#is that just because you feel you're doing good doesn't mean you ARE good

[platoapproved]

finished reading komarr this morning and honestly folks, it's an emma situation, it's an "if i loved it less i might be able to talk about it more" situation with this book.

idk it's just such a lovely thing to be reading a story and it feels like it was tailor-made for your brain and your heart and the things that make you go absolutely feral. this is the first romance in the series that fucking HIT. like what if you'd been trapped in a shitty marriage for more than a decade with a man who made you into a smaller and smaller and smaller version of yourself, and he was always so proud and fragile ego-ed that he refused your help but still left you to clean up the messes he made with his incompetence. and just as you're realizing you can't take any more of it, this weird charming little dude shows up and you want to be cold to him but you can't manage because he talks to you like you're a real person and no one has done that in ages. and he's clever and damaged and you sit on a park bench with him while he has a panic attack and he doesn't try to hide how vulnerable it makes him feel and just says thank you. and later he takes his shirt off and he's COVERED in scars. and then later your horrible husband dies of his own incompetence and you are the one who shows up to rescue the weird charming little dude who got kidnapped along with your husband. and you keep on saving him and realize it's making you feel big again. DO YOU SEE? DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN? I CAN'T EVEN TALK ABOUT IT NORMALLY IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD.

[redshiftsinger]

Celebrities are human beings with weird jobs.

Like any group of human beings, the demographic "celebrities" contains both good people and assholes. Which can be further broken down into "good people whose good-person-ness is easy to see", "cranky/blunt but with a heart of gold under the rough exterior", "people who are mostly good-intentioned but often kinda fucking clueless", "people who are kind of assholes sometimes but not in any really serious ways, just like, interpersonally rude", "people who deliberately exploit others for personal gain", and "psychopaths who manage to convincingly pretend to be good people for years or even decades before the general public finds out they're actually psychopaths". And a bunch more shades of nuance.

Every single celebrity is just One Person and every individual person's actions are the actions of that one person, not of the demographic they belong to. Gaiman's actions are his own responsibility, not anyone else's unless they willfully, knowingly enabled. And he had a lot of people fooled for a very long time. Just because someone worked with him in the past doesn't mean they knew and kept it quiet. Abusers very often don't let most of the people they interact with day to day know about the abuse they engage in. It's kept quiet, it's hidden behind lies and omissions and the pretense of being A Good Person Who Would Never. Because they know it's wrong and unacceptable and that being caught at it would suck for them.

Remember that you don't (or might not) really know celebrities you're a fan of, you only see the face they show to the public. How much that's like the person they are in private varies wildly -- and having a public persona that's kept very separate from their personal life doesn't necessarily mean they're a bad person, it might just mean they like their privacy. Like, I don't know Dolly Parton but I would assume she's probably genuinely a good person. And also, I know I probably wouldn't even be able to recognize her if I saw her out of her Public Persona, because she goes to greater lengths than most celebrities to preserve her ability to move through public spaces unrecognized when she wants to, and her Persona includes a whole look, not just behavior and mannerisms. Some pretend to be very open about their personal life while actually most of what they show is a facade. Some are very reclusive and preserve their privacy by simply not appearing in public. And some are actually relatively open books. It's just another area in which the entire spectrum of human preference and choice can be represented. But anyway, odds are, you don't know them just because you've watched every interview they've ever done and met them at fan events a few times. Those are Public Persona settings.

And even if you do know them, even if they're actually very open-book types, they still don't know you and aren't your friend, no matter how you feel about them. And it's always healthy to keep perspective on that. Parasocial relationships aren't inherently bad, but they can become a problem for your mental health if you pin too much onto them. They're not meant to be load-bearing the way actual friendships are.

also. re: neil gaiman. for all the people wondering, "what if the celebrity I like turns out to be like him?" I just want to say a few more things-

now is a good time to evaluate your relationships with celebrities or internet personalities. this is just like, a healthy thing to do in general; I do it on a regular basis when considering the celebrities whose work I like. take a minute to think about how you feel about those people, and ask yourself how personal your attachment is to them. if you feel attached to them as you would a friend, family member, or partner, you may need to confront that.

if a celebrity you like turns out to have done something reprehensible, that doesn't make you a bad person for liking them in the past. you likely didn't know. if you loved neil gaiman's writing, and even if you still do, you don't have to feel guilty about it. however, you may want to reevaluate continuing to support them financially.

I deliberately said "celebrities whose work I like" earlier, because that's an important distinction to make- a celebrity's work is just their job. you can admire their work, and it can be very important to you, but at the end of the day, they are not their work. people will talk about "separating the art from the artist" when someone does something awful like gaiman, but I think this might even apply to celebrities you admire. for instance, I'm a big fan of tom waits' music. he has a very entertaining stage persona and is an extremely talented artist. as far as I'm aware, tom waits hasn't had any major controversies. but even so, it's important for me to remember that I adore tom waits' artistry, not tom waits himself. I do not want to become personally attached to someone I do not know.

just because neil gaiman did something awful, or because any number of celebrities did something awful, doesn't mean that you should be automatically suspicious of the ones that don't have allegations against them. it does mean that you should be wary of how you should attach to them, but it doesn't do to be paranoid about, for example, david tennant, because you were wounded by neil gaiman's actions. it does mean that you shouldn't form a parasocial attachment to david tennant (or anyone else), but it doesn't mean that he's also secretly an abuser, too.

[wetpussyju1ce]

Awkward Alpha könig x Omega fem reader (smaller than König)

+18. mdni

big awkward Alpha König with the prettiest Omega in town as his girlfriend. he didn't even ask her out. she's the one who decided he'd be the perfect boyfriend and told him he should take her out. and he was too stunned to say anything so he nodded and that's how it went down.

he's not sure how he ended up with her. everyone is convinced he somehow blackmailed or threatened her to date him. considering their worrying size difference. I mean, it's not that she's the size of a doll, she's of an okay height, it's him that's fucking massive for no apparent reason. how his mum even pushed him out is scary to think about sometimes. but his gf doesn't give a shit that he's giant looking. all she cares about is that he's happy with her and that she's happy with him.

he does anything and everything she tells him to. he cleans things, fixes things, cooks whatever she asks if he has time and energy. and it's not like she treats him as a servant. she's just so in tune with him that's she quickly realised that he really likes doing things for her. it makes him feel useful. and she also realised that he really likes it when she praises him for it. gives him rewards for doing what she asked. it may be taking him out on a date somewhere and wearing a dress she knows makes him feral. she bakes him sweet treats, packs him an extra special lunch when he goes to work, and does this thing where she dedicates a special day and special time when they're both free to dote and coddle on him. and he loves it.

she kisses him all over, runs him a bath, washes and brushes his hair, applies skincare on him while pretending she's running a spa resort, and honestly, König sometimes is convinced she likes this more than he does. treating him like a doll or a kitten. but he doesn't give a rat's ass because this shit feels good. really good.

König's a good listener as well, she found out, he remembers things very well and is detail oriented, he cares and keeps things in mind. he does things exactly as she wants, none of that weaponised incompetence shit in sight.

but the only time where he's allowed not to listen, to do whatever he pleases is when she gives him permission to go to town on her pussy. and he does. with everything he's got.

König is no longer her soft and gentle giant. instead he fucks her with his whole weight, makes her really feel their sheer size difference. he bites and squeezes and licks and sucks, leaving marks all over her soft skin. He enjoys making a mess out of her. Enjoys battering her pussy so much that when he's done, he likes to admire his hard work, how her cunt is all red and puffy, how slippery and shiny her lips are and how stretched out her hole is, and his favourite part is the mess of cum leaking out of her, that's smudged between her thighs as she shakes on the bed, worn out.

then he hovers his body overs hers, grips his massive cock and taps it on her pussy, slapping it and watching the cum web and connect the tip of his cock and her pussy. he hums and shoves his thumb in her hole, pulling to the side and she sobs. König blinks at the mess between her legs and decides he's not had enough, and shoves his already hard cock inside her, so slowly not because he needs to stretch her out, but just because he wants to make sure she feels it all. She moves her arms to push him away, cheeks wet with tears, "Kö-- Baby, please, stop--"

König leans down and smacks a wet kiss to her warm cheek, humming, "Stay still, Alpha's not done with you yet, it's the least you could do for me, hm?" He grabs her wrists in one hand and holds them down above her chest, easily pinning her as her pussy throbs around him, hot and slippery. "I do so much for my sweet Omega, I give you so much, so give me this, all I want is to stuff your pussy full of me, knot you up until you're begging me to use your ass just to give your pussy a break,"

König knows he's just dirty talking, he knows that probably won't happen, that they do have safe words set in place just in case things get too intense. But that doesn't mean he can't get creative with his dirty talk, not when she's hysterical under him, leaking like a faucet and crying and heaving under him, "König-- Alpha, please, come in my pussy-- please,"

König snarls and starts slamming his hips, his balls slapping her with each thrust, with one hand over her chest, pinning her in place and the other near her head, holding him up, he's driving in her pussy with the sole intent of filling her up, like they both want. and when she's riding up the bed by the force of his thrusts, he gets annoyed that she's getting further from him, so he drags her back by the waist and turns her around, flips her on her stomach and wraps an arm under her, pinning her against his front. He's practically holding her whole body up against him, driving her hips to meet his, she's not even doing anything but wailing and drooling as he uses her body like a fleshlight.

König loves his girl, his sweet Omega, he's so grateful that he gets to fuck her nasty like she was nothing but a tight hole to him, but also wake up to her next to him in bed, that she loves him for his kindness and sweetness, and not just because of the fact that she claimed his dick is the best thing she's ever experienced. even if it is true.

[novvabee]

Poly!marauders bedroom thoughts

Ok so just like my poly!jegulily post a little while ago, here are my poly!marauders bedroom thoughts, here goes nothing. needless to say MDNI

I think that the dynamic would be something like dom!remus, switch!sirius, sub leaning switch!james

Ok so Remus is in charge. Full stop. There is no fighting it. He is incredibly dominant in a soft and quiet way. I feel that he is like #1 in charge and if you are more on the dominant side, he would let you think you were in charge or on the same level as him, but that's not the reality. No matter how much you may think you are dominating him, you are really just playing into his game. The most he will allow is you on top and let you think that you have all the power and control, but he’s really just waiting to either flip you when you’re least expecting it and continue fucking you, or just grab your hips and fuck up into you, turning you completely into putty in his hands. Now, if you’re more submissive, then he would expect you to follow his orders and rules to a t. He doesn't need another brat to take care of, he already has Sirius. With Sirius, he tests Remus’s authority non stop and believes that he is the most dominant one in the relationship, and Remus allows him to think this, until he has to put him in his place. I feel like either way, Remus would love to praise you saying things like; “good girl, doing so good for all of us.” “Oh baby, you take such good care of our Jamie” “you look so pretty when you’re sucking/fucking/riding ___”. He enjoys watching, sitting back and letting it all play out, then fucking you last so that all you can remember is him.

Sirius is mostly only submissive to Remus, and he still challenges everything he says. If you’re on the dominant side, you and Sirius would have a power struggle , not only in bed, but all throughout the day. You can bet that he would not listen to a word you said, especially when you try to take control. If you think he gives Remus grief, he gives you twice as much, you can either put him in his place, or you can bat your lashes in Remus’s direction and he’ll do it for you. Now, if you're submissive, I still don’t think he’d be entirely nice. He is either trying to coerce you into not listening to Remus like him, or he is jealous of the attention that Remus gives you, so he would find any reason to prove you're not the good girl Remus thinks you are. Sirius would love fucking you while Remus is fucking him, that is his perfect balance of being in control and having no control. While Remus is into praising you, Sirius is the exact opposite, loving to degrade you. Nothing  super mean or anything just little snide remarks like: “C’mon baby I know you have more in you than that” “Ugh, Jamie does a much better job at this, maybe I should just ask him instead” “Remus says you’re a good girl but, I’m not so convinced”.

Now James, again, is just happy to be there lmao. He is much less dominant than Remus and Sirius, but he can definitely hold his own if he needs to. James loves having all of the attention on him, so if you are dominant, he adores when all three of you use him. He definitely is a great listener and a pleaser if ya know what I mean. I said this in my last bedroom thoughts post but… he definitely cums from eating you out, and you love it, because it is like an added bonus, his tongue is amazing, and he doesn’t cum when he is sucking Remus or Sirius, only for you. And you absolutely flaunt that to Remus and Sirius. Now I feel like even though he is a little more subby, that does not mean that he doesn't have his moments of needing to fuck you how he wants. So, if you are submissive, this is perfect, he would take charge while Sirius and Remus watch, not getting to witness this side of James very often. Even if you were submissive, he would still slip back into his own submissive ways, but that is perfectly fine with Remus and Sirius, then they each just get one of you to fuck and you and James are in it together. James is generally super vocal and whiney, and it is heavenly. He doesn’t say much, just moans and whines and occasionally begs. He loves when you're on top, but unlike Remus, he loves to give you all the control and would go feral if you decided to wrap your hand around his throat.

[mameillieureennemie]

more co-worker!vi x reader content :)

you and vi get caught.

"So," Mel starts off slowly, an elegant hand poised under her chin. "Do you want to tell me why I found you and Violet doing unsavory things in the break room?"

You shrink down in your seat, face aflame, as you avoid eye contact at all costs. It doesn't help that you can feel Mel's stare burning into your skin, but there's nothing you can do about that.

You're trapped.

"Well," you begin, just as slowly. "I—we were just talking about work, and you know how our conversations go. It starts off civil before she's pressing my buttons, and I wanna rip her head off." You sigh, closing your eyes. "Except this time instead of ripping her head off, I—"

"Climbed her like a tree." Mel fills in helpfully, and you shrink even further into your seat. You even cover your face with your hands, horrified about what's currently happening.

It wasn't your fault, okay?

Vi was messing with you again, straying away from what should have been a simple conversation. All you wanted to do was check if she'd be in attendance for the seminar this weekend, but nooooo.

She had to poke and prod at you until literal steam was blowing out your ears. It also didn't help that Vi messing with you was kind of a turn on. Maybe it's because of the teasing smirk she gives, her gorgeous face turning playfully mean—who can tell?

