, you’re not stupid, you are none of that, f/n. i wish you could see yourself the way i see you… then you’ll understand why i always want to be around you…”

you were speechless. what could you possibly say in response to that? if you didn’t know any better, it felt like a confession disguised as comforting words. receiving no verbal response, riddle got a little embarrassed as he avoided your gaze, “… i said too much. i apologise—”

“no…”

riddle blinked before he glanced back at you, seeing you smile a little at him, “…i appreciate your words… thank you…” seeing that sweet smile, even if it was a small one, made riddle smile as well, “you don’t need to thank me… now, you need to have your lunch.” he stood up and held his hand out to you.

you held his hand and stood up, smiling at him as you were about to wipe any remaining tearstains on your face when his hand gently rested on your cheek, wiping it as he spoke, “i don’t want to see you neglecting yourself next time.”

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ellaenchanting · 3 months

Text

WHAT IS MINDFULNESS VS HYPNOSIS ACCORDING TO ELLA ENCHANTING (haver of opinions)

One misconception that I often hear amongst hypnosis geeks is that "mindfulness" is basically a normie-safe word for "hypnosis"- that hypnosis and mindfulness practices are essentially the same thing.

This is a hard misconception to disprove- in fact, "hypnosis" and "mindfulness" are often defined really vaguely and in different ways by different people so- they could often very well be refering to the same thing!* I know when I first learned about mindfulness practices, I dismissed them as "just" repackaged hypnotherapy- something I already knew a lot about. However, in doing so, I was neglecting ideas that turned out to be a really useful self-improvement tools.

If you're of a similar mindset, drawing a distinction between the two may also be really helpful for you.

MINDFULNESS:

So, the end goal of mindfulness is learning a kind of grounded way to self reflect. It's a potentially really helpful skill for people who get caught in thought spirals** or overwhelming emotions. A big goal for people learning the skill is to be able to observe thoughts and emotions without entirely buying into them OR dismissing them. Let's say I have a train of thought that keeps looping in my head- I'm worried about something stupid I said yesterday at work, for example. Imagine that train of thought is an ACTUAL train- maybe a toy train running on a looped track. Normally, when you're having the work worries it's like you're on that thought train- riding it around and around in circles while you're getting increasingly anxious and kind of limiting yourself from doing other things. With mindfulness practice, the goal is to get you OFF the train- it's not gone, but you're kinda watching it from the sidelines instead of ON it. It's still happening but with a bit of distance you can see the thoughts more clearly and better take care of yourself while that thought track is running.

Another example- let's say I have a big feeling. I'm going to pick overwhelming shame***. In mindfulness practices, the goal is usually not to ignore the shame or entirely give into it but to be able to sit with it and understand it without DROWNING in it. So, in that state of mind, I might sit with the shame and kind of question why it's there and what it wants from me. I might find some kindness for myself as someone who is experiencing shame (which is harder to do when I'm more inside it). I might work to conceptualize the shame differently- what does it look like, what sounds does it make, etc. In that way, I'm paying attention to an emotion that might be helpful- but not overly giving into it.

If I were teaching someone mindfulness techniques, the goal there is for them to be able to use the techniques entirely on their own whenever they need to. I'm not really trying to overly influence or control what's happening for them- I'm keeping my language as permissive as possible and encouraging them to accept whatever comes up. "Notice what's there without feeling like you need to change it" is a common mindfulness instruction. The practice encourages curiosity and bravery in the face of the overwhelming STUFF of life.

HYPNOSIS:

There are lot of different ways people do and experience hypnosis- and I'm definitely not going to be able to address all of them here. But, at least in kink, my goal in hypnotizing someone is to directly influence their thoughts. In fact, when I'm hypnotizing someone, a lot of my "induction" is convincing someone that I'm already in their head- that they're responding automatically to my suggestions. There's the kinky control fun of that and also the mutual shared feeling of intimacy- we're so close we could be one. (Or, in more D/s-ey terms, we're so close that now you are an extension of me!) In 101 classes you'll learn about the pacing and leading technique- basically matching your subject's experience and then taking them a step further. (Ex. You're reading my words and focusing on the screen and that reminds you to take a deep breath NOW.)

Explaining it by cold control hypnosis theory****, during an induction I'm helping someone kind of flip OFF their awareness of their agency- creating the illusion that things are happening internally because I'm MAKING them happen (and disguising the part where they're in complete control of their actions).

Especially in kink, what we're doing in hypnosis play is often a really conscious power exchange. You're giving me power over your thoughts because you want me to have it. I direct them where I want them to go and away from where I don't want them to be (ex. the actual reason why you're relaxing is, in part, because that's a natural thing that happens for most people when they close their eyes for more than a few seconds). (That's an excellent babysitting/parenting pro tip from me to you btw.) It's not that subjects aren't actively contributing their own images/ideas/metaphors/desires to the suggestions and play (really often they are!) but usually their whole goal is to be directed.

Even in hypnotherapy, that directedness and control is implied. You're not coming on (nearly) as strong as you would in kink, but your goal there is usually more in direction (with teaching self hypnosis techniques as an added bonus).

Sometimes the hypnosis and mindfulness methodologies can be incredibly similar with really subtle differences! For example, I might start a mindfulness-teaching body scan in the same way that I might start a progressive muscle relaxation induction- "Go ahead and get into a comfortable position and close your eyes". But continuing with the hypnosis induction, I'll usually be more directive ("Notice your feet. As you're noticing them, imagine sending a wave of relaxation down to your toes.") whereas with the body scan I'll be more exploratory. ("Notice your feet. What do they feel like? Are they hot or cold? Do they want to move or stay still? Whatever is happening for them right now is fine- just notice them") The pmr induction is intended to move someone into a suggestible state, the body scan is intended to teach someone a particular mindset and focusing skill they can use later. *****

Like I stated before, things that I consider "hypnosis" ideas and techniques and "mindfulness" ideas and techniques get mixed up all the time- with both lay folks and the actual professionals who teach them. There's a lot of surface similarities. "Mindfulness" has become such a therapy and corporate buzzword that it often DOES become synonymous with things like guided relaxation. Both concepts are vague enough that there's a lot of things that can easily be either/or- I'm thinking self hypnosis specifically here******. But- I hope if you're curious about mindfulness at all, you'll find this explanation useful and will maybe go out and explore some helpful resources for yourself.

