#it’s ok to be a LITTLE more assertive when it’s for their own good

[ssreeder]

I saw that other ask about Zuko ending up firelord in LIAB and I'd just like to add on to that my thoughts abt it in the original show- was it just me or did it feel really out of character for Iroh to try and push Zuko into a major leadership role at 16?? Like how did he possibly think that was a good idea, what with all the seriously heavy burdens that it would bring on to Zuko? Not to mention Zuko has had barely any chance to be a regular teenager for a second throughout the show, what with the 3 year banishment and then he's immediately pushed to be firelord.. Also the fact that firelord feels really unfitting for Zuko?? He's shown to not be a good leader. I feel like coming out of a 3 year banishment and awful childhood I don't think he'd want to be surrounded by constant reminders of his abusive father and not to mention be in the same role his *abusive father* was in... Sorry for the impromptu and slightly incomprehensible rant... this is still one of my biggest gripes in the show. Btw your writing is wonderful and im so excited for the next chapter of LIAB! Have a great day :D

Hiiii!! (here is another impromptu & very incomprehensible rant)

I think Zuko would have been a good fire lord if he was given the proper training & support. But I have to say I think it was completely in character for iroh to do that to Zuko…

I enjoy iroh but I think his character is EXTREMELY flawed & his way of helping zuko develop from a young angry hurt 13 year old boy could have been handled a lot better. Yeah yeah he isn’t zukos dad but he signed up to mentor and be there for Zuko so he could have mentored him a little more. (a lot more - I don’t think is was likely Zuko had any growth from 13-16 because he was pretty awful at season 1 and disrespected everyone including iroh and was in so much denial about his situation it was SCARY)

I could go on & on about iroh and his missed opportunities with zuko but I think irohs “Zuko will overcome and he is good inside” way of thinking is what prompted him to plop his teenage nephew on that throne even though he was like 3 days into his redemption (ok yeah it was maybe a month? Idk but not very long). The anger, sadness, self doubt, unhealthy coping mechanisms were all still there - but iroh is very…. ‘He’s got this I believe in him’

Even if it means zukos going to struggle and stumble over himself and work extra hard to try and be a good leader with (let’s face it) almost no healthy leadership experience. (5 minutes into being aangs fire bending trainer he is yelling at him. his idea of how to get aang to take training more seriously is to attack him - yeah let’s give him a fucking country! Yiiipeeeeeeee)

If iroh cared about Zuko he would hang up his tea uniform, take his RIGHTFUL place as fire lord and have Zuko become his crowned prince and start learning how to be fire lord while UNCLEEEEE took the initial burden of becoming fire lord right after the war. But nahhhh let’s invent boba or whatever he was fucking doing in BSS

*deep breath* sorry… I promise I LIKE iroh… I just….. DISAGREE with his methods.

Sorry about my rant anon haha

[st4rfckerz]

ITS THE CROSSOVER EPISODE WOOOO

mdni 18+ (threesome)

You were trapped. Stephen held you closely against his chest as you stayed entangled in his arms. You open your eyes and peer down to see the black haired boy tightly holding onto your thighs with an iron grip. Grinning eagerly, Sam pulled your legs apart further, ensuring he had full access to your most intimate parts. His tongue delved deeper into the warmth of your cunt, savoring the taste of your arousal as it leaked onto the wet muscle. Stephen's voice was like velvet as he whispered into your ear.

“You doing ok?” he asks sweetly, caressing your jaw with feather-light kisses. You couldn't help but writhe above him, feeling the warmth of his body press against the skin of your back.

You mutter a meek ‘yeah’ before turning your head and enveloping your lips with Stephen’s. Sam couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as you reached up and pressed a soft kiss to Stephen's lips. His fingers suddenly pushed inside of you as he watched, seeming a little annoyed. Caught off guard by Sam's sudden intrusion, you gasped sharply, arching your back and pressing into his skilled hand. Your body responded instantly, throbbing under his touch as Stephen continued to explore your skin with feather-light strokes.

“Don’t forget who’s really making you feel good sweetheart.” Sam states slyly. Sam's eyes locked with Stephen's, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. In defiance, Sam licked at your folds more aggressively. It was clear he was asserting dominance, challenging Stephen to keep up with his own prowess. Unfazed, Stephen merely smiled, pulling you closer and rolling your erect nipple in between his finger and thumb.

As you squirmed against Stephen, he let out a low, throaty groan. Your movements seemed to ignite something within him, pushing him closer to the edge himself. With a final gentle squeeze of your hip, he pulled back slightly, giving Sam a knowing look. Sam, sensing the change in atmosphere, redoubled his efforts, sucking harder on your clit while continuing to thrust his fingers inside you.

“Don’t stop Sam, please ‘m so close-” Your body responded, trembling under their skilled touches, and you knew it wouldn't be long now.

“You gonna cum on my face, hm?” Sam teases you, rubbing your clit with his thumb while simultaneously working his fingers inside your tight hole. You turn your head bashfully into the crook of Stephen’s neck and your lips release small, pleasing whimpers.

Sam slaps your cunt, making you yelp loudly. “Look at me while you cum, or I’ll stop.” His tone was menacing but you obeyed without hesitation. A white-hot flash of pleasure tore through you, and you cried out, your body convulsing in their grasps.

“I know Angel, I got you, it's okay.” Stephen purrs in your ear, stroking your hair sweetly as he speaks. Sam raised his head, his eyes dark and lustful as he looked upon your spent form. He reluctantly pulled away from between your thighs, a hint of reluctance in his eyes. Sam hovered above you and roughly guided your face to his own by your throat. He brings your lips crashing into his own, his tongue thrusting forcefully into your mouth. The intensity of the kiss left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. When he finally released you, he nodded towards Stephen, who eagerly took advantage of the opportunity to claim your lips as well. The contrast in their kisses was palpable: Sam's rough and dominant, while Stephen's was tender and loving.

Sam instructed you to turn around. You hesitated for a moment, but the command in his voice left no room for argument.

“Come on baby, up.” Stephen helped you adjust, his fingers lingering just a moment too long on your skin. Sam wasted no time, climbing onto the bed behind you, pulling down his boxers and positioning himself between your legs. Their gazes locked, a silent agreement passing between them; you were theirs, and they would have their way with you in any way they desired.

Your face hovered just above Stephen's bulge. Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached for the waistband of Stephen's shorts, tugging them down until his erection sprang free. The sight of him, swollen and ready, sent a new jolt of arousal coursing through you. Sam, ever the instigator, whispered in your ear, "Go on, taste him. You deserve it." With a nod, you leaned forward, gently kissing the head of Stephen's cock before taking him into your mouth, taking him in deep and savoring the salty taste. Behind you, Sam watched intently, admiring the scene unfolding before him. Finally, Sam pushed into you, filling you up completely as you fully took Stephen into your mouth.

“Oh fuck.” Stephen breathes out. His hands threaded through your hair, guiding you as you sucked him off, while Sam's thrusts grew stronger. Sam slapped your ass, hard, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. As you moaned, your throat vibrated against Stephen's length, causing him to shudder and whine above you.

“Such a dirty fuckin’ slut," Sam growled, his words sharp and biting. His thrusts growing harder and faster. You couldn't help but respond, your body arching to meet each plunge. "You love this, don't you? Being taken by both of us?" You could only nod, moaning around Stephen's cock.

"You're doing so good, so so good." Stephen whispers under his breath. He closes his eyes and lulls his head against the headboard. The contrast between Sam's harsh words and Stephen's tender affirmations was a strange mix, but God did you love it.

“Told you she would be, she’s a greedy whore isn’t that right?” Sam swats your ass again, sweat dripping from his brow. Another guttural moan rumbles in your throat when Sam’s hand makes contact with your flushed flesh. Stephen's eyes flutter open and his gaze met yours "She's taking it all so well." Stephen mumbles. He took your hand in his, his expression softening at the sight of tears streaming down your face. "You look so pretty baby.” he murmured, his thumb wiping away the tears from your cheek.

You felt the familiar coil coursing through you once again and you release a muffled moan around Stephen's cock, the intensity of your orgasm consuming you.

“There you go, sweet girl, just a little longer.” A smirk appeared on Stephen’s face, his anticipation growing with each spasm of your muscles. Sam's grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts growing more frantic as he neared his release. He pulled out of you, his shaft glistening with your wetness. Without warning, he aimed for your back, painting your skin with his cum. You could feel the heat from his seed slowly trickling down your spine.

“Fuck ‘m cumming-” Stephen's release came suddenly, his hips jerking forward as he filled your mouth.

The room was filled with heaving breaths and the air was thick and warm. As Sam went to get a towel to wipe you off, Stephen leaned in and kissed your sweat-drenched forehead. "We'll clean you up," he promised, his voice gentle. You smiled, a sense of contentment washing over you. Despite the pain and intensity of the night, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the experience.

[ellecdc]

Nsfw!

Moonwater is a bit new pairing for me and i love it too much but i always wonder how the dynamic are in the bedroom, i really dont think both men are anything other than rough.

I mean when needed the boys would be gentle but most of the time i dont think so? Remus, maybe? could be gentler but during full moon he’s an animal but regulus tho, i dont see him as the gentle type.

What do you think?

oooou ok ok I like it, I like it; let's discuss below

CW: discussing sex and dynamics, NSFW, mdni 18+

So, this first part is going to be my own personal opinion based off of who I am as a person, and my views may not be shared within the fandom. I personally struggle with super abrasive dom/sub dynamics where a male character is very overbearing, controlling, etc. THAT DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T LIKE ANY DOM/SUB DYNAMICS, just that fics where a male character is being super aggressive and demeaning and such really aren't my vibe, if that makes sense?

I personally struggle imagining our sweet, sad boy Remus as being super mean in bed? Doesn't mean I don't think he's in charge, especially in poly!scenarios because when there's that many people in bed, someone has to run the show lol, but I don't see him as super bossy and assertive.

Now, keeping in mind that this is my interpretation on a character who literally doesn't exist (which is so sad wtf), my version of 'dom!remus' looks more like a very assured, confident guy in bed; he knows what he's doing, he's good at it, and he knows how to get everyone where they're trying to go (i.e., orgasm city, obviously). He takes care of everyone in bed, and (in the case of poly!marauders or poly!wolfstar) he certainly redirects anyone's naughty (bratty) behaviour (read: sirius), but I think he'd also be super communicative and understanding that it's a dance, not a battle which adds to his assuredness and confidence in bed because people feel safe with him - they know that he knows what he's doing and can let go because they trust him with their safety and their pleasure - and he's in bed with his partner's, not his adversaries.

I've often imagined his love language (how he shows love) to be acts of service and physical touch, which I think goes hand in hand with how he is in bed; when he's in a relationship with these ships, he's making love, not just fucking

HOWEVER.....

I think you're right...some things definitely change around the full moon. I think leading up to the moon (depending on if it was a manic moon or if he was moonsick) there'd be a very noticeable change in him. For manic moons - he'd be a little more desperate, a little rougher (while still being our sweet guy as mentioned above lol), and I think there would be way more sex. He'd be insatiable and obsessed with you; "come on dovey, one more for me, yeah? you're so good, so good for me; i know you can do one more". Good luck trying to pry him from between your legs.

if he was riddled with moonsickness (immediately after every moon or leading up to a bad moon where he is sore and such), i think he might be a bit of a switch? He'd want to be held and cherished and taken care of - he'd nearly cry in awe every time you got on your knees to give him a lazy, gentle blowjob, or if you were in the mood, he'd lay back and let you ride him (he actually loved it - thought you looked beautiful up there)

Now for Regulus lolololololol

No one who grew up in the dynamics Regulus did is vanilla in bed, I'm sorry. (and I come from a place of authority in this - I relate a little too well to Sirius [though not as violent, obviously]). Honestly? I could see Regulus being mean. And not in a super demeaning way that makes you feel small or embarrassed (again, this is my preference), but he takes pleasure in surprising you by suddenly flipping you over and taking you from a different angle. By suddenly and without warning changing the rhythm of his thrusts from soft and slow to deep and punishing. He'd love marking you up - possessive af and making sure everyone and anyone knew that not only were you taken, but you were his. In the same vain, I picture him as a bit of a sadist/masochist but again, not in a super violent or demeaning way. He'd like for the fuck to be a little rough, a little hard; he loves the mixture of pleasure and pain - wants to be bit so hard he bleeds and wouldn't mind doing the same to you if you asked for it. I also think he'd be willing to try a lot of new things in bed, and some of his favourite sex is when you fuck him with a strap [if you're fem or afab].

Together?

I think Rem is still in charge - again, he's confident and assured in the bedroom and everyone trusts his authority and trusts him to keep them safe and satisfied. He would keep Reg from getting too rough or going too hard and would constantly check in to make sure you were still good with everything going on. He'd also be able to satiate any need in Reg regarding his masochistic tendencies. I believe Reg would bottom in the dynamic, but again, I think sometimes depending on the moon and how Rem is feeling mentally - he'd experiment more fluidly with Reg.

I've also mentioned before that I believe Purebloods have a breeding kink and with Remus' animalistic side due to his lycanthropy, that he would too. So I think there would be a lot of using cum as lube, taking turns filling you up with their cum, maybe some snowballing??? jesus christ I'm a sick fuck lmfao. anything to do with cum would send those boys spiralling, "no no babygirl, don't waste it" Rem would coo as he used his fingers to push cum back into your hole. or "whose do you want next, amour? Mine or Rem's?"

And I think you're right, when the time called for it, these boys would be so fucking good at making you feel nothing short of fucking worshipped. The soft, hungry gazes, the lingering and soothing touches, the praises falling from their lips as they gave you everything they got. I'd cry I think; they'd reduce me to tears for sure.

