#go play this game. go play this game. go play this game. now.
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luvyeni · 3 days ago
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⚔️… ( drabble ) never let you leave ! ୨୧ 一 이희승 ՞
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⸃ ⸰ ⌁ ヾ
yandere!heeseung・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・fingering , manipulation wc ・ ‎0.8k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library
request. y/n & heeseung are on a break from their relationship even though hee opposed SOOO to get her to come back he kindof stalks her & makes her feel unsafe so she asks him to come back & protect her .. . ??
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 im a little rusty with yandere i hope you like it !!!
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he was too controlling, he never let you be; always calling when you were out with friends, or out at work — or just in general he was always calling. he did this under the premise of “there are bad people out there” or “im just trying to protect you.” you could take it anymore. so you broke up with him, told him you just needed space.
he didn’t take it well at first; and you expected that. he cried, begged you to stay; he said he couldn’t live without you — that probably would’ve worked in the beginning, but you were tired. “i don’t even feel safe with you anymore heeseung, being with you scares me more than anything now.” and with that you left him.
he left you alone after that; you didn’t even see him anymore, in fact you didn’t see him for almost a month after that. his friends said all he did was stay home and play games, which made you sad, but this was for your happiness, so you couldn’t just back down. “as long as he gets the help he needs i wish him nothing but the best.”
heeseung in fact wasn’t getting the help he desperately needed. in fact he was getting worse, he was dying without you; he felt like he couldn’t breathe because he wasn’t near you — well not as close as he wanted to be.
you began to feel it a month later; you let your guard down, and that’s when you began to feel like you were being watched. you tried to ignore it, but it was hard when it was all the time, even in your apartment. you began to close the blinds. but that didn’t work, you felt like you were exposed in your own house.
“it’s heeseung isn’t it?” you friend said, you shook your head, quick to defend the boy. “no jake said he’s getting help.” what you didn’t know is that heeseung was always one step ahead of you, watching you. waiting for you. he saw your every move; even in your home with the cameras he installed.
you couldn’t take it anymore; you felt like you were going insane and nobody believed you, they thought you were just exhausted from work or something. “you just need sleep.” how could you sleep if you felt like someone was watching you!
you began to think maybe heeseung was right, maybe he was the only one that could protect you. maybe the world was too dangerous for you. which is why you found yourself knocking on his door. “poor baby.” he saw your tired state. “you look so tired.” he smiled to himself as you let yourself in. “i can’t sleep, i can’t go out alone, im scared someone will hurt me.” you rushed to say. “didn’t i tell you that?” he said. “you didn’t listen, now look.”
you wrapped your arms around him, and he wanted to hug you back; but he had to teach you a lesson — don’t ever think about leaving him again. “hee im so tired.” you looked up at him with those eyes. “yeah?” he said. “let’s get you to bed then.”
he guided you back to his room, laying you down on his bed. “please don’t go.” he smiled, laying next to you. “im not.” his hand was resting on your stomach. “i won't go anywhere.” his hands now moving. “you can just stay here with me.” you moaned softly. “heeseung.” he kissed the side of your head. “you don’t even have to go out, i’ll make all the money and spend it on you.” he said cupping your heat. “fuck you’re so wet.”
you couldn’t believe you fell for again, allowing his fingers to explore your insides like before. “you missed me?” you nodded. “use your fucking words.” he growled. “missed the the way i held and protected you.” he said. “the way i fucked you?” his fingers curled, hitting the spot that made you moan. “fuck hee please keep going , i need you.” you cried out. “need you so bad.”
he sped up, your hips following his movements. “you’re mine, everything you do is because i give you permission to.” you’d complain if he wasn’t fucking your open with his fingers. “you understand, you’re mines, your body is mine, your mind is mine?” you were desperate, ready to cum. “fuck yes hee im yours.” you screamed. “i’ll never leave again i promise.”
that was all he needed, before he whispered into your ear. “cum.” and it was like your body was finally at peace, your mind too. “hee.” your breathing was heavy from your orgasm, eyes heavy from your long exhaustion. “shh, go to sleep.” he said. “when you wake up we can handle me okay.” he held you softly in his arms. “im fine holding you just like this.” you slowly drifted off to sleep in what you thought was the safest place at the moment — but you couldn’t be far from wrong.
because you in fact were sleeping right in the arms of the reason you were feeling so unsettled and by time you woke up you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it… you gave yourself to him.
you were his now, all his and was never gonna share you again…
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©️LUVYENI
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vickymura · 2 days ago
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PAIRING ~ bf!nrk x gf!reader
SUMMARY ~ when you visit your boyfriend to spend time with him, he downright ignores you and continues gaming leading to a grumpy play fight which soon escalates into something not so playful.
GENRE ~ fluff, suggestive.
WORD COUNT ~ 1.485k
ᯓ★ i had fun writing this ngl.