Good mindfulness 101 books:

Full Catastrophe Living- Jon Kabat Zinn

The Mindful Way Through Depression- J. Mark G Williams et all

Just an FYI here at the bottom- like all self-help techniques, mindfulness stuff can be extremely helpful to some and not at all helpful to others. If it hasn't been personally helpful to you that's fine! I hope you've found some other things that are. Also, you can feel free to take my self help advice just as seriously as you would of any other kinky fetish blogger. :p I'm not your therapist, feel free to check in with them about things that might help you.

*I think people expanding the definition and ideas around both of these can be really helpful, in fact!

**Of the not-fun kind

***You know, like I normally do

****One of many hypnosis theories! And often not the best one for kink! If hypnosis doesn't feel like this for you, that's perfectly ok!

*****OK, in actuality both probably do both things! But the emphasis is different.

******A big difference in my mind- if you discover pain or discomfort, hypnosis-style techniques are usually directing you away from that while mindfulness-style techniques are usually directing you towards curiousity about those things.

#mindfulness #hypnosis #hot takes #I'm a bit pedantic on this one #but that’s because I think mindfuless can truly be helpful #just takes some practice to learn #curious to hear any thoughts people have!

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illmoraineakoi · 10 months

Text

Ooof

This took...A WHILE

I present to you: All of the unique Vessels in Hollow Knight (Plus a few fun bonuses)

[Note that some Vessel designs 'share' categories, which is not shown.]

[Right-click view image in new tab for full size is recommended]

Some notes below

This took me a week to put together, though partially because I kept editing some stuff. Originally, they all had the same cloak design and same cloak color, and that...that was just ugly LMAO So I changed that.

All Vessels were made with the same base (probably obvious) except for Lost Kin, because of course, Lost Kin ALWAYS has to be contrary, the little shit.

The Vessels are separated into the 'category' that they're unique to, which is in turn split into where they're 'found' in-game. Though again, the game reuses designs frequently (an example being the Sibling Shade with four horns: that's also a Vessel shown in the Godhome Cutscene, and the Deepnest ram horn is also a Sibling in the abyss.)

This was actually really REALLY fun to do. It was originally jsut a way to make Reference Sheet icons for my fics, to remind myself which name belonged to which Vessel, and I just...Had too much fun and decided to do ALL of them.

I'm showing more love the Vessels than the Pale King ever did lmao

There are 33 Canon designs in the game (Or at least 33 that I was able to identify) and 6 "canon" cut content designs. 6 Vessels on this page were made for fun, and to fill some space.

I'm also aware that some of the designs on this page might look similar to some Vessel OCs that someone might've created, but I assure you, most of these designs were taken from the game assets. And the onest that were are my own design (Velvet and Luna) or made by just messing around. The similarity is unintentional.

As a side note, I kinda want to make some more of mess-around designs. I've got some more ideas, and one more unnamed OC I might do.

If anyone's interested in the full-size individual images of any of the Vessels [free of the category tint] I'd be willing to send you them. I had to scale this image down by half just for Tumblr to upload it LMAO. I won't be posting them individually.

That being said, please don't use this page for anything beyond a visual reference without permission, please?

EDIT: I FORGOT I WANTED TO INCLUDE THIS TOO

HERE HAVE THE REFERENCE PAGE FOR ALL THE UNIQUE VESSEL ASSETS I FOUND

#Hollow Knight #Hollow Knight Vessels #Vessels #Illmoraine Art #Reference Sheet #Vessel OC #hk Ghost #hk THK #hk broken vessel #hk Deepnest Vessels #hk Abyss corpses #hk Siblings #hk Vessels #longpost

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storiumemporium · 11 months

Text

Into The Dawn

Aegon II Targaryen/Reader

| Word Count - 3.6k | Smut 🔞 | Oral sex (M receiving), dry humping, foreplay (F receiving), slight Somnophilia |

I shoulda known what y'all horny bitches want, and I've got it right here for you 😭 C'MERE AND GET IT

Fair warning, it ends on a mean cliffhanger 😌

It’s strange, just what love could do to a person.

Not that it fundamentally shifts you, or any of the grandiose platitudes Westeros’ great poets might put forth about how love was all powerful. It wasn’t, and it didn’t, and it couldn’t. Love did not make you something completely different from what you already were.

But it did… for example… make you start to enjoy early mornings, where once you’d hated it the most.

Because now, tucked beneath a heavy silk cover, you turn against the cresting dawn just beginning to wake- and you see your husband in his most pure.

He’s lovely like this, deep set eyes heavily closed against the world, pale lashes fluttering every once in awhile as dreams carry him through the motions. The sun is reaching it’s fingers for him, hazy gray and not fully out yet- so early as to remain dark- but even this is enough to bring him awash. His skin milky and smooth within this gentle scene… Even his hair, so startling white that at times you found yourself dumbfounded by it, has in some way been softened, the impact reduced.

Aegon is just drifting there beside you.

He’s always been like this, from the very earliest that you’ve known him. A late and heavy sleeper, wound up in his threads and puffing quiet, wine-soaked breaths. A child only then, despite what others might say about him and his… past habits. The wine has faded with the advent of a nagging wife to gently pull him back from his vices, but the deep and difficult to disturb rest has not.

The distance feels impossible when affection comes knocking against the ribs beneath your skin. To not feel him and know that he is real and yours could send you sprawling after too long. And so, careful as to not tug your shared blankets away from him and wake him from this blissful and sacred little moment that you and you alone were allowed the chance to covet, you encroach upon his space. Once you hover over him, the scenes seem to change and invoke more firmly the vulnerability of the moment. The equality of laying side by side is thrown like curtains to let in the sunlight, and you can see precisely the pattern with which his choppy hair splays around him, the softness of large arms that do not flex or strain- have no idea of the weight looming so close by. He’s helpless before you, oblivious of all the ways his body is being picked apart beneath twinkling eyes.

None the rest in his world ever seemed inclined to see him, to understand the gentleness beyond the cynicism and the biting wit. None but you, and you hoped above all else that you could prove to him just how special you knew it was. Just how much you cherished this allowance. Just as you cherished every little smile that he spared you, more and more common as the days rolled past and he realized that you would not change, would not grow to finally be disappointed by him.

That he could smile and he would not, eventually, inevitably, be swatted away.