[d6volution]

IDEA FOR CAINE. so you knnow how pomni tought she was in dream? ok so what if we enter the digital circus and thnks its a dream to? where wes tart to do what ever becuase "oh its just a dream" and do it with caine to prove its not but soon later figure that you had actually fucked the ring master and now you have to live with that untill you abstarct. also, i love you...................re writing alot

thank........... you <33

hopefully this is okay! i accidentally made Caine a little mean at the end oops, poor reader.

Caine/Fem!Reader.

nsfw themes. | artwork.

minors dni.

You've been staring at the ceiling all night. Everyone was right.. you don't need to sleep. You don't even feel the urge, it was so.. strange. Unsettling.. it was making your mind feel like an endless void when you thought about it a bit too hard.

You closed your eyes and sighed before hopping out of bed and taking to the halls instead. You needed a walk, get your body moving to distract your mind just a little.

Which did little to help, in fact you were back tracking to your first theory.. surely this all had to just be a dream, you just had to figure out how to wake yourself up. yes that's it! a small sliver of hope.

"Hmm.." You pondered out loud, walking down the long corridor of rooms. Everyone else must be sleep or.. just relaxing their eyes more like. "Caine.. maybe if I.." you were muttering to yourself, walking back and fourth as if you were in some kind of trance.

Little did you know Caine was already watching, one of his eyes were tucked away in the corners of all the large open spaces , including the corridors. He was only half paying attention until you started—

"[Censor] [Censor] [CENSOR!]" Began screaming out every curse word and you would keep doing so until Caine showed up. Which, like clockwork he did.

"Now, now what's all this, y/n!? you'll wake up the others! Not to mention the potty mouth you have! Haven't we been over this already?" Caine said in a cheerful yet assertive tone, staring at you with his hands planted on his hips and waiting for your response.

But you didn't give him one , instead you reached up and gripped his suit collar and yanked him down, planting a kiss onto his jaw just to test the waters. He scrambled and pulled back, "W.. Woah now! What's gotten into your my dear!? You haven't even taken me on a first date yet!" He teased and continued to ramble about how inappropriate and unlike you that was.

Seduce the ringmaster... make him break his own rules, boom. Maybe.. the dream will backfire on itself so bad that you'll wake up?

Or maybe this entire idea was stupid and you're insane!

You shoved that little voice to the back of your head. You had to try something, the whole prospect of being trapped here in the first place was insane!

"A date..? Caine, you've been trapped here for ..well ever! ... Surely you want.. more than just a silly date!" You huffed, and tried to get closer to him but he was keeping his distance. Weary of your actions.

He tugged at his collar as if to fan himself, seemingly a bit tempted by your words, "W—Well , be that as it may, here at the digital circus we have to keep it family friendly we're to be enjoyed by all ages my dear!" He said and twirled his baton a few times within his gloved fingers.

"I know.. but, isn't there somewhere around here we can have a little.. privacy, Caine..~ Just the two of us? I promise no one else will see!"

Caine didn't say anything, he simply cleared his throat and took you by the waist and teleported you both to his quarters. It was grand and a little silly. A red and black theme that matched his outfit, and decor befitting for someone like him.

Caine sat at the edge of his bed and patted his lap.

Oh, god you were really doing this.. was it really this easy??

He tugged you onto his lap, and now you were flushed. But.. he didn't make a move to touch you at all.

"Now my precious , y/n we can start our date! We must take things slow to set a good example!" He said excitedly and flipped on the small tv in front of you both.

Oh we was serious. This.. this wouldn't do... it'd take too long.

You tuned out the television and Caine seemed to just tap his hand on your hip as he laughed at the corny jokes on the tv.

Just then a light bulb went off in your head and you shuffled a little in his lap, ass brushing and grinding against his crotch. You felt him stiffen and try to adjust a little.

"Something wrong?" You said oh so innocently.

"O-Of course not dear! I do hope you're enjoying the show! Bonding is very important for relationships!" He said , seemingly unphased but the sudden hardness poking against your ass was telling you everything you needed to know.

"I agree.. bonding is very important." You said in a low voice while squriming on his lap again, and his hand suddenly gripped your hip. Keeping you still.

"Ahem, heh, I think its best if you keep still dear! Don't want any.. accidents!"

He laughed, albeit nervously.

You took this chance and to turn around on his lap so you were facing him and shoved him onto the mattress. You were straddling him and keeping your palms flat on his chest as you grinded against his clothed erection, "That doesn't feel so family friendly in between your legs Caine.. just loosen up a little.~" You cringed hearing yourself trying to sound sexy but it seemed to be working. He was stuttering and making excuses but didn't push you away. In fact you could feel him twitching beneath you.

Fuck, you were getting more turned on that you thought you would.. when would this dream end..?

You were going to pull back, feeling as if this wasn't working but then you felt two large gloved hands on your ass tugging you back towards him.

"C.. Caine..?"

"Well, it seems I've just thought of way to keep this family friendly and satiate your.. more carnal desires dear! I didn't think you'd be so bold and I must say I'm impressed!"

"W—Well, I just.. I didn't think you'd actually—" You fumbled over your words and Caine took his chance to flip you onto your stomach, snapping his fingers and you were completely naked.

"C.. Caine!? What happened to taking it slow??" You said trying to cover yourself but he made sure you stayed on your stomach , his baton planted on your lower back with a bit of pressure.

"Ubupbup! None of that Y/N," He interrupted and tapped your inner thighs with his baton. Silently signaling you to open your legs and slowly you did, nuzzling the blankets in embarrassment.

"Tsk, tsk, just as I thought! You're making an absolute mess!" He shoke his head in disappointment. Making a spectacle out of your arousal.

"W.. What are you going to do..?" You whined and glanced back at him , his erection straining against his black pants quite clearly.

"Well, I'm going to give you a lesson in sexual education of course! Maybe then you'll believe this isn't a dream."

Your lips cracked into a unsettling smile, realizing the position you were in and.. well you were fucked, literally and figuratively now.

"Oh, don't give me that look dear, where did all that vigor go!?" A silly sound effect followed his teasing words,  "I assure you you'll feel just fine by the time I'm done with you!~ Or... you'll abstract and I'll have to throw you into the cellar with the rest of them! Either way, I have a lesson to get on with!" He said while planting himself behind you , gloved hands gripping your hips.

"Keep still, will you?"

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

THEM IN BED HC - Ajax Petropolus + Xavier Thorpe

Ajax Petropolus

I know for a fact he's not experienced, other than with his own hand.

you would definitely have to show him where the clit is.

he keeps the foreplay going for quite a bit, but not TOO long

nervous that he's hurting you at first so he asks you almost every minute

"is this ok?" - "am I going too hard?" - "am I hurting you?" - "is this good?"

his favourite position is Missionary, many people think it's overrated but he just likes looking down at you, your head thrown back on the pillows, mouth wide open as he pleasures you.

he likes you on top sometimes, it really turns him on when you assert dominance

but he also likes positions where you can't look at him like Doggy and Reverse cowgirl so he can take off his beanie and let his snakes out.

he's a boob guy, always touching and massaging your tits, that's also why he likes you on top, cause he can have both his hands on your tits and just holding them while they bounce as you jump up and down on him.

he's sensitive down there, a slight touch will get him whining.

he doesn't go too hard, but he is NOT soft on you. he's desperate for himself to have a big orgasm.

^but his top priority is definitely making sure you get there too.

I would say the curtains match the drapes but his pubes aren't snakes so.

he's very vocal, he likes expressing his pleasure.

HIGH SEX ALL THE TIME

although he's a sweetheart and shy, I have a feeling he can have a little bit of a temper, he get's stressed and just lets it build up until he's pissed. he would definitely take it out on you while he's high.

not the best kisser, but he's GOOD

^kisses you in the forehead, cheeks or lips while he pleases you

makes sure you cum before he does.

he's a sucker for blow or handjobs. and he's down for eating you out whenever, he just prefers other things that are more intimate

he is the King of aftercare.

it's always making love with him

Xavier Thorpe

he knows exactly what he's doing, for sure knows how to please you

his foreplay is either non-existent or seems like it goes on forever, he doesn't know how to stop and I don't think he wants to.

always makes sure you're ok with it before he starts.

and he always makes little curses under his breath.

his doesn't have a favourite position, he just LOVES eating you out.

he loves you on top of him. he's just grab you by the hips and place you on his dick and guide you as he thrusts up into you.

he is an ass guy, at least one hand on your ass at all times, giving it a little squeeze and sometimes a slap.

he goes pretty hard, but not enough to hurt you.

makes a point of getting you to reach an orgasm, and if you don't get it, he'll keep going until you do.

he's well groomed down there

he's not very vocal, but little grunts here and there are all you get really.

puts his anger out on you ALL THE TIME.

great kisser, always kissing you while he thrusts into you.

^he's kiss you on the neck, breasts or jaw while he pleases you

sometimes he'll just sit up on the bed and bring your mouth to his cock, he lives for blowjobs.

he usually fucks you, it's never really making love

------------------------------------------------

[yuujispinkhair]

adding to the sukuna anon, I think sukuna would definitely be the mean dad if he has a daughter who brings boys around and he just stands around menacingly and also unbolts the bedroom door whenever a boy is around!! aint no privacy in that house if he can help it gkjfhdgjkd he'd be so cute and annoying

I also love the idea of him having twin boys too!!! thats so big brained I think he'd find entertainment pitting themselves against each other in wrestling matches and claims he had nothing to do with it when one of them ends up badly hurt gjkhfd

Aahahaha please he would be so annoying 😂😂 He cannot accept the fact that his little girl is a young woman now who wants to make her own decisions and find a partner who she even might want to marry. Sukuna is outraged!!

He is such a manipulative asshole when it comes to his little princess wanting to move in with her new boyfriend. It's funny how this big, powerful man can pout and sigh while asking your daughter,

"So this is it? Your old dad isn't good enough anymore? After buying you all those Barbie houses you wanted? After paying for your tennis camps and gifting you that Porsche for your 18th birthday? After fighting your teacher so you get a good grade in Math? Do you really think this... boy... will be able to take care of you? How big is his apartment again? What is his job again? The last time I saw him, his tie wasn't knotted correctly. I don't think he is capable of being successful in life."

But nothing he says stops his princess from dating this boy and talking as if she can imagine a future with him. Sukuna is SO distraught! You have to pet his hair and hold him in your arms the whole night, whispering soothing things to him.

"You know, darling, it's normal that they grow up and want to stand on their own feet... You have to give her some space. And that young man seems really nice."

The next morning Sukuna hires someone who does a background check of his little girl's potential partner.

"I can't have some crazy guy date my sweet daughter! I have to make sure he isn't some killer or scammer!"

"Kuna...have you maybe considered that you are the one who is acting crazy right now?"

The boyfriend definitely has to have good nerves and true feelings for his girlfriend, to endure all of dad!Sukuna's shit 😂

Some time passes, and the daughter marries that guy. Sukuna, of course, pays for the wedding. He always wants the best for his princess. And after all, he wants to be able to tell everyone that his son-in-law's family didn't contribute anything, just so Sukuna looks like the only good dad!!

It doesn't end there though. Sukuna feels a bit more at ease with his son-in-law now, but that doesn't mean he will ever accept him. Now there is another problem:

Sukuna is also the type of dad who will invite his son-in-law to so-called "boys' weekends". He says it's because he likes his daughter's husband so much, and he wants to show him that Sukuna sees him like his own son. Sukuna grins happily when his princess hugs him and thanks him for being so nice now! And his sweet wife is also full of praise, kissing him and telling him how proud you are of him for finally accepting that his little girl is an adult now.

But in reality, those "boys' weekends" are like boot camps where Sukuna makes sure to show his son-in-law that Kuna will always be the more successful one, the stronger one, the smarter one etc.

When you realize what is going on, you roll your eyes and hug your husband,

"Baby, I know this is hard for you. But it's ok! Your little princess still loves you. Please just leave that poor guy alone. You don't have to assert your dominance all the time."

"Oh no, darling, you don't understand. I have to make sure he knows his place."

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 32

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Reader has to make a tough decision - stay in Paris or move to Detroit with Em.

Tags : ANGST - Comfort - Fluff

MARSHALL’S POV

After dinner with her Dad went terribly wrong, Y/N did not sleep the whole night. Marshall knew it because he couldn’t close an eye himself, being too busy trying to get her to move to Detroit with him instead of staying in France. He felt her tossing and turning in bed and even heard her crying. He tried cuddling with her but she seemed to want to be left alone. It broke his heart a little, making him feel powerless, but he gave her the space she needed. So instead, he tried to think of things he could tell her to convince her to get on the plane with him. The initial plan was for her to join him a week after he got back, but after that shitshow of a night, there was no way he was letting her move back with her asshole of a father. If the man was manipulative enough to emotionally blackmail her, who was to say he wouldn’t succeed ? Especially when Y/N was in such a vulnerable state. No offense to her, but she was already incredibly sensitive, even when everything was going well, not to mention that she wasn’t exactly the most assertive person in the world. Almost the contrary, actually. He loved her, but sometimes he worried about her people-pleasing tendency. Ever since they had met, she had been one to go with the flow, always trying to make everyone around her comfortable and happy, prioritizing everyone’s needs but her own. Her easy-going, kind and generous nature were partly why he fell for her in the first place, as she seemed to be the polar opposite to him and to a lot of women he had dated in the past, but it was only ok to an extent. It was of little consequence when it came to picking a movie to watch or what to eat for dinner, but when it was about major life decisions, it was different. 