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when you giddily turned the doorknob to riki's bedroom in his dorm apartment, your face rotted into one of disbelief. the room was dark, except for the large, obnoxiously bright tv screen near one wall of the room, with riki sitting across to it on a small black leather couch, a warm lamp lit on his side. he had a pair of gaming headphones snug on his head, one which had a mic to convey his less than clean exclamations of frustration at his teammates. there was a controller in his dexterous hands, his tongue darting out ever so often and teeth sunk into his plump bottom lip in focus. he didn't seem to have noticed you were even there, and to make things worse, he wore just a thin black tee and basketball shorts. it was a simple outfit, yet effective in driving you crazy in all the right ways.
you sighed and rolled your eyes. damn it. if you didn't know any better, he had probably spent all day glued to his couch, and it was probably going to remain that way unless you did something. you rid yourself of your puffer jacket, clearing your throat as you neatly folded it in an attempt to get him to at least acknowledge your arrival. but of course, your attempts were in vain. 
you knew for a fact that he wasn't utterly unaware of your entrance, given how the corner of his lips tugged up into the tiniest ghost of a smirk. he was playing a game you were familiar with. he sensed you walking closer to where the couch was, but paid it no mind, the yelling and screaming of his other online gaming teammates ringing out through the air along with his own voice. it was only once you were standing between the couch and tv, arms on your hips, that he craned his neck up to look at you, a smug expression forming on his face. you narrowed your eyes into a glare, tapping your foot on the ground, waiting for him to take his darned headphones.  he chuckled lowly, continuing to game by peaking over your shoulder for a few more seconds out of thorough enjoyment of watching you stew and grow impatient. but, he knew he should set a limit to his teasing. he took off his headphones and leaned forward to set them, along with his controller down on the coffee table in front of him. "something wrong?" he teased, his tone all too playful for your liking. “oh, don’t give me that. and quit smiling.” you almost immediately responded, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s cold as balls outside, but i still came to see you. you didn’t even look my way!” you scolded, but it came off more as whining to your boyfriend. 
he held his hands up in mock surrender, a small smirk still tugged at his lips at your pouty expression. he had to admit, you were pretty cute when you were mad. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry." he chuckled again, patting the empty space next to him on the couch. "come, sit. i'll make it up to you, yeah?"
you felt your irritation slowly but surely subside, but kept your expression indifferent. with a petulant ‘hmph!’, you looked at the spot riki patted at, and then at riki. you dodged the edge of the coffee table by the couch, deciding to climb up onto riki’s lap, straddling his thighs instead.
he could only shake his head fondly, his soft and deep laughter ringing in your ears. he was more than happy to indulge you. he leaned back against the cushions of the couch, gaze never leaving yours as one hand found a place at the small of your back.
“pay attention to me.” you whined, rather demanded, nudging your scrunched nose with riki’s. he chuckled to himself and hummed playfully, landing a gentle pinch on your hip and watching your reaction with sheer amusement. your demand earned a huff from him before he replied, "you're literally sitting in my lap right now, baby. how much more attention do you want?" “i don't know, i don’t care..”, you continued, wrapping your arms around his torso in a firm grip and burying your face into your neck. as much as you tried to act bratty and annoyed, you couldn't deny how flustered amused smirks made you feel.
he wrapped his arms around your waist in response, keeping you firmly against him, your small form pressed up against his much larger frame. your neediness was only driving his smirk to widen. "needy baby." he teased, one hand finding your hair and gently running his fingers through it. a frown of irritation formed yet again at his little tease. you further dug your face into the crook of his neck, your mind working overtime on how to reply. when you couldn’t, you decided to land a bite on his neck as ‘punishment’. he let out a slight huff in surprise at the feeling of your teeth against his skin, his grip around your waist tightening somewhat as he did. "little brat." he muttered under his breath, lightly tugging on a few strands of your hair as a 'punishment' of his own. “oww..” you pouted, dramatically massaging the spot on my scalp. you pulled your face out of the crook of his neck, announcing your irritation with a frowny face. apart from irritation, there was a certain flare of competitiveness in your eyes. oh, it was so on. the pads of your fingers and palm made contact with riki’s chest as you landed a slap on it in return.