Fingers lift with the weightlessness of an idea- well, more a whimsy that has come to you. So soft, so sweet. So unaware. Fingers gentling across his jawline, feathered against the edge until you tap digits against his chin, thumb smoothing softly against the place where a divot sometimes forms as he talks and smiles and laughs. Little in response, Aegon sighs softly and stretches into his comforts, seeming only to sink deeper within the deceptively soft confines of his favored pillows. It’s a soft little motion that sets your heart on fire, smile curling away at the edges of your mouth in spite of yourself.

You could giggle like a child. In fact, you might have, but who was here to notice?

Like you’ve been given permission, you go on an journey, your little adventure across your husband’s sleeping form. He’s as oblivious as ever in his gentle rest, body reacting only of it’s own volition when you ghost over the dip in his throat, palm splaying over his chest. Just a moment, just a moment. Just long enough to feel the heavy and healthy and slow beating drum in his chest. Each time it presses defiantly against you is a pang of affection in your own. Good and strong, you carry back on with the urges of your flesh.

He’s a bit deceptive, your Aegon. He’s not all the hard lines and harsh edges of his younger, taller brother who prides himself on displaying his superiority in every fashion. He has a bit of softness to him, deceptive. Deceptive. Just the faintest bit to blur the expanse of his belly, but not so much that when he buckles over you and fucks you with the sort of singleminded intent you thought only belonged to a vengeful man, you can’t see the planes of corded muscle beneath.

Oh yes, he’s strong. Very strong. Enough that his stockier stature allows him to haul and throw you as he pleases- and it does please him. His favorite when he has nothing but salacious thoughts on his wicked brain. It inspires something indescribable behind normally leisurely violet eyes- you suppose the Dragon which all the Lords and Ladies of Kings’ Landing like to proclaim the Targaryen’s are possessed of. A predatory thing bred into their bloodline, whatever Valyrian magic threaded them inextricably with their fabled mounts. It shines through like embers might on charcoaled wood when he splays his hands over you and knows you could not move even if you so desired. Those muscles, those strong binding things he’s possessed of, they tense and show themselves for the briefest of seconds when you tickle your fingers over them. Finally, his face winces slightly- you pause- and then relaxes after your heart gives two thundering beats within your ears.

Getting too eager, now. Jumping ahead of yourself and forgetting what the idea was all about, the fancy that caught you to begin with. Eyes trace patterns over his face for any signs of awareness. But by some great fortune they do not come, and he allows you your second grace.

Close enough to feel the warmth gently radiate from his skin, to bloom out across your skin, you move to nearly straddle Aegon. It’s a shock of sensations, the motion making voids in this heavy cloth where the frigid air not yet warmed by the sun eagerly fills- rocketing over your legs and back to send shiver-flesh all across your skin, to pebble your nipples in that way that Aegon likes. It’s teeters on that disorienting precipice of pleasant-unpleasant, wanting to shy from the cold into the perpetual burn of your Lord-husband. An action that requires some work on your part, lining up to slowly and so, so meticulously lay yourself atop his slumbering frame. Not enough that he bears your weight, but enough that your cunt throbs at every inch of desperately desired contact between the two of you.

It’s good, it’s cathartic.

Still he does not wake- making little noncommittal grunts in his sleep that inspire your imagination. You try to fill out his dreams for him, unsure that he would even recall them upon waking. Perhaps he was speaking to someone, to a Princess? To you? To some divine woman upon a lake? A pleasant dream, one he would like to chase come the next night.

You start where your fingers had in the minutes passed. Mouth dipping to not quite kiss- rather a gentle brush of your mouth down and over his jaw, his chin, across his throat, over his collarbones. Your mouth makes sure contact only when you feel the feathered thump of his pulse in his throat- you’re captivated by this carnal urge, unsure for the briefest moment if you wanted to taste him like your lover, or taste him like your prey. Perhaps you truly were his bride, and slowly those animalistic, Valyrian urges have begun to hatch.

Your lips stay there a moment, thum, thum, thum against your relaxed lips. He groans, softly then. So quiet, distant still. Awareness is beginning to form along the crevices of your affection. His mind pooling at the peaks with the fundamental understanding that he’s being loved, and it is you doing it. To awaken and respond. Not quite, not quite. Your sleepy, tired boy. So you continue your loving, delicate descent across this body you’re so incredibly fond of. To his belly, where your ability to have restraint meets it’s match. No, indeed, you completely shirk the attempt to be discreet once the softened flesh that covers his abs meet your mouth- yawning open to take in bits of flesh here and there, to suckle and lick the faint salt of sweat. The skin here is softer than, say, the expanse of his chest, thicker than that on his throat. Nothing compares to his mouth, however. Divine, that is.

No, nothing compares, and those lips, rosy- floral pink, soft like blush, so pale and delicate, part in the morning light and greet you with peaks of his perfect, pale teeth. He’s made of something else, you’re sure of it. Your mind twists like wool on a loom, attempting to understand what it is precisely that Aegon reminds you of- snow, or porcelain maybe- as your tongue dips teasingly into his bellybutton on the way further south.

When you reach the expanse between one hip and the other, that’s where things grow sensitive. It’s one of the few places where Aegon has hair, whispy soft curls of fine white hair that just nearly disappears against his skin. Tickling over your mouth as you press more kisses, mouth hovering to feel the warmth soak in. Aegon’s thigh twitches when you kiss a vein, and finally- too fast and yet too slow at once, you stare down at the gift you’ve been blessed with.

Well endowed would be the simple man’s term for it.

You were never the most well-behaved girl, and where the fright of your parents’ wrath kept you from fucking any boy who caught your youthful fancy, it didn’t mean you couldn’t look. And look you had, sneaky little eyes skittering between cracks in the walls- greedy as you watched the boys and men, some close to your age, some far older, undress. Greedy, innocent little eyes drinking up all the cocks you had seen and after long enough began to compare.

And Aegon? His cock is fucking thick.

It had frightened you, the first time you saw it. Hadn’t realized that he’d been pining so eagerly after you, the stories told of a man incapable of resisting his urges. That he’d have lied and cheated and stolen his way to you long before your wedding day had he been interested in you like that. Instead, you were met with the sort of sheer girth and shape you simply hadn’t seen in spite of your sinful curiosity. His cockhead an aggravated red, leaking precum with the urgency to have you, bulbous and veiny at the center and ever so slightly curved- not even partially hidden by the hair he has, soft and white where it gathered.

Even now, soft with sleep, you’re sure he could intimidate an experienced whore.

Without the urgent desire to stuff your cunt, he’s not so red. His cock is pretty, even. As far as a mans’ bits could be considered so. Pale like the rest of him and with the same brilliant, powdery pink at the head- not yet exposed by arousal.