The whole situation also prompted him to check his own feelings and emotions. If he was honest, he wasn’t completely selfless. God knew he could be the most selfish person, sometimes, especially when he was in a relationship. Obviously, he wanted her to move in with him because he knew it would make him happy. The perspective of waking up next to her in the morning, coming home to her smile after long days at the studio and being able to spend as much time with her as possible was incredibly exciting. Plus, he didn’t believe in long-distance relationships, especially for him. With his work, his schedule could get pretty hectic and they could be apart for months at a time and there was no way he could do that. Six months without her had nearly killed him. So, in more ways than one, he would benefit in convincing her to move back to Detroit. But it wasn’t only about him : it was about her. He wanted nothing but to make her happy. She had told him how depressed she’s been ever since she had moved back with her father, in Paris. He knew everything about the days she’d spent crying, not getting out of their small apartment, not seeing anyone for weeks because she had left everything and everyone she knew and loved in Michigan. She deserved so much more than this, and he wanted nothing but to give her the life she was worthy of. If she moved in with him, she would live in a nice house, be close to her best friends, and he would make sure to fill her days with bliss. Everything she would wish for, he would make sure to provide her with - he had been a disappointment to a ton of women in the past but for her, he would try to be the best version of himself because she deserved it and he didn’t want to lose her. However, he knew her well enough to know that these promises would not be sufficient. She was too scared to lose her father and didn’t actually believe that she was worthy of her boyfriend trying to give her a good life anyway… Also, there was another issue : worst comes to worst, his status as her boyfriend would come to bite him in the ass. It might seem as he was purposefully trying to estrange her from her only remaining relative. Not that he expected her to throw that in his face, but life had thrown him enough curveballs for him to prepare for the worst case scenario. Plus, the decision would make so much more sense if she came to it on her own. But then again, it was unlikely, even though the benefits were endless : closeness to her friends, better job opportunities in her field, living with the love of her life (her words, not his), not to mention being thousands of miles away from her bastard father… If only there was someone that could convince her and that had no real stake in this… That’s when it hit him : there was someone. Talia. He had always liked Jamal’s girlfriend, in spite of her (or maybe because of it). He owed her a lot : she was the one who brought Y/N into his life and she even took care of him when he was processing the breakup, force-feeding him and calling him out on his lack of self-care. And once again, she might be the one saving the day. Jamal had been right to put a ring on it : she was extraordinary (not that he would ever say that to her face, mind you, she was already insufferable as it was). He quickly sent her a text. 

To Talia : Need a favor. Can you call Y/N and check on her ? Don’t tell her I asked you. 

It was pretty late at night so he wasn’t too sure whether or not she would get the message right away, with the time difference and everything. However, a few minutes later, he felt his phone buzzing. 

From Talia : Why ? What’s up ? What did you do ? 

To Talia : Just call her in the morning.  Please. It’s REALLY important. I will owe you BIG TIME. Please. 

From Talia : Is she ok ? Aren’t you with her ? 

To Talia : Yes she’s next to me but something went wrong with her dad. 

He crossed his fingers and hoped Talia would manage to get through to Y/N. When he turned to her, her back was still turned to him but it seemed like she had fallen asleep. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder and tried to get some rest.. 

Y/N’s POV

The night after the dinner, you didn’t get much sleep. Every time you would close your eyes, you started to relive the whole scene : your Dad belittling you every chance he could get, the argument, him slapping you and Marshall punching him. What a disaster it had been. When your father had asked - no, demanded - that you introduce Marshall to him, you had been a little stressed out. You knew how hard he could be, but you had brushed it off, thinking that it couldn’t possibly be that bad. After all, when he had met Simon, things had turned out to be pretty good - not perfect, but good enough. And even though you knew he wouldn’t be overjoyed once he actually knew who Marshall was, his job, family situation and his age, you thought it would be ok. Obviously, you had been proven wrong. To be fair, it had often been like this : your father was protective of you and, even though you were an adult, every time the two of you  got together, he made you feel like a little girl and acted like he knew what was good for you and you didn’t. You tended to blame it on the fact that he had had a hard life and was really protective of you, you being his only child, a daughter and him having raised you on his own after becoming a widower when he was in his late twenties. You were a Daddy’s girl through and through : even though he could be tough, he was the most important man in your life, the one who had raised you, taught you, supported your plan of studying in America… So when he told you that if you made the decision to move back to Detroit and be with Marshall, you wouldn’t be his daughter anymore, you were crushed. He was your only family and, for years until you moved out, he was your only point of reference. How could you possibly lose him ? The thought was haunting you. You wanted to be with Marshall more than anything in the world and you had no doubt that he would make good on his promise to make you happy, but now that there was so much at stake, that you could actually lose your father, you did not feel ready to make that choice. To make matters worse, you feel a bit pressured by Marshall. You saw how freaked out he was when you told him you couldn’t move back to Detroit. It was understandable, of course, but he could be so manichaean, sometimes. You could see where he was coming from, but judging by how he put things, you should pack your things right away and move back to Detroit without looking back, without a care for what you were leaving behind, without a care for your father. Did you really want to be this kind of ungrateful child ? Wasn’t it necessary, sometimes, to make sacrifices for the ones we love ? Or, to put things more truthfully, the ones we are supposed to love ? If you were being completely honest, you weren’t too sure about your relationship with your Dad. Sure, you owed him everything and looked up to him, to an extent. You also felt for him, because you knew he’d had a really shitty life. But you’d be lying if you said the two of you were actually close and shared a bond. The people in Detroit felt more like family to you. They were the people you wanted to experience life with, but you didn’t want to cut ties with your Dad. It felt like you wanted to have your cake and eat it too. All these thoughts were going through your mind at once and you couldn’t find rest. Marshall tried to cuddle with you, and even though you thought it was sweet of him to worry, you didn’t really feel like having him all over you. You were feeling numb and lost. And exhausted by all of the emotions you’d been through. 

A few hours later, you opened your eyes and were almost startled. You absolutely did not remember falling asleep. Marshall was sitting in bed, next to you, scribbling in his notebook. When he noticed you were awake, he flashed a smile and immediately put his pen down. 

Hey beautiful, he said softly. 

Morning, you said with a small yawn. 

Did you sleep well ? He asked. 

Not really, you replied earnestly. 

He nodded sympathetically and pulled you in his arms, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. You were grumpy, sad and exhausted, but you had to admit it felt good. He had always been such a comforting presence. He was gently stroking your hair, holding you as your head was pressed against his chest. You were almost tempted to fall back asleep, his contact and heartbeat soothing you. He seemed to understand it and laid down before putting the cover on top of the two of you. 

You can sleep, my love, he whispered. 

Can I be asleep forever ? You asked sheepishly. 

Don’t say that, Y/N, he said in a sad voice. 

You shrugged and burrowed your face in his neck. He was holding you tight, one hand slipping under your top to stroke the skin on your lower back. You did the same and slipped a hand under his tee-shirt to place it on his chest. The contact made him smile. Your skin against his, nestled under the covers, you felt safe and you couldn’t help but wish that you’d never have to get out of this bed. As long as you were in the hotel room, you could ignore reality and the outside world, and maybe pretend like everything was ok. 

Marshall ? You whispered. 

Yes baby ? 

You know I love you, right ? You asked nervously. 

I know, he said. And I hope you know I love you too. I love you so much, Y/N. 

He cupped your face and traced your bottom lip with his thumb before kissing you softly. You laid there, in comfortable silence and you started to close your eyes, trying to relax and focus on the good part : you were lucky enough to have an amazing and supportive boyfriend who looked out for you and took care of you. He really was your safe place. Regardless of where you were, you felt at home when you were by his side. All you needed to feel good was him, his touch, his scent. You had never, ever been so in love with anyone and the perspective of him leaving for Michigan and you staying in Paris was breaking your heart. You dozed off in his arms for a minute before being woken up by your phone buzzing. You let out a small groan and buried your face in Marshall’s chest. 

You should answer, baby, he said softly. 

Mmmh. No, you said. No phone. Cuddles. 

Come on, it might be important, he said. You can’t spend the day wallowing. 

I don’t care, you shrugged. And I can wallow all day. And I will. 

Just pick up the phone, Y/N, he said firmly. 

You sighed and, even though you really wanted to comment on the irony, you didn’t. Usually, it was the other way around : he was the one advocating for a no phone policy whenever you were together and you usually had to force him to answer calls. If he had it his way, he wouldn’t take any calls, save for his daughters. You glanced at the phone and saw Talia’s name on the screen. Marshall kissed your forehead and left the room as you picked up. 

You had a long, much-needed conversation with your best friend. She couldn’t have called at a better time. You told her everything about what happened with your father and the dilemma you were now facing. She lent a sympathetic ear and let you vent as much as you needed to, about your Dad but also about Marshall. You were a little mad at him for reacting so violently, even though you understood where he was coming from and that he was only looking out for you - as he always was. When you asked her what she thought you should do, she seemed in agreement with Marshall, with a softer way to put things. She basically told you to prioritize your projects and your wellbeing and to believe in yourself and your decisions.  However, she also encouraged you to patch things up with your Dad and try to talk to him. After all, he was your father. After you hung up the phone, you started getting dressed. Talia had done a good job hyping you up and you knew it was a “now or never” situation : if you didn’t muster the courage now, you would probably be tempted to weasel your way out of it. Once you were ready, you joined Marshall in the living room.

I’m going to my Dad’s, you said. I need to sort things out with him. 

Are you sure ? He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. Do you want me to come with you ? 

I’d rather not, if you don’t mind, you said. I think it’ll make the talking easier if the man who punched him last night isn’t in the room… 

Right, he groaned. I’ll ask one of the security guys to escort you. 

No need, you said. I’ll go on my own and take the metro. It’s a short trip anyway. 

That wasn’t a question, he said. 

I didn’t ask either, you pointed out sternly. He is my father, and I’m dealing with him on my own terms, Marshall. 

He looked at you intently, slightly pursing his lips. His blue eyes were staring into yours and you held his gaze for a moment, intent on showing him that you were going to stand your ground. He ended up sighing, making you promise that you’d call him if anything went wrong. The whole trip to your Dad’s apartment was stressful and, the closer you got to the place, the more tempted to duck you were. It was in moments like these that you wished you could get a drink, just a small one. Courage and bravery had never really been your forte. When you got there, he was cold and distant and, as you could have expected it, he did not plan on apologizing. You told him you had decided to go through with your move to Michigan and that, even though he might not approve of Marshall, you were in love with him and positive that you would get better professional opportunities in the US. You also stated that you were sorry for the way dinner went down last night and hoped that you would be able to stay in touch. 

I warned you last night, he simply said. The minute you step on that plane, you can forget about me. 

Dad, I love you but I need to do this, you pleaded. And I need you to believe in me. As my Dad. 

You are sorely mistaken if you think I’m going to support my daughter throwing her life away, he simply said. You have to make a choice : it is either him or me, your father. 

I’m sorry, Dad, you whispered on the verge of tears. But I have to do this. 

Talia was right : you needed to stand up for yourself, no matter how hard it was. You went to your bedroom and started packing a small suitcase. You were supposed to have more time to prepare, but seeing how the situation turned out, it was clearly impossible. You took the bare minimum : the clothes that meant the most to you, your childhood plushy toy, a photo album, your computer, Marshall’s disc player and headphones. You wished you could have taken all of your books with you, or at least arranged to get them sent to you in Michigan, but it was clear that your father wasn’t going to be of any help, and you had no time, since Marshall was flying back the next night. When you were done packing, right before leaving, you tried your chance with your Dad one last time. 

I really don’t want to leave on bad terms with you, you said. 

You better hope that man provides for you, he coldly stated. Don’t think about calling me when he’s replaced you with another potiche and you need money to fly back. 

He said that without so much as looking at you. You were heartbroken, and a bit angry, too. You had always tried to make him proud and you wished he would support your decision, believe in you and root for you to be happy. You weren’t asking for his blessing regarding your relationship with Marshall, only for him to wish you well while you tried to live your own life. Granted, you didn’t know anything about raising children and, knowing Marshall’s stance, you never would, but you didn’t understand how a parent could possibly do that to their child. You mumbled “Goodbye, Dad, I love you”, but he didn’t answer so you left, leaving your key inside of the apartment. You wouldn’t need it anymore after all. When you exited the building, reality hit you : you were in the streets, with your tiny suitcase and no family anymore. It was the hardest thing you ever had to do, harder even than breaking up with Marshall in the first place. You couldn’t help but burst into tears on the sidewalk. In a fictional world, a nice old lady would have asked if you were ok, you would have cried on her shoulder and she would have fixed everything with a magic wand, revealing that she was actually your fairy godmother. But it was reality and you were in Paris : the only people who walked past you sighed and shoved you more or less accidentally, without so much as a look for you. You decided to walk back to the hotel, to clear your mind. It occurred to you that it was the last time you would call this city your home. You decided to head to your favorite café one last time, and have hot chocolate. You sat at a terrace and watched the busy streets, full of tourists and parisians. After, you took a small diversion and walked along the Seine, taking in the city for the last time. When you got back to the hotel, it was nighttime and it occurred to you that you might have been gone longer than expected. When you got back to your suite, you were greeted by an angry boyfriend. 

Do you know what time it is ?! He practically screamed at you. 

In truth, you had no idea what time it was. You were so sad that it hadn’t even occurred to you to check your phone - or your watch. It was almost as if you’d been on autopilot mode and you weren’t sure how long you had been gone for. 

Sorry, you said. I lost track of time, I guess. 