"hey-" he cut himself off with a scoff when you slapped his chest, the expression on his face growing into a smirk once more. he knew all too well about your playful tendencies, and his competitive nature was beginning to be triggered now. without a word, he suddenly hooked one arm leg under your thighs, the other near your waist and lifted you up. with a few long strides, he carried you to his bed before you could even process what was happening, unceremoniously dropping you onto his bed. your eyes widened, and before you could even try shouting at him or wriggling out of his hold, you landed on the black duvet covering his twin bed with a bounce. dumbfounded, you exclaimed, “did you just body slam me, riki?!” he chuckled as he crawled onto the bed between your legs, hovering over you on all fours. his smirk grew as he watched you pout up at him, clearly not too happy about the way you had landed on the bed. "i guess you could say that. did you like it?" he asked in a teasing tone, one of his hands going to tease under your shirt. “i- wha-” butterflies. god, butterflies had likely colonised your stomach over his stupid smirks and how he could easily manhandle you into doing essentially anything. but, you knew better than to give him the satisfaction of seeing how flustered you were. you concealed your feelings with a grumpy pout and maybe just a little genuine embarrassment of your own lack of strength. “you can’t just do that!” he chuckled yet again, his hand still exploring your exposed skin under your shirt, slowly making its way up to your ribs, right under the lacy edge of your bra as he continued to look down at you. your bratty behavior amused him, and he was always fond of how easy it was for him to tease you. "i just did, baby. it's fucking adorable how easy it was to." he cooed, his hot breath fanning against your neck, his nose nuzzled into its subtly fragranced skin. if you were standing right now, you were certain your knees would've given out. there was something so attractive about riki's confidence, not to mention his little cuss, that it turned you on in ways almost embarrassing. you shakily exhaled and frowned in slight offense, realizing you were a gone case if you stayed there any longer. stuck under some of the weight of his larger, muscular frame, you began squirming and wriggling in hopes to coax yourself out of his grip. he simply scoffed and grinned at your efforts to escape from under him and used the hand not snuck up your shirt to pin both your wrists over your head. he now pressed his lips against the side of your neck, planting a few gentle kisses before speaking again. "stop squirming." he whispered next to your ear before nipping at the lobe. you felt your face heat up, a tingle between your legs now undeniable. you bit the insides of your cheeks and let out a silent shaky exhale. you continued squirming under him, now using a tactic of pity to get away from the situation. “let me go, you’re heavy...” he lifted his head from your neck to flash you a wolfish grin, using his knees to spread your legs apart. the next thing you knew was his very evident erection pressed right by your thigh, and his hot, deep whisper right by your lips, “nah.” (reblog and comment for part 2 ya filthy whores 😜💖)
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himbodruid · 2 days ago
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Crying Wolf
My take on the 105 affinity Secret Times audio 😏
Intended for 18+ readers ONLY. MINORS DNI
Sylus x Reader/You
Breeding kink (probably)-:- marking -:- possessive sex -:- soft sex -:- consent is hot -:- aftercare
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The soft plinking sounds of the silly game you were playing echoed in the otherwise vacant room. You’d awoken from disturbing dreams in your own bed at the base, and snuck into Sylus’s room. And now you were curled up on his bed and clutching one of his pillows to your chest. He wasn’t home yet and it was a day off for you, but you figured he wouldn’t mind you borrowing his space.
“What are you playing?”
His voice suddenly appearing right next to your ear startled you and made you jump. Your hand struck out on instinct, which he caught with a chuckle before it could connect with his face.
“Shit, Sylus, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Are you trying to scare me?” You settled back down, trying to calm your adrenaline.
“Am I trying to scare you? You’re overthinking it, love.” He chuckled again at your pout.
“Still rude to sneak up on people like that.”
“Meanwhile, Miss Hunter didn’t even notice me when I was this close.” He leaned in, sending your pulse racing again for a different reason. “Your lack of vigilance is worryin-“
With a scowl, you slapped your hand over his mouth to prevent him from finishing that sentence. He was right, but you wouldn’t willingly admit it. Could he hardly blame you for feeling safe in his space?
You felt him smile under your hand for a brief moment, before he pulled it away from his mouth and flashed you that devilish half smirk of his. “You’re that eager to shut me up? Oh, you’re gonna need more than just your hands, Kitten.”
The tension that had built in those few seconds was interrupted by the sound of your game ending. Your phone was still in your other hand, but it had been all but forgotten when you got lost in Sylus’s predatory gaze.
“Oops, guess you lost,” he rumbled without breaking eye contact with you. Amusement twinkled in his eye. “Sorry for interrupting your game.”
You cleared your throat and looked away from him. You hated how easily he could get under your skin, with just a simple look from those cat-like crimson eyes of his. You made to return to your game and start again.
“But I remember an hour ago, someone promised to go to bed early starting today.”
“Oh, so you did see my text,” you muttered under your breath. He pretended not to hear you though.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” The smile in his voice made you want to reach out and punch him. Instead, you reined in the impulse and restarted the game.
“I haven’t forgotten. This is a sleep aid game,” you said with a huff, pointedly ignoring his presence now.
“You…play a game to help you fall asleep. This is the first time I’ve heard of it.” He made a noise of suspicion and leaned in again. “Looks like someone’s trying to pull the wool over my eyes.”
You narrowed your eyes at him and scooted over on his bed. He rose from the chair he’d been occupying and sat next to you at your beckoning, and raised a brow when you handed him your phone with a freshly started game.
“Why are you giving it to me? I’m not into these little games.” He said gruffly.
“Just try it,” you say. “I’m trying to prove my innocence here.”
With a chuckle, he accepted your phone. “Alright, we can do that. Scoot over.”
You shifted over some more, placing the pillow you’d been cuddling back against the headboard. He stretched out languidly beside you, resting against the pillow you’d just placed, and held out an arm to you.
“Come here, rest your head on my arm,” he commanded softly. You smiled and laid beside him, where his arm wrapped around your shoulder, and immediately his hand began tracing soft patterns against your arm.
“Now then. Shall we get started?” You explained basic concepts of the game to him and showed him what to do, trying not to zero in your focus on his deft fingers lazily brushing your skin. After three sheep appeared on screen, Sylus paused.
“So the whole point of this game is to count sheep?”
“I mean, I tried to tell you it was a sleep aid game, but you didn’t believe me,” you laughed. He smirked back.
“Well, it is boring enough to make anyone fall asleep.”