You let spit begin to pool in your mouth, gathering steadily until you could lap at it with your tongue- then, slowly, you drag your spit soaked tongue up the expanse of Aegon’s cock in a long, slow stripe.

It’s all it takes, you can hear Aegon inhale heavily as you go. The feeling of his skin is soft against your tongue, ever so faintly salty- and this action alone beckons the first hefty throb of his cock. Finally waking up. Breath escapes him in a heave and you pepper kisses all the way back down, ceasing only once you find yourself nestled into the hair at the base of his shaft.

“Fuck…” It’s a groan, voice completely roughened by sleep. You can watch him clearly when you look up from where you give kitten licks that creep closer and closer to that sensitive little spot just beneath his cockhead. He’s blinking, confused, disarmed as his body shoots to awareness long before his mind manages it.

“Good morning, love.” You murmur softly, sweetly the way you would if you were kissing his cheek and petting his hair while he finally stirs against your chest. Then, without warning, you begin to take him into your mouth.

It’s taken a great deal of patience on his part, and practice on yours- and even still up to this very moment it is incredibly difficult take him completely. The saliva is a necessary aid, drooling out around around him in all the places your mouth is simply too shallow to hold, and your hand reaches out to take the rest. You only just manage to fit your fingers completely, humming with satisfaction now that you have him.

Aegon is breathing more shallowly now, the world twisting disorientingly from the dullness and dark of sleep to the overwhelmingly sharp sensation of your soft little mouth around him. He’s still not entirely sure what happened, knocked off his perch by the suddenness of everything that’s transpiring. But he can feel the soft, wet texture of your tongue wriggle against the underside of his cock, and the back of your throat constrict valiantly around his head- and all attempts at reason are thrown to the wind in favor of how his stomach drops, gut tightens and thighs lock with lightning. Head thumping heavily back against his pillow to let out a breathy ‘oh…’

It’s a reward like no other, his cock twitching heavily the moment you’d swallowed around him. One of his thighs flex beneath the steadying grip of your palm and eagerly you wonder if he’ll keep still like a good boy, or fuck your mouth like a whore. It matters not either way, you intend to take his seed into your mouth by the end of it. You intend to have him all wrung out, stones as empty as his pretty head before he even steps out the door of your shared chambers. More eagerly you bob, starting to pull yourself along him with a guttural, thick smacking noise. The taste is getting headier, saltier, your lips and his cock wetter when his own glistening pre-cum begins to contribute to your heavily salivating mouth.

“My- my girl… My pretty girl- ffff- what i-is this for, hm?” Aegon manages to choke the words past his lips, and you feel his fingers thread gently into your hair, cradling the back of your head as his breath dips from labored to shallow pants. He wasn’t prepared for this, and his end comes careening all the faster for it. No chance to exert control over himself, to draw himself out so he could fuck you good and proper like he likes.

You’d caught him by surprise, and all he can do is let out a horrible, wounded whimper when you whine around him and the vibrations make his head jerk back without his control, chin tipping up toward the sky. It’s straining his throat, tensing his belly so hard that the musculature can be seen. That tongue, pink pink pink like everything else about him, darts free to lick frantically across his lips. Wincing as you twist your own this way and that, suck deep, squeeze his base firmly.

“Hah… You’re- I’m- love I’m close, I’m so-”And as if you set out to fucking kill the man, you throw back the remaining covers, the only modesty that hides from him what you’ve been doing.

Can’t see it the way he’d like, no. But that does nothing to deter the way his arousal pools desperately with the pleasure you’ve already built up in him, captured by the sight of your hips moving frantic and shallow. He can imagine the wet stain beneath you, the way you’re trying so hard- his sweet babe- to chase after some sort of relief or friction on the mattress between his legs. Spread as wide as you can get in your position in the hopes that your clit could fetch against the sheets and zing with the pleasure you give him so readily.

When your palm slides down just a touch further, groping and massaging at his stones, it’s the final strand that breaks. He gives a strangled- desperate noise. A whiny high pitched moan that might pass as some attempt at warning you. And then his world glazes over as that contradictory awful-wonderful sensation absolutely ravages all of his nerves and all possibility to do anything except exist and writhe for you. Mouth squeezing around him, cheeks hollowing, eager licks as the distinct taste of his seed spills into your mouth.

It’s too much for you to get it all, paired with the size of him, and little droplets of pearly white spill out from the corners of your mouth when you pull away- letting him and his cock go slack against the bed. He’s watching you, half lidded and breathing in heavy puffs. Your gaze does not tear away, does not so much as waver when you wipe his seed up from your face with your fingers, sucking it off before you crawl to take your rightful place tucked against him.

His face is beyond flushed, desperately ruddy, eyes glassy and pupils shot. And he watches you with a holy sort of reverence, the kind of thing he never once spared for the Seven.

“Good morning.” He finally gets to say, voice still a bit hefty with sleep- gravelly for entirely different reasons. Your mouth parts with a curling smile reserved just for him- eager to greet him and pepper his face with kisses, and all that comes free is a whine.

His fingers, big and calloused, have taken their place against your clit. There’s no build up, nor tease. He rubs steady little circles there and smiles at the way the bud throbs. He knows he could lean back, see your cute little cunt clench and glisten. It already was, by the wet-spot he is unsurprised to see on the bed- but he wants to work you until it drips in crystalline threads down his arm.

Your brows furrow, he’s getting quicker with it now. The sensations of course, no less immediate than what you’d afforded him- just as raw and overwhelming. The difference is, Aegon has no struggle handling you the way you do him. No, not at all. You’ve a delicate little cunt, just for him. And Aegon is a man who has had women in spades- a man who has played instruments against the immense distaste of his mother his whole life. He had the sort of silver fingers that could make a whore pay him.

Yes, indeed. And you rock your hips into it. Starting to press harder now, starting to change patterns and directions- he seeks you out cleverly and unrelentingly. Trying to find that precise combination that makes you feel it in your teats, makes you tingle and writhe. Makes you try to escape him for the overwhelm of it. Those were the ones he likes, the orgasms where you’d cry from how painfully good it was, how overwhelming.

It makes you all too aware of how empty you are, now. Unfortunate though you do not regret the taste of him on your tongue, nor do you regret the way he’s looking at you- equal parts infatuation and a sort of predatory hunger.