You guess ?! He yelled. You were gone for almost EIGHT FUCKING HOURS. You weren’t even picking up the phone ! 

I’m here, you said sheepishly. I’m back now. 

You took a good look at him. He had worry all over his face and his hair, however short, looked messy. He walked up to you and, as he got closer, you saw that his eyes were red, as if he had cried. 

Did you cry ? You asked. 

I… I thought you had fucking left me, he said. 

I’m here, you said softly as you took his hand. I didn’t leave. And if I had, I would have taken my suitcase with me, don’t you think ? 

Well I didn’t think that far, he sighed. It’s just…You weren’t picking up the phone, and you were gone for so long, I thought… He had convinced you or whatever. Or worse, that he had hit you. I was about to call the cops, I… 

His emotions seemed all over the place. He engulfed you in a hug and you held each other for what seemed like a long time. You took in his scent and pressed a kiss on his neck, prompting him to tighten his embrace around you. After a minute, he looked at you. 

So… Are you alright ? He finally asked. 

It’s hard, you said. But I stood up for myself. 

You did ?! He asked. Wait, does it mean that you’ll move back ? 

Yes, you said. I packed my suitcase. Is it ok if I fly with you tomorrow night ? 

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he kissed you passionately, almost making you lose your balance. His reaction brought a smile to your face for the first time in hours : he was making you feel so loved, so wanted. You could feel him smile into the kiss as he placed a strand of hair behind your shoulder. He was absolutely irresistible. 

Of course it’s ok, he whispered. I’m so proud of you, babygirl. 

Thanks, you whispered back. 

Is it all you have packed ? He asked with a raised eyebrow as he glanced at your suitcase. 

Well, yeah, you said sheepishly. I sort of grabbed what I could. So I have that suitcase and the other one I had for our holiday. That’s not much but it’ll have to do. 

Don’t worry about it, he said before kissing your forehead. Anything you need, we’ll get it, ok ? Whether it’s clothes, shoes, anything… 

I doubt you can replace my books, you shrugged. 

I’ll try my best, he said with a smile. Anything for you, my love. It’s my duty to take care and provide for you, now and I take that with the utmost seriousness. 

What are my duties, then ? You giggled. 

Why, walk in your underwear and blow me twice a day, obviously, he chuckled. 

You pretended to be miffed and started to walk away but he grabbed you and brought you closer to him. His face had gotten softer and he couldn’t refrain from smiling. Seeing how happy the news made him had you melting. When you stared into his big blue eyes and looked at his smile, the decision you had made was obvious : how could you be expected to stay away from this man ? You were still heartbroken, but when you looked at Marshall, you wanted to believe it would be worth it or at least that everything would be fine in the end. You spent the night cuddling and he wouldn’t stop telling you how great it would be to live together. The next day, you packed and finally got in the car to go to the airport. You looked through the car window and stared at the streets of Paris for what you knew would be the last time in a while : the Haussmannian architecture, the Eiffel Tower, the streets… You had only been back for six months but it was bittersweet. It was the place where you had grown up, raised by your father… But now that he wouldn’t acknowledge you anymore, it would never feel the same again. Marshall felt you tense up and gently squeezed your thigh. You were sure of your decision but feeling a bit nervous nonetheless and the feeling remained until the plane took off. You wouldn’t stop looking through the window, looking as you got higher and higher. You had been silent the whole day, keeping to yourself and Marshall was respectful of your need for space and quiet, knowing you needed to regroup. However, after a couple hours of flying, he grabbed your hand and led you to the back of the plane. 

Where are you taking me ? You asked. 

Bedroom, he said with an enigmatic smile. 

You have a bedroom on your plane ? You asked. 

First of all, not my plane, he chuckled. But yeah, I asked for one with a bedroom because we’ll be flying for a while. 

He kissed you and opened the door. It was a small but cozy bedroom with a big bed, a TV, a small desk… Everything one could ask for during a nine hour flight. You saw a bouquet of peonies on the desk, immediately making you smile. Marshall knew how much you liked these small attentions. 

Thank you, you said as you kissed him. They’re gorgeous. You didn’t have to. 

I wanted to, he said. I have something else for you. 

He made you sit on the bed and grabbed a box from the nightstand before kissing you. He gave you the red box he was holding, letting you open it and revealing a gorgeous Love bracelet from Cartier, in rose gold, assorted to the watch he had gifted you with whe you got your PhD. 

I just want you to know that I am in love with you, and I know how much you are giving up to be with me, he said. I can’t tell you it will be worth it because God knows I am not worthy of you, but I’d like for this bracelet to symbolize  the promise I want to make to you. I promise that I will care for you, cater to your needs and give you the life you deserve. I don’t want to be your boyfriend, I want to be your man, best friend and your family, too. So, Y/N, will you be my lady in a completely committed kind of way ? 

Yes, you said as you were overcome with emotion. Of course. 

He smiled and kissed you tenderly before helping you put the bracelet on, using a designated screwdriver. Not only was it a beautiful piece of jewelry, but it also really symbolized commitment, as you would literally be unable to take it off  without his help. You noticed he was wearing a ring similar to your bracelet on the middle finger of his left hand, only in yellow gold. 

You got a matching ring ?! You asked. 

I did, he said with a smile. As a reminder of my commitment to the most beautiful lady I have ever met. 

When did you get it ? How am I only seeing it now ? You didn’t even leave the hotel room while we were in Paris ! 

Don’t underestimate my ability to make things happen without going out, he chuckled. 

I love you, you said. Thank you. It’s too much but it’s amazing. 

Anything for you, princess, he said before kissing you. I take it that you like the bracelet ? 

Of course, you said. It’s beautiful. 

Doesn’t compare to you, he shrugged. 

You kissed him passionately, determined to show him how grateful you were and just how much you loved him. He kissed fervently kissed you back, cupping your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. When you broke the kiss, you took a second to admire the bracelet once again. 

I’m glad you like it, he said with a smile. 

I love it, you corrected. I thik there’s a problem, though… 

Really ? Which one ? 

It is so gorgeous I think it’s an insult to wear anything else, you said with a grin. I should probably take off my clothes… 

You know, if you take off your clothes every time I give you jewelry, you’re going to end up decked in gold, he said with a smirk. 

Oh really ? You asked playfully. Then what happens if I ask you to make me an official member of the mile high club ? 

Let’s find out, he said before kissing you bruisingly. 

Author's Note : Happy "Em is dropping an album this year" day to all of you ❤️. I hope you are all doing well and that you enjoyed this chapter ! Thank you to everyone who comments & drops in the Ask section. I don't have time to reply to all messages but I see and appreciate everyone ❤️. Also, I am definitely missing some of y'all... 👀 (🥝 and 🛐, it's been a while, I hope you're alright - you might have forgotten about me but I haven't).

Love,

Coco ❤️

[kaelyx-zac01]

Ok. Let's talk about Stede and the sex scene -- why it was a mistake but a necessary one.

First off, Stede may have addressed his guilt for leaving his family. But he hasn't addressed the internal issues that forced him to leave them in the first place. Stede wants to be happy. But, most importantly, he wants to be loved. But, he feels he won't be deserving of it if he remains as himself. Chauncey's words haunt him. His father's words haunt him. Why? Because, he believes they're right. Stede sees himself as a monster -- a plague. And yet, he remains favored, God's perfect little rich boy. Sweet Baby Bonnet, unpunished and unscathed, while the people around him die and suffer because of him.

So, to protect his crew and be deserving of the man he loves, he runs away from his old self -- leaving his wealth and gentleman persona behind. He shuts all those insecurities in. He responds to his crew's needs and neglects his own because he deserves it. He pursues this masculine pirate ideal in hopes that, one day, he'll embody the captain he believes he should be to make amends and protect others.

And, when Ned Low insults Ed, that becomes the perfect opportunity to do so. Stede does what he believes he should do to protect Ed --- he performs this masculine ideal -- as if to assert this new identity. He's not an amateur. He's not Ed's pet. He isn't "Baby Bonnet" anymore. And with the crew cheering for this masculine Stede, he sees this performance to its end and kills Ned Low.

But, this performance isn't Stede. Deep down, he's not a killer and he knows it. Killing Ned opened up that part of him that he hates and have actively pushed down. And with it came the guilt of killing a man and the loneliness of trying to be something you're not.

And then, Ed comes in, approaches him with such vulnerability that sadly, Stede couldn't allow himself yet. He was guilty. Afraid. Lonely. Desperate. And until now, he hasn't allowed Ed, or anyone else for that matter, to see that.

So, he hides behind his whims, the passion of his desires. Having sex delayed a very much needed conversation that these two should share, especially for Stede's sake. And that's what makes their first night very much a mistake.

But, what made it so good was it was a necessary one.

Having sex instead of talking about his feelings emphasized to the viewers that Stede really ISN'T WELL. And the fact that it happened ON Calypso's birthday further highlights how not okay Stede is compared to his crew. The whole party was meant to celebrate the crew's journey to healing --- how they turned poison into positivity. And while that may be generally true for Ed and the crew, it's definitely not the case for Stede. The man is NOT okay. And worse, he can't allow himself the vulnerability needed for him to heal in the first place.

Heck, even with Ed opening up this conversation, those traumas remain very much deep-seated that Stede desperately hides behind passions to keep them from coming to light. However, the following moments after their heated encounter also allows us to see how unprepared Blackbeard is to be in a relationship, especially with Stede.

More than anything, it really highlights how Ed should change so that he can love Stede the way he NEEDS to be loved.

[drpeppertummy]

ok hear me out: world's shyest skinniest boy on a date (he gets anxious meeting new people) (he eats when he's anxious) (she's secretly a feedee and is teasing him lightly) (by the end of the date he has 10 lbs of food in his belly)

USING an oc who ive never done anything with before hes a bland boring little 5'2 math teacher & hes friends with kathleen & irene & hes about to go on a motherfucker of a date. also assuming u meant 2 type feeder since that makes more sense with the context but if not Forgive Me

[stuffing, hint of tummyache]

Michael sat alone at the table, nervously waiting. His belly rumbled, and he blushed, trying to ignore it. The waitress had brought him a basket of breadsticks to nibble on while he waited, but he'd been trying to ignore those too; it seemed impolite to start before his date arrived. His belly rumbled again. Giving in to his stomach and his nerves, he took a breadstick.

Michael wasn't sure what the woman he'd met the other day had seen in him. He was small and slight, not particularly exciting to look at, and his colleagues might have described him as cold or uptight if they didn't know him well. The ones who did would likely use a gentler adjective, like "boring." When he'd stopped by the diner on his way home from work, however, the waitress had been immediately taken with him, so much so that she'd tried to bring him home that same night. He'd stumbled over his words turning her down, insisting that he had papers to grade, but he'd have been lying if he said she didn't make him feel something, and he'd let her talk him into a weekend date.

Now, he sat waiting, and he was beginning to worry. What if she didn't come? What if she did? Both outcomes seemed equally nerve-wracking, and while he didn't outwardly show it, his mind was in a whirl. Absentmindedly, he reached for another breadstick. There were none. He blinked, pulled from his panicked thoughts, and looked down at the empty basket. With his mind wandering, he'd nervously gone through the entire thing, and he suddenly felt ashamed and embarrassed on top of his anxiety. He was relieved when the waitress took the basket away; he didn't want Marianne to see.

As he sat there, a shadow fell over him, and he looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of Marianne's smiling face before being engulfed in an enormous hug. Awkwardly, he brought his hands up around her back and remained frozen until she released him.

"Sorry I'm late, cutie pie," she said, sliding into the booth across from him. "I was getting my hair ready."

"Oh, that's alright. It looks nice," said Michael. He was relieved to hear his voice come out smooth; he'd expected it to sound as shaky as he felt. Between being so shy and being so busy with work, he hadn't been on a date in some time, and he was more than a little rusty.

"Aw, thank you! And you're looking adorable yourself," she giggled, and he blushed. As they chatted and browsed the menu, the waitress brought another basket of breadsticks.

"Oh, you must be starving after I left you waiting for so long," said Marianne, plucking a breadstick from the basket and nudging the rest toward him. As a matter of fact, Michael wasn't terribly hungry at all anymore; eating an entire basket of bread on his own had filled him up nicely. Still, he wasn't sure what else to do. Hoping that eating would help him feel--or at least appear--more at ease, he took a breadstick.

When the waitress returned, Michael tried to order just a cup of soup, but Marianne gave him a worried look.

"That's not all you're getting, is it? You must be hungrier than that," she said. "Why don't you get something with it? You're such a skinny little thing, I don't think a little extra will hurt you any."

"Oh, um, alright…" Caught off guard by Marianne's assertiveness and wanting to make a good impression, Michael added fish and chips to his order, the first thing he saw when his eyes darted back to the menu. Marianne ordered a seafood pasta dish for herself, as well as an appetizer of chips and spinach artichoke dip.

It wasn't long before the waitress returned with the appetizer and the soup, and they chatted as they ate. Despite his full stomach, Michael found himself unable to leave the chips and dip alone, picking at them between spoonfuls of soup. He was feeling antsy, and his restless hands simply kept wandering back to the basket. The dip was fantastic, as was the soup, but he could feel his belly growing tighter by the minute, and at this rate, he'd barely be able to eat any of the dinner he still had ahead of him.

Michael had barely finished his soup when the waitress set down the basket of fish and chips before him, and a hot, steaming bowl of pasta before Marianne. They'd demolished the appetizer together. Marianne had let Michael polish off most of it, although he hadn't noticed that; he'd been too focused on trying to keep up with the conversation. Fortunately, she was easy to talk to, friendly and chatty and full of wild anecdotes from work, and she was talkative enough for both of them. She might have been too talkative for some people, but Michael, who was shy and soft-spoken, was more than happy to listen.