But all it took was her standing a little too close to you and yep.

Your lips were on hers, and she was licking into your mouth, her strong arms lifting you onto the counter so she could muscle her way between your thighs. It felt so good, had your eyes rolling back a little as she surrounded you fully, not allowing you to focus on anything else for even a second.

It had escalated a bit too far for an office setting when one of her hands slipped under your shirt, tugging at the cups of your bra to free your breasts. And the usual you wouldn't have allowed it, but there's something about Vi that has you losing all caution.

So that's how Mel found you both, all debauched and nearly half-dressed, and that's not the best sight for your boss to see.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, embarrassed but loud enough for Mel to hear. "I don't know what came over me."

"Someone almost came alright," Mel says nonchalantly, and you choke on your breath. "But it's fine, this stuff happens. You aren't the first I've caught, and you probably won't be the last."

You peer up from your eyelashes, observing Mel's expression, and feel relieved to see it calm and amused.

"Thanks," you reply, smiling wearily as you sit up a bit. "Am I free to go, or do you want to torture me some more?"

"I'll have my fun with Vi first," Mel says, smiling sharply, and you give an amused snort as you rise from your seat.

"She's a tough one," you say, and Mel laughs.

"That's what makes them more fun." She replies, and you can't help but agree.

As you exit Mel's office, Vi immediately stands up from where she's sat and comes over to you. She checks you over like you've just come out of a battle, and it's so annoying; you love it.

"Everything okay?" She asks, concerned, and you allow her hands to gently cradle your cheeks. In fact, you may lean into her touch a little because her skin's nice and warm.

"Everything's fine," you assure her, tilting your head to press a small kiss against her palm. You notice how her breath hitches at that. "You're up so try not to put your foot in your mouth."

Vi laughs, kisses the tip of your nose. "I always do."

You groan around a laugh. "Not a good thing, Violet."

Vi leaves you with a squeeze of your hand before walking into Mel's office. You watch her close the door, your expression instantly twisting into something conflicted.

With furrowed brows, you shake your head and proceed back to your office, trying to ignore a certain feeling stirring.

No.

It can't be.

[sarahdawnsdesigns]

As a Knitter:

(A lot of this overlaps with Crochet, too)

Look for impossibly smooth stitches, or stitches that don't seem to have any definition to the yarn. Also, if you can 'read' knitting, apply that skill to the pattern pictures. Do you know (or can guess, or look up) what stitch that is? Also, since AI was trained on media, and a lot of mainstream media doesn't know the difference between knitting and crochet, look for crochet stitches in a knitting pattern (and vice versa, too!)

Do the yarn characteristics line up? What I mean by that is: does the pattern call for rustic wool but the images have the sheen of something like silk or rayon? This takes a bit of yarn knowledge, true, but it's worth it if you can spot it.

Look for various pattern images, - front, back, sides, etc. The more photos, the better (bonus if there's video!) And go into the reviews of wherever you're buying, as well, as you can often get clues from there.

Also, look at the actual pattern listing text. What are they telling you? Bare minimum, they should be telling you:

recommended yarn (with all colours used)

yardage/meterage (for all colours used)

yarn weight

sizing, (and not just a vague 'woman's small')

recommended needle sizes

a difficulty indication, and/or a list of techniques

If this isn't listed, that's a huge red flag for a bad-quality pattern - this is all stuff you should know before you hit 'buy'.

Also, as much as this advice hurts newcomers and smaller designers, I'd second the advice from elsewhere in the reblogs: to search the shop name/artist's name. Most fibre people I know have at least something else going on - a website, an IG account, a Youtube channel, something. You can get a pretty good idea if they're human by looking at other content they produce and where else they are on the web.

Finally: while yes, Digital Downloads are non-refundable on Etsy and many other marketplaces (which is part of how these shops are getting away with it), if you do accidentally buy an AI pattern and it doesn't make what is is supposed to make, you may be eligible to file a chargeback if you paid via your credit card. Because those 'products' (I feel bad calling them that, ugh) are, in fact, not as advertised, as they do not do what they are supposed to do.

Hey, if you do crafts (especially things like crochet, knitting, embroidery, etc), make sure to look up how to identify when a listing is AI generated. You do NOT want to waste money on an incredible looking kit or pattern that is physically impossible to make, especially if you're on sites like etsy hoping to support an actual artist.

[nonrebloggingviewerswillbeshot]

A Dellamorte PSA

Disclaimer: Not only do I have the privilege of talking about this topic because I suffered from emotional, psychological, physical and sexual abuse from my family, but this post will contain game spoilers. You have been warned!

Just a friendly but also scathing reminder to those who think otherwise, that what Caterina did to her grandsons was abuse!

Abuse comes in many forms and just because no one is going to argue that her treatment of them did in fact give them the skills they needed to survive, taught them how to close themselves off and push through, in a world that would have chewed them up and spat them out, it doesn't make it any less abuse.

Illario didn't get to be the way he was because Caterina was fair with them. He didn't just up and want to kill Lucanis because Grandmother dearest didn't play favorites. Its practically drilled into you from multiple people in the game(and even the book to an extent) that Caterina adored Lucanis and pushed Illario out into the cold.

Those boys lost everything because rival Crows killed their family. They were already in a raw and emotional state before they ended up with her. Just because you're raised an assassin it doesn't mean you aren't going to be completely hurt and devastated over your entire families deaths.

Just look at how unhealthily and toxically Lucanis clings to any scrap of family he has left, even Illario, that inadvertently sent him to a year of(to coin one of Astarion's lines) PURE SHIT!

That's a man who has been hurt by his past. A man who can't lose anything else. And his Inner Demons quest does a good job of explaining this.

So, if you think that a child, Illario, coming under Caterina's care only to be largely overlooked and neglected because Caterina was always going to see Lucanis as her favorite and golden child, never him, wasn't going to fuck him up in the head, you're delusional. And ignoring the basic human psyche.

He lost everything and wanted some love as all children do, from their guardians and caregivers. Instead all Illario got was the repeated swatting away of his hand as he reached out to try and hold what he wanted and needed while he was vulnerable.

I understand Illario, more than I thought I would. If I had grown up a Crow, I very much so would have offed my siblings much like he tried to because I was Illario in my household.

I feel for him, despite recognizing that he was very much in the wrong and shouldn't have done anything he did end up doing. I don't even like Illario, but I don't have to like someone to understand them, and pity and sympathize with them.

What Caterina did to both of them, wasn't fair, especially since Lucanis never even wanted to be the First Talon, and still doesn't even if after finding out what Illario did he wanted to 'take everything from him' and all Illario had left at that point while Lucanis still believed Caterina to in fact be dead(and that Illario himself was the one who killed Caterina because Zara reveals she didn't do it, with Emmerich's corpse whispering), is the oh so coveted seat of First Talon.

The thing that started it all, the title, the seat of power. The thing that destroyed the relationship of two cousins who were as close as brothers. It never should have happened, and despite already losing so much, Caterina is directly responsible for destroying what little they all had left.

Its a sad, pathetic state of affairs, that Caterina's own trauma over losing so much of her family as Velardo sought to steal her throne, caused her to abuse her grandsons, who she would have eventually anyway in one form or other because Lucanis states they would have ended up with her regardless.

None of it should have happened, but it did. It turned Illario into a jealous/envious monster who both loved and hated his newfound brother, because Lucanis feasted while Illario was left with scraps and crumbs at the foot of the Dellamorte table.

And it forced Lucanis into the role of favorite and golden child that he himself never wanted. He never wanted that animosity to come from Illario because of something he couldn't control and that closing scene in Wigmaker about how the rift between them was suddenly much wider than a table, spoke volumes.

Because you don't say no to family. You only nod and bow your head, silent and submissive to shoulder whatever family chooses to lump onto you. That's how they were raised. And Lucanis has, for want of a better turn of phrase; No spine to deny his grandmother anything.

.

I could go on for longer, but I've ranted enough and said what I needed to say. As always feel free to reply to the post, open a conversation, but be respectful and civil.

[glamourscat]

Hello ma'am! I have a good idea (I think). It's low key based on a visual novel but imagine tim just assuming that reader knows he has a big fat crush while reader is convinced tim has no clue about her own crush. they both think it's unrequited until one day tim just casually mentions his own crush and they both bluescreen because "What do you mean you LIKE ME–" "what do you mean YOU DIDN'T KNOW??" Have a nice day and either drink water or exercise, you choose 🫶

-tda (tim drake anon)

sorry for the wait tim drake anon <3 but here it is!! i hope u like it :))

it happened on a tuesday.

You're both sat on the floor of tim's apartment, surrounded by case files and empty take out containers, when he casually says, "can you pass me that file, love?"

you freeze. your brain makes the windows shutdown noise.

"what did you just call me?"

tim doesn't even look up from his laptop. "love. like i always do?" now he does look up, because you're making a strange choking sound. "are you okay?"

"since when do you call me that?!"

"uh, since we started dating?" tim's typing slows. "three months ago?"

the room temperature drops about twenty degrees. Or maybe that's just your brain short-circuiting.

"we're WHAT?"

now tim's fully stopped typing. "we're... dating?" his confidence wavers. "right? we go out for tea every morning. We have dinner dates twice a week. You literally wore my clothes to the manor yesterday after sleeping over in my bed with me."

"i thought those were friend things!" your voice hits a high pitch note that Ariana Grande was shaking in her boots. "like friend-dates!"

"i bought you flowers!"

"you were being nice!"

"i kissed you goodnight last week!"

"ON THE CHEEK!"

tim puts his head in his hands. "oh my god. i thought... when i told you i liked you at the carnival..."

"YOU WERE DROWNING IN POPCORNS AND TALKING ABOUT COLD CASES!"

"it was romantic!"

"it was a MURDER INVESTIGATION!"

A slow, moment of silence passes by while Tim looks like he's contemplating jumping out the window. "I... have a massive crush on you, you absolute idiot! I LIKE YOU." he says looking at you, hair sticking up in different places.

there's another moment of silence. Tim's face goes through about seventeen different emotions.

"so... you like me?" you say quietly, to double check.

"YES!"

"and i like you."

"You do-? I mean-- yes, I hope so?" He cringes at his anxiety.

Both of you stare at each other speechless unable to understand what the hell happened. And then Tim starts laughing. Actually laughing, the kind that makes his nose scrunch up and his eyes crinkle. "we're idiots," he manages between breaths.

you collapse next to him on the floor, feeling giddy and ridiculous and so, so happy. You two are truly two idiots indeed.

"do it" you murmur after a few moments.

"do what?" he says breathless, pulling you closer, his voice soft. That glint you like so much still present in his eyes.

"kiss me properly this time, dumbass."

And so he does.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[babybearnation]

think i like you best when you're just with me

⎇f1 drivers x gn!reader - you're trying to quit smoking (reactions) ⎇contains: alex albon, arthur leclerc, charles leclerc, dino beganovic, george russell, zhou guanyu, kimi antonelli, lance stroll, lando norris, liam lawson, logan sargeant, max verstappen, mick schumacher, ollie bearman, oscar piastri, paul aron, pierre gasly, yuki tsunoda ⎇author's note: this is something i struggle with so i appreciate 🔒 anon for requesting this! if you're trying to quit an addiction, i love you, i believe in you, stay strong! (kofi for long fics) ⎇content warnings: smoking/addiction/relapses (all), crying (alex, charles, logan, max), arguing (kimi, max), suggestive (lando, ollie, yuki) ⎇word count: 2.1k

alex albon:

alex is not going to judge you for struggling. he understands that sometimes people turn to shitty things to cope with life. when you confess that you want to quit smoking, alex is immediately looking up all the strategies he can. he'll find your cigarettes and keep them on his person that way he can try and stop you when you go for one, he'll convince you to put out your cigarette if he catches you with one, he'll even let you play with his hands or his hair if it means you won't think about the feeling of a cigarette between your fingers. and if you break down in tears because life sucks and you just want to smoke, he'll hold you and cheer you up until you feel better.

arthur leclerc:

monaco has one of the highest rates of smoking in all of europe so arthur is probably pretty desensitized to seeing people smoke. he'll still be pretty upset if he finds out that you smoke, though. upon discovering that you want to quit, arthur is immediately on board, helping you slowly but surely remove the desire to smoke from your life. if you ever relapse, he might be angry at first, but he soon learns that you really cannot help it. after that he becomes much better at helping you leave the cigarettes behind. any milestones you hit in your smoking cessation journey will be celebrated however you so desire because he truly believes that's what you deserve.

charles leclerc:

he might be a bit baffled as to why you smoke but when you explain to him that it helps you deal with stress, he's gonna be stressed himself. he doesn't want you smoking - he wants you as healthy as possible, thank you - but he gets it. when you tearfully suggest that you want to quit, he's helping you as soon as he can. he'll get you those patches or mints for the first couple months, and he nab and destroy any cigarette he catches you with (with permission, he does not want to upset you further), but eventually, he switches paths and tries to get rid of your stress. he'll do whatever is takes to help you quit, tbh.

dino beganovic:

he's not really happy about the fact that you smoke but he knows he can't control you, so he will just request that you don't smoke in his presence. when you decide that, actually, killing your lungs really isn't worth it, you'll ask him to help you quit. he'll be patient with you as you attempt to quit, always careful not to push you too far, but also knowing exactly when to be more commanding. he doesn't want you to experience any relapses, but he's prepared mentally and physically for when/if you do. he's really sweet about helping you quit, even if his initial reaction to finding out you smoke was one of pure disgust.

george russell:

there's actually a pretty big smoking culture in the uk so i wouldn't be surprised if george has encountered many smokers in his time as a brit, but he's a bit shocked when he discovers you're one as well. he won't be completely disgusted - people cope in a myriad of ways, after all - but he will push you towards trying to quit. when you eventually agree, he's laying out all the options towards cessation that exist, giving you the pros and cons of each one. he's done his research, which means he's really good at helping you fight your cravings and preventing any relapses. if you ever do relapse though? it's okay, he won't judge. he gets it and he will help you get back on your feet so you can try again.