“Did you dream of me, hm?” He says then, voice beginning to turn over as full awareness clears his eyes. “Well? My beautiful wife? Did you dream of taking your husband’s cock all night? Did you dream it would overwhelm you? That you would plead with him to stop because it was too much? That you couldn’t take another release? That you were sure it would kill you?

Is it this that got my wife from her slumber so cursedly early? Is this what drives her to suckle on her husband’s cock like the good girl she is?”

He drives his fingers inward then, groans appreciatively not only at the way you moan for him- you spread the leg you’re not supporting yourself on, open yourself submissively to him and let him see all the more vividly the way your now unattended bud is throbbing and throbbing for it. The pleasure accumulating and running tracks to your nipples, to your clit, the insides of your thighs. It burns and is cold all at once, punctuated by the way that his fingers- just two of them, are so much longer and so much thicker than your own. You could play with yourself like this for hours and simply be frustrated to tears, never reaching as deep as he does right now, fingers curling in such a way that you stammer a pleasured noise and sway into him. Overwhelmed.

“I hope that this is the reason you decided to reward me so lovingly, my dove. Because that’s what’s going to happen, now. I’m going to fuck you senseless.”

#Aegon #Aegon II Targaryen #Aegon Targaryen #Aegon II #Tom Glynn Carney #Aegon x Reader #Aegon Targaryen x Reader #Aegon II Targaryen x Reader #HoTD #House of The Dragon #HoTD x Reader #Aegon II Fanfic #Aegon II Imagine #HoTD Fanfic #HoTD Imagine #My Fic #Aegon Fic #Aegon Smut #Smut Fic

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myobsessionsspace · 1 year

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I felt the need to write this in light of soo many asks I’ve seen throughout Chapter 2

The crux of the asks that got me here are “I don’t see many moments around Jikook anymore” “We need more Jikook moments” “I don’t think Jikook are close anymore, xx/xx have more moments than them”

*credit to all original owners of art & media

I just want to share *my thoughts*...

How did we meet Jikook?

Some of you may have known of them since debut, some since Blood Sweat & Tears, HYYH era, Dynamite, Butter or even most recently in Chapter Two.

However you became aware of them, you would have also been aware of their group. The reason for their current status. To know Jikook you must in some capacity know Bangtan.

I say this because to have gotten to know Jikook, it would have been through the group using videos, Bangtan Bombs, Bon Voyages, In The Soops, concerts, all of the above, some or none at all.

(I won't mention those that only know Jikook through fanmade edited Tik Tok, fanmade YouTube edits etc.)

We learned more about them as idols, as members, as friends and as brothers. All of what we learnt we learnt with the approval of either the members or their company.

The only other ways to have learnt about them without either theirs or their company’s approval, would have either been through paparazzi, stalker/sasaeng info, fictitious YouTube videos, rumours, guesses and assumptions.

Unless it came from the members directly, from their company, interviews, their music or their filmed content, it wasn’t meant for public consumption. It was most likely not in the members best interest and not in their control.

Now I’m not going to judge our consumption of the above mentioned ‘unapproved’ content. I myself have enjoyed and shared many sighting photos, concert videos, stories from people that had met them etc.

For example when Jikook were spotted heading to Tokyo, prior to that, their private schedule had actually been released, allowing some to know that the two of them had indeed planned to travel alone. They're private concert viewings of other idols & groups, their private cinema and dinner outing and more. This was enjoyable information for jikook fans, supporters and shippers to know but also scary information for the two’s safety, when in the wrong hands.

After their return from their private Tokyo trip that Jungkook organised and paid for as a gift to Jimin, Jungkook published a beautifully directed, edited and produced video of their trip. His first ever Golden Closet Film. On his terms we got full in colour, with meaningful (the permission to use Troye Sivan's song, again paid for by Jungkook) background music, a glimpse of their private trip, through Jungkook’s artistic eye. He shared with us his perspective of what he saw and how he felt felt during their private trip.

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I give GCF Tokyo as an example, when we wait for THEM to show US, we get soo much more than 144p blurry images, mistranslations etc.

We get it straight from them, exactly how they see it or how they want us to see it, exactly how they feel it, or how they want us to feel it.

How do we stay with Jikook now?

They are on group hiatus, meaning we just had the last of the Run Bts’ for a while. Bangtan Bombs are now focused on solo endeavours not the group as a whole, to see the group dynamics at present, no group concerts, videos, interviews etc.

Therefore we no longer have company approved content. We still however get member approved content, such as when they go on live, Weverse interactions, music etc.

We still get ‘unapproved content’ such as stalker/sasaeng footage, paparazzi pictures & info, fictitious YouTube videos, rumours, guesses and assumptions.

However with the group just recently celebrating their 10th year anniversary, they are no longer new to idol life, they have learnt from their past, they have reduced their circle. They have increased their security, they are internationally known and more recognisable even with hats, masks & baggy clothes. They also have more money and access now, access to private jets, private rooms, private villas or even just getting whatever they want or need to the privacy of their own homes, no longer shared with a 7 member team.

They no longer have to leave the dorms for a change of scenery, after touring the world, after sharing a form for years, staying home could be said to be their change of scenery at times.

So it’s understandable that the ‘unapproved content’ would be massively reduced in comparison to if they had embarked on Chapter Two 5 years ago.

So we no longer have a lot of company approved content (yes of solo endeavours but rarely of more than 2 members at a time and rarely repeatedly), we don’t have as much ‘unapproved’ content.

What do we the consumers have left?

What the members show us and what the members tell us.

What have the members have shown us/told us?

Since Chapter 2 Jungkook has shown us that he had initially been enjoying down time. Rightfully deserves after training and working since the age of 13/14!

He went through puberty working in the public eye, away from home, away from his parents. Most westerners know how that turns out for some child stars. Bleak. Jungkook has shown the strength of his character by being able to maintain his humility, joy, humour, care for others & love for ARMY.

We know about his down time due to him sharing this with us through his weverse lives. Straight from him, not the company, not sasaengs but him. And we enjoyed it! We love our hours long late night lives with Jungkook. We’ve gone boxing with him, eaten fried chicken with him, sang & danced with him and even most recently had him fall asleep with us TWICE!

Isn’t content straight from the members soo much sweeter?

Jimin, whilst Jungkook was having his down time, was flying all over the globe and in and out of the company's studios & offices. He was having intense music camp like periods with producers and practicing for his solo debut. He didn’t share with us more than a couple of pictures here and there with different producers, but when he did launch his FACE promo and subsequent videos & album, we were and still are GAGGED. Jimin KILLED K-POP in 2023 and DOMINATED (and still is) the industry.