Michael looked down at his food. Had he been hungry, it would have been immensely appealing, and even now on a very, very full stomach, it still looked pretty good. Marianne gladly dug into her pasta, and, not wanting to make it awkward, Michael followed suit. His belly grumbled in protest as he ate, but he ignored it, just as he was trying to ignore how absolutely stuffed he felt. He was thankful for the cold weather; had he not been wearing a sweater, his bulging tummy might have been a lot more apparent. It was plenty apparent to him, though, and the feeling of his belt digging into it was becoming distracting.

"You look like you're strugglin', cutie pie," Marianne teased, pointing playfully at him with her fork. "You're not full already are you?"

"Hm? Oh, um, I don't know, I'm alright," he said. What a stupid response, he thought, though Marianne seemed oddly satisfied with it. Unenthusiastically, he ate another fry, and they went on eating as they chatted and chatting as they ate.

"Oh, sweetpea, you have got to try this," Marianne said, scooping up a big forkful of pasta and holding it out to him. He hesitated for a moment, then, realizing she intended for him to eat it straight from her fork, leaned in for the bite. It was, like everything else in the place, very good, though the big bite landed heavily in his overstuffed stomach, and he would've sworn he could feel his belly push out a little further. The sweater wasn't doing a great job hiding it anymore; there was a noticeable bump poking out against the soft fabric, and he couldn't suck it in. His stomach felt unbelievably tight. He wasn't sure how much more he could eat.

As they ate, Marianne periodically offered Michael more bites of pasta, which he reluctantly accepted at her insistence. He tried to offer her bites of his food in return, but, much to his dismay, she seemed uninterested. She was a slow eater, taking her time with her food, which, incidentally, left poor restless Michael with plenty of time to keep picking at his own. He decided multiple times that he was going to take the rest home, but, with Marianne taking so long with her dinner, he found himself returning to it each time. Eventually, inevitably, his basket sat empty before him, his belly stuffed drum-tight with far more food than it could handle.

"You're lookin' pretty full, honeybunch," remarked Marianne, eyeing Michael's distended tummy. He blushed and held a hand over it. He was fairly thin, and his belly was typically flat, but right now it bulged out tight and hard, pushing against his sweater and straining the waist of his pants. Full was an understatement. Right now, Michael felt like he was about to burst, and if his painfully bloated belly hadn't given it away, the discomfort on his face certainly would have. Marianne smiled fondly. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye, and for a moment Michael wondered if she was getting some sort of pleasure from his predicament.

"Oh, don't worry, sweetie pie," she assured him. "We'll get dessert to go."

[faegoddessog]

Not 'till Monday

Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, clit play, fellatio, cum swallowing, cunnilingus, snowballing (male to female), Austin taking SUCH good care of you is SO many ways.

Summary: Recovering from surgery is tough. Doing it with Austin at your side is amazing with one exception-no orgasms allowed. I mean how did the doctor expect you to NOT be turned on when Austin is caring for you? It was fine for the first bit, but as you near the end of your blackout period it gets harder and harder, especially when he's vowed to abstain as well. Monday morning could not come soon enough and that goes for the both of you.

A/N: This little one shot was inspired by a convo with @purejasmine. I basically vomited it up in 24 hours. There are wee references to my other works and yeah, I have completely self serving fantasy that he'd read my work and go... 'damn... that's hot'. LOL! Let a girl dream!!!

Enjoy! let know if you'd like to be added to my tags list!

@purejasmine @slowsweetlove @richardslady121 @austinbutlerslovers

You weren’t gonna read it, your T-besties new dirty smut,  but the line just jumped out at you and now you couldn’t stop reading and re-reading just that one line.

“Is this what you want? For me to fill you with my cock?” 

Holy. Fuck. You shouldn’t be, but you are so fucking turned on right now. The fucking buzzing and throbbing of your pussy is out of control! Fuck! It is so intense, it's no joke.  You give in and read on. When you get to the mutual orgasm part, you squirm in your seat feeling your wetness literally bubbling out. What the actual fuck!

“I can control myself” you think, literally shaking.

Your throat vibrates with a needy groan as you toss your head back. ”Stop triggering me, bro!” you assert to the ceiling. 

“Are you ok, Princess?” his concerned voice calls down the hall from your bedroom. 

“Yes, I’m fine.. Well not fine.. But I’m ok” you shake your head, sighing, texting your t-bestie to fucking stop, tongue in cheek of course. You never want her to stop. 

“What’s wrong, what’d I do Baby,” his voice is hot in your ear, just moments before his hand crosses your upper chest. 

“Nothing you did Austin, my love. She’s just at it again,” you hold up your phone to show him the latest smut. 

“Princess, you should not tempt yourself. You know the doctor said no orgasms, not until Monday. You can hold out a couple more days,” he lightly kisses your cheek and walks around to sit on the couch with you. 

“I know, I know and I’ve been really good and you’ve been amazing. But she writes you so well… plus just having you around keeps me wet all the time.” 

“MMM I know, that’s one of a long list of my favorite things about you,” he purrs at you.

Austin has been a freaking angel sent from the beyond since your surgery.  Well, longer than that. He’s cooked for you, made sure you’ve stayed on top of your pain meds, stayed up at night to hold you in his arms until you fall asleep. He’s never missed a chance to take your walks with you. Even though they’ve had to be a little slower than usual. He holds your hand and points out animals and trees and the beauty of nature. You are so in love with him, he is the best thing that ever happened in your life. He even declined a project that was supposed to be starting this month because he knew you’d need him. 

“Bah, there will be others,” he’d said when you had protested, “I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it anyway. And I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you after surgery.” 

The flip side is that everything he does just turns you on, he is like your own personal interactive pornography. You have excellent self control, something you’d had to cultivate in your previous, toxic relationship. But this was testing your limits, you were starting to have a hard time concentrating on anything.

“I love that you don’t get weirded out by reading her smut that is about you.”  You nestle into his arms.  You two frequently read her stories together, getting so turned on that you fucked like bunnies. She absolutely loved the idea that her mind fuckery got the two of you off. 

“Heck no, not when she’s given us some of the best fucking ideas… like that one about cockwarming…or the one where I dominate you and call you Pet… damn that was one hot time.” He reaches down and adjusts himself. It’s been a while for him too, he vowed no orgasms for himself in solidarity. 

“Sweetheart,” you cover his hand with your own, your pinky brushing his burgeoning bulge, “if you want to you can jerk off. You want to cum in my mouth?” You feel bad for him, and you fucking love the taste of his cum. The idea of it makes your pussy throb. 

“No, no my Princess. I made a vow and I’m sticking to it. Besides, I was once a teenaged boy, I’ve had plenty of hard-ons that I’ve not played with, and I KNOW how hot that makes you. No way.” 

 He stands up and offers both hands to help you stand up. 

“C’mon, I have a surprise for you.” 

He leads you down the hallway, through your shared bedroom and into the bathroom. The tub is filled with steaming water, the scent of lavender and chamomile drift in the air. Two glasses of sparkling water and a plate of your favorite foods sit by the side. You two bought this house in part because of the huge tub. Both of you love baths and wanted something big enough that you could share. 

Austin helps you strip naked, put your hair up, and get into the bath before stripping off his clothes. If this was supposed to help you calm down, it’s a disaster. You fucking love the sight of him. He has been working out especially hard and he is fucking ripped right now. His lats pop and the ripples of his torso are fucking gorgeous as he bends to pull his joggers off. He doesn't quite get the first leg off and hops a little, giggling. He is so adorable and sexy at the same time, quite the enigma.  

You lean forward as he slides in behind you. You feel the hardness of his cock slide down your back and nestle at the base of your spine. He wraps you in his kind, gentle, strong arms. You melt. 

“Fuck Austin, I know you meant this to help… but it’s fucking hot,” you are struggling to keep your hips still.

“You want me to run some cold water?” he says helpfully. 

You purse your lips and twist to look at him. He is smiling ear to ear, chuckling. He knows what you meant. 

“Just wait love,” he whispers in your ear, “wait and I'll give you the most mind-blowing orgasm with my mouth in a couple days.  Then I’ll cum on your tongue, but you have to promise to swallow.” As though you’d ever do anything else but swallow his seed. His cock twitches against your back, his teasing of you is turning him on too. 

“Austin, you are not actually helping.” you giggle. Giggling is the only recourse you have right now. You fucking love this teasing, love this mind fuckery. At least you know you’ll get it eventually. Get his mouth, his tongue, his fingers, his body, his cock, his cum. FUCK now YOU are not helping. 

“I’m sorry my love, here let me feed you. At least we can appease your slutty tastebuds if not your slutty pussy,” he kisses your cheek and grabs the plate. 

“My pussy isn’t slutty!” you say with mock indignation, “it’s only for you Austin. How can it be slutty?” 

“Mmm, you are right,” he reaches down to cup your pussy in his hand, but stops himself just before plunging into the water. making a fist instead 

“Your wickedly wonton pussy, then” he breathes into your ear. Dear goddess in heaven, he is not making this easy.

He proceeds to give you little tidbits of perfectly cooked bacon, rare steak with goats cheese, roasted root veggies, fruit and yogurt, perfectly ripe avacados. You suck the bits off his fingers as he feeds you. 

“My Princess needs her protein for healing,” he kept saying every time he cooked for you inthe past two weeks. He did, indeed, treat you like a princess. 

The next two days pass without incident. There are no new story updates, and Austin keeps it surprisingly G rated. Though there is an undercurrent of sexual tension throughout the house. Sunday night is like fucking Chistmas eve, the anticipation is driving you mad in the best kind of way. As you cuddle on the couch watching a film, a standard Sunday night in your joint home, his arm is draped over your shoulder. His fingers lightly stroke your collarbone. You think they are shaking slightly, as though he is a nervous teenager hoping for a gratuitous movie theater-like grope session.   Is your mind playing fuckery tricks with you? 

You hear him sigh. It’s nothing to do with the movie on the screen. You thread your fingers through his, rubbing your thumb on his palm. You can feel his eyes on you. You tilt your head up to look at his perfect face. His little dimple appears, the one that you can’t help but kiss. Now is no different. You lean up and press your lips to his. His fingers curl around yours as he deepens the kiss almost instantly. You are instantly wet, well, more so than you always are with him. Your tongues touch then caress lips. Lips are momentarily trapped by teeth, before opening to be sucked and stroked by tongues ones again. God his kisses are like fuel to your fire. Your hand drops to his chest, and you turn towards him, fully engaging in the act of kissing this perfectly amazing man. Kissing that quickly ripens into full on making out, including his hand sliding up your shirt to fondle your breasts. Movie theater grope session indeed. 

The blaze of passion that ignites in your belly is ridiculous. This is the first time you’ve really kissed like this since the surgery.  The forbidden fruit effect is full on. The fact that you can't have it, makes you want it all the more.  

‘Fuck it’, you think, your mind clouded with lust, ’what is a few less hours.’

You move to straddle him and at the same time your hand reaches to undo the button on your jeans. 

“Whoa, Princess,” his deep voice husky with desire, “not below the waist, not until tomorrow.”

“But…” your face is a mask of petulance, forehead crinkled down and lip stuck out. Your frustration is evident. 

“No, my Love, I promised I’d take care of you and that means following doctors orders. No orgasms until Monday, and four weeks still until I get to sink into your tightness,” he reaches out to pet your protruding lip with one long finger. The finger that you want rubbing your clit right now. “I’m sorry I gave in to temptation, Baby.” With both hands he tilts your head down and kisses your forehead. 

You close your eyes, breathing deep. He is right, dammit. 

Later that night, he is propped up against the headboard. You curl up in his arms, grateful for his love of a good snuggle. He opens the book he is reading out loud to you. His gorgeous baritone lulls you to sleep.

You must be in an orchard, you have to be. What else smells like vanilla and citrus? The tall grass you are walking through brushes against your naked butt. The grass reaches and gropes along your thighs, trying to get to your pussy.  It feels good, the grass caresses your ass. You realize it’s not the grass but a shining ethereal being standing next to you, hands cupping your genitals front and back. Warmth radiates from its hands and soaks into your skin. You feel an intrusion inside you, malleable and warm. A sense of peace glows in you, from the inside out and the light erupts from your sacral chakra, like water over pouring from a vase. It feels divine, like an orgasm of light. Then you feel a concentrated rubbing against your mons. You hear a moaning and realize it’s your voice. 

You come to full waking consciousness and feel Austin next to you, on his side.  The palm of his hand rubbing circles on your vulva. You realize you have been moaning and just came in your dream, or maybe here in waking life too. 

“Yeah,” you hear in your ear, “that’s it, cum for me.” You can smell the orange and vanilla on his wrist as he brushes hair away from your face.

You eyes flutter open so see Austin staring at you, biting his bottom lip, nostrils flaring. When he sees your eyes open, his mouth curves just enough to expose the dimple at the corner of his lip. That fucking dimple, it melts you. Then his mouth is on yours hard and fast, the clean taste indicating that he brushed his teeth and rinsed with mouthwash. 

His finger dips inbetween your labia, you are so fucking wet, he doens’t even need to pull wetness over your clit. It’s already bathed in your juices. You are pretty sure that you already came once, which is fantastic as you were nervous that something inside might hurt when you finally got to orgasm. 

His fingers start working their magic, circling the hood of your clit, over and over. Then switching side to side. His mouth is constantly on yours. You want to stop him and tell him you want his beautiful mouth on your pussy, but it all feels so good. Usually he would gradually get faster, but he keeps a steady pace. It’s mere minutes and your orgasm washes over you. Your body freezes,  spine jerking and your little grunts are swallowed by Ausitn’s mouth. 