With a playful punch to his chest, you took up your phone again and continued playing. You were trying hard not to focus on all the points where your bodies touched, trying to cool the heat that was slowly settling into you as he continued to trail his hand on you. You were trying not to lose yourself in the smoky spice scent of him. You were pretty sure he could feel your racing heartbeat, maybe even hear it, so you threw your focus into the game and tried hard to ignore how much you wanted to straddle him at that moment.
“Hmm…how many have we counted?” His voice was rough, like he was distracted. It took all of your effort not to squirm against him.
“You’d know if you’d stay focused,” you replied, thankful that your voice was steady. You were entirely too conscious of the fact that his shirt was stretched taut across his chest, and the sleep pants were slung low enough on his hips you could almost see his v-line.
“It’s not that I’m unfocused. Your hair is tickling my neck,” he rumbled. You scowled at him again.
“Seriously?” Was all you could think to say. He chuckled.
“Yes, it tickles. Only a little, though. Do you need me to help you tame this unruly hair of yours?”
Before you could give him an answer, his hand reached up and brushed strands of hair away from your face. His palm lingered on your cheek for the briefest of moments before moving down your neck. The action in no way removed your hair from his vicinity, but his focus was solely on you in that moment. Your breath hitched as his palm traveled further and then flattened against your collar bone. His eyes followed the contour of your neck before resting on the dainty necklace that rested in the hollow of your throat. You could see hunger ignite in his eyes when he saw it.
“Hmmh. Isn’t this the collarbone necklace I gave you?” He murmured while fingering the pendant. “My taste is pretty good, I guess.”
“Yes,” you say almost dumbly. “I love it.”
“It is very pretty,” he murmured, leaning over you. You couldn’t tell if he meant the necklace or your neck as he buried his face there. You thought you could feel his lips ghosting over your skin and the soft gasp that escaped you was nearly involuntary.
“S-Sylus, what are you doing?” You questioned, hating how breathless your voice was. He took a moment before replying, not bothering to pull himself away from you.
“Nothing. I just thought,” he said, punctuating with a soft kiss to your collarbone, “this spot was very enticing.”
His mouth descended onto your collarbone once more, a full open-mouth kiss that you couldn’t hold back your gasp at. Teeth scraped against your skin and then he latched onto you in such a way that you knew would leave a mark. It hurt at first, the aggressive pull of his mouth, but then there was a zing of rapture that flowed through you when he released you. His breath tickled across your now-damp skin and you shivered.
“It tastes just as I imagined it to be,” he murmured. “I wonder what this will taste like.”
Sylus moved to the opposite side of your collarbone now, his hand cradling your head while he gave the same treatment to that side. You tried your hardest to calm your thundering heart, to quell the heat that raced through you, to soothe the blush that spread mercilessly from your face to your now nearly exposed chest. You felt embarrassed at how quickly and easily he was able to turn you on. The sounds of the game came back to you and you desperately tried to return your attention to it. This didn’t escape Sylus’s notice.
“What? How many sheep are there now?” He nuzzled into your neck. “You’re still concerned about them? Looks like I haven’t gotten your undivided attention yet.”
“S-Sy,” you started, unable to find words when your breath came short.
“I don’t like you being so far away from me,” he growled before rolling his bulk atop you. You dropped your phone onto the mattress, the game forgotten now. “Come closer, let’s cuddle.”
You knew your face was aflame as he leaned down to nuzzle and kiss your neck. In a desperate bid to escape embarrassment, you mutter the lamest excuse you could. “B-but Sylus, it’s too warm.”
“To be honest,” a kiss on your neck, full of tongue, interrupted his thought, “it…can get even warmer. Than. This.”
His mouth found yours then, and he coaxed you open to him so that his tongue could plunge in and tangle with yours. You inhaled sharply, unable to keep your hands from him any longer. You kissed him back in equal fervor, not entirely ignorant to the hard length of him resting against your belly. Your hands combed through his silk-soft hair, all but holding him to you.
A sudden plink from your discarded phone brought you back to your senses. You were kissing Sylus. The two of you had been intimate in other ways, but nothing nearly as far as this yet. Holding hands, quick pecks on the cheek, chaste kisses here and there. But nothing so all-consuming, so passionate.
“Hmm? Oh. We lost,” rumbled Sylus against your lips. You turned your head and looked at your phone.
“Hmm. Looks like a wolf snuck in because you weren’t focused on our sheep,” you admonished lightly.
“Yeah. All of them were eaten,” Sylus replied with a smug smirk. He returned to burying his face against your neck. “How do you think those sheep were eaten? Like…this?”
He raked his teeth against the slope of your neck. You didn’t even have the mind to feel embarrassed about the moan that slipped from you.
“Or…like this?” His lips moved to the other side. A heavy, charged sigh escaped from him as he all but worshipped your neck. Kisses, bites, even rolling his tongue against your pulse. You were unravelling beneath him, and then his hand had the audacity to add to the sensations by running down the length of you. Your breaths came in short gasps and you longed to completely wrap yourself around him.
“I take back what I said about the game. It does have some redeeming qualities.”
The comment was so sudden, you couldn’t muster a response. All you could do was watch him with eyes half-lidded by desire while he elaborated.