The wait well worth it and we LIVE still!

Jikook

Though the loss of official content for some feels like a Jikook drought, some feel like the loss of official content somehow now means the loss of Jikook’s bond, relationship, whatever you may believe it to be.

Some feel as though the lack of official Jikook means they never were all they felt them to have been. There are a number of things I have seen and heard in regards to Jikook since Chapter 2.

But what have JIKOOK themselves shown us. As I said before, aside from ‘unapproved’ content, which is severely reduced as the members are older, smarter, richer and wiser, we can really only truly rely on the members themselves.

Jungkook

With his downtime, as I said earlier, shared his boxing training, his eating, drinking, watching tv and sleeping with us.

However what did Jikook share with us when Jungkook was boxing?

What did Jungkook share with us when singing?

What did Jungkook share with us on white day?

How sweet was it to see his face light up with each of his interactions with Jimin? How fun was it to watch him stan over Jimin’s music? How cute was if to watch him uwu over Jimin’s interviews?

Jimin

We know had been super busy in being involved with every aspect of his solo debut.

His solo music was and is soo important to him. It was his priority in Chapter 2. However he never failed to show his support with his presence via the comments on MANY of Jungkook’s lives.

Not only that but the biggest gift to ARMY, Jikook supporters and Jungkook was Jungkook’s presence on an album that Jimin clearly stated in multiple interviews had no features. Jungkook’s name is in the credits and his do ring voice cannot be denied, but apart from the credits and the vocals, Jimin has never mentioned Jungkook’s participation.

I guess they really mean it when they say ‘You are Me & I am You’

Letter to *me* is Jimin’s GCF Tokyo. A labour of love, showing us the thoughts, feelings and emotions, this time not through video but through song.

What Jungkook & Jimin have shown us in Chapter two is MORE than enough for me, it’s just as sweet and even sweeter than any ‘unapproved’ or approved content.

If you still need more from them, that is not for their benefit, with their interests in mind or to cement their bond/relationship. That is your issue to deal with.

Whenever you feel like you need ‘more’ from Jikook than they’ve already allowed you to have, go back and watch their labour of love GCF Tokyo (heck pretty much all of the GCFs including Saipan), go back and listen to their labour of love ‘Letter’, go back and read their interviews.

youtube

If all of that is still not enough, it’s a you problem.

Not a them problem.

🖤🤍

#Jikook #Jungkook #Jimin #jimin and jungkook #Chapter 2 #Chapter Two #Where are the Jikook moments #Jikook are not close anymore #Youtube

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matan4il · 4 months

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Amin al-Husseini docu: part 4

A bit of background on Edy Mor:

He published an autobiography in 2016, titled (in Hebrew) One Thousand Nights and A Day: Farhud and Zionism in Baghdad.

In his book, he recounts the history of his family, which lived in an Iranian city called Urmia, where in 1915 the Ottoman Empire (Turks) massacred the local Armenian minority (as part of the Armenian genocide), as well as the small Jewish community of just 1,000 people. Most were killed, a lot of Jewish property was looted, women and girls were raped. The survivors fled to Iraq, with almost no money or property, and met with a lot of animosity from the locals, who didn't like the newly arrived "immigrants." Edy's parents were the kids from two neighboring Jewish families in Urmia, who had survived and fled to Iraq together.

Edy was 5 years old in 1941. He recalls the unrest in Baghdad even before the Farhud (Arab violent riots against the local Iraqi Jews, mainly in Baghdad, inspired by antisemitic propaganda from the Nazis and the Mufti) started. Jewish homes were marked with red paint in the shape of a hand print. The Newspaper he mentions in the above clip, which published daily Hitler's antisemitic manifesto and so-called autobiography Mein Kampf, is Al-Aalem Al-Arabi, a newspaper purchased by the Mufti thanks to Nazi financial aid. In reaction to the unrest, Edy's parents decided to store all of their merchandise in their home, since they thought once the violence would break out, it would be aimed at Jewish owned shops, and they wanted to protect their livelihood. But when the Farhud started, on the even of the Jewish holiday of Shavu'ot, the mob targeted both Jewish shops and homes, and the family's property ended up being looted from their own living room. Edy shares how, when the riots began, he happened to be in a car with his family on their way home, and he saw how the Arabs stopped the car driving in front of him, pulled out its Jewish passengers, and slaughtered them right in front of his eyes. After surviving this massacre, Edy's already Zionist family became determined to get permission to leave Iraq for Israel. They made it here in 1950.

This is Edy with his father Ya'akov as a kid in Baghdad:

(also, just a small reminder that Jews are Middle Eastern, not white, no matter what our skin color looks like, and Edy is another example)

A bit of background on Ezra Yachin can be found with part 3.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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writingquestionsanswered · 7 months

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Writer Torn Between MC's Two Worlds

king-ofconfusion asked: I'm struggling with my story's ordinary world. The MC discovers they're from a magical world and finds their original family, but I'm not sure what to do with the MC's adoptive family. He's 20 and in college, so it's not like he needs permission to leave or there's anything blocking him from going, but I feel weird having him abandon the world he was raised in, and I don't feel like he'd lie to his loved ones about his other life. Having him tell his adoptive mom the truth and "peace out" feels very flat.

[ask heavily edited for length and content]

I see a lot of different options here...

1 - Outright Honesty/Peace Out - I don't think this is such a weird idea, actually. I have heard of international adoptees locating their birth family as an adult and leaving their adoptive country to return to their homeland/birth family. Whether or not they maintain contact and visits with their birth family depends on the relationship, but many do. On that same note, Outlander comes to mind, where there's all sorts of back and forth between worlds with the intention of never returning (of course, they always inadvertently do), but there are fated couples who "part forever" out of necessity, parents and children who "part forever" out of necessity, friends and family members who "part forever" out of necessity... and if it's good enough for a book series that has sold 50-million copies worldwide and is the basis of a popular TV series, you're in good shape. So, I think the honesty/"I need to return to my homeland" option is perfectly reasonable, especially if they can promise to keep in touch and/or visit.