zhou guanyu:

he thinks its a dirty habit and will say as much to you, but in a much nicer way than that seems. when you ask him to help you with fighting your addiction, he's there instantly. you want his help? you'll get it! he's not going to let you suffer alone. he's very patient in the early stages, understanding that relapses are bound to happen. if you get really distraught over these relapses, he will do everything in his power to cheer you up, even if that means he has to ruin his cool guy persona and embarrass himself to make you laugh. he will do literally anything to make sure you go through cessation without too much trouble.

kimi antonelli:

he's young and been embroiled in the world of motorsport for a very long time, under heavy watch from mercedes, so he's probably never even considered smoking before. when you confess to him that you smoke (probably since before you were legally able to), he's gonna be upset and this might trigger an argument between you two but it comes from a place of love and concern for him. the second you suggest quitting and finding other coping mechanisms, he's there. he'll think of every single way he can to prevent you from smoking. if that means you have to travel all around the world with him so he can keep an eye on you, then so be it!

lance stroll:

i would not be surprised if this man has smoked before and hated it. he gets it though - he deals with perpetual stress in his line of work and he has plenty of coping mechanisms. he's gonna be a bit upset that you chose smoking of all things, but he'll happily let you do whatever you want because he gets it. when you say you want to quit, however, he's there. he's paying for all the expensive alternatives and treatments, getting you all the therapies. hell, if he can, he'll even pay away your stress. your job is your stress? okay, well, your new job is as his full time SAP so. enjoy it. anything he can do to make your life easier and to reduce your stress so you'll stop smoking, he'll have it done by the end of the day.

lando norris:

whilst he might find it hot that you smoke, he's also gonna be a little bit concerned because he's fully watched you chain smoke three cigarettes before and that surely cannot be good for your lungs. when you tell him you've started the process of quitting, he'll be so proud of you and he'll offer to help every single step of the way. it's really hard to relapse around him because he'll shoot you with a water gun every time he catches you smoking. despite being a chaotic gremlin most of the time, lando really does understand stress very well and so he'll understand your cravings and relapses. he'll never make you feel upset. if its the feeling of something in your mouth you crave, well... lando's got that covered ;).

liam lawson:

he's not happy about it, but he understands that you smoke because you're stressed. he may accidentally push you too far when insisting that you try and quit, but when you come to him and say that you wanna quit because you yourself has decided to, he feels a little victorious knowing he played some role in that. he can be a bit too aggressive with you at first - demanding to know why you thought relapsing was okay - but he quickly researches more into nicotine addictions and realises you really can't help it. after that, he becomes much more helpful and your path to cessation becomes much easier.

logan sargeant:

if anyone understands stress, it's this man, so when he catches you ripping into a new pack of cigarettes as tears stream down your face, he gets it. he might try and stop you that first time but ultimately, he wants you to make the decision to stop. so when you ask him if he'd help you fight the addiction, he's obviously saying yes. he's there to hold you when you cry and try and stop you when you relapse, but every month you pass without smoking, he'll buy you something nice. a little material motivation/incentive never hurt anyone, right?

max verstappen:

he loves you, he really does, but he isn't entirely sure if he can handle your smoking. it might cause a rift or an argument, but eventually he realises how deep your addiction is and offers to help you get out of it when you end up crying during another argument. he helps you with alternative products (patches/mints/e-cigs), or he'll pay for group therapy or he'll snatch any and every cigarette he sees you smoking out of your hand. whatever it takes for you to quit, he'll do it, because he wants you to be happy and healthy and he doesn't believe any amount of cigarettes is good for either of those things.

mick schumacher:

it breaks his heart to know that you turned to smoking because you were too stressed about life. his heart is well and truly broken. he's very kind and patient with you though, and if you're really struggling, he'll go out and buy you cigarettes, but he hates seeing you smoke. when you tell him you're quitting and that he has to hold you responsible, he does. he takes his job very seriously and will help prevent, or at least soften the blow of, any relapses that may happen. when you get to one year cigarette free, he celebrates in a way that suits you because that's an incredible achievement that deserves to be celebrated!

ollie bearman:

i think ollie would be so torn on this. on the one hand, he hates that you're smoking because you're stressed. he hates that you're hurting. on the other hand? you smoking is fucking hot. when you tell him you want to quit, he might playfully protest but when he realises how serious you actually are, he'll put the jokes away and asks how he can help and support you. every step of the way, every stumble and every success, ollie is there to help you. some people might think its weird how overprotective of you he appears to be, but he refuses to let you get hurt and sink back into that place of smoking ever again.

oscar piastri:

he's soft yet blunt on his thoughts regarding you smoking - he hates it, but it's your life. when you tell him you want to quit because you refuse to let stress and smoking control your life anymore, oscar's on board basically instantly. he's researching the best strategies to fight a nicotine addiction and he's slowly helping you implement them into your life and test the waters to see if they help. he knows there will be bad days and he's always willing to hold you through all of them, but he can't help but be so proud when you hit milestones, no matter how many times you've hit them before.

paul aron:

he seems very strict about taking care of his health and being at peak performance so realising he's dating someone who smokes might jolt him but he's never once gonna be mean to you about it. people have different ways of coping and he won't shame you for yours. is he gonna pounce on the idea of you quitting the second you hint at it? of course he is, but he's not pushy. he's only ever pushing you to stop when you tell him to because you know he can help prevent a relapse or help you deal with something stressful. if you ever slip up, he won't hold it over your head. it happens. he'll pick you up and help you carry on or start again.

pierre gasly:

another one who might be a bit upset at first but quickly learns that you are deep into addiction and aren't able to just up and quit like other people can. he'll be there to guide you through every step of your smoking cessation, always cheering you on when you do well or comforting you when you slip up and relapse. he'll never make you feel like you're wrong or dirty for smoking. he's just so supportive!

yuki tsunoda:

yuki might find it hot at first but those feelings are very quickly washed away by panic and concern. why were you smoking? did you want to quit or was this something you planned to do for the rest of your life? when you tell him you want to quit, yuki will try his best to cheer you on. he offers to cook for you as motivation but like.. he always cooks for you. luckily, he's cute enough that it's fine, but you do have to find a proper source of motivation to keep you going. and seeing the way yuki's eyes get brighter with each milestone you hit, you quickly realise what that source is.

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[hanaeriin]

Hi hanae (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

I was wondering, what type of girl would Mitsuki, Suo and Kaji would fall for? Like, what's their type and stuff. I don't mind if you add someone else to the list but I was kinda just curious and thought I'd ask you! Thank you so much🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

DREAM GiRL. suo hayato ,, kiryu mitsuki & kaji ren x fem!reader ノ fluff, sfw & some chit chat about what the boys want in their ideal girl.

NOTE. i will admit, this one took an embarrassing amount of time of me just debating with myself cuz it's my first attempt at writing with i instead of you and on top of that, my own opinions !!?- i hope you enjoy this still despite the late delivery ><!!

“ SUO HAYATO.

❣ okie, i personally think he's the type who absolutely loves a girl who can put up with him, he's the kind of man who prefers being in control yet he likes being on the edge at times. i think his ideal girl would be someone who is daring yet he also prefers if she's very expressionate and is very easy to get flustered because i could definitely see this man will leave you hanging after a makeout session just to see you come running back to him hours later. he's a menace, don't say i didn't warn ya.

❣ if i had to put a ship dynamic for this, i would say opposite attracts because i don't know how to explain it...i feel like he's the kind of guy who loves the idea of bantering with his girl because it will give him an excuse to waste your time on him and let me tell you...this man is enjoying every single second of it!!

❣ he's the kind of guy who will accept all your flaws and almost anything just make you for who you are.

“ KIRYU MITSUKI.

❣ is it bad that i believe that he has a soft spot for girls with creative mindset like artist, writer and so on. the best way to explain it is that creative people tend to be more open-minded or so how i would like to believe, he would definitely like it if his girl is pretty chill enough to hanging out with the boys and someone who is pretty confident about herself because that's what he wants for you, who doesn't want a girl who can stand up for herself and maybe be a little unhinged too? he thinks it's a part of your unique charm.

❣ for ship dynamic, i would say carefree guy x chaotic girl, being the gentleman he is...he always let you do whatever you want because he thinks it's entertaining how chaotic you can get, he's like your personal cheerleader, he likes watching you being all happy despite the questionable things you do sometimes...

❣ whether you're a gamer or not, he would be so happy to have a gaming session just between the two of you. in his eyes, it's another date but virtually;; at home and being all cozy with each other. you two are practically inseparable.

“ KAJI REN.

❣ despite how he is, i believe his ideal type is a girl who is absolute sweetheart and is very friendly with those around her. basically someone who is the cheese to his spice if you get what I mean...he wants someone who is patient with him because he's aware that whenever he can't control his temper, he is easily blind by rage. i think he also wants a girl who can appreciate music and it's even better if she has good tastes on songs, and don't tell him that i'm telling you this...but i think he would absolutely love the idea of his girl singing or even humming to the tune, he thinks it's adorable.

❣ the ship dynamic for this is... the grumpy and the sunshine, i mean it's pretty obvious but you know this guy will never admit it out loud... he's a natural protector and while he might not have the brain but i believe standing next to him will make you feel safe, but please keep him on a leash though because he will definitely punch a random dude that was bothering you, his fists are yours to use.

❣ he has a soft spot for his girl, if you ask him for his stuff, he will give them to you no question ask. he will literally do anything for you... even if it's a bit embarrassing sometimes.

© HANAERIIN. please do no repost, translate, copy or use any of my works on any platform/train ai.

[jd-loves-fiction]

For your event, may I request Idia and first time together (as in making love)

idk how to word that better. sounded more romantic in my head. Lowkey love how you write Idia BSKEBEJ

💐oh honey thank you🥺you worded that fine hun, making it romantic is my job :3 also this smut is gonna have a heckin lot of plot so sit tight. Also HEAVILY inspired by the Hades game cuz i just love that version of the underworld❤ also couldn't resist adding some angst teehee

❧ Like mortals do

❧ Word count: 4k

❧ Contains: explicit sexual descriptions, handjob, unprotected sex (you're dead but... yknow), penetrative sex, afab!reader, inexperienced!Idia, the floweriest of languages

❧ Idia hates himself for thinking so, but he despises the way your heart remains guarded. No matter what. No matter how much you want to let him in.

He can tell, with the way you get so close to him when delivering documents, how your touch lingers when you hand them over.

And most of all, the way your eyes linger on his form when he is forced out of his office for one reason or another, before you look down bashfully. He can almost see red over your cheeks, were you capable of such a human feat after passing. 

But still, you close yourself off to him, allowing him only an arm's length of proximity and nothing more. 

He feels so selfish for thinking it, but oh, how he wishes he could take comfort from having you by his side during his necessary ventures outside of his chambers. Or better yet, to have you keep him company in his office. Perhaps then he'd actually feel motivated to get work done. 

After some time and research, he surmises that your attachment to the Overworld is to blame. 

And by that, he means he heard you mumbling about it and sighing wistfully while looking up at the cavernous sky of the Underworld. 

Idia decides that something must be done. Not only for his sake, no, mostly for yours, he reasons. Longing for a home no longer accessible will do you no good. 

"H-Hey," he greets you, stepping into the now lush garden, "I hope I'm not interrupting."

He seems to say this a lot nowadays, after having realized how much this place matters to you – your own sanctuary. Much like his office; Idia doesn't like when people enter his office without his permission. 

"Not at all. What do you need?"

"I need you to come with me. There's something I want to show you."

You stand before the door to the Temple of Styx, gulping down your nerves (or trying to) as Idia waits for your signal to open the massive gates.

“I must warn you, it’s only a temporary visit. One way or another, once your time is up, you will return to the Underworld.” The strangely serious tone makes you nod.

"Do you usually do this? For other people, I mean." Perhaps mindless small talk will help calm your nerves. Your ghostly heart is beating so hard you can barely hear Idia over the sound. 

"Of course not. Plus I don't believe the other Shades would want this." His answer raises many questions about how the Underworld works exactly, but you keep back from them. Not now, perhaps later. 

"Ready?" You don't know the answer to his question, but you nod anyway. If not now, never. 

Wind strong enough to knock you on your ass, were you still alive, blows past you as the gates open with a wave of Idia’s hand. Golden sunlight shines upon your skin, though you can no longer feel its heat.

Stepping forward, away from the massive doors, your feet land on soft snow.

The view from above is breathtaking, like something out of a painting... Without color. This simply because of what you're missing. 

You cannot feel the heat of the sun or the cold of the snow and chilly wind nor the softness of the snow beneath your feet and so it all feels... Distant. Hollow. Fake, even. 

You sit by a small stream, a thin layer of ice over it. Placing your feet over it doesn't even move it. Seems you really have no effect on this plane of existence. 

You feel as if you should cry, but no tears come forth, though you know they can, given how much you screamed and cried in agony on your first night of your new 'life'. 

Idia approaches you, you can hear the crunching of the snow beneath his feet, feel his presence behind you. But he doesn't say a word, perhaps not knowing what you need to hear. Nor what you want to hear. 

But there are none such words. For now, all you need is silence, the sound of rustling leaves and birds taking flight. 

“Your time is almost over. I’m sorry, but we must return now of our own will. Otherwise the Underworld will take us forcibly, and that won’t be pleasant.” Idia says gently, knowing he’s already pushing it and warning you too late.

"I just never thought–" Idia leans towards you curiously, waiting for you to continue speaking, "Nevermind."

A sudden tightening appears within your chest, perhaps it's emotion welling up from the knowledge that your original home is no more and all that's left is the desolate land of Death.

But it's not all so bad. Despite how much you resisted in the beginning, now, in this quiet moment, you realize that Idia is not nearly as terrible as you'd initially thought.

He gave you a home, a purpose, despite how much you insulted him to his face, not that you knew it was him then. And after so much pestering, he showed you something that someone dead would never have the chance to see, the Overworld.

You get up from your seat suddenly, hoping to thank him for all he’s done, to face the feelings that have been brewing in your chest for a while now. But dizziness hits you like the cold mountain wind and your legs nearly give out, “W-What’s happening?”