“For instance, it is very realistic.” He gave another one of those heated sighs, followed by a soft growl while his hand continued to roam your body. You were fully aware now of his cock resting heavy against you, still held by the prison of his sleep pants. Somewhere he had wedged a knee between your own and was slowly sliding his way fully between your thighs. You could feel the heat blazing in your face and looked away from his assessing and possessive gaze.
It just happened that your attention fell back to your phone.
“Where are your eyes going? Honestly, I don’t think you need to get your phone back.”
You looked back to him, and he hiked your leg up to hook around his hip. The length of him was now pressed against your core, hot and hard.
“If you need a sleep aid, then I can fulfill that role.”
You felt like your brain was going to short circuit. Out of a desperate attempt to hide your madly blushing face, you covered it with the comforter.
“A sheep can’t escape if it’s trapped under the covers,” he said, tugging them away. “So, is this little lamb prepared?”
Another moan escaped you unbidden as he pressed his hips into yours.
“A wolf is coming,” he growled into your ear.
Fuck, I sure hope he will, you thought.
His mouth found yours again, and his roaming hand slipped underneath the cotton tank top you were wearing. Like electricity on your skin, his touch sent shivers through you. His thumb found your breast first, and then the rest of his hand engulfed the mound of flesh. You couldn’t help but arch into his touch, releasing pleased gasps into his fierce kiss.
Next thing you knew, your shirt was pushed up above your breasts and his hot mouth moved to teasing them. His tongue swirled around the nipple of one, while his hand continued kneading the other.
“S-Sylus,” you moaned with a shuddering breath. His teeth scraped against the underside and your hands dug into his scalp at the sensation. Your back bowed, arching firmly into his touch until his mouth moved further down. A blazing trail of kisses and bites all the way down your torso until he came to the hem of your shorts. All the while he kept his crimson gaze locked on your face, thoroughly enjoying the reactions he elicited from you.
He tugged at the hem, offering a silent question to you and going no further until you nodded your consent and lifted your hips for him. He stripped shorts and underwear away in one swift motion, and suddenly you were bared so intimately, so lewdly for him. You tried to pin your knees together, but he was already there, mouth at your hip and drawing out a mark to match the ones on your collarbone.
“I think,” he said, detaching from your skin, “I might enjoy seeing my marks on you a little too much.”
Your gaze landed on the bruise-like mark he left on your hip and you had to agree with him. Something about seeing his smirking mouth hovering there and a hickey darkening was just absurdly hot.
You let your head fall back into the pillow, covering your face with an arm. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Sylus.”
“Is that so?” He chuckled. “If you permit me, I can easily give you a little death, as a treat.”
Somehow your face flamed hotter at his innuendo. You didn’t have time to dwell on it, as you felt his thumb brushing through the soft fringe at your core.
“Mmh,” he growled. “So wet for me already, Kitten.”
And then his tongue followed the touch, and you were lost. A moan escaped from you, your hands flying to tangle once again in his hair. If he hated that you were messing up said hair, he didn’t say a word. In fact, the action seemed to provoke him further and he soon added fingers curling into your cunt. He worked you hard until you spilled over the edge with his name falling from your lips like a chant.
He crawled back up your body, planting a soft kiss before pulling away. He caressed your cheek while he gave you the tenderest of looks. It appeared he wanted to say something, but held himself back. Instead, he opted to lean forward and kiss your forehead.
And then the infuriating man tugged the comforter over you and made to leave.
“Wait, what?” You panicked and grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving.
“It’s late, Kitten, and you need to sleep.”
“No! I-“ your words were cut off by his chuckle.
“As much as I want to, Kitten, I hadn’t really prepared for sex. I don’t have any protection.”
You eased your shoulders, secretly relieved that he wasn’t rejecting you per se.
“That’s simple, though,” you say, swinging your arm wide and showing him the tiniest of protrusions on the inner side of your arm. “The Association pays for all of us to get temporarily sterilized. Those of us that want it, anyway. It lasts for five years, and I got it put in a few months ago because-“
You cut your words off, completely aware that you were rambling and embarrassing yourself further. You looked away, hating how desperate you sounded. But it was true, after being with Sylus and getting to know him, you wanted to prepare for a ‘just in case’ kinda situation just like this one. When he didn’t move or respond, you began shuffling yourself back under the duvet in awkward self-consciousness.
His hand shot out to stop you, though. “I truly don’t deserve you.”
With that, you were stripped bare before him once again. The duvet was discarded, and his crimson gaze followed every curve and edge of your body. It was like he was trying to memorize the picture of you naked in his bed.
“So damn beautiful,” he growled before falling upon you once again. His kisses were needy and hungry, working to quickly reignite your every sense. Your hands worked to slide his own shirt from his body, discarding it alongside your own clothing. The valleys of his abs called to you and you were unable to resist touching. Your fingers traveled the dips and rise of his torso, earning you panting groans from him. Testing, you allowed one hand to go even further downward. When he didn’t stop you at the hem of his pants, boldness overtook you and you grasped at the prominent bulge over the fabric.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his hips jerking forward of their own volition. He let his head fall against your chest with rough kisses while you pressed and kneaded the length of him in wonder. He was very clearly a large man as he all but dwarfed your petite frame underneath him, but down there he was also exceptionally large.