2 - Necessary White Lie/Cover Story - If you're worried about the MC lying to their ordinary world family because it's out of character or you're not a fan of this kind of lie, you could always make it a necessary lie. For example, maybe the MC is warned that this fantasy can't be revealed to ordinary world dwellers. Or, maybe the MC is simply afraid that his family might sacrifice everything and follow them into the fantasy world, face danger, etc. You can definitely come up with a reason. And then being at college provides the perfect cover story. If the character can travel between worlds, you could even have them periodically return for a few days to catch up on homework, sit in on important lectures/exams, or zoom through online classes. Maybe they say they're taking half a course load so they can intern somewhere (and maybe here you can work whatever they're doing in the fantasy world into something that sounds like an applicable ordinary world job they could be shadowing). I think with some brainstorming, there are good options here.

3 - Ordinary Family is From Magical World - Another option, if it would work, would be for the adoptive "ordinary world" family to actually be from the magical world. If it would work with the MC's birth story and whatever led to them being placed in the fantasy world, maybe instead of being placed with an ordinary world family, they were sent to the ordinary world with a magical world family who is just waiting for them to be old enough to return to their rightful place. Or, you could even hybrid a little here, and maybe the MC was sent with a magical world adoptive mom or dad to the ordinary world, and there the magical world parent met an ordinary world love interest, and they started an ordinary world family together. That way, the MC's family can already have a foot in both worlds, and you can have the ordinary world parent already know the situation. That way, the MC can return to the magical world, but maybe communicate through the other family member (who maybe can travel back and forth or has powers that allows for the communication, or whatever.) Again, lots of possibilities.

I hope something here will work for you! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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moumouton4 · 11 months

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Orochimaru with an s/o who has a very animalistic way of showing affection? Love bites, growling, being possessive. That sorta thing. Thanks :)

Having A S/o With An Animalistic Way Of Showing Affection || Orochimaru x reader

A/n : Hello pumpkin ! I thank you a lot for this idea, because now it adds to my personnal hc for Oorchimaru. I'm sure he'll fucking love it 🍧✨

Warnings : no mention of gender for reader, biting, hickeys, possessivity, growling, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 587

What had drawn his to you - despite your godly body - was your strength and resilience

You were a fierce fighter and he found incredibly attracting the way you were able to display your strength in such untamed manner

You looked completely blood thirsty and he it awakened something within him

Soon after you started dating, Orochimaru encouraged to move in with him in his hideout. He wanted to have you close to him

Though he didn’t expect at all what he discovered about you then

He was really surprised to find out that the ferocity you displayed during fights didn’t come out of nowhere

You had indeed a very specific and animalistic way of showing your emotions. And affection and love were part of them

Orochimaru staying true to himself couldn’t help but be entranced by your mannerism. He’d lie if he were to say that your actions don’t most of time give him a hard on

It had a stark contrast with the way you looked - very fancy and clean - and the rawness your love was displaying

The pale skin of his and collarbone were almost always decorated with purplish loves bites you’d let in your track

And you didn't necessarily have to make love for them to appear there

You liked to sit straddling his lap no matter where he was before dipping in and planting a hickey on his skin

He always scolds you because it flusters him to think that people might think he's submissive. When in reality, it's because of him that these marks are there.

Either because he's fucking you hard and you need to bite something. Or because he's so perfect you want to keep him all to yourself

On your side it fueled you to know that others could see those marks on her body. A sign that he was taken

But the proportion of visible marks is only 5%. Nobody knew how his thighs and hips were bruised by your lips. And how passionately you sucked the skin of his torso or stomach to form a small colored stain

He's also very territorial and appreciates some of your gestures

For example, when someone you consider a rival comes too close, you grab hold of his waist and he can hear you growl lowly. He'd be willing to bet that if the person in question got too close, you'd chew his throat out with your teeth

He loves hearing your growl in his ear. Makes him want to fuck you right here and right now. And he really thinks that if you continue like this he is not going to be able to hold back

Somehow when you make love you both manage to understand the meaning of each others growl. It can be a “faster please” or an “I’m close”

You also always keep contact with him. Either clutching his arm or holding his hand

It really reassures him with his insecurities to see that you react like that next to him. And he trusts you blindly because he knows you have no filter when you express your emotions

The only moment your affection is shown a bit less wild is during your afterglow. You nestle your body close to his and enjoy the warmth of his skin - yes warmth because snakes are warm after mating

While his fingers run through your hair in a soothing motion or rub slow circles on your ass cheeks you pepper his body with open mouth kisses

A/n : I hope you guys liked it ! 🍙🍣 Again my requests are open 🥞🍳

Taglist : @foxxymunson, @cl0vr, @ilovemanypeople, @glossy1pearl, @jane57sstuff

#naruto #naruto imagine #naruto smut #naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden smut #orochimaru #orochimaru smut #orochimaru x reader #orochimaru x reader smut #orochimaru imagine #request #smut #miri-writes

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lucaaaaaaaaaaaa · 3 months

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Watching fantasy high and i had a thought.

I noticed there was an idea about diety and religion kind of baked into the theology of Brendan's world building that made me wonder about religion in real life. And that is the idea that the goal of religious practice is to find The Religion and The Diety that you commit to forever and vice versa. It's baked into the mechanics of how the existence of dieties work. Gods need worshippers to exist, which would motivate them to be possessive and demand loyalty. The no-telling-about-dead-gods law is a good example of this. Gods don't share, and you can't change religions.

The idea kind of stands out because it feels familar. I realized it mirrors how we think of God in western culture. The idea of a jealous, possessive God is very prevalent in our culture maybe even fundamental. When I thought about ancient religions with big pantheons I kind of imagined people would pick one diety to be their diety and specifically only worship them forever even if they believed other gods existed, the way Christians treat the christian God. But I realized that was because my understanding of religious practice comes from a Christian background. God is a jealous God is a Christian/Jewish/Islamic idea.

Realizing that kind of brought it into question. I wondered what an alternative would be like. Maybe a better system for human beings would be to allowed more flexibility. It's natural to move through life and change and evolve. A lot of people might need different things and different times in their life. Maybe you need Jesus at one point but then later in life you need the Tao. Maybe you need the Moon Goddess at one point, but experience something you need permission to rage about.

Using the context of Fantasy High as an analogy, maybe it would make more sense if deities were allowed to actively share. Why couldn't they pass along worshippers who needed more doubt in their life to Cassandra? Why couldn't a God aks if their worshipper needed something different and try to help them find that? (Of course, mechanics come into question here but Im guessing those mechanics happened because of Sir Terry Pratchett. But that's another conversation.)