"I warned you. Time's up. But don't worry, it'll be over quickly." Idia speaks softly, hands on your shoulders as you start feeling even more faint.

Your breathing speeds up in a panic, even though you no longer need it, legs shaking under your own weight. Falling backwards, you land upon his chest as your eyelids fall slowly. And then, you're gone.

Waking up your eyelids feel far too heavy to lift, so they remain shut as you feel something lap at you, wet and cold. You realize it’s the blood pool back at the House of Shroud just as Idia takes your body into his arms.

He’s cold but you snuggle closer to his body, seeking not warmth but comfort.

Even as soft, unfamiliar, sheets press against your back, you cling to him. "...don't leave."

Idia blinks down at you, between your droopy eyes and the hands that cling to his clothing.

"I-I shouldn't." You groan at his response, hands crawling upwards and behind his neck to pull him closer. “You should. Because I said so.”

He chuckles before sighing, relaxing beneath your hands and laying beside you.

Idia smells of smoke and... snow. An odd combination to be sure but not wholly unpleasant.

“I wanted… ugh…” You begin, attempting to thank him at least, but your mouth feels as if it’s stuffed with cotton and your head feels both floaty and heavy. It’s as if your body demands sleep despite not needing it.

“Shh… we’ll talk later.” Idia whispers, seemingly cool and collected… if not for the shaking of the pale hand running through your hair. But the effect is the same, in what feels like a second, you’re out like a light, enjoying the luxury that is sleep in the Underworld.

“I see. Well, tell them to hurry it up, I’ve already given them plenty of time to finish it. I get that we have all eternity to get things done but still, I get rather impatient.” Idia’s voice sounds from somewhere distant as you come to, blinking blearily and wondering if you’re still dreaming with how stern he sounds.

No light stings your eyes as they open, finally taking in the dark, lavish room around you. Idia’s room… You’re in Idia’s room still… in his bed, no less.

You sit up so fast you feel dizzy out of human habit. It’s one thing to consider forgiving him, another still to think about confessing about the feelings you’ve kept so well hidden… but to sleep in his bed? You would never!

But… it’s so soft… and cool… and it smells just like him… Focus!

From the balcony beyond the dark curtains comes a grumble, followed by furious clicking and clacking. The long cloth parts just enough for a glimpse of his blue fire mane and for a moment you wonder; could you run your fingers through it like hair? Would it burn you?

Before you know it, your feet take you towards his half-hunched figure, fingers reaching out to sate your curiosities. Just as you get close Idia seems to send your presence behind himself, turning around to greet you, entirely unaware of the mental downpour going inside your head, “Oh! You’re up.”

His expression tells you he’s pleased with this, unlike his tone. He always did seem to have better control over his voice rather than his features.

“Is all that… normal?” Your voice sounds weaker than expected.

“It’s not common for mortals to visit the Overworld after passing but, from the few examples I’ve seen, yes. Very much so.” His voice sounds… oddly stable? Almost confident?

Strange. Very strange.

Sure, in the tales told of his attitude by the other shades he was always cold and stern, but the Idia you now know is anything but.

“T-There’s something I must tell you.” You’re now the one stuttering nervously, but admitting that you misjudged someone so badly would sting anyone’s ego.

Idia tilts his head curiously like a puppy and the thought makes you want to yell in confusion and frustration.

“I… forgive… you.” Getting the words out feels like walking through quicksand but it feels necessary. Despite him being the reason why you ended up here in the first place, Idia’s been nothing but downright indulgent with you in a way that he really didn't have to be and probably shouldn't be.

“I see now all that you’ve done to ease my sorrows. And I understand that I should not have expected to be given more time for being pious. Death comes for us all and I’m no different.” You finally raise you head, just catching the change in his expression, from bashful to somewhat anxious.

“I must be honest with you as well. Your death… was not entirely natural.” Idia looks off into the dark distance, brows furrowed thoughtfully, flame-hair moving rapidly, “I’m not s-sure if this is… something you want to hear about.”

“Yes!” You respond before he’s even done speaking, “I need to know the truth of it. Please,“ The desperation in your voice convinces him, clearing his throat to speak clearly, eyes conveniently averted.

“You were meant to have a much more… tragic death. One I felt was not befitting of your worth.”

“My worth?”

Idia’s wide shoulders drop, hair losing much of its brightness as a gloomy cloud forms over him, “Not many mortals worship my mother. Perhaps her deeds, but never her name… I felt you were worthy of some consideration because you are one of the few who did.”

Processing the information, you remain silent as he continues, “Our relationship’s never been very good but, us immortals, we can't just cut ties. A part of me will never forgive them both for what they did, or what they didn't. But another part of me will always be their son, so I felt I should… I don't know. This must make no sense to you… forget it.” His confidence runs out quickly as his eyes meet yours, cheeks flushing blue upon the pale canvas of his face, before he hides it behind his large hands.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what…”

“Hide your face. I never imagined the gods… bashful.” The mere thought makes you chuckle.

The amusement is cut short upon seeing Idia's face fall, “I'm not like them.”

“Well, sure you're not.” His frown turns into a pout before you continue, “From what I know, you're much more pleasant to be around.”

“I- I appreciate that… but that's not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” You ask innocently, watching as he curls in on himself, dark blue upon his cheeks.

“I'm just not– I don't– I'm not that handsome, beautiful, whatever you call it. People think I look strange.” He looks away from you, down at the dour grounds of his estate. You think to yourself that such a thing must not be true, not with what you see before you…

Your face flushes at the thought. Could it be that… your forgiveness of his actions… has turned to infatuation? Could it perhaps be that… it was always there beneath the scorn?

But you concede – he is indeed nothing like how you picture the gods to be. No skin of bronze stretched over absurd muscles like in the statues, no absurd posing and posturing at every turn…

“Since now is a time for honesty… No, you’re nothing like them.” The curiosity shining in his irises turns to resigned acceptance at your words, already imagining the worst of what you’ll say next. 

“You’re not extroverted, rowdy or entertaining. You don't walk around like everyone owes you something just because they get to look upon your splendorous visage.” Making a silly pose gets a low chuckle out of him.

“But you know what? I’m glad. Who can stand people– gods? Like that anyway? Not me… if that means anything.” Your face gets so warm so quickly while trying to make your feelings less obvious that you’re worried you might be cursed. That can't be normal.

“You’re…” Words fail you, so much you can and wish to say. How you’d much rather his bashfulness over their boldness, his attentiveness over their supposedly good natured obliviousness, the hesitant stutter of his purely honest words over their confident, practiced speeches. “No words would suffice to tell you just how starkly different you are from them.”

The candidness of your tone gives him pause, it’s as if all that you wish to say but are unable to somehow makes itself known to him anyway. Perhaps he can read minds? You wouldn't put it past him.

His gaze changes, softening to a gentle yellow like the first rays of sunlight peeking out over the horizon – you’re caught in it, unable and unwilling to resist the urge to draw closer and closer to his blue lips.

Idia hesitates at the last second, brows furrowed in frustration, no doubt overthinking the whole ordeal, but your emotions are just about ready to boil over so you heed their order and connect your lips decidedly, hesitation be damned. He’s tense for only a second, before eagerly grabbing at your shoulder as well as the balustrade; his attempt to remain chaste with his touches is adorable, even if all you want to do is devour him, let out all your frustrations along with your fondness for him in one go.

“Idia…” You whisper against his lips, feeling the immense heat of him against your face. The expression he makes is almost painful… delightfully so.

“Please don't do that… I can’t–” He pinches his eyes closed, but makes no move away from you. He’s flushed down to his chest just thinking about how badly he wants you – the thought fills you with a dangerous boldness.

“Why not? Aren’t you the king? You can do as you please… no?” Your hands trail down his arms teasingly, delighting in the way he shivers and twitches.

“I-It’s not so simple. There are rules and r-responsibilities…” It’s to you his consciousness is making up excuses for some reason. You loathe to think it could be the fault of the solitary life he’s lived, full of people who hate him just as you once did… without even knowing him at all.

“There is nothing… There is just you and me here. And I. Want. You.” He gulps loudly.

“If you’ll have me, of course.” The look on his face is hard to describe – it’s like you’ve given him all that he’s ever wanted in life and yet was never allowed to have, and told him that he can have it. 

He hastily grabs your hand to pull you into his bedroom again, his grip remaining surprisingly gentle. Once you make it to his bed, he tenses up, unsure of where to look, where to put his hands, “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Momentarily, a flash of annoyance crosses his face as if he wants to disagree, before he realises you’re right, “Not the best place to… fall in love.”

“Sounds like someone didn't try hard enough,” you edge closer to where he sits at the edge of the bed – he refuses to meet your eyes still but seems to be more at ease than before, hands relaxed in his lap and hair slowly returning to its natural blue.

“Hey,” you croon, grasping his chin gently, “I can guide you, if you’d like. I’m no expert but I do know a bit about… worldly pleasures.”

“A bit more than me, I’m sure.” He replies bashfully, eyes glued to your lips as you draw close once more. You give him only a peck before pulling back, then going back in at the downright desperate look in his eye. Who knew a god would be so easy to bend.

Your hands grasp his in his distraction, pulling them to the edge of your robes. Lost in your kiss, which keeps getting hotter, he pulls the cloth away as you wordlessly command. The robes part easily, fluttering away from your body.

Once his eyes open, he finds himself staring at your bare form, flushing a deeper blue in response. A string of saliva hangs from his slack bottom lip, eyes roaming all of you appreciatively – though he seems much too flustered to admit it aloud.

“Now you.” You whisper, hands delicately placed at the edge of his ornate robes, before he gives a twitchy nod, closing his eyes as you lay him bare to your eyes.

Hands held you pull him to sit against the carved wooden headboard, observing his naked figure as you do. He sure looks godly. 

Idia’s eyes dart in every direction like corner prey, hands clenched around his silk sheets in what you suspect is more excitement than trepidation. You crawl to where he sits, kisses placed in what milky skin you pass by, delighting in his adorable twitching, “You’re a god, right? All you need to do is let me worship you.”

Not a second wasted, you start with his flushed neck, kisses laid against it like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings and still he flinches as if you’ve struck him with a leather whip. Descending to his pale chest, you do the same along with a gentle nibble close to his nipple, soothed quickly with a pass of your warm tongue.

He calls out your name like a prayer – desperate and vulnerable. If you were yourself a god, you think you’d not be too bad at it, since you’d never dare refuse such a humble request.

Your mouth moves almost on its own, your very soul utterly entranced by him and his delicious reactions to the touch of a mere mortal, kissing and licking his chest and abdomen more firmly now, as if it were possible to nibble your way through to the very soul of him and settle yourself there.

Drawing back to allow him to catch his breath, your gaze crawls over the way his features shift from the pleasure, dark blue over his features like watercolor paint. Your hand cradles the side of his face to grab his attention, before your other hand lowers itself to his cock – hard and darkened already, gleaming a faint silver at the tip. It’s beautiful and otherworldly, same as the rest of him and you ache to tug on it until he’s crumbling in your arms as mortals do.

Asking for silent permission with your gaze, you wrap your cool fingers around him once he nods, receiving an instant reaction when his back tenses up as if electricity just passed through him, a moan trapped in the back of his bashful throat. You’re suddenly filled with a need to get those sounds out of him.

Your hands move gently, up and down, grip steady but delicate. His breath is beyond uneven, hitching and exhaling in a rush at the slightest movement. Only a sliver of his eyes is open, watching you shyly, “You’re so beautiful, Idia.”

The face he makes makes it seems as if you’ve stabbed him, so gorgeously stunned for a moment before his head falls back with a breathy whimper, “Don’t– Gods, I–”

Movements continue, a rhythm established; when your thumb ghosts over his tip his whole body twitches. Who but the Fates could’ve foreseen that the man you so despised would end up putty at your feet.

By the way he reacts, Idia is undoubtedly close and so you slowly, carefully, pull your hand away – meeting his befuddled gaze head on as he finally looks you in your lust-darkened eyes, “Not yet,” you tell him.

His breathing is ragged as you place yourself on his lap, feeling the heat of him from the proximity. Hands around his face, you observe the frankly pitiful expression he sports – head lowered as he gazes up at you from beneath dark lashes, blue bottom lip poking outward slightly, “Please…”

You think for a moment that not spoiling this man might just be impossible.

“I’ve got you, my dear.” you whisper tenderly, kissing him sweetly. There’s something in his glowing gaze, an intensity you’ve never seen – he wants this as much as you, even if his mouth refuses to let him admit it.

Wordlessly, you grasp his cock again, moving it towards your drenched center, foreheads touching as he waits for you to move. You do when he’s not expecting it, tearing a sudden moan from deep within his chest as you insert the very tip of him into you.

His face immediately moved to the crook of your neck, hands gripping onto your side with a vice, entire body trembling at the warmth of you. Inch by delicious bitter inch, you sit yourself fully atop his milky lap, listening closely to his ruined breathing and quickened heartbeat. There are moans hiding behind his teeth and they escape him slowly and quietly when he cannot hold them within.

Your name falls from his lovely lips ceaselessly now, on every exhale as you start moving up and down on him, tenderly but firmly. He feels extraordinary inside you, stretching at every sensitive spot perfectly with unknowing precision. Despite how loud he is, you yourself cannot deny the effect he has on your body without even meaning to – you’re losing your mind as you ride him faster and faster without realizing it.

His mouth seals itself upon your neck suddenly, sharp teeth digging into your flesh in a way that would’ve hurt were you still alive, burying his sounds in your skin as you both grow closer and closer, “Almost there, I’ve got y-you, Idia. I’ve g-got you…”

The weakness in your reassurance makes it less convincing, not that Idia notices with how lost in the moment he is, high so close he can taste it on the back of his tongue along with the lingering taste of your skin. 

The very air around you seems to vibrate with undeniable power as Idia finally comes, heaving against your shoulder, noises finally unrestrained.

Your own end catches you off guard, so lost are you in his pleasure, punching the air from your lungs as you slam down on him one last time.

Breaths mingling, you sit for what could be minutes or hours, staring into each other’s heady gazes. His face seems to now be permanently tainted a dark flustered blue, though his eyes hold nothing but bare admiration and affection – a look you’d previously thought him incapable of possessing. You're sure you must look similar.