“How in the world is this supposed to fit,” you wondered aloud while still stroking him. He chuckled darkly in your ear, rolling his hips into your touch.
“Why don’t we find out, Kitten.”
His mouth engulfed yours again while he worked to strip the pants from his body. His tongue swept into your mouth, undulating in a way that suggested he was about to do that to you with his cock. Finally his hips nestled between your thighs, and you could feel how big he was resting against your body. You opened as wide as you could for him while his hips continued rolling forward and back. While not penetrating, his cock still dragged deliciously against your folds, urging your heart to pick up pace in anticipation.
And then, gods, the moment he pierced you, you wanted to cum. His movement was infuriatingly slow as he allowed you time to become accustomed to his girth first, and then his length last. You let your head fall back into his pillows, his name tumbling from you as you clung to him desperately.
And then he stilled, though you could tell by his shaking that it took all of his effort to hold back.
“Fuck, you feel so good on me, Kitten,” he whined. You wrapped your legs firmly around his waist, ensuring that he couldn’t suddenly change his mind and pull away from you in that moment.
A slight tilt of your hips and a clenching of your walls, and he nearly collapsed atop you at the forceful pleasure that rocketed up his spine. His moan was deep, guttural, and damn near feral. It only goaded you into shifting your hips again to rattle him further. His hips jerked forward involuntarily, and fuck the feel of him slamming so impossibly deep into you was almost enough to throw you over the edge.
“Sylus, please,” you whimpered to him. His gaze found yours and locked on as he so slowly pulled himself out, right to the tip. And then his hips rocketed forward and the force of him slamming into you all but ripped his name from you as a scream.
From there, the frenzied coupling reached a crescendo so quickly that neither of you were prepared for the full force of pleasure that toppled you over the edge. His cock was buried in you and responded in kind when your walls fluttered and milked him. You took every last bit he had to offer, and still he wasn’t done with you.
He shifted your legs so that the backs of your knees rested in his elbows, and he all but folded you in half while he pistoned into you. All you could do was cling to him, crying out in the pleasure he ripped so vehemently from you. The new position let him fuck into you even deeper somehow, and gods the way his cock dragged against your inner walls.
And the sounds he made only added fuel to the fire. Grunting moans, harsh whispers of praise, guttural growls. All of them possessed you, making you respond to him in kind between other cries of pleasure. His name became like a prayer with the frequency it tumbled from your lips, and gods when he growled out your name you were gone.
Climax swept through both of you again swiftly, more hot ropes of cum flooding you only to be used as lubricant while he continued to pound into you.
Three times he brought you over the edge and he jumped alongside you. Three times before he finally released your cramping legs and let them rest back around his hips. More marks dotted your body, and you added your own collection to his neck and chest.
Three times your body milked his, and yet he was still so impossibly hard inside you. You would be surprised if you weren’t leaking his cum for days after this.
“Fuck, Kitten, you feel so damn good. I don’t know if I will ever be able to stop fucking you,” he growled.
The pace of his thrusts slowed in reverent worship of your body. You could feel him more fully than the rapid driving of the last three rounds. You could feel how the scooped edge of the head caught and dragged along your walls, tugging and pushing electric shocks of pleasure that coursed through you. And gods the hard push of his hips when he buried fully to the hilt, the feel of his sac compressing against the slick of your combined cum. The sticky feel of it all when he pulls away with the obscene sounds echoing in the room with your twinned heavy breathing. The slow ascent of your pleasure was near infuriating, but you knew that the fall would be much sweeter, more intense.
“This is how I originally wanted to take you,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed the two marks on opposite ends of your collarbone. “But you feel too damn good, I couldn’t control myself.”
You could only respond with a moan as his cock continued to brush against that sweet spot inside you. Your legs slid up his body to bracket his torso, the slight shift just enough to give him even further access.
“Sylus, you feel so fucking good,” you whimpered to him, your nails digging into his back.
“Fuck, I’m close,” he said, nuzzling his face into your neck. He was doing that a lot, almost as if he was trying to absorb the scent of you.
“Yes,” you hissed. “Take me.”
“Come with me, Kitten.”
At his words and a final hard thrust of his hips, you shattered beneath him. Your body arched off the bed, limbs jerking with your head thrown back into the pillows. His name echoed into the room from your pleasured screams. This climax was the most intense one you’ve ever had, threatening your consciousness with black spots dancing at the edge of your vision. It was like Sylus had lit your entire body on fire with electricity. It crackled through you, your body’s convulsing no longer yours to control as you just tried to continue to cling to him.
You could feel his own orgasm steamroll through him as well. His hips jerked erratically as his cock twitched and pulsed inside you. His moans in your ear were punctuated by panting breaths and guttural growls. His sac grew taut and then he was spilling into you once more. He experienced full body trembling, quivering, spasming, and his desperate moans filled the room with yours.
His cock finally seemed to be through and he slipped from you. He left the bed without a word, coming back seconds later from the bathroom with a warm rag to help clean you up and a cool glass of water that you chugged. You were embarrassed but grateful at his care- though it was almost for naught as the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other in the shower. It seemed like there would be a never ending stream of cum flowing from your cunt with how many times he couldn’t resist burying himself in you.