“That’s my girl,” he gently pets your vulva, “How was that my love?” 

“Please, please keep going,” you pant, eyes pleading for the overstimulation that he is so freaking good at. You can’t stop your hips from pushing forward and back against his hand.

“No babe, we are gonna take it slow at first,” he smiles, eyes full of love, “don’t want anything to… burst or whatever with a crazy hard orgasm.”

“Hmmmmm” your voice whines, “can I at least have your cum, baby. I need it.”

“That I can do,” he nods imperceptibly, “C’mere sugar.”

You help him pull back the covers as you sit up,  unwrapping his gorgeously perfect naked form next to you. His cockstand is a fucking dream, thick and long lying on his chiseled stomach. Your pussy practically drips at the sight of it.  You snag the bottle of water from the bedside table and quickly drain it. 

“Get that mouth down there, I need to be wet,” his voice is grizzly with need. 

You could live off Austin’s cum. In fact you usually get it almost every day. The past two weeks have been torture, not having his milky seed in your mouth. 

Eagerly you straddle his leg, bending down. He pulls your hair, still in its sleepy bunny ears, away from your face. He fucking loves watching your mouth on him. You lick your lips, looking at his eyes as he tucks one hand behind his head for a better view.  He knows you struggle with your gag reflex and he has never asked you to go beyond your comfort zone. 

Tongue out, you lick his soft tip. He releases a shaky sigh. He has missed this too. You bring your lips together pushing saliva out between the seam with your tongue, letting it run down his cock. You push your closed mouth down, tongue flicking his tiny hole. You seal your lips over his red tip,  chasing the rivulets and sucking them back up as you pull back. You dive down again, only taking his tip. Your cheeks hollow and the sound of wet suction follows. 

“Oh my god, Princess” he breathes.

You rub your smiling lips along his tip in a figure eight, like lip balm. You love hearing his sounds of pleasure. You engulf his head again, just a little farther this time. Your tongue rubs side to side along his frenulum. You bob up and down, up and down, tongue working him, slurping on the end of his cock.  

He moans, his hand rubbing down his stomach to the inside curve of his pelvis. His thumb and forefinger catching up the root of his cock. His long middle and ring fingers falling in the crevice next to his balls. 

“Yeah, that’s it gorgeous. Get me all wet with that pretty mouth,” he croons at you. His glutes start flexing slightly,  pushing his cock up. He’s trying for all he’s worth not to fuck your mouth. 

“Princess, I gotta… I’m… I need…oh god” he moans, not able to finish any sentence. You pull back as he holds his hand out, you drip spit into his hand and he wraps that big fist around that big cock. His hips thrusting up into his hand almost violently. He is so considerate and didn't want to do that into your mouth and make you choke. Clearly the last two weeks have taken their toll on his self control. 

You love seeing him play with himself. Last summer,  you ‘caught’ him jerking off. He had thought you had left.  You’d ran back inside to get something you forgot when you heard his moan. Peeking through the door, your pussy had gotten so wet when you saw him sitting at his desk, laptop open. You had almost slipped into his office to help, but when you realized what he was watching, you were too beguiled to interrupt. It was a video you two had made. A close up of your lips around his cock, both oral and vaginal. You didn’t let him know you were there, but you watched through the sliver of the door as he stroked himself to climax. Your hand was down your pants and your finger on your wet, wet clit.  It was so fucking hot. You loved the idea of being his porn. 

Now, your pussy is again activated watching him pump himself. You realize you have lowered down to his knee and are rubbing your wet pussy on his thigh, riding him.

“Fuck, Princess. That is so hot, you are dripping down my leg,” he seethes through his clenched jaw. “GAH!” he tosses his head back, a sure sign that he is close. His hand speeds up, and stops, speeds up and stops, edging himself just a bit. His forehead is pulled down in concentration, his plush lips form a little ‘o’ as he pants.

Holy fuck, he could not be hotter in this moment. His bicep bulging,  his pecs popped, abs contracted and tight, forearm veiny with effort, thigh flexed and wet with your juices.  Your mouth is open, tongue flicking.nYour pussy lips dragging back and forth over his skin. Fuck, it feels so good. So much deprivation has made you ultra sensitive. 

“Get that greedy tongue down there, so I can cum all over it,” he puffs out. 

You tip your head down. His legs are long enough that you can still rub against him and reach his cock with your mouth. Your tongue is out ready to catch. 

“Yesssss, here it comes,” he moans. 

The warm milky cum spatters your tongue, you know how much he likes to see it hit your mouth.  He groans in appreciation. Then you are down on him, sucking lightly, not wasting a single drop. It’s so fucking hot, such an activation for you to have his cum in your mouth. You sit up and grind into his tight quads just at the insertion on the patellar tendon. It's the perfect dune of muscle to rub your clit on.  You moan around your mouthful of cum, your tongue rubbing it along the roof of your mouth. 

“That’s it Princess, get it,” his hand is still on his cock, lightly stroking himself. He is so fucking turned on with your wanton display. His other hand is on your knee, somehow wanting to help, but not wanting to interrupt your flow. 

Your pussy tightens, good lord the friction feels good. Just as you can feel yourself tipping over that brink, you let his cum slide down your throat. Your eyes roll back in your head and your pussy gushes as your hips freeze forward. Your hips and head jerk in unison, grinding your pussy down on him with each jerk. It’s nearly overstimulating… nearly. 

You fall forward onto him, ass in the air, panting, shaking. He catches you with waiting arms. 

Cradling your head on his chest. 

“You good, Princess?” there is just a touch of concern in his voice. You love how he loves you. 

You nod, slowly getting your breath under control.

“Could be better,” you look up at him with a glint in your eye. 

“Oh yeah,” he gently swipes at a creamy drop on the corner of your mouth, offering the drop to your mouth. You greedily lick it from his finger. 

“Yeah,” you say after rolling the salty tang around your mouth, “I, uh, I seem to remember a promise a certain hot fucking man made me. One of a mindblowing orgasm with his talented mouth.” You smile at him,  running a finger along  the border of his lips. Those perfect fucking lips. 

“Oh yeah, when is he getting here?” he jests, chuckling.

You purse your lips and shake your head, you love his silly goofy side.

“Austin,” you kiss his mouth then roll off him, legs wide,”get down there and make good.” 

His eyes smolder at you, he loves it when you have just a touch of command in your voice. It usually doesn't last long, as he likes being in control in the bedroom, but it turns him on nonetheless. 

“Yes Ma’am,” he nods. Catlike he flips on top of you and slides down your body. In supporting his upper body weight, his shoulders bulge and ripple. That and his ocean blue eyes never leaving yours is enough to set you off.

He wraps his arms under your upper thighs. 

He inhales the smell of you.

His eyes close and he moans in pleasure. 

His mouth opens and he drags his tongue along your lips. 

“Just nothing in, not yet” you remind him. 

The apples of his cheeks pop as he smiles up at you, “I know darling.”

His tongue rolls around under your clit, pushing between your labia. He laps your little lips into his mouth, sucking them gently. 

You moan at the sensations, god you’ve missed his mouth. 

He nestles down at the bottom of your entrance and with a flickering tongue licks your wetness up, sucking your clit lightly into his mouth at the top.

 It’s fucking amazing. 

He licks again, his bottom lip dragging after his tongue, over and over. Until he settles on top of your clit. One hand slips from your leg and you feel two fingers press, not into your vagina, but in the crevices on either side of your lips. He licks your nub with the tip of his tongue and  presses rhythmically on the legs of your clitoris from the outside, milking your pussy. It feels incredible, you had no idea that was a thing, at least not for your body. 

Your juices start to flow freely, dribbling down. He greedily licks as much of it up as he can, sucking hard on your labia. Then his mouth closes wholly over your clit and the top bits of your lips. He sucks, the tip of his tongue flickering over the hard little button. 

Oh fuck it’s good. He is good. Better than good, with his fingers working their magic. Your hands fly to his hair, fingers tangled in his unruly locks. Breath flutters out his nostrils and onto your pubis. Your hips start pumping against his pretty face. You know he loves it when you just let go and let your body react. He starts groaning, his hips mimic yours, driving against the folds of the sheets under him. The fact that he is so turned on by eating your pussy is exhilarating. The vibrations of his moans send your pussy into overdrive. All of a sudden you are there; screaming, grunting, shaking under the magnificence that is Austin’s mouth. Pleasure floods your body. You writhe.  He shifts, letting go the suction and licks long, sensuous strokes along your quivering cunt. He flicks your clit at the top each time, making you shake in aftershocks, making you drip that much more. He closes his mouth wide over your pussy, sucking hard. Then, with a closed mouth he pushes up to his knees over you. His cock is rock hard and jutting out from his lean form. He is a fucking dream. He leans his head forward and dribbles a mixture of your juices and his spit onto his cock and into his hand. 

“God I miss doing that to you,” he moans.

You are panting, watching the sex god Austin stroke himself. His hooded eyes are brimming with desire and lust. 

“Touch yourself,” he commands, “I want to watch.” 

You immediately obey, your finger rubbing back and forth on your swollen clit.

“Yes, finger that clit, Princess,” it’s taking all he has not to slide into you, but he would never endanger your health like that. 

Your finger runs in circles around your clit.

“Pull your lips apart, I want to see it all,” his tone is intense, brooking no argument. 

You spread yourself for him and continue to circle your clit. Anything for Austin. He spits into his hand again, and continues to pump fiercely on his cock.

“Pull up, I want that little hood pulled back,” he is huffing, his face contorted and serious, “I want you to feel my hot cum as it hits your naked clit.” 

Oh. My. God. He has never said that, never done that. Your finger stops rubbing and pulls back your clitoral hood. The cooler air hits your exposed clit. You moan and clench. He watches as your pussy contracts, his breath hissing between his teeth. He glides hard on his cock. 

“Keep it up, don’t touch it.” His chest  expands in a deep, deep breath. His orgasmic groan begins as a rumble in his chest and blasts out his mouth in unrequited vowel sounds. Hot semen hits your vulnerable clit, it’s like fucking lightning. Your back arches and your hips shake, your orgasm is inches away. All you have to do is rub… but he told you not to. 

Suddenly and unexpectedly,  his mouth is sucking on you and hard. His tongue rubbing in his cum, back and forth over your clit. Your climax explodes over you like fireworks. You are so fucking lit.  Your spine and hips jerk, bouncing you on the bed.   He rides you down, lapping up his cum from you. Then he is over you, kissing you deeply with a mouthful of his own, sweet cum. It’s intoxicating, mind blowing, hallucinatory and nearly makes you orgasm again. You swallow every drop, curling your tongue into his mouth, desperate to get it all into you.

He pulls away shaking, having given you the same cum a second time. Clearly he found it just as electrifying. 

“Fuck that was unbearably hot, Princess,” he pants.

Your head shakes as you nod up and down, still completely aroused. You pull his fingers between your legs. 

“Rub Austin, please,” you beg. 

Austin can’t resist it when you beg like that. 

You spend the rest of the day either in bed, in the bath or in the kitchen. Austin made you cum in all of them. Orgasm Day, you’d come to call it, your own personal annual holiday.  Now, only 4 more weeks and the medical ‘ok’ until you get to feel his thick cock stretching your tight little pussy. Until then, well it’s Austin’s cum for breakfast, Austin’s cum for dinner and Austin’s cum for a midnight snack. 

[evesaintyves]

Ok long annoying question incoming: Whenever I read your remadora stories im always interested in how you portray lupin with his relationship with sex. I always got the feel that werewolves were looked as sort of sexual predators in the wizarding world. I mean the way greyback is written was very creepy, “specializing in children”, wanting to eat hermione because of her “soft skin”, yikes.

Because of that reputation do you think lupin views himself as a sexual predator when he’s feeling just basic lust? Not even specific to tonks, like do you think he has trouble with his feelings of attraction to anyone. How do you think puberty was like for him? How does gender play into this, does he feel like he’s objectifying whatever person he’s attracted to? Would he even have sex before a relationship like tonks? Is he jealous of Sirius and James because they can be more free with their sexuality? Lol so many questions sorry

hi anon! not annoying at all, thanks for sending an ask! i'm always happy to get them, even if i'm not great about answering them in a timely manner (or at all)

tbh i'm not really a meta-writer and i don't usually fw headcanons too much outside the context of developing a story - but here are some thoughts based on the characterization choices i've made in my work. they are entirely speculative; canon has very little to say about how Remus Lupin uses his dick.

TW for sex, violence, sexual violence, wizard porn, endnotes, Moonchaser*, stuff i wrote at 4 am

so to start there are a couple of much better metas out there by other authors that you might like:

@bikelock28 has a really good meta on werewolves as sexual predators that covers this really well and explores lupin's struggle with it.

@ashesandhackles also has a great meta on the psychology of lupin's lycanthropy/marginalization called the gentleman monster

so yeah, i think you're dead on about the sexual subtext of greyback. in canon we first see people disgusted by and afraid of werewolves¹ and eventually we find out about greyback's notoriety as a child predator². Lupin obviously expresses occasional self-loathing in canon, and my take on that is that he's internalized some of the responses he gets from people aware of his status and some generally-held prejudices against werewolves—he pushes back against Harry's assertion that he's a normal person with a problem³, he refers to himself as "dangerous⁴**," he speaks of himself as having "tried to live amongst wizards⁵," which to me implies that he thinks of other wizards not as peers but as betters who tolerate him. i think his carefully neutral, people-pleasing, equivocating tendencies are his attempt to build a self around the rejection of whatever people might believe about werewolves.

do you think Lupin views himself asa predator when he's feeling basic lust?

my feeling is that, because of all these ideas he's absorbed about what werewolves are like, Lupin might pathologize and abhor some of his own thoughts & behaviors, maybe even normal/typical ones, and have a difficult relationship with urge, impulse, and desire.