“I–”

“You don't need to speak–”

“No,” he replies firmly, hand grasping yours against his cheek, nose digging into the softness of your palm tenderly, “I must apologize for the situation I put you in. I had no right to make that decision for you. Even if it all turned out alright in the end.”

“It is the way of the gods, is it not?” You answer dismissively, looking off to the side once the reality of who you’re speaking to crashes down on you. 

Just how different from them can he really be?

You completely miss the dejected look on his face.

[hms-no-fun]

this is like the first Big Transfem Question (whether your egg cracked because someone asked "if you could press a button and be always born a girl right now would you," or whether you just came out to someone for the first time and they asked "omg so are you gonna get/have you gotten The Surgery?") and everyone has their own answers, and their answers often change over time.

i know when i first came out i was pretty firmly disinterested in bottom surgery. part of this was a consequence of having tomboy gender and not really having much bottom dysphoria after HRT made unwanted erections a thing of the past. i felt deeply conflicted about the expectation that as a trans woman obviously i wanted to pursue Traditional Femininity. it quickly grew apparent to me that the pathway to the kind of polished acceptable transness you see in media is a lot of expensive procedures and surgeries and training, and as a lifelong broke bitch i resented that. especially when a trans youtuber made a jab at a clocky transfem earning her transmisogynistic harassment by essentially not trying hard enough to be a woman, that's when it really crystallized for me that i wanted nothing to do with this kind of post-drag-race bitchy high femme gender superiority. it's one thing to say that it's hard work to pass in public as a tall clocky trans girl; it's another thing entirely to act like it's her fault that she's clocky when there are real material and structural roadblocks to her reaching the standard of femininity you're expecting (to say nothing of whether or not she even WANTS to be that kind of feminine). so for me, surgery and laser and vocal training all got wrapped up in this tangle of resentful obligation that i neglected out of spite. i wanted to be a woman in a queer way, not in an assimilationist way.

but like, i did and kinda still do have that baby-trans feeling of like... well, if i could go back in the oven right this second and just sorta swap out for a vagina, i'd do it. this distinction felt important to me because i read a lot of posts about how sex for post-op trans women didn't feel the way they hoped it would, that the sensations were number and the recovery times were terrible and having to dilate was immensely painful and came with huge complications if you didn't maintain it. like there's that awful blaire white clip where she just straight up calls her vaginoplasty "an open wound" that's always trying to heal, and even as you know that's bullshit you kinda can't help but see gruesome post-surgery pics and recovery timelines and be like... well damn idk if i want to put myself through that!

what i've come to understand is that so so so so much of this perception discourse is colored by self selection bias. people don't post when they're pussy is working correctly. people don't post when the sex is good. i mean, maybe they do, but they don't post it in the same places they'd post recovery pics and ask for transition advice. someone who avidly posts through their post-op recovery probably stops posting once their new situation starts feeling normal. you can create the impression for yourself reading this stuff that the gauzy bloody swollen recovery phase lasts forever and is basically the entire experience. on top of that you can convince yourself that the end result never looks like a "real" vagina, because even after the gross part is over and done with it still takes months to a year or more for it to settle into its final shape. so there's ten million pictures of obvious post-op pussies because people post through it when they're sad, then time passes and you learn the rhythm of your new anatomy as it grows into itself, and the whole thing stops feeling like a such big deal. none of which is visible in the posts.

i've now had several friends go through various forms of gender affirming surgery, and the biggest surprise to me has been that it really doesn't seem THAT bad? somehow i got it in my head that these recovery timelines could stretch out for aaaaaaaages, but a friend of mine got the cadillac of bottom surgeries that used a bit of stomach tissue for the interior (paid for with medicaid) and she was back up on her feet in, like, two months-- albeit with serious restrictions on vigorous motion. sure, it seemed uncomfortable, but nowhere NEAR the level i was expecting. dilating is just free time for her to watch anime. same for top surgery, same for an orchi-- there's like a brief window of time where it's an inconvenience, and maybe complications can arise but generally? it kinda just seems like not a big deal. it's not this horribly traumatic invasive disgusting painful process-- it can be some of those things, probably it will be at least one of them for some amount of time, but very likely not all of them and not all at once and rarely to the extreme that we're sometimes led to believe.

honestly, the most annoying, invasive, violating part of surgery is getting the surgery approved. which is fucking hilarious considering the conservative firestorm against trans people is like 80% predicated on the assertion that trans people have too easy access to surgery. are you kidding me??? every trans person i know who has gotten any procedure, afab or amab, has had to get multiple letters from doctors/psychologists, gone through the assessment steps with a healthcare provider and surgeon, then had the whole approval process drag on long enough that their letters expired (a thing letters can do, apparently) which meant having to get new ones which meant pushing back the timeline again. like the level of pathologization and infantalization around essentially medically means-testing these procedures is fucking gonzo. it is a demeaning, demoralizing process ESPECIALLY if you have medicaid, where a parade of medical professionals take turns debating whether or not you're one of the crazy ones who's just doing it for kink and will immediately sue for malpractice afterwards (a cohort that definitely exists in real life), and it can go on for YEARS! if you're a working class trans woman who has to constantly prove her poverty to stay on food stamps, or maintain disability payouts, or just access any social program at all your free time is already dominated by these insanely accusatory administrative burdens that are constantly on the lookout for any excuse to cut you off because you're presumed to be an aspiring welfare queen. so to add the dehumanizing rigmarole of getting gender affirming surgery on the pile as an expected step of transition, at a time when even the nominally left party in the united states wants to make accessing such care even harder, is genuinely so fucking cruel on so many levels it defies my ability to discuss them without going into a frothy-mouthed rage (not very feminine of me, i know).

but the upshot of this is, i've now seen that despite all these burdens, surgery is worth it. most every trans person i know who's gotten one has come away feeling, in some sense, better than they expected. i don't want to oversell it as this like magically perfect experience, it's not, and obviously i haven't gotten surgery myself so i can only speak to what others have told me. but like someone i know got an orchi a couple months ago, and she went in worried about retaining sexual function only to come out after a few weeks of recovery feeling hornier than ever. her bottomwear fit better and made her feel less dysphoric. and somehow, psychologically, it was like a weight lifted off her mind. she felt different, truer to herself in some way. i've seen first hand the nuclear explosion of euphoria the first time a trans girl can really BOUNCE her post-op breasts. conversely i've witnessed the astonishing transformation of a trans man after top surgery, how his entire wardrobe and physical presence completely turned on its head and suddenly he just exuded self-ness. and all of these are trans people who spent years on waiting lists, struggling through letter expiries and clinic closures and staff changes and policy updates and inconsistent insurance requirements. all of them went through a period of recovery, and while some had complications that made their recovery difficult, nobody i know regrets it.

so, yeah, idk. i'm still on the fence about surgery for myself-- i think i'd like an orchi? or perhaps one of those really experimental surgeries where you get a bit of both. i'm certainly still intimidated by a lot of aspects of the process, but it's not scary to me the way it seemed when i first started transitioning. i guess if there's any message to this post it's that this is why having IRL queer community is so important. you might not feel brave enough to get surgery yourself, but someone else is, and maybe by being friends with them through the process (maybe by taking care of their cats while they're stuck in the hospital) you can slowly demystify it and realize that maybe you had the wrong impression all along.

A question for transfems, pick the option that matches the closest to you:

---

Option for nontransfems that want to click buttons: here.

[squinch-depraved]

jschlatt or Ted nsfw alphabet please? 🙏

aight here's schlatt i'm having a lot of fun doing these so i hope y'all are enjoying

A (aftercare- what they're like after sex): i think he's super, super attentive. like he will not leave you alone until he's sure you're all taken care of and cleaned up

B (body part- their favorite on themself and their partner): he likes his chops because you always say they feel good when you sit on his face, and on you he likes your tits

C (cum- anything to do with cum): he loves cumming in you for sure but also down your throat

D (dirty secret of theirs): steals your underwear after sex quite often (see this post for more)

E (experience- how experienced are they): he's had a few partners and knows what he's doing but will still make sure to listen to you and your reactions so he knows what works with you and what doesn't

F (favorite position): riding him with you, like, burying your face in his neck. it feels so intimate and he loves it

G (goofy- are they serious? humorous? etc.): occasionally goofy but tries to keep things either romantic and sensual or rough and carnal. like he'll joke every now and then but doesn't make a point to be funny sometimes it just happens

H (hair- how well groomed/does the carpet match the drapes?): will trim occasionally to keep things neat but like doesn't care too much about it

I (intimacy- how romantic are they?): i feel like he can be very romantic when he's not being super intense like i feel like he really enjoys soft and sweet sex with his partner

J (jorkin' it- how often?): have u heard how much he talks ab gooning like it has to be at LEAST once a day

K (kink/s?): breeding, lactation, feederism (slightly), mommy kink

L (location- favorite place/s to have sex): he's a simple man- bed, couch, or over a counter

M (motivation- what gets them going): arguing with you/seeing you argue with someone else, rlly domestic moments with you like seeing you take care of the cats or watching you cook

N (no- turn offs, dealbreakers): anything in public or at his desk/in his streaming area, recording him is also a no go

O (oral- prefers giving, receiving? skill level?): y'know, i was gonna say giving but i really feel like he would prefer receiving (he's still amazing at giving head don't get me wrong)

P (pace- fast & rough? slow & loving?): if he's being romantic, it's gentle and so, so full of love, but if he's in a different mood it's fast and hard

Q (quickies- their opinion on them): does them for you whenever you need them but like he said in that one sleep deprived clip it takes him forever to cum so like. it's all for you. i can totally see him making a game out of it and trying to get you to finish faster each time

S (stamina- how many rounds? how long do they last?): literally as long as you need him to. if you really tried, you could prob make him cum in, like, an hour? but it takes a lot of work

R (risk- are they down to experiment?): i mean, he will for you, but nothing in public, no recording anything, and don't even think about telling anyone the kind of things you get him to do for you because he'd be so embarrassed

T (toys- do they own toys?): owns a wand for you, a bluetooth vibrator, and a few plugs. (whether they're his or yours i'm not saying)

U (unfair- do they like to tease?): extremely unfair if provoked!! if you behave yourself, you'll be fine. but if you're a brat he's gonna absolutely break you

V (volume- how loud they are): usually soft moans and grunts if he's in charge but get him in sub mode and he'll whimper and whine for you nonstop

W (wild card): not surprising at all but he loves subbing and being pegged

X (x-ray- under their clothes): approximately 8 inches, uncut, has a vein running along it that drives him crazy when you run your tongue along the length of it

Y (yearning- how high is their sex drive?): a bit above average, can go whenever you need him but requests it himself at least every other day

Z (zzz- how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?): once you're all clean and taken care of he is out like a light dude he passes tf out and you gotta deal with his snoring

[haveihitanerve]

Priscillas Final Petal Commentary because one of you lovely children requested i do more of my comments and this was the first video i came across anyway-

(ok i came back afterwards and like good gods its a lot so umm, yeah if you dont care, dont click more bc its a lot to scroll past otherwise)

Luke giggling from the get go at Tom struggling to understand the word Petal

Tom getting the audience to agree the title is pretty good- meanwhile AJ and Luke making eye contact like 👀 you gonna be Priscilla or??? And then AJ nodding. So im pretty sure Luke was just like “you're gonna be her” 

Luke zoning in to Tom’s speech to give a laugh and then immediately moving on to contemplate- meanwhile sam has been dissociating for like a few minutes already- looking to the cosmos for inspiration

All three background boys immediately tensing up when tom says applause bc the scene is starting- are they about to battle over who gets to be Priscilla???? We shall see…

Oh Sam made it there first but AJ was crawling so he's obvi the young girl- and Luke lost he has to stay seated :(

Tom’s little half chuckle at AJ’s “mummy” a split second before it registers with Luke that Sam is, in fact, not AJ’s mummy and cackling

AJ needing to physically touch Sam to be like “that's my bad dude” while grinning

Aj’s weird laugh at “just as cute as you” and then not letting the mummy thing drop bc ofc not why would he XD

“Wide girlish hips” Sam building himself to be the mother lovely lovely pre-planning

“Its a buttercup” beat of surprise because wow Sam didn't expect AJ to know a flower type

Luke’s neck stretch when Sam says “they’re magical” like oh really sam, are they?

“No could you tell… me” idk why he stuttered over that but very interesting and it got a luke laugh and AJ smile so no complaints

Aj complicating things as always, love our confused king

“....” AJ contemplating how he’s about to say this while still being a child.. “.... its magic” Luke and Tom losing it quietly in the background

The way Tom and Luke genuinely look when he holds up the NONEXISTENT FAKE FLOWER TO SEE IF SAM LIKES BUTTER

Also idk if it was intentional or not- but if Sam really is lactose intolerant, AJ just casually knows that he doesn't like butter and actually incorporated it in which is really cute actually- anyway-

“Or a- sandwich!” yes brilliant counter Aj, no one butters a sandwich-genius!

“I spent a lot of time making sure this garden looks lovely” as much as I appreciate the thought sam- hes already picked the flower. Its dead. it doesn't matter what AJ does to it now- its important to the plot moving on..

Aj once again trying to think of something clever to say- “why are you being weird?” nailed it!

“Ey-ey priscilla” yes tom, thats exactly how a mother speaks to her child in this- idk victorian era 

“Is that my mummy this time?” just checking for the scene

Sam once again pointing out story flaws rapid quick- “no time for flowers” “why do you have me?” Luke laughing at it as always- also Tom i saw the flower movement- good stagecraft

Tom contemplating murder. “Because we don't have time.” 

“Not anymore” very nice setting the tone for a plot i can feel it…

“Not.     anymore.” yes it was necessary a second time… 

Those english degrees coming in clutch “ivories tinkling” 

AJ loves being a child character because it means he can ask questions to stuff he doesn't know in the scene lol

“When you get an elephant.” brilliant way to speak to a child again Tom, 10/10 mother

“And when you kill it reaaaallly good.” brilliant- got Luke to clap laugh, lovely

Sam working on stagecraft, good good

“Awww. No.” 