After several more rounds in various positions, you were finally tucked against him and nodding off to the sleep you should have had at least six hours ago.
__
When you finally did wake, Sylus had stepped out with instructions to the twins to bring you breakfast and whatever else you wanted. Unfortunately for you, Sylus didn’t think about any kind of implications when he directed them to his room instead of your own. To make matters worse, you were bundled in his blankets, looking like you were still exhausted from a night of little to no sleep due to Sylus’s bullshit stamina.
The twins, though, were so obnoxiously delighted by the news that you “finally slept with the boss” that they kept trying to high five you whilst you were trying to fight them away out of embarrassment.
You got no peace that night or day, but it didn’t stop the contented grin that planted itself on your face.
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rafecameronssl4t · 2 days ago
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For me? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: Glass onion inspired when Whisky goes to Miles because her boyfriend Duke asks her to but they already have something going on between them.
Warnings: r uses her body to get Topper what he wants, infidelity, suggestive content
Word count: 1,936
A/n: glass onion is definitely in my top 5 movies I love 😭
MASTERLIST
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Your fingers curl around Rafe’s wrist, tugging him toward the house, your movements quick and purposeful. The murmur of voices in the background fades as you enter, but one presence in particular stands out—Topper, leaning casually against the entryway, his expression hard, his eyes following you with a calculating intensity.
His words from earlier echo in your mind, their weight hanging heavy between you two. “You know what I’m asking. Just... talk to him again. Do what you have to do.” You’d replayed Topper’s plea in your head countless times, the way he’d lowered his voice, almost pleading, as he suggested you get closer to Rafe—his boss—convincing him to finally give Topper the promotion he’s been after for months.
It was a bitter pill to swallow, the thought of using your body to manipulate Rafe for Topper’s benefit, but you were already caught in the web, and here you were, carrying out the plan. Topper says nothing as you pass, but the look in his eyes—a mixture of calculation and expectation—burns into your back. You offer him a curt nod, more out of habit than a willingness to comply, before redirecting your focus to Rafe, who’s watching you with an almost predatory interest, his smirk tugging at his lips.
Rafe follows you, his presence closing in behind you like a shadow, and his eyes flicker with amusement as you guide him into the room. His voice is thick with arrogance as he speaks, the challenge clear in his tone. “Right now? You sure?” He steps closer, his hands finding your hips with a teasing pressure. His eyes move unapologetically up and down your body, pausing at the curves of your waist before he lets out a low chuckle.
“What’s the rush? Your little boyfriend’s still out there, isn’t he?” You roll your eyes, playing the part as you’ve done before. This wasn’t the first time Topper had asked you to sleep with Rafe, after all. It was a game you were tired of playing, but the rewards were clear. Rafe never failed to satisfy, and Topper always got what he wanted in the end. “Uh-huh, right now,” you reply, your tone sharp but confident, cutting through his mockery.
Rafe’s smirk deepens, eyes gleaming with a knowing glint. He wasn’t stupid—he’d caught on quickly. The first time you’d done this, he’d been skeptical, unsure of your motives. But it hadn’t taken long before he was hooked, and honestly, neither of you had any intention of stopping. “Well,” he says, a low whistle escaping his lips as his hands move to your waist, his fingers tightening just enough to pull you closer, “whatever you want, pretty girl."
His voice drips with amusement, as if he’s indulging you—and maybe himself—at the same time. Without waiting for a response, Rafe’s hand slips from your waist to press firmly against the small of your back, guiding you toward the bed. The door shuts behind you with a soft click, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you, the air thick with tension.
You push him onto the mattress, the movement swift and confident, and without hesitation, you climb onto his lap, straddling his hips, your top slipping off in one smooth motion. His hands find your waist again, his thumbs tracing lazy circles against your bare skin as his eyes lock onto yours. “You’re full of surprises tonight,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, sending a rush of heat through you.
You smile down at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Just felt like being close to you, Mr. Cameron,” you murmur, resting your hands against his chest. There’s no denying it—after all the nights spent together, after the passion and intensity that marked each encounter, it was hard not to catch feelings. You’d tried to push them down, tried to keep it business as usual, but Rafe had a way of making it impossible to remain detached.
Rafe chuckles, but his eyes narrow with suspicion, as if he can see right through the act. “Close to me, huh?” he muses, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or is this about Topper?” His grin widens, clearly amused by his own thoughts, but before you can reply, he shakes his head, a soft laugh escaping him. “You know, I’ve already given him the second-best office in the building. What more does he want?”
You can’t help but roll your eyes at his comment, a playful smile tugging at your lips as your fingers trace the collar of his shirt. “He just wants that promotion real bad, baby,” you say, your voice light and teasing as you lean down just enough to close the space between you. “He’s been working his ass off, you know.”
Rafe’s laugh rumbles beneath you, a sound that vibrates against your chest, and his hands slide down to grip your waist with an almost possessive force. “Working his ass off, huh?” he repeats mockingly, his smirk unfaltering. “And sending you in here to convince me, huh? That’s dedication.” You grin, meeting his eyes with a mixture of playfulness and something darker.