How does gender play into this?

he's a boomer who hangs out with a bunch of bros, he takes a kind of patronizing attitude with Tonks in their confrontation in the hospital wing⁶, and he was written by an author who went on to make gender essentialism her whole entire deal as a person, so i feel like he's probably at least a little sexist. i think, just because it's part of the sexist background radiation we all receive, he probably understands women as vulnerable and passive-receptive in heterosexual relationships - so my thought is that he probably has extra hangups about hooking up with women. i think he'd probably have hangups about any sex where the power dynamic favored him, and there are a lot of things about penetration, exchange of fluids, etc. that seem like they might trigger any internalized ideas about himself as violent, sexually rapacious, diseased, etc.

Would he even have sex before a relationship like Tonks?

I don't particularly headcanon Lupin as lifelong-celibate before Tonks, but I get why some people do and it's fine. My personal instinct is that if he experiences sexual desire, he probably finds an outlet for it one way or another***. I think one of Lupin's specific hangups with Tonks is that she's asking for a relationship, she's asking to love him and for some kind of commitment on his part - I think he'd struggle with those more than he might struggle with casual sex. Not just because of the risks to which they'd expose Tonks; some of Lupin's behavior in canon is pretty self-serving - specifically, self-protective against conflict or rejection⁷ - and I think being in any kind of serious relationship might expose him to an uncomfortable kind of vulnerability. personally, i think that's probably a key factor in his apparent misery in the early days of his marriage and his eventual ditching of Tonks—yes, he was trying to protect her, but my suspicion is that he was trying to protect himself too: from the permanent commitments of family after a life spent moving between places and jobs and societies, from the guilt of producing a werewolf kid, and from all the risks of pain and failure that a relationship would bring.

What would puberty be like for him?

Lupin's relationship with his body seems like it must have been pretty fucked up at baseline so starting to grow face & body hair and get physically bigger (and thus harder to control during full moons at home) was probably kind of rough. early sexual feelings and the realization that sexual relationships are going to be difficult and fraught at best for him probably sucked too

Is he jealous of Sirius and James?

so there's that line in the extracanonical Lupin bio where he says of Sirius "he always got the women." i really hate the incelness of this line, but if you want to consider it canon, then sure. tbh i think most of the Pottermore stuff is kind of trash

there's no interaction i'm aware of between Lupin & Sirius in book-canon that would give me the impression that he's jealous, and Lupin always seems to warmly & fondly remember James so... i think it'd be fine if a writer wanted to try and build a case for this dynamic between Lupin and his friends, but it doesn't resonate with me specifically. honestly, I think it'd be easier to make the case that he had a little crush on James than that he was jealous.

if you've read this far, hi, and also i just wanted to mention that i have a fic coming out in July that explores some of Lupin's struggle with—and terror of—his sexuality so stay tuned if you're into that

*god i fucking hate ship names how about "Rames" "Jemus" "Pupin"

** obviously, a werewolf is dangerous at the full moon and it makes sense to be afraid of encountering one. as a reason not to be in a romantic relationship, though, it suggests to me that Lupin thinks of himself as violent/untrustworthy/impure in a general sense

*** ok new headcanon Lupin is one of those guys with an absolutely massive and meticulously-organized porn collection. i bet wizards could make a pretty dope fleshlight. like remember that care of magical creatures book that's just like a weird hairy animal mouth? okay i'll stop

¹ PoA, pp. 336-337

² HBP, pp. 334-335

³ HBP, p. 335

⁴ HBP, p. 615

⁵ HBP, p. 333

⁶ HBP, p. 615

⁷ PoA, pp. 345-346; OoTP, pp. 719, 721

[the-real-rain-world-confessions]

I would really like to see more interpretations of Moon that highlight her weakness (or perceived weakness) rather than making her an assertive girlboss who stands up for herself or is righteously angry

I understand why that sort of content is made obviously it is cathartic and comforting for many, of course

though as someone who has difficulty asserting themself, who has trouble taking up space, who is often passive, and can be too self-sacrificing it is nice to feel seen and accepted and like idk

I think it speaks to a different kind of strength to remain as kind and positive and helpful as she does, even if she is not perfect and can also be snippy or passive aggressive or irritable at points

and there are points she will refuse to speak to you, of course

no one is perfect, obviously

but she really does try her best to be kind helpful despite everything she's been through, and I think sometimes people can overlook how meaningful that is because it's easy to think "oh she's just nice" rather than "she is deliberately choosing to be kind to others in spite of her circumstances"

(which is understandable since it is quieter and more understated than something more obvious or dramatic or immediately gripping like FP's guilt and self-loathing)

idk it's just nice to know that maybe it is ok to not be a girlboss who puts people in their place

maybe it is ok to still be kind and gentle and hopeful even when you've been terribly hurt and beaten and betrayed by others

and maybe it is ok to have flaws like that and that not everyone will be good at that kinda stuff, and some people will just make the best of what they can in a terrible situation rather than always having the strength or means to solve/overcome it

again I do not wish to dismiss or invalidate or demean more assertive confident or empowering interpretations of moon of course, I understand they hold a lot of value to people for their own reasons

So please do not feel like your interpretation is "wrong" or "bad" if it does not align with my own

I just would like to see a bit more of the alternative because it brings me catharsis and comfort I guess

Which, the obvious answer is to make it myself, and, fair enough, I really should work harder on that

but I am also a fallible little human being so I will go and make long posts spilling out my feelings to random strangers in hope it might connect with someone somehow

.

[toxic-chainsaw-666]

Captain Gantu x reader

Fandom: lilo and stitch

Genre: love, romantic, nsfw

Warnings: sexual themes, swear words?? Honestly can’t remember lol

PROOF READ!!!

As you watch captain Gantu dances with the female dansers the only thing you focus on is his hips as they move side to side and the slight recoil of his behind. Suddenly he gets a call that makes him stop momentarily to check and once he realised who it was he threw the phone into your friends coconut cup. After throwing the phone he started once again dancing the night away. As you stare at him, he notice’s and stares back at you with his beautiful vibrant blue eyes of his. He gives you the most arousing smile you ever saw, you blush and start rubbing your thighs to give you even the slightest stimulation, your friend notices and smirks at you.

“You like him?” He asks in a teasing tone

“Maybe…” you respond as you look back at the large fish like man

“I mean he’s cute… with his big muscles and all…” you say whilst your head is in the clouds

“I’m guessing you wana sleep with him?” He said teasingly. When you don’t respond realising you’re staring at the very large male, your friend gets an idea.

“HEY BIG GUY ON STAGE DANCING!!!!” Your male friend, Makani, yells catching the attention of the male dancer.

“MY FRIEND HERE THINKS YOUR HOT AND WANTS TO SLEEP WITH YOU!!” He yells once again catching everyone attention. Surprised and angry you slap him slightly on the arm and blush wildly.

“Shut up!!” You whisper yell as your friend bursts out laughing. Whilst you stare at the male dancer once again as the male dancer and notice that he stopped dancing and is hiding his face with his hands as he slowly walks off stage in embarrassment. Once he’s off stage he sits on the ground not to far away form one the empty tables and uncovers his face to stare at the ground.

“Go over there and say hi!” Your female friend, Aulani, says as if to encourage you.

“ What!? No way!!” You say to her angry.

“Not after what Makani said!” You tell her whilst you started blushing even more.

“Go on please, you need a boyfriend you’re even more lonely than Makani!” Your other male friend, Akuma, asserted.

“FINE” you yell angrily as you start walking over to the large fish like male. You take a seat upon the empty bench.

“Hi” you say to break the awkward silence.

“Hello” he says silently whilst blushing. Even if he’s sat down on the ground his head is at the same height as yours.

“I’m sorry about my friend said he’s to brave for his own good” you enquire anxiously.

“Don’t worry about it” he answers dryly.

“Uh… my names [———]” you answer shyly.

“My names Gantu…captain Gantu.” He answers once again.

“Ok interesting… I like it!” You say as you smile gently at at him. He raises his head to look back at you and smile’s back.

“I think you’re really handsome… even though you look like a fish” you quip, chuckling. He slowly chuckle’s in his deep voice.

“Hey! I have an idea how about you come to mine and we can have a bit of fun” you said the most sexual way possible. Little did you know it worked, it worked so well that he was so hard it hurt.

“I like the sound of that” he said in a gut wrenching tone.

“Let’s get going then” you say to him standing up and holding your hand out for him.

“Alright then” he says standing up, letting your hand wrap around one of his fingers and dragging him to your house.

PART 2?

[littlemissbumblebee]

The Fernweh Saga by @lacunafiction

Name: Phoebe “Bee” Silver (she/her)

Personality: Snarky - Cautious - Friendly - Pessimistic - Merciful - Shy

Traits: Heart – Cooperative - Resistant - Skeptic

Past Affinity: Music: Guitar

Primary Ability: Empathetic Impressions

Job (if asked): Barista

Past Susceptibility: Forward.

Social Dynamics (as of Book 1):

Becca Warrick:

The moment Phoebe told Becca about the letter, she immediately began to organise work leave so she could accompany her to Fernweh and show support. She would make sure her closest friend was cared for, no matter what.

Phoebe hates having to be back in Fernweh, and more or less clings to Becca at every single given opportunity. She is her lifeline, her reminder that outside of this Gods forsaken town, there is a life she built herself  that she will return to, and everything will be OK.

Phoebe and Becca have been close friends since the year Phoebe was sent away from Fernweh by her grandfather. Becca found Phoebe crying alone on Father's Day, and took it upon herself to befriend her, starting up a conversation about bees – the subject of her photography at the time. In the following years, the two would joke about that meeting, and began calling one another “Bee”.

While Phoebe has dated other women in the years since they first met, Becca has always been the constant person in her life through every high and low. Through her time at Fernweh, Phoebe slowly realised why her past relationships never worked out: She was in love with Becca, constantly comparing whoever she was with with her. She always had been, she just had never realised.

Phoebe feels absolutely, horrifically wretched for Becca being trapped in Fernweh with her, and entirely responsible for it. Every morning she wakes up to see Becca’s spot at the table empty, knowing its because she’s out walking the boundary, trying to find a way out, twists the knife. She’s worried her best friend, the woman she loves, might regret her. Regret ever coming. Maybe even hate her. She wouldn’t blame her, Phoebe’s own mind echoes those sentiments.

Sofia Dorran:

Phoebe never really knew much about Sofia, save for the facts that she was lovely, her mother was really nice, she read a lot, and she was her neighbour when she was little. While Mrs Dorran always doted on the young Phoebe, her daughter tended to prefer to read quietly, and Phoebe was entirely too shy to initiate any kind of proper interaction.

Since returning to Fernweh, and spending her time living in the B&B, Phoebe and Sofia have been getting along a bit better, with Phoebe having grown to be a little more assertive, and Sofia appreciating the genuine care Phoebe shows those around her – especially her mother.

This new closeness is nice – Phoebe may be a friendly gal, but she’s not very good at actually making new friends. Sofia is a lovely person, and even respects Phoebe’s wishes when she is asked not to refer to her as Bee (its just a her and Becca thing), something that skyrocketed Phoebe’s opinion of her.

Reese Verner:

This is a... complicated one. Reese has always been particularly hard for Phoebe to read. She could never be truly sure if he was her friend, her rival, or something in between. She certainly never liked his mother. Because of this, Phoebe treats most interactions with Reese tentatively, like someone approaching a scary looking dog.

More than once, her mother had suggested that maybe the reason Reese was so competitive and vaguely annoying with her, refusing to call her by her first name, was because he had a crush on her. Phoebe hates that idea, and not just because she’s a lesbian. She can’t stand the idea of being a part of that family, or having such a frustrating partner.

That said, Phoebe is a forgiving and friendly person, and it has been a long time since she was last in Fernweh. And, even if she was never sure if he was ever truly her friend, she does have good memories of the Verner heir, and is making a (very cautious) effort to try to befriend him. It’s not gone horribly, but it definitely needs some work.

James Corvin:

If Becca is Phoebe's anchor now, James certainly was when she lived here. He was her best friend, and Phoebe used to find herself at the Corvin farm, laughing and playing pretend with him and his sister Alina more or less every afternoon. She still wears the necklace he got her when they were little – a little sword that slots in behind the matching shield James wears on his necklace.

There’s a lot of reasons for Phoebe to hate Fernweh, to want to forget it ever existed. James Corvin is not one of them. Learning he had written her letters and they had never been delivered to her had been devastating, especially because she had assumed he hated her for leaving given the supposed lack of contact. If there’s a good thing about returning to Fernweh, its being able to see the Corvins again. She loves them both like family, and has gone out of her way to properly reconnect since she returned.

The Waitress:

Mal. Oh boy. Whatever magic is in that woman’s eyes that can cause Phoebe to freeze like someone pressed pause on her should be studied and weaponised because it’s potent.

She’s stunning, of course, but that’s actually not what’s gotten Phoebe so spellbound. It’s the mystery of her, the deep darkness of her eyes, the true care she shows for almost everyone she interacts with. How does she know her favourite food? How is she showing up in her dreams? How can someone so stunning and spellbinding have never stood out before now? Why does it feel like she can look right through every wall and mask she has and see the raw vulnerability inside?