“Can i take this?” “My pen?” for once its not AJ’s fault that the story breaks for a second! victory!

“Her stagecraft is remarkably weak.” oooohhhh shots fired

Tom tensing up like he’s about to jump back into the scene at that second to restore his honor

Yay luke made it into a scene!

Aj’s almost spit take- dude ur the main character you don't get breaks cmon!

Ok but seriously- they were all just going to sit there and watch luke sit in a chair on stage by himself and deliver a monologue or smth??? Like tom is completely at ease, hand propped on his leg watching him, sam is chilling, and aj is drinking- not one of them wanted to join/help him in the scene???? Anyway-

“Um.. da-du-de-” Luke cuts him off- Aj: oh thank god-

For a dude renowned for his lack of skill for remembering names he certainly picks very dangerous ones i gotta say

Luke attempting to make it easier for him. Helga

Luke's massive grin making Tom laugh- bc seriously what does that mean- “sense of familiarity with my students' with the creepiest smile??? Luke what-

“Four hours straight” gorgeous- we got a sam laugh

Why does luke look at the camera like he's in the office???

Luke is struggling to maintain the accent but its good, its good, you got this

“Perhaps selling her body” oooh were gonna have to rewind four times to see everyones reaction- number one- sam laughs loud in shock and surprise and then crosses his legs and covers his mouth- luke i sense a disciplinary meeting in your future- number two- AJ claps a hand over his mouth like a victorian widow learning shocking news(my personal fav of Aj’s laugh tendencies) number three- Tom actually laughs at that- mouth open in surprise, and we get a delightful little “oh wow” look/grin and number four- luke knows the words before they exit his mouth and he is enjoying it- recovers wildly quickly but that's our out of pocket king

“What’d you mean “selling her body”” oh now AJ is using his child question asking for evil hehehehe

And luke shutting it down.. Sigh

“Don't change my name.” oh AJ you were so close!!!

Tom’s mounting amusement as Luke says “jingle bells” 

“Sometimes when im sad I tear off a petal” Tom laughing at the audacity but also- aj- thats terrifying- tf- imagine a little girl looks at you, pulls a flower out of her pocket, and rips off a petal. Like god damn im having nightmares ok-

“WHY ARE YOU SAD HELGA!” um- his name is priscilla, ur helga, also- also terrifying thanks

“No- i-im having a really good time.” uhuh yeah. Me too :) *afraid*

Idk if AJ actually forgot or just wanted to be annoying but how do you forget jingle bells-

“Darling.” *shuffle shuffle* “hi :)” oh sam is afraid- that smile- tom is gonna get him back for the stagecraft comment now, i can feel it. Ohhh sam can too

“Such a shame we couldn't send her to boarding school the old fashioned way.” “..??” “paying for it.” thats actually brilliant- im stealing that for everyday use-

While Tom is speaking about Priscillas talent- AJ watching from the corner with his tongue in his cheek- just waiting for his musical talent to be insulted lol(also very attractive look gotta say-)

“Earl of saxony.” idk why this made luke laugh but its such a delight to see him slowly spiral into heavier laughter

Also- he snaps out of it so fast- immediately joins the scene- brilliant

AJ amused because Luke’s getting yelled at and not him

Poor luke cant even sit down because theyd still come after him lmaoo

“I hope your kid dies of tuberculosis” damn! Again, stealing that

The really awkward Tom reach forward to put his hand on Sam’s shoulder kills me every time. Especially because his arm flexes like a beat before he does it- should i, should i not- before going for it lol

“Garden.” oh rumpled has some feelings he’d like resolved…

“We used to go through strolls…” “we did used to go through strolls, i cant go through any more of them.” This entire scene kills me so much i adore it yes Tom, preach. Sam always gives everyone else so much shit- uno reverse baby!!! XD

Luke and AJ loosing their minds is also my life blood

Sam confused as to how its wrong- but wants to correct “You didn't let me finish.” 

Tom put his entire cunt into that leg cross and perch of his fingers against his chin, slay king

“We used to go through strolls through the orchard.” Oh- now tom seizes the opportunity to do some stage craft just to add extra salt on the wound-

Tom’s disappointed head shake as Luke and AJ explode with laughter is my everything

Sam’s angry rant of “is that not correct?? No- no- no- because you've got two english degrees” idk but the fact that he just knows that so quickly is everything to me

AJ and Tom are enjoying this far too much- both arching forward to listen because they're little shits :)

“It is both incorrect and Im busy on my stagecraft right now so-” (ok to anyone who is just as confused as sam- the correct terminology would be “we used to go for strolls” not through or “we went on strolls” etc etc)

“Darling borrow my newspaper.” Oooh sam I see you- trying to mess with Tom’s stagecraft make him seem like its so poor he’s “reading newspaper” when hes clearing eating… smth, idk but very clever, very clever

Also- pointing it out- firstly its probably because they know the other person would never let it go- but secondly, they're so dedicated and such good actors to their craft that Sam literally reaches over and removes the nonexistent newspaper off the nonexistent food- idk it just makes me happy. Also they do it so well

‘WHOS STAGECRAFT IS WEAK NOW DARLI-” yes tom, get your revenge lol

“...doesn't it?” oh yes sam, create a new plot point and then require Tom to expand upon it and create the actual story. Brilliant thinking and a dick move but its so funny

Shit eating grin the whole time too

“It. does.” tom said calmly

“Why are you laughing at me now, i cant fire you.” lol tom never change

Ok Tom didn't like Sam’s interruption so now he's changing the plot and making it a horror story- we love, we love

Aj’s hand covering mouth laughter again, love it sm

“That should be quite obvious. The fact that were having to discuss it at all is inane and foolish” ok so tom is still not over the stagecraft comment- got it

Luke's laughter from backstage- still not sitting down because hes afraid

“This is the prettiest i ever saw her.” SAM HES STILL MAD ABOUT STAGECRAFT NO- “WOW.” aaand there it is. ofc tom is now an ally of the dead wife just to spite sam lmaooo

“A girl like me-” AJ’s hand laugh again <333

“Selling your body.” smooth tom, smooth

“No more violence” veryyy smooth sam

“That bitch.” he had to- also, Tom, where’d the cigarette come from- when’d you light it- stagecraft people!!!

“I lit this cigarette on a candle.” ah- there it is “what wonderful stagecraft-” and AJ ends it because otherwise they’d keep it up forever i just know. Entertaining- but not very helpful to the story sadly lol

Luke pointing out the flaws, “which is a region in germany, despite half the workforce being english and the other german” slay king slay

Excellent stagecraft AJ, 10/10 of opening the window

Excellent voice acting, all around- Sam’s… owl hooting thats the one, perfect- and Tom’s really creepy “come to the garden” is top notch- so thats why he was so insulted on… Annabelle's behalf- he is her

“Buttercup im a little bit scared” why is he talking to the flower now- this wasn't in the trailer-

“But ill use you to- *breaks* shine a light- *laughs* so i can see*grinning*” everyone breaks and its beautiful

Wholly shit- AJ understanding immediately and perfectly that Sam standing up and going “fwoosh” was him pretending to be the owl and not being confused like “tf are you doing” is such good subtle accuracy and just shows how long they’ve been together and- i need to calm down 

“Strange mound by a tree” subtle aj, very subtle

Oh!- oh!- oh, nope Luke, sorry, Tom beat you to it again. Damn. now he gets to be the dead wife- not you. (as much as you want to be sam’s lover- who said that?)

Pointing the flower like its a glock… very nice stagecraft aj, wonderfully done

“I cant see, I don't have my buttercup with me” brilliant work luke, smashing really- call back and humor, all in one five stars 👏

AJ being taller than sam- randomly standing now also, instead of kneeling like before, Priscilla had a random growth spurt- anyway- and not making a single effort to even pretend be shorter for the crying scene gives me life

AJ DOING BETTER MATH THAN SAM!!! YAY!!!

“Why are you speaking in the third person?” good recovery sam, now the attentions back on AJ

“What will really happen?” “you'll become lactose intolerant.” AJ side eyeing Tom, currently sitting with the audience like, “you sure? Thats all thatll happen?” 

Whoever was sitting in the audience and did a dramatic inhale when Sam went “and you'll break the c-” i love you

“You were going to say break the curse.” AJ's so proud he managed to piece that one together

“No thats not- no!” AJ let himself come out a lil- sweety, baby, you're supposed to be a three foot tall little girl, not a six foot tall man, he is towering over Sam, thats not how Priscilla works- moving on

“Y'know before i was a groundskeeper here…” “oh boy.” yeah aj, you regret tempting him now

Assassin was the last thing on my bingo card of things i thought sam would say but ok

“I feel like this is above my paygrade.” so now luke is trying to weasel out of a scene instead of into it… hmmm

“Im part of the yorkshire reserves.” idk what kinda inside joke this is, but it took luke out, dude literally did a disappointed tom dad head shake and covered his whole face with only one hand, goodness sam

“You say ‘would you like a nice cup o’ tea?’... and then you stab ‘em.” Sam i love you, never change

“When i went over to that buttercup… nest.” Ig AJ doesn't know the name for flowerbed but okay(even tho im pretty sure he said it earlier but wtv) Luke’s laugh literally gave me chills, firstly it was delayed, secondly its the deepest its ever been and just like-wow

“I have a real mum!” “no!... no.. no.” so i guess everyone is taking their cues from Tom and repeating things more than once to highlight the importance. Also Aj barely holding back a smile is so cute- especially since Sam can smile at him bc hes not facing the audience

And luke loosing his mind to laughter again, always a classic

“Uh i went scottish there-” just amusing to me

“But luckily im also a wizard.” very very very smooth sailing sam, classically done, nice way to round out the story

Luke loosing his mind, AJ almost breaking on stage, and we cant see Tom but im pretty sure hes losing it as well

“Magic!” I just adore every time AJ says magic in his little girl voice, its so precious

“Leave it. Or I’ll bleed you.” well thats a threat if i've ever heard one oh my gods- AJ looks terrified

“I will protect you with the best stagecraft you've ever seen.” Ahh good ol tom with the one liners who breaks everybody

(sam and aj leaning against each other with their laugh ahdtbdjhfgtgewbsdc- too cute<33)

“Don't bitch out on me” -luke moved too fast, AJ broke before he was sitting back down XD

“What are you sinking about?” ok idk if Luke knows or not, but thats a common german meme, im not gonna write it all down rn but no one laughed so im assuming he doesn't know, anyway made me chuckle, moving on

Sam losing his mind at “i called you helga” as he should

TOM HOPPING ON STAGE FROM WHERE HES SITTING IN THE AUDIENCE TO JOIN THE SHOW- i cant with this man seriously XD

“With you two bvitches!” you tell 'em Aj(also yes the v is intentional, he said with with pizzazz and thats what the v adds)

“I don't like music it sounds the same!” as a person who pursues music- y'know what ill let it lie nvmind

“You always make me playing fffff-fucking jingle bells” y'know what its understandable now, carry on,

“Whos annabelle.” ok screw this audience- no one gasped dramatically or ooohhhhed- HE JUST REVEALED A MAJOR PLOT POINT GUYS SHOW SOME EMOTION- i need to calm down

Ok Tom chuckled in the audience and its redemption enough for me- he even moved his shoulders with laughter- ok im back in it

Sam’s forced smile at “rumple told me” is so iconic he did that so well omg-

“GET PLUCKING!” might be the scariest thing i've ever heard- but it was accompanied by a lovely luke laugh so its balanced

“She was not… well.” “OH. WOW” tom can be offended on his own behalf this time

“She was cruel, she was cold… and her stagecraft was terrible.” YES SAM- SNAP SNAP- SLAY DIVA YESSSS

Also everyone breaking on stage is lovely, always love the shared laughs

“I will accept two of those three criticisms.” how gracious tom

Complaining about past skits/productions, sam is just airing out all his grievances i love them so much omg-

Luke literally folding from laughter

“Well if you bury all your women..” Sam’s hand snapped up so fast. “One. I've only buried one.” ☝️

AJ SINGING!!! YESSSS

The utter chaos in this scene is the best thing in the world, all four of them on stage at once is always a treat

… is tom sucking Luke’s soul out of his body through his face using his hand? I have so many questions...

…why did it make him snap his own neck????

Why are they harmonizing?!?!?!

Sam literally she hates you because you always insult her stagecraft and when she digs her way out of hell the first thing you do is insult her stagecraft??? I mean, it is, admittedly, confusing stagecraft… but THATS NOT THE POINT!

“Oh i don't like this at all!” nor do i sam… nor do i… *the writer is horrified… and very amused*

THEY KILLED SAM?!?!?!?!?!?! 

Also AJ casually successfully mouthing every word Tom says is insane skill and very well done

“Mummy…” ok.. And aj takes the most terrifying person crown again…

“Piano lesson.” yeah im sensing a lot of pent up anger…

"Plinky plonky. Every day.” sounds like a legitimate reason, but if she thinks plinky plonky is the sound a piano makes then i understand why shes in lessons-

Also- aj successfully made tom crack a smile on stage, well done

Also aj- made eye contact with luke off stage and made him fold again

“You look different.” Ok but Tom’s hand raised and like, little crimp is so totally a mom move his stagecraft is excellent-

“Have you had your-*stutters* first period?” now thats class A humor, and im so glad it broke aj and sam

AND IT MADE LUKE DO DISAPPOINTED DAD HEAD SHAKE AND HAND OVER FACE. good work tom

“Is it a light, medium or heavy flow?” y'know what im so fucking glad he knows what those all are, and i know the others do too, love them all truly

Tom having to run back and forth as both mothers… ahhhh i love when they play two interacting characters its so funny

“Get out of my daughter” careful word choice tom… yep- sams exploding with laughter, luke is dying, and even AJ is blinking at you in concern(tbf tom immediately regretted it, but it was worth the laughs)

“Mummy help!” “can you clarify which one you're talking to?” Tom never change, i love you. “Im talking to my mummy!” im assuming he means the one thats not possessing him, and honestly thats so cute, aj knows what the people want, and the people want priscilla to love her adopted/found family?? Mother- anyway keep watching to see..

