Make Me Choose » Anonymous Asked: Robert Baratheon Or Stannis Baratheon? 

 "Now I know something you don’t", Mt Hope Cemetery, Rochester NY

--I feel so sad looking at pics of younger Bret. He's been through so much in his life.. but in these photos none of the bad things he endured has happened to him.

He deserved better. ❤️‍🩹

Fav boytoy. <3

♡♡♡

To be just, to be fair, and to be bold, was to be a woman. To be a survivor, was to be a Stark.

So we’ve all established that Simon is a dom king. Hear me out here, what if one day you miraculously manage to convince him to let you ride him, and he miraculously concedes. And the entire time, he’s making fun of you. “Oh is my pet too tired?” And even if you try and prove your point by grinding down on him harder, his breath barely stutters before his big strong hands wrap almost entirely around your waist, and slam you down onto him. “Can’t get off without me can you?” And he’s just teasing you constantly, making fun of you, reminding you that it doesn’t matter what you try, he’s always in control, and he’s the only one that can make you cum.

I’m simping so fucking hard for this man, I want him to choke me and just kill me tbh

YOU’RE KILLING ME! My god yes, he would be such a little shit if he ever lets you take control.

Simon’s not trying to discourage you, no. He thinks it’s cute when you get pent up, aggressive with your teeth bared, wanting to be on top for a change. So he lets you; though, a major part of the reason (nothing he’d admit) is for the inevitable amusement he’ll derive when you realise you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. He’s big in missionary, but in cowgirl? He’s practically fucking your guts.

Your breath stutters when you’re halfway down; already, you’re stretched beyond what you can handle. Usually, Ghost is there to rub your clit and ease the tension in your muscles, but hey, you’re in charge, pet. That’s up to you now.

So you swallow your tears and press your hands to his wide chest, balancing yourself on your haunches as his throbbing cock splits you open. You’ve lost the plot, can’t even muster the focus to command him. Simon sees it in your quivering thighs, the sweat that plasters your hair to your forehead. He knows you’re sorely regretting this, and hell if he doesn’t take the opportunity to tease you relentlessly for it.

‘Something the matter?’ and ‘C’mon now, be a big girl.’ All the while, you’re close to collapsing, situating yourself fully on him, his balls pressed tight to the dip of your ass. He can’t deny that it feels good; you’re impossibly tighter like this, sucking him in like a soaked vacuum. But after one, two, three thrusts, you’re finally sobbing - begging him to just flip you over and fuck you properly.

Who is he to refuse?

𝖵𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗉 🐑

via bopeep_valaisblacknose

All my grief says the same thing— this isn't how it's supposed to be. And the world laughs, holds my hope by my throat, says: but this is how it is.

Fortesa Latifi, The Truth About Grief