In any other circumstance, any other, she wouldn’t feel so horrid for being so spellbound and smitten by the Waitress, but now she’s realised how in love with Becca she is, Phoebe is having a bit of a crisis. Becca isn’t poly like her, at least, she doesn’t think she is, and she would rather cut off her own leg than hurt her Honey Bee. But nonetheless, whenever Mal is in the room and fixes her with that look, it’s all Phoebe can do to not melt into a tiny gay puddle.

A bit about Phoebe:

Being “kicked out” (as she thinks of it) of Fernweh and more or less thrust into the foster system almost immediately after she lost her parents in a fire when she was still basically a kid really did a number on Phoebe. She has major abandonment issues, and is very slow to trust, despite being outwardly very friendly.

To her mind, she lost her parents, and all of a sudden absolutely nobody she cared about wanted her around anymore. Her Papa (grandfather) slowly cut himself off, and she never once got a single letter from a friend, or literally anyone from Fermweh until her Papa passed away. She might be friendly and forgiving, but that’s because she wishes the world had been more friendly and forgiving to her. She truly thinks her grandfather stopped loving her, and blames herself for it. She believes nobody could truly love her just for being her - the fact that Becca has seen her at more or less her worst and still stays around is baffling to her.

Because of all this, Becca being there for her for all these years, through breakups and breakdowns, and even coming with her to Fernweh has solidified her as a core pillar in Phoebe’s life. She’s shown time and time again that she will be there no matter what, which is something Phoebe feels she has never truly had before.

This doesn’t mean she doesn’t expect the worst the moment something she’s done causes Becca pain. The separation being trapped in Fernweh has caused feels like slowly drowning, and Phoebe is beyond worried that she’s ruined the most important relationship in her life.

She’s been through some doozies as far as relationships go, often falling for people that take advantage of her abandonment issues and clingy nature. As a result of the generally crappy experience her life has been, she tends to be sarcastic and make jokes out of everything – particularly at the worst time you could possibly make a joke.

She still plays her guitar, most often selecting songs based off of people she cares about. Given how distressingly short that list of people is, a very large number of these songs are romantic, cute or indie in nature. Her first instinct when she wants to show someone what they mean to her is to sing for them, and give them a personal trinket – though she is always surprised when people give her little trinkets, or do little performances for her. She does not value herself very highly at all.

Also, fun fact, Phoebe is trans! Something she figured out about a year before the fire. Since she didn’t have very long in Fernweh after coming out, Becca has been her primary support through the process (yet another reason why Phoebe thinks the entire world of her)

Last Thoughts/Ramble:

Golly I adore Fernweh. If you haven’t read it yet, I cannot stress enough how much you should. The first book is both on the Choice of Games website, and the Hosted Games app, and it’s written by the wonderfully talented and amazing Aelsa Trevelyan (who I definitely don’t have a massive crush on). Once you’re done reading and re-reading and re-reading it and are sufficiently obsessed, do yourself a favour and join her patreon. I guarantee you will not regret it.

Now, with that little plug out of the way, I wanted to gush a bit about this beautiful world and its amazing characters. The sheer page-turning grip the Fernweh Saga has on me is palpable. I adore horror, and the eerie, subtle, almost psychological horror themes, paired with cryptids and supernatural abilities, and some truly spectacularly written romance, make this series absolutely incredible to me.

I’ve played/read a lot of interactive novels, but none of them have ever wormed their way so deeply into my mind as TFS. The town of Fernweh is so beautifully rich with lore and intrigue that I just need to know. The imagery Aelsa portrays with her words is equally wonderful.

 But where this story really shines is the characters. All of them, not just the romance options. Every single one is so vibrant and rich, you truly do feel like they’re real people. I don’t blame Phoebe for falling in love with Becca, I think I might have as well. Every interaction feels appropriately weighted and realistic.

I adore this budding series with my entire heart (which the discord channel may be sick of, given how much I post fan art and fanfic 😅). The freedom to mould your character however you like, while also having a pre written origin story is so interesting, and makes me want to know more about the character I more or less created myself.

So yeah. Do yourself a favour. Read the Fernweh Saga. You will not regret it.

[therottenkingsreckoning]

Here it is, the chapter for which the whole story was named! Really had fun writing this, I'm having fun with all of them.

Don't be surprised if future installments take the teensiest bit longer to get done- I'd had a rough draft for these four going in, but everything past it will be brand new. Will still try to get things done as soon as I can- I'm excited to share what I've made, just as you're probably excited to read it!

~Little Flame, Chapter 4~

It took several more minutes to convince Eddie that his mate really wasn't sick, and a few more days trapped in the house to convince other folks that they were. But when Julie called them up excitedly asking if Frank felt ok enough to come by for lunch, how could he resist? She was their best friend after all!

So, off they went, and soon Frank found himself at Sally's theater, happily listening to the two girlfriends chatter away.

"It must be natural lighting this time," the star declared. "Candlelight if we may. Harsher stage lamps just won't do for the mood!"

"Forgive my saying it, but I'm not sure I trust you around open flame," Frank half-joked.

At this, Sally spun around, dramatic finger in his direction before turning it on herself. "Francisco, darling, I am open flame! If my set hasn't burned down by now, then surely a few measly lights won't pose a much greater risk."

"You've let us help you light menorah candles too," Julie chimed in. "Why would that be allowed and this isn't?"

Frank rolled their eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "That's different. I'm there to watch you then, and make sure you don't hurt yourselves."

"So you can help us now!" Sally said assertively, stamping her foot down close to them. So close, in fact, that he could feel the intense heat her presence naturally gave off, and they had to admit she was right before. If her natural starborn radiance hadn't caught things on fire by now, nothing would.

"Will you help us Frank? Please?" Julie pleaded.

Frank looked from the star to the monster and back, finally letting out a groan as he flopped backwards onto the wood of the stage. "Fine!" They grumbled, far too exhausted these days to even try arguing. "I suppose I can help you."

The next hour was spent getting candles together from each of their houses and those of their neighbors, along with the various cups, jars, and vases that fit the collection. In the end, they had 34 small burning lights, set up to test their effect in the darkest back corner of Sally's backstage.

"I will say, this looks good," Frank said, bending to light the last candle. "You're right Sally, the warm tones feel...cozy."

"Of course!" the star beamed. "You should know you can always rely on my genius in matters of art!"

Julie walked up to her, giggling, and placed a small kiss on her cheek. "It's what I like about you. You're smart, funny, really pretty-"

"Alright stop!" Frank shouted playfully, "before she gets any more of a big head about it."

"You're jealous."

"Am not."

As he watched the two wandering off to make props, both were practically gleaming (one literally so.) It made Frank smile. After all they'd been through, here they were, happy lives so full of love for each other. Julie and Sally, Wally & Howdy, Barbie with her lovely boyfriend & Poppy with both of her girls.

He & Eddie, and the beautiful child they'd soon welcome home. Looking at the flickering, soft candlelight, their hand gently rested over his belly, heart full of contented joy. "I'll have my own little flame to take care of soon," he thought to themselves.

A gasp. He turned to see them both staring at him wide-eyed in shock, and Frank's blood ran cold.

He hadn't thought it. They had said it.

And now she had heard.

Moments passed in a razor-edged silence between them, mere seconds that felt like eons, and then Frank cleared his dry, raspy throat. "I-I didn't..."

Julie was the first to speak, a few gentle steps towards them & words spoken softly even though he could tell she was vibrating with contained emotion. "Frank? You're...you're pregnant?"

Their hands flew up now, one in his hair and the other making desperate attempts to wave off her comment. "D-don't be ridiculous Julie, I can't-"

"Hey," Sally spoke up now, equally awkward as she fumbled for the right words to not upset him. "I-It's alright dear, I...already knew about that. Or...I'd had my suspicions at least."

Frank stared into her eyes, anxieties scanning them for any possible sign of judgement. But there was none, only quiet and warm reassurance, solid ground on which to stand. "You didn't say anything?" To which she merely shrugged. "It's not my place to say. You'd tell us when you were ready to."

A barely compressed squeal shot out of Julie now, finally breaking the thick atmosphere. "Oh, but is it true? Is it really real that you're having a baby my guy???"

Frank could hug her right now. And they did, holding tight through the dizzying drop in his blood pressure. He was laughing, nerves and relief tangled up together in their head. "Yes, yes. It's...a few weeks along now, I think."

The rest of the afternoon was spent in excited chatter as before, his friends offering all the congratulations, questions and advice they could muster and to which Frank felt comfy responding. As they said their goodbyes, sunset bathing the trio in the same lovely glow as before, a soft rumble of laughter rang out from the door.

"Guessin' they know about it too now, huh?" Eddie asked, stepping out to embrace his partner.

"Yes," Frank replied with a chuckle of his own. "Sort of slipped out when we were testing the candlelight for Sally's play."

"Candles?" Eddie raised an eyebrow at that. "Don't know if I trust her around open flame."

[wee-snek]

Ok, but...trauma responses

(Content notice that there is discussion of trauma and reactions, non-specific mentions of sources of religious trauma. Read with care) 

We can (and have, and will continue to) draw lots of parallels and comparisons to how Crowly and Aziraphale perceive Heaven and Hell and The System. I think it’s clear that both have been very frightened of upper management at various points, and both have felt the need to hide some of themselves from even their own side. The threats are real, the danger is real. Capital “T” trauma (you know, the kind that causes PTSD) is “an experience which is life-threatening or poses a significant threat to a person’s physical or psychological wellbeing”. Can’t really argue that that doesn’t very much apply to their entire millennia-long existence, their entire relationship, every single interaction they’ve had with each other, with their own side, with the other side, with Earth and humanity.  

I’m definitely not an expert at religious trauma, but some themes there include trauma directly caused by a member of the church (someone in the church hurts you, but it’s not related to the religion), trauma being seen to compromise your spirituality (something bad happens and you feel your inclusion in the church or your relationship to your god is in danger) and gaslighting/victim blaming by the church (it’s all part of god’s plan, you must somehow deserve your punishment, etc).  

Sound familiar? 

Crowley and Aziraphale are both traumatized.  

But they are coping in different directions.  

Flight: “I don’t want to deal with this” 

Fearful, avoidant. 

Run away, deflect, withdraw, hide. 

-vs- 

Fawn: “I just want everyone to be happy” 

Co-dependent, people-pleasing, rationalizing.  

No boundaries, lack of assertiveness, can’t speak up for self, easily controlled. 

Crowley falls into the Flight pattern. He’s stuck at “the system sucks and I want to pretend it doesn’t exist to the best of my ability” and when things get tough he literally wants to run away. He’s anxious and scared and puts up masks and barriers and walls as a way to hide and to try to make that anxiety and fear go away. Deflect, withdraw. Hide. AVOID. 

Which, like, yeah, I fully get that? But avoidance without processing trauma is not actually a sustainable coping mechanism? And yelling at house plants isn’t actually therapy? Crowley is quite a bit more aware of and ready to admit that Heaven and Hell are both awful, but knowing that someone hurt you and processing what that means for you as a person and figuring out who you are and what you want because of and despite that hurt...yeah our little cinnamon roll isn’t there yet. And running away from the traumatizer, in this situation, means running away from quite a lot of other things as well. You can’t keep Earth and just avert your eyes from The System. And you can’t run away from The System without sacrificing Earth. (and by ‘earth’ I mean humanity and the universe but also one specific being that also happens to, until very recently, live on earth) 

Aziraphale, on the other hand, is coping by Fawning. Because Heaven is the side of good, yes? Sure, there might be a few bad apples, yes, ok, but Heaven? Heaven is good. And surely GOD is good? Right? Like, ok, it’s not perfect, but I’m sure it’ll all come right in the end because deep down they (the abuser) love me and want what’s best for me and I just need to try harder and be better and then they won’t hurt/threaten me anymore.  

Which, when you think about it, is pretty damn tragic. There are a lot of reasons why Aziraphale finds it harder to opt out of the system, even after Apocolypsn’t, but I feel like this is a big part of it. The traumatizer has done such a good job in framing themselves as ‘the good guys’ and Aziraphale is coping by trying to appease them, to rationalize their actions, to find the hidden nugget of ‘good’ in God’s plan even when he can’t see it, because it must be there, right? Somewhere, deep down, it all has to be ineffably good, right? Because what happens if that turns out to not be true?  

So what does all this mean for them, and for their relationship? 

Even though both of them can see that system isn’t perfect (with different degrees of acceptance of this imperfection) both of them still define themselves in relation to Heaven and/or Hell. We (the audience, the fans, Tumblr) know that they have personalities and qualities that exist separate from Heaven and Hell. But they are, both, in their own ways, still quite enmeshed with the system. Aziraphale’s identity is tied to appeasing his abuser, and Crowley’s identity is tied to opposing his abuser.  

And as long as they view themselves through the lens of their individual relationships to the system, they will continue to view their relationship to each other through that lens as well. Which, honestly, doesn’t bode well and ends up pretty much exactly where we ended up in Episode 6.  

I can’t see either of them actually going to actual therapy (no one in history has needed therapy more, but alas it does not fit the world-building or the story, and we probably won’t actually get to see Crowley on a therapist’s couch crying about sauntering vaguely downward and ‘you go to fast’) but they will need to some kind of character development in season 3 to at least start to change this dynamic. Being apart from each other might help. Aziraphale finally realizing that he’s good because of who he is, not because of his job, would be lovely to see. Crowley and Nina getting drunk together and him processing some Emotions out loud and having some Epiphanies would be great. I don’t know what it’s going to look like in-world, but I think the unsustainability of these coping patterns will need to be acknowledged and Michael and David will act their flawless little hearts out and we’ll get to see some Healing.  

I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.