… what is it with them breaking Tom’s fingers??? 

… did sam just “rumple” charge his wand by like..  Loading it like a shotgun??? stagecraft…

Oh ok they're two separate things…

The slow mo i adore these idiots omg-

“You're only making our bond stronger-” before he even finished AJ is pulling closer again, damn to have that instinctual friendship is insane

AJ SINGING!!!!

“Shut the fuck up” aj hes trying to further the plot- shhhh

Quick thinking Luke- Priscilla, Queen of the Dessert, real song, totally real, good good great, you could've said literally anything else, but ok

Tom switching to the adoptive mother because thats the one who really knows her is honestly so sweet- my heart

Sam getting to shoot Tom is always great. Working out their anger in a calm, reasonable manner

“Wow.” tom is really milking these wows huh

“I mean she did raise you.” Tom just cause he doesn't know the word “biological mother” doesn't mean- y'know what whatever- Aj i understand what you mean- you're a good daughter !

“No don't fuck with me like that okay?” yes aj! Fight back(casually drops the girl voice to become AJ to actually yell at Tom, ugh i love him)

“Ill be seeing you… ill be seeing youuuu” again with the repetitions goodness

“Byebye.” damn it tom he almost made it without breaking!

“AND SCENE!” From both Sam and Luke. perfect ending. 

Tom finally rejoining the stage and exiting the audience

Anyway thats all, thanks for reading this entire like book worth of comments, lots to say and lots of it is meaningless but anyway hope it added a dash more humor to their brilliance and yeah… my thoughts 🙂

@dawn-speckled you said you wanted my thoughts and damn do i have a lot of them lol, anyway hope it brought you some joy:)

[murdrdocs]

mega stockholm syndrome; dubcon; extremely implied/detailed coercion; reader is called “good girl” once w/ NEGAN SMITH

"come on, don't be shy. let me in there."

the tip of negan's cock nudges against your entrance, unable to slip in just yet due to the tension you're holding throughout your entire body. you could continue to put up a fight, close your legs and push him out of the way. you know he'll leave you alone, at least in this regard, but non compliance doesn't fly with negan. you've learned that it's better to get it over with and deal with the guilt and distaste in your mouth later.

except, you don't think there'll be any of that this time.

it's shameful for you to admit it, even to yourself, but you want this. for possibly the first time since being here, you want to feel negan glide his cock into you. you want to feel him through the thin barrier of a miraculously not expired condom. maybe you even want to feel him without the condom, something you've never thought you would ever want in a world like this.

with a forced exhale, you loosen your entire body and negan takes the chance he's given.

"there we go," he drags over every single syllable until he sounds like he's cooing. "there she is." he easily slides in, his eyes watching you take each agonizing inch of him.

you don't mean to let these sounds slip out of your mouth, you're just trying to breathe through it, but your breaths take on a pleasurable lilt, gentle whines and moans slipping out amongst the air.

negan grins, big and proud down at you, and you want to hate the look, the predator glint in his eyes, the cockiness shining off of his teeth. but something about it all makes pride bloom in your chest.

it only multiplies when he tells you, sincerely you think, "i'm proud of you, sweetheart. getting better and better everytime." because you know he's right.

you are getting better and better.

you're getting better at all of this. better at fitting him in, an action that was so foreign in the beginning that it felt like an intrusion. you know that it was, all of this was an intrusion, it should feel uncomfortable but day by day it becomes more and more secure. you're becoming better at being here with the saviors, more acquainted with violence and hostility that poured from every single pore of every single person in this place. you're becoming better at being his, better at being there for him. better at knowing what your job is.

and it's this. plain and simple. 

you remember hershel used to say everyone had their jobs. you remember maggie and beth using different iterations of the mantra to keep themselves going. you picked it up then, reminding yourself that everyone has their jobs while you were living in the quaint community you all had created, and lost, in the prison.

now, you use it to keep yourself afloat with the saviors. everyone has their jobs, yours just happens to be completely untraditional.

negan won't tell you that this is what he has you for. he likes to paint himself as morally superior in that way, acting as if you had a choice, acting as if you chose to be his little lapdog. he acts as if you do more than pleasure him when he pleases. according to his self-deluded words, you boosted morale—a reminder to everyone that life did have its pleasures, even in times like these. you think you're a reminder to the saviors that only negan could have his cake and eat it, too. and he eats it as much as he wants.

but you also know you're a warning to your group that no one is safe, and everything can be swept out from under them in a moments notice if they chose not to comply.

so compliance is what you have to do. it’s just coming to you naturally now, blending the line between compliance and sheer want. you don’t know what this is now.

when negan throws your legs over his shoulders and leans closer to you, you don't curl away from his body. when his free hand slinks up your stomach and rests over your tits, you don't feel uncomfortable. you feel the opposite when he sandwiches your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, almost painfully tweaking the bud between his rough hands.

maybe this is some sick way for you to cope, or maybe you just genuinely want this. giving into your base bodily desires, arching your back and pushing your cunt further towards negan, trying to get him to give you more without having to ask for it, for verbally requesting him to use you would not only be too humiliating for you to come back from, but it would let negan know that you don't exactly hate him as much as you claim. or, at least, you don't hate all of him as much as you claim.

negan's lips part as if he's going to say something, but then he stops. you think he's going to make you tell him just how much you like this. you worry he's going to make you beg for an orgasm, and you'll either have to tuck your tail between your legs and leave here without getting off, or do as he says to get what you want. but he doesn't.

he nudges the tip of your nose with his, and for a moment you think he's going to kiss you and cross into territory that hasn't been explored yet. but he doesn't.

he may be intruding within you, but he doesn't go too far, and it's truly the bare minimum but it does something to you.

you move your leg from negan's shoulders and wrap it around his waist, making the choice to pull him closer to you.

the smile negan gives you is so big and full of so much pride that you can't help but feel a little bit of pride for yourself, too.

"oh?" he says, slowly letting his tongue glide over his bottom lip. he pulls back, taking your other leg and pulling it into the same position. he grips your hips and drives into you with long, deep strokes, praising you the entire time, calling you a good girl, telling you just how proud he is, telling you that he knew you would start to fit in here.

when he makes you come, it's to the sound of his cock slipping in and out of you and his voice—something that once evoked fear in you from the moment he had you on your knees in that introductory lineup that changed so much of your life, but now something that creates an inciting fear. a sort of fear that has you wanting to crawl back to him.

[tofics]

🫠🫠 Oh how the plot thickens!!!

Seems like nasty runs in the Miller genes here. (And I'm totally here for it.) Wonder what's gonna happen if Joel finds out Tommy's sick too...? 👀 If he is, of course. With how locked up Joel keeps her in the house, I wouldn't be surprised if her immune system simply isn't used to shit.

I also think you did a fantastic job of showing just how good exactly Joel is at blurring the lines between what's okay and what isn't. The never ending reminder that everything he does for (and to) her, he does out of love. And obviously, love is a good thing, right? So if it's done out of love, even if it hurts or is uncomfortable, surely it's still a good thing in the long run.

No wonder the reader's got a massive case of Stockholm Syndrome for dark Joel daddy.

But! We finally get a deeper glance at her emotional turmoil!

You’ve told Joel that before, that you feel used when he does things like this to you. He says he understands, but it’s not supposed to feel good. It’s a punishment. It’s discipline, and he disciplines you out of love. He loves you, pumpkin. 

!!! A+++ gaslighting on Joel's part. Oh, this feels uncomfortable? You don't like this? You're feeling exactly how you're supposed to under normal circumstances? But baby, don't you know, I'm doing this for you. Out of love.

Not to mention that this notion immediately becomes reinforced when Joel notices that she was, in fact, telling the truth, and begins giving her a big fat portion of lovingly being doted on. You write it so well that even I am almost inclined to forget how bad his abuse is. I mean, look at him! Apologizing, making sure she's comfortable in PJ's and extra blankets, even allowing more screen time although he had lots to say about how bad it was for her just moments ago. Isn't he just the sweetest?

Again, hats off to you for capturing these two sides of Joel so well, perfectly demonstrating what a master manipulator Joel is.

And on top of that, the extremely fascinating moment where he realizes that oh shit, she was telling the truth and immediately regrets his punishment?!?! And doesn't just regret it, but begins tearing up over it!!! Like all the physical and mental bruises he's left on her previously are fine because they were justified in his mind, but now? Where he accidentally caused her harm in a moment where she didn't deserve it in his eyes? He's absolutely heartbroken. My god that's so fucked up. I love it.

Like, hell yeah, he'll leave you outside rotting with a broken leg for an extra day if it means you won't try escaping yet again, but God forbid he hurts you unintentionally. How fucked up you are, dark daddy Joel Miller.

Love love love love looooooved this chapter!!!! If you're still planning on turning this into a series where you show how this duo came to be, I think this chapter is a perfect indicator that you very much have what it takes to make the background story as dark and thrilling and exciting as it deserves to be. You are SO good at capturing all the awful and wonderful moments of their relationship, perfectly demonstrating how easily the good can cancel out the bad and how much of a mindfuck that can be.

Thank you for this!!! Once more, outstanding work! 🥰💓

Throat Coat

Joel doesn’t make your sore throat feel better, but he does make it worse.

Tags - smut, one shot, dark daddy!joel, rough blow job, facefucking, deep throating, cum swallowing, kissing, hitting/swatting, dubcon, daddy kink, dd/lg dynamics, thick n girthy (legal + unspecified) age gap, controlling!joel, Joel is all mean and grumpy and short with you, sexy comforting father figure!Joel, Joel feels guilty for hurting you and cries a little, so he babies you and you milk it just a little. you deserve it. hurt/comfort, dark fluff, non-graphic descriptions of illness (sore throat + strep), tommy makes an appearance...planting some seeds here... ;) 3.6k words A/N - heddo! if you're sick rn I’m hugging you. And if you’re not sick, you will be and I’ll hug you then too. Wash your fuckin' hands ya beautiful freaks

“Set the table f’me, pumpkin.”

Joel’s voice is low as he watches you slowly get up from where you sit on the couch, pausing in place to no-doubt roll your eyes before shuffling toward the kitchen. You don’t look right - you’re dragging your feet and your eyes are droopy, there’s a big pout on your lips. Shoulders are slouched forward like you’ve been carrying the weight of the world upon them. Brows knit in some kind of upset as you move lazily, and Joel’s jaw ticks as you let the cabinets slam shut instead of closing them gently, like he’s asked you to do. 

After setting the plates and the forks down at yours and Joel’s respective seats at the dinner table, you fill two glasses with water, bumping into Joel and splashing him as you move through the kitchen. “Hey - watch where you’re goin’, kid,” he gruffs, shaking his head as he bites his inner cheek in frustration. He narrows his eyes at the way you don’t say anything. There’s no sorry, no excuse me. Joel makes a note of this. “Gonna be one of those nights, huh,” he grumbles. 

You’re sulking in your chair now, making no effort to even glance at Joel as he brings the hot dishes to the table. Arms crossed, eyes fixed on the wood grain. Joel serves you first, a large helping of green beans and potatoes, an even larger helping of chicken. “I can already tell just by lookin’ at ya that you ain’t eaten enough protein today,” he grumbles, eyeing you. “Gonna be a peach for me, aren’t ya?”

“Mm,” you hum, the noncommittal noise dripping with defiance. You hate when he reads you like this. His unique ability to pinpoint your mood or your attitude, your state of being. Uncovering the things you seek to hide. Joel knows you better than you know yourself in some ways, and it’s as infuriating as it is validating at times. He understands you, all of you, and he’s always there, filling in the gaps of what you don’t tell him. You can’t get anything past Joel.

Joel serves himself next and begins eating, shoveling bite after bite into his mouth. He’d worked up quite a fierce appetite today, spending his time shoveling snow and doing other arduous housework while you sneakily evaded your own chores. You poke a little at your food with your fork, scraping the metal along the porcelain while ultimately deciding that you don’t want to eat. You push your plate away and lay your head down in your arms on the table. 

Joel’s hand lands firmly on your bicep. “Nuh-uh. You sit up at the table. What’s the matter with you?”

You groan as you reluctantly pull your body up, head throbbing with the action like a heartbeat. You can feel blood pumping in your face, a pressure behind your eyes and nose and forehead so awful you feel like your face could melt right off. “M’not hungry,” you grumble, voice thick with discomfort. 

“Oh, I don’t believe that for a second. Yes, you fuckin’ are,” Joel says, spearing a green bean with his fork. “I know you are, so don’t even try it. You’re gonna eat, ‘cause I already know what’s gonna happen: s’gonna be bedtime and you’re gonna be whinin’ ‘bout how your stomach hurts ‘cause you didn’t eat enough at dinner and who’s gonna have to fix you somethin’?”

“No one,” you mutter.

“Me,” Joel corrects, without missing a beat as he shoots you a warning glare. “Now you get to it. An’ I wantcha eatin’ everything that’s green on that plate, do you understand me?”

“Fine,” you sigh, dragging your plate back towards you. You pick up your fork but instead of actually eating, you just maneuver the food around on the plate a little. The green beans are cut into smaller bites, potatoes shoveled into a neat little pile. The occasional scraping sound your fork makes against the porcelain makes you wince, but you ignore it. Just killing time. 

Joel serves himself a second plate of food, fork hovering over his plate when he pauses and notices that you’ve still not touched yours. “What’d I tell you? Or are ya waitin’ to eat it cold?”

You shrug, earning another cold look from Joel. He doesn’t like when you waste your food, and his patience is wearing thin. “I just don’t feel so good,” you tell him, sniffling softly. Your throat’s been scratchy all day, and you can’t breathe too well. You feel awful. 

Joel drops his fork and leans forward, chair creaking with his shifting weight. He presses a calloused hand against your forehead, and the added pressure actually soothes your throbbing pain, just for a moment. His fingers travel down your face and with practiced ease, he presses two fingers just under your jaw, feeling your lymph nodes. “Feel fine t’me,” he says, pulling back.

Not the response you were looking for. “Daddy…” you whine, elongating the word in a bid for his sympathy.