In the real world I think this is just as relevant. What if expecting one religion to work for a person forever is not a healthy expectation? Maybe there are people who would fit in as Christians forever. But maybe there are a lot of people who don't. What could be possible if we had a concept of flexibility in religious practice and belief? Why do we expect gods to be possessive?

Also makes me wonder. Whose idea was it to create that law in Fantasy High that forces the Gods to compete all the more fiercely? 🤔

#fantasy #fantasy high #brennan lee mulligan #bad kids #gods #goddesses #pagan #paganism #christianity #theology #dnd #d&d #religion #exmo #dimension 20 #literature #monotheism #pantheism

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gatheringbones · 2 years

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[“The reason it is possible to imagine property as a relationship of domination between a person and a thing is because, in Roman Law, the power of the master rendered the slave a thing (res, meaning an object), not a person with social rights or legal obligations to anyone else. Property law, in turn, was largely about the complicated situations that might arise as a result. It is important to recall, for a moment, who these Roman jurists actually were that laid down the basis for our current legal order – our theories of justice, the language of contract and torts, the distinction of public and private and so forth. While they spent their public lives making sober judgments as magistrates, they lived their private lives in households where they not only had near-total authority over their wives, children and other dependants, but also had all their needs taken care of by dozens, perhaps hundreds of slaves.

Slaves trimmed their hair, carried their towels, fed their pets, repaired their sandals, played music at their dinner parties and instructed their children in history and maths. At the same time, in terms of legal theory these slaves were classified as captive foreigners who, conquered in battle, had forfeited rights of any kind. As a result, the Roman jurist was free to rape, torture, mutilate or kill any of them at any time and in any way he had a mind to, without the matter being considered anything other than a private affair. (Only under the reign of Tiberius were any restrictions imposed on what a master could do to a slave, and what this meant was simply that permission from a local magistrate had to be obtained before a slave could be ripped apart by wild animals; other forms of execution could still be imposed at the owner’s whim.) On the one hand, freedom and liberty were private affairs; on the other, private life was marked by the absolute power of the patriarch over conquered people who were considered his private property.

The fact that most Roman slaves were not prisoners of war, in the literal sense, doesn’t really make much difference here. What’s important is that their legal status was defined in those terms. What is both striking and revealing, for our present purposes, is how in Roman jurisprudence the logic of war – which dictates that enemies are interchangeable, and if they surrendered they could either be killed or rendered ‘socially dead’, sold as commodities – and, therefore, the potential for arbitrary violence was inserted into the most intimate sphere of social relations, including the relations of care that made domestic life possible. Thinking back to examples like the ‘capturing societies’ of Amazonia or the process by which dynastic power took root in ancient Egypt, we can begin to see how important that particular nexus of violence and care has been. Rome took the entanglement to new extremes, and its legacy still shapes our basic concepts of social structure.

Our very word ‘family’ shares a root with the Latin famulus, meaning ‘house slave’, via familia, which originally referred to everyone under the domestic authority of a single paterfamilias or male head of household. Domus, the Latin word for ‘household’, in turn gives us not only ‘domestic’ and ‘domesticated’ but dominium, which was the technical term for the emperor’s sovereignty as well as a citizen’s power over private property. Through that we arrive at (literally, ‘familiar’) notions of what it means to be ‘dominant’, to possess ‘dominion’ and to ‘dominate’.”]

david graeber and david wengrow, the dawn of everything: a new history of humanity, 2021

#david graeber #history stuff #currently reading

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autisticlifelessons · 9 months

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Tips for helping your autistic child thrive at home

So, I'm not a parent myself, but I did grow up in a household where both myself and my sibling (both AFAB) had undiagnosed autism, and we're pretty sure our father is autistic, too. I've also got some teaching experience where I supported neurodivergent children and their families. Based on this experience and my own research, here are some tips you can use at home to help your autistic child thrive. These are biased towards my particular experience and may not apply to your own child, but they should give you an idea of the sorts of things you can do.

Give lots of emotional reassurance - the world is seriously overwhelming for an autistic child. Children's brains are still developing, and the younger they are or the greater their needs are the more help they will need with co-regulation of their emotions. Bear in mind that, especially for AFAB children, they may mask heavily at school and present absolutely no behavoural problems only to come home and explode. This is because home is their safe place where they can show more authentically how they are really feeling.

Be led by your child's needs and interests, and be prepared for these to change over time - many autistic people develop intense interests in specific things, which are known as 'special interests'. The stereotypical special interests most people have heard of are things like trains, but be aware that some girls who are really, REALLY into ponies are actually expressing neurodivergent traits. Showing your support for exploring these interests is hugely beneficial (and makes present buying a breeze lol). Of course, autism is a spectrum and presents differently in different autistic people. Many like the structure of a routine, for example, but don't force a visual timetable on your child if this is clearly something that isn't helping them. As your child gets older, their interests and needs will change with them, so be prepared to adapt and keep the lines of communication open.

Be prepared to give your child extra support navigating friendships and social situations - for many autistic people, social situations are highly stressful for lots of different reasons, and for children who are still learning how to navigate in the world this is doubly true. Encourage your child to develop friendships with others who respect them, but accept that they may not always communicate in ways that are socially expected (eg they may prefer parallel play). Autistic children can sometimes be more vulnerable to bullying or being taken advantage of, so ensure your child knows how to communicate boundaries and what to do if another child (or adult) is causing problems. In more general social situations such as going to the doctor or on holiday, your child may be more anxious and unsure of what is expected of them. Practicing these situations before hand through 'make believe' play is a great way of giving them a chance to develop the appropriate social scripts and feel more at ease.

Be aware that co-morbid conditions are often present alongside autism - it is very common that autistic children will have at least one other physical or mental co-morbid condition (basically means it occurs alongside). My sibling, for example, also has ADHD, PTSD, BPD, anorexia, dyscalculia, anxiety, depression, IBS, anaemia, eczema and insomnia (and yes I DID get permission to share that, it's all in their insta bio anyway). Be on the lookout for other symptoms not necessarily covered by autism and advocate for your child to get the support they need. Another thing to bear in mind is that autism often runs in families - if you or your child's other biological parent recognise traits either in yourselves or in family members, there's probably a reason why.

I really hope my tips were useful to you. As I mentioned already, your child may have very different support needs from me. You know them best.

Follow me for more tips - both for autistic adults and teenagers and parents of autistic children.

#autism #autistic tips #actually autistic #autistic #autistic child #parenting #children #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #neurodiverse #special education #autistic parenting #education #families #audhd

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