Draw me a map
to Euphoria Falls
In lines drawn long
with fingers on skin

Chart out its valleys
and steep elevations
The lowlands
& midlands
& highlands

Your pen is skilled,
your ink a generous flow
Each stroke marks out territories
that only you know

Your gift is cartography
and I am your paper
Make me your map
of our explorations
  • TC: *wakes up and wraps his arm tightly around me, pulling me up against him*
  • TC: I broke you last night.
  • TC: *singing* ...and if you cry-y I'm gonna push it some mo-o-ore...
  • TC: You needed that. You needed that release.
  • me: *breathing deeply with gratitude and arousal*
  • me: Yes I did, thank you :)




Lights off, curtains opened; naked against the front picture window and bracing my hands on the glass. That just happened.

me: ….wow…just….I love the way you commanded me.
TC: You really fought me!
me: You really pushed back.
TC: Mmhm.
me: Thank you…I love that. I need you to.

To feel small, hedged in by your control, when I usually feel stretched so far by daily life

To feel vulnerable, the rush of having my guard stripped away reminding me I’m alive

To feel challenged, moving out past the usual boundaries that can dull the senses

To let go again, more, trusting that you’ve got this, you’ve got me, and us

To feel your strength and know there is something else beyond me—that I am not the be-all and end-all, but also the sweet joy that my limitations are just that: mine, and there is so much more to feel and know in the space beyond my uncertainty and the walls I keep up

….

I don’t know, i wish I could say more and say it better but I’m a bit dazed…….



scarletsrealmagic:

Yesterday was a no-good, terrible, really bad day. The energy from people (a person) near me became toxic, and as a result, by day’s end I felt poisoned.

Then Roman came home.

He told me in no uncertain terms what I was and was not to do relative to this person. I listened to him with a furrow between my brows, unable to stop frowning. As he talked, my face uncrinkled. I was so relieved to not think anymore. I’d been thinking in circles all day long, and making ruts in my brain. Anxiety was making me ill.

He even told me to stop crying. And made me say, “yes, sir,” through my tears.

I stopped thinking. I stopped crying. I went to sleep.

This moment brought to you by the D/s for Mental Health Society.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. 



decepticun:

Untitled | by berserker...

In my heart I live here.

decepticun:

Untitled | by berserker...

In my heart I live here.



thevintaquarian:

autumn on the breeze by manyfires on Flickr.
Autumn breeze in Iowa…

<3 <3 <3

thevintaquarian:

autumn on the breeze by manyfires on Flickr.

Autumn breeze in Iowa…

<3 <3 <3

(via soul-chronicles)



It’s been a hellish weekend here, I hope you all are faring better than I these last two days. 

One of many things on the list of To Do’s  yesterday was to attend a friend’s wedding. We’d already scheduled a sitter and all the whatnots. TC called me as he was leaving a rehearsal and said I had 10 minutes to get ready. 

He walked in the door, saw what I’d put on, shook his head that it was not gonna fly, and as I stripped it off he told me how worn out he was feeling and he really didn’t want to go at all.

"Good, me neither :)"

I’d laid out several things, skirts, tops, dresses, and as he looked over them he said, “Honestly? I really don’t like any of your clothes. I think we should toss them out.”

"OK." I don’t think he expected me to agree with so little resistance. I did have a condition though. I asked if he’d help me choose all new clothes when the time came. 

"I don’t like that idea," he answered, "because every time I’ve mentioned something I like, either you veto it immediately, or you say you don’t like it just as I’m about to point out that I do."

I’m not sure this is 100% true, but it is probably mostly true. But here’s something I’ve realized about myself in the last little while: I don’t believe I deserve to have nice, feminine close that make me look good. I was bullied horribly for most of my school career, and clothes were one of the many ways I was attacked. It didn’t matter what I did, it was never good enough. If I actually wore something everyone else was wearing, I was called a poser, and their dislike of me rose to a level of vile hatred that I would dare toe one of the many arbitrary lines that separated me from them. But it wasn’t until recently that I saw how that has shaped my own hatred for dressing well, or where the source of my discomfort in wearing nice things came from. I learned to believe that I didn’t deserve it, so I stopped trying. 

Y’all, I don’t even know how to style my own hair. Give me a comb, bueno. Messy bun? Check. Don’t ask me to do anything else. I mean I can DO other things but I cannot look at myself in the mirror and believe that it is ok.

Anyway back to last night. I expected him to resist but I need him. It’s so much more than a cute fantasy anymore. I need his eyes, his opinions, his preferences. I replied, “Well, you don’t even like any of my clothes so I clearly don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I trust your judgement, I know you have good taste. I value your opinion and I want to look good for you. Please help me choose my clothes.”

He countered with his own condition. “Ok, but you have to put all your insecurities aside, all of them, and be willing to try on whatever I choose, no matter what you think it might look like.”

"Done." 

He watched me for a moment, maybe watching to see my resolve flinch or flicker. Then he told me to start holding things up for him, to either keep or toss. We tossed most of it. 

If you’ve never gone through something like this, I wish I had the time and presence of mind to describe to you how honored, how delighted in and cared for I felt as he reclined on one elbow on our bed, and that with a single movement of his head in either direction he let me know what he thought was or wasn’t good for me.

We gathered up the pile that accumulated, tossed it in a large bag to be donated, and then he took me shopping.







notnumbersix:

Do you know that feeling you get when you’re with someone for the first time? It’s the unknown; anticipation about what will happen next, and wondering what the other person could possibly have in store for you. Your heart races and your breathing quickens. What’s going to happen?

Don’t ask me. Just tell me. Tell me what you’re going to do to me. Tell me what you want and then make it happen. Tell me with your words and your hands and your body. Make me keep my eyes closed and keep me guessing. 

I want you to think:What shall I do to her? What have I always wanted to try?And then I want you to do it. Don’t be afraid. You can trust me to stop you and I know you’ll never hurt me. Just try something new; keep me guessing. Surprise me.

—————

I wrote this for my husband a few months ago. He needs to believe at gut-level that I want this. I tell him, describe it to him, in a lot of different ways. This is one of them.

Uuhh….YEAH.







Anonymous: Sweetie, your posts are few these days and so I wanted to check in and ask if you are ok? -showme-teachme-makeme


You sweet woman <3 Thank you for asking. 

Life is in a bit of limbo right now; we’ve had multiple surgeries and hospital trips and gluten contaminations and summer busyness and existential crises on several planes. Tumblr is not something I can really invest in at the moment, but I have things I want to post, I just can’t get to it. Apologies to you (I still will be posting your earlier msg) and to those who have sent me msgs, tagged me in posts, and generally tried to get me to come to the party. I’m having to be quite responsible at the moment and be selective in what I invest my time and why. 

I’m flying by night here for now, trying to stay up to speed with you all but I’m only catching lights off in the distance periodically.  <3 




Jenny Lewis - Just One Of The Guys [Official Music Video]

Because Kristen Stewart and Anne Hathaway… Mmmf