“Mhm,” Joel hums, a knowing lilt to his tone. You claim to be sick a lot when you’re simply dehydrated or attempting to get out of something. “Heard this one before,” he says, leaning back in his chair, arms crossing over his broad chest. “You’re not pullin’ one over on me. I know you, pumpkin.”

“I’m serious,” you argue.

“So am I. Drink your water f’ya feel so bad. That’s your problem, sweetheart, you’re never drinkin’ enough water. I tell ya a hundred times a day to hydrate yourself.”

“B-”

“M’not havin’ this argument,” Joel cuts in, voice firm. He’s right, too. Nine times out of ten you’re poorly hydrated, which is usually the reason for when you feel like crap. Dehydration is certainly playing a role today, too, as much as you hate to admit it. “Drink.” He snaps and points to your glass, watching how you roll your eyes as you take it, just to needle him a little. “And adjust that fuckin’ attitude a’ yours, ‘fore I adjust it for you. S’that what you want?” 

“No,” you mumble into your glass. You drink about half the water, then set the glass down and stare at Joel pointedly. 

“Keep goin’. Drink it all, kiddo,” Joel urges gently, taking himself down a notch as his voice loses its edge. You obey him, finishing the glass. “Good girl.” You smile a little, just a momentary little curve of your lips. The praise feels good. For as stern as he can be, Joel is quick to let go of anger. Patient, to a point. But not always. “Bet you’re feelin better already, aren’t ya?”

“No,” you whine, though Joel is right that the water helped. Can’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing that, though. “I still feel like shit.” 

“Watch the language,” Joel scolds, anger renewed. “Y’feel like shit ‘cause you’re runnin’ yourself ragged. You’re tired. Spendin’ too much time watchin’ that goddamn TV. And I know you’ve been sneakin’ down here to watch it after bedtime. Did it last night too, didn’t ya?”

“N-” 

“Don’t even try it,” Joel bites, his glare pinning you in place. A warning. 

“Yeah…I did,” you admit. He’s right again. “But I’m serious, Joel, I really don’t feel good.” 

“Tough,” he says, no sympathy in his tone. “Let it be a lesson to ya. Take care of yourself and you won’t feel so bad. Now you quit your cryin’, sit up straight, and eat your damn food, or so help me god I’ll shove somethin’ else down your throat of yours. S’your last warning,” he adds as he stares you down. Eyes still fixed on you, he raises his brow and points at you, “Don’t make this a bad night, now, pumpkin.” 

“You’re not f- you’re not listening,” you seethe, frustration bubbling over. You plant your elbows on the table and bury your head in your hands to stand your ground, refusing to back down. It’s his short temperedness to your stubbornness, your oppositional defiance. Things work out better for you when you listen to him, and you know this. But you can’t help yourself but to buck him anyway. Joel always tells you that he gives you an inch and you take a mile. 

“Oh, s’that’s how we’re doin’ this?” Joel snaps, and you’re in for it now. “Fine.” He grabs you by the forearm in a bruising grip and yanks you out of your chair, forcing you over the table. “Go ‘head, keep fuckin’ testing. Watch what happens.” He pulls down your pants and panties unceremoniously, giving you less than a moment’s notice before he smacks your ass, hard. His large hand on your head, pressing your face into the wood so hard that the pattern of the grain will be imprinted on your cheek. You cry out as he slaps your flesh, each hit worse than the last. He leaves you bruised and raw by the end of it, sniffling as the sting bites your skin. Usually he rubs you to soothe the ache... 

…But not tonight. Tonight, Joel pushes you to the ground, knees scraping on the hardwood floor as he drags you where he wants you. Eyes wide, mouth open as your bottom lip wobbles. Joel palms his growing erection, momentarily massaging himself over his jeans before unbuckling his belt. He tosses it on the ground, that metallic clanging sound piercing your ears. He unzips his jeans next and pushes them just enough down his thighs to free his cock, fully hardened now. He holds it menacingly between his thumb and his first two fingers, heavy balls sitting above the waistband of his boxers. 

Joel reaches forward and tangles a hand in your hair, looping his fingers around the strands to pull them tight. “Open,” he barks. You part your lips a little, and Joel fits the thick, blunt head of his cock between them. “That ain’t enough,” he says, slapping the tip against your bottom lip. “Wider. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

After you open your mouth wider for him, Joel begins sliding himself down your throat. He’s met with a little resistance as you pull back, wrapping your hand around the base of him in attempt to temper the force of which he fucks your mouth with. Joel slaps your cheek, “Don’t,” he warns, and pulls your hand away.

He forces himself down your throat entirely, the hand on the back of your head keeping you still even as you gag and choke on his cock. You’re panicked, pulling back but Joel holds you firmly, unwavering in his strength. “Stay,” he says. “You’re fine. Breathe through your nose.”

You open your jaw and your throat, surrendering to it as Joel begins fucking your mouth, drawing in and out of your mouth inch by inch. Tensing up makes it worse, makes it hit you harder. He tastes salty today, smells headier than usual. His graying patch of pubic hair scratches your nose, and if he fucks your face any harsher it’ll rub your skin raw.

Joel grunts loudly, growling your name and a series of words that he doesn’t let you say. None of it feels pleasant for you, not that you can vocalize that. His cock’s down your throat, further irritating what’s already scratchy and sore. You feel so…used. 

You’ve told Joel that before, that you feel used when he does things like this to you. He says he understands, but it’s not supposed to feel good. It’s a punishment. It’s discipline, and he disciplines you out of love. He loves you, pumpkin. 

Joel fucks your mouth with abandon, and you can’t control those choking, gurgling noises you make. Drooling all down his shaft, down his balls. Your eyes start to water before you cry freely, not that Joel cares. “Cry all ya want,” he grunts, and you whine in discomfort. Joel ignores that.

You have to hold his twitching, meaty thighs for stability as he moves your head back and forth on his cock repeatedly, clutching him tightly. Your jaw aches with the ferocity of how he moves, ferocity that borders on violence. 

“Look at me,” Joel pants. “Look at Daddy.” 

He strokes your cheek tenderly for a moment, a brief reminder that he loves you, even if it hurts sometimes. Still fucking your face, Joel reaches between his legs and cups his balls, squeezing them a little as your throat pulses around his length, tongue massaging that thick vein that climbs the underside of his cock. “Almost there, pumpkin. Be good for Daddy. Stay like that,” he groans, signaling release is near. 

You whimper as his cock twitches in your mouth, and with a few more hard, deep thrusts, Joel feels that warm, sticky feeling. His balls tighten, his muscles tense and release as he lets out a deep, guttural groan, pulling out of your throat to paint your tongue in his come. “Swallow it,” he instructs softly, pulling back the rest of the way. A bit of come spills down your lips and onto your chin. 

Joel’s chest heaves with heavy breaths, watching you swallow his load. Your cheeks are hot and sweaty, hairline damp with glittering sweat. Joel drops to his knees then, joints cracking while sinking to your level. He pushes his stray come past your swollen lips, “Lemme see,” he says. “Show me that tongue, pumpkin.” 

It’s routine. You always take what Joel gives you, always. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, and that’s when Joel sees it. The angry redness, the swollenn tissue, the white sores on the back of your throat. His breath catches, a quiet gasp escaping him as his face softens in an instant. He whispers, voice thick with guilt, “Oh shit, kid. Fuck. You weren’t lyin’.”

“Told you, Daddy,” you reply, feeling both hurt and validated.

Joel nods, clenching his jaw as regret floods his face. “Yeah, you did,” he murmurs, guilt filling every corner of his mind. You really did tell him, and you told him multiple times. “Did I make it worse?” he whispers, holding your face in both of his hands, rough thumbs caressing your skin as his eyes search yours. Hesitant to answer, you pull away from his gaze. 

“You can tell the truth,” he urges, and his voice is both soft and insistent. “You won’t be in trouble. Cross my heart, baby girl.” 

You pause. Finally, you admit it. “...Yes,” you whisper. 

Joel’s face crumples. “Daddy’s so sorry, kiddo.” His voice cracks. “I really am. I shoulda listened to ya. C’mere, pumpkin.” His hands fall to your shoulders before he pulls you into a tight hug, and it takes you no time at all to hug him back just as tightly. This is all you wanted - his warmth, his comfort. 

After holding you there on the kitchen floor for a while, Joel sniffles and presses kisses to the top of your head, one after another. “With me,” he says, and his voice sounds thick. He doesn’t let you see the tears he wipes away as he leads you to the upstairs bathroom. 

Joel sits you down gently on the lidded toilet, opens the bathroom vanity and pulls out an old Walgreens thermometer, the once-bright red paint all but worn off. He washes it with soap and hot water, then brings it to your mouth. “Open up,” he says, cradling your jaw tenderly in his hand. “Goes under your tongue.” 

You open your mouth and lift your tongue, wincing when Joel slides the thermometer into place. “Ow,” you whine. “You poked me.” 

“I apologize. Was an accident, baby,” Joel murmurs, adjusting the thermometer. “Close your mouth and keep it there a minute.” 

You wait in silence as the device takes your temperature, and it makes a quiet, rhythmic beep when it’s done. Joel pulls it from your mouth and squints, jaw dropping a little as he reads the tiny number on the tiny screen. “Shit,” he mumbles. “Lemme see your throat again.” You open your mouth wide for Joel, and he tilts your head back and faces you toward the light so he can better see, a worried furrow in his brow. “Mmm…m’wonderin’ f’ya don’t have strep throat,” he says with concern. “We’ll keep an eye on it, though. You tell me if you start to feel worse, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.” 

Joel eyes you, wondering how you could’ve caught something like this under his watch, especially when he’s not been sick lately. “How’d you get sick, huh? Been sneakin’ outta the house? Got yourself a boyfriend you ain’t tellin’ me about?”

“No,” you insist, and Joel doesn’t fight you hard on it. It was mostly a joke anyway. 

“Maybe Uncle Tommy brought it in when he stopped over to check on ya the other night,” Joel says. And he might be right. You don’t have a secret boyfriend you’ve been kissing, but…

Uncle Tommy did visit not so long ago. Joel was on an overnight patrol shift and had felt nervous leaving you home alone, as he so often does. He’d asked Tommy to swing by to check up on you. 

It was late when he entered through the back door, walking in on you curled up on the couch, a romance novel in your hands. Joel says he knows what goes on in those books and doesn’t like you reading them. You gasped, “Fuck, Uncle Tommy!”

Tommy wore that disarming smile of his. “Language,” he chastised, with no real anger in his tone. You scrambled to get back upstairs, but Tommy waved his hand. “Ain’t gonna rat you out,” he said, taking a seat next to you. His eyes twinkled as they dropped to your book, “Whatcha reading?”

“Nothing.” You shrunk under his curious gaze.

“Mm-hmm,” he smirked, taking the book out of your hands to inspect the cover. “This certainly ain’t nothin’.”

“I know, but–”

“You’re not in trouble.” 

Tommy smiled kindly at you, dark eyes sparkling and warm. You’ve always found him handsome, handsome like Joel. Pretty in the same ways, age softening his features. You like his freckles, his long, black hair. 

“M’just checkin’ in. Don’t get to see enough of ya, you know that?”

“I guess,” you said quietly, looking down at the pages of your book. You always have a hard time looking at him. He’s so…something about him feels like trouble. He makes you breathe funny, but not in a bad way. Not always. 

Tommy tilted your face up then, ran the back of his knuckle across your cheekbone. “Whatcha shy for?” 

You didn’t know what to say. Tommy knew the truth and chuckled, kissed your cheek to make you even more bashful. “S’okay f’ya got a crush,” he whispered, tracing your lips. Tommy kissed you then, just a small one. Just to hear you gasp and feel you squirm, that little moan you let slip as he stole the breath right from your lungs. 

“I’m not supposed to–”

“I know, I know. You ain’t supposed to do this, not supposed to do that. Your daddy’s got you on a tight fuckin’ leash, sweetheart,” Tommy said, caressing the side of your face. “But I ain’t gonna tell your old man nothin’. An’ you don’t need’a tell him nothin’ either, hm? Joel doesn’t need to know everything that goes on with you, honey. S’okay to keep things secret, sometimes.”

-

“I still want you eatin’ something tonight,” Joel tells you, tucking the thermometer away. “I’ll heat up some soup. Will you have a couple of bites?” 

You shake your head, pouting. “But I already said I’m not hungry.” 

“I know,” Joel replies softly. “But ya gotta eat. Please, kiddo? Bet it’ll make your throat feel better. Do it for me, pumpkin.” Joel pokes your face a little, flutters his fingers around your neck and chin, tickling you. Teasing. It makes you giggle. 

“Stop!” you laugh, pushing his hand away. “Fine. I’ll eat.” 

“Attagirl,” Joel says. 

He tells you to get changed into pajamas and downstairs, to get comfortable on the couch. Put on whatever dumb, girly movie or show you want on the TV. You follow orders, and Joel meets you downstairs with extra pillows and blankets clutched under his armpits. He makes you nice and cozy, then heads for the kitchen to clean up and prepare you that soup, which’ll be lighter on your stomach and easier on your throat. It’s just a matter of heating it up, as it’s jarred and ready to eat. Simple veggies and broth. 

Joel sits next to you on the couch and feeds you a spoonful, your favorite bowl in his hands. You love the little pattern on it, chili peppers dancing on the porcelain. You wince upon taking the first bite, “Too hot,” you complain.

“Then I’ll blow on it.” 

Joel blows on each bite of soup as he feeds you, the warm broth soothing your burning throat and clearing up your sinuses. “Thank you.”

“One more bite,” he tells you. “Last one.”

“You said that last time.” 

Joel smiles. “Think I’d remember sayin’ somethin’ like that, pumpkin. One more, now.” You finish the last bite of soup, then roll your eyes when Joel gives you a new glass of water to drink. “I know. Your old man’s the worst, ain’t he?”

“He is,” you mumble, but you take the drink anyway. Joel seems pleased, happy. He tells you that you can stay up late tonight so long as you rest tomorrow, but you don’t make it past 8:30, asleep in his lap as he strokes your hair and listens to your rhythmic breathing. 

-

more of this joel here

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