“But hey, I’m not complaining,” Rafe adds, his hands gripping your ass firmly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as his eyes never leave yours. You bite your lip lightly, feeling the heat building between you both, and Rafe hums beneath you, tilting his head slightly as his fingers dig into your sides. He pulls you closer, his body pressing firmly against yours. “If this is his idea of a plan,” he says, voice thick with amusement, “I gotta say, it’s not the worst one.”
A wicked grin spreads across his face, and his eyes gleam with something darker now—something that tells you he’s enjoying the control, the power he has over you. “But if you keep this up babe,” he warns, “I might just forget all about Topper’s promotion.” You laugh softly, though your pulse quickens at the intensity in his eyes.
“Guess we’ll see how good my persuasion skills are, then,” you reply, your voice hushed with anticipation, feeling the electric charge between you as you lean in for another kiss, your body pressing fully against his.
~
"So, will you do it? Give him the promotion?" The question slips from your lips as you prop yourself up on your forearms, your gaze locked on Rafe as he slides into his boxers, a casual motion that betrays nothing of the tension in the room. His smirk is as infuriating as it is irresistible, his eyes glinting with a knowing amusement that makes your chest tighten. He chuckles softly, the sound low and teasing, as he moves toward you, the air between you two heavy with something unspoken.
“I’ll think about it,” Rafe replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm but layered with something you can’t quite place. He lingers in front of you, his face so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him. For a moment, the air between you feels heavier, quieter, the world outside his room fading into irrelevance. His piercing blue eyes lock onto yours, searching, as if trying to unearth something buried deep within you.
“What?” you ask, chuckling softly, trying to ease the tension. Rafe’s lips twitch into a small smirk, his gaze flickering down to your mouth before he shrugs, his voice low and teasing. “Nothin’.” Before you can question him further, he leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips—a fleeting touch that leaves you momentarily breathless. He pulls back just as quickly, a boyish grin spreading across his face, like he knows exactly the effect he has on you.
You narrow your eyes at him, raising a brow in mock suspicion. “What are you smiling about?” “Nothing,” he repeats, though the mischievous gleam in his eyes betrays him. You shake your head slightly, unable to help the small smile that tugs at your lips, before sliding out of bed and gathering your clothes.
As you start getting dressed, Rafe’s gaze doesn’t waver, his eyes following your every movement. He leans back against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest, the satisfied smirk never leaving his face. “You good?” he asks, a chuckle rumbling low in his throat as he notices you limping slightly toward the door.
“Just sore,” you mutter, throwing a glance over your shoulder. His grin widens at your admission, his eyes lighting up with smug satisfaction. The way he looks at you—like he knows exactly what he’s done—sends a heat crawling up your neck. “You’re welcome,” he says casually, the arrogance in his tone unmistakable. You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile as you open the door. “Don’t let it go to your head, Cameron.”
“Too late,” he fires back, reclining further into the bed with a cocky grin, his eyes trailing after you as you disappear down the hallway. The door clicks softly behind you as you step into the dimly lit hallway, letting out a small, shaky breath. The quiet feels short-lived, a fragile reprieve from the storm brewing outside of Rafe’s room. You barely take a step forward when Topper suddenly appears in front of you, his face shadowed but unmistakably tense.
“What did he say?” His voice is sharp and demanding, startling you so much that your hand flies to your chest in an attempt to steady your racing heartbeat. “Fuck, Top!” you exclaim, your voice pitched with a mix of irritation and lingering adrenaline. “Don’t scare me like that!” You swat at his chest in frustration, but he doesn’t even flinch. His face remains stone-cold, his eyes burning with impatience.
“What. Did. Rafe. Say?” he asks again, his tone slower now but no less intense, every word laced with a simmering urgency that makes your stomach twist. You blink at him, struggling to find the right words, knowing he’s not going to like what you have to say. “He, uh… said he’ll think about it,” you murmur, the hesitance in your voice betraying the slight embarrassment you feel admitting it. You move to brush past him, hoping to avoid the explosion you sense is coming.
But Topper grabs your arm, his grip firm and unrelenting, forcing you to stop. The touch isn’t painful, but it carries a weight that feels heavier than it should. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘he’ll think about it’?” His voice rises, echoing faintly down the empty hallway, his frustration spilling out in sharp, jagged tones.
You yank your arm out of his grasp, stepping back just enough to put space between you. Your eyebrows knit together as you glare up at him, the tension between you sparking like a live wire. “Exactly what I said,” you bite back, your tone sharpening to match his. “He’ll think about it. That’s all he said, so maybe you should go ask him yourself if you’re so desperate for answers.”
Topper scoffs, the sound low and dripping with contempt as his jaw tightens. He rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, a gesture you’ve seen countless times before—one that usually comes before he says something he’ll regret. The weight of his stare makes your skin crawl, and you can’t help but feel the suffocating pressure of his disappointment. He doesn’t care how uncomfortable this all is for you, how humiliating it feels to play this game on his behalf. To him, you’re just the means to an end—a pawn in his ambition.
“You’re useless,” Topper mutters under his breath, his words laced with venom as he shakes his head. Your eyes narrow, and you take a step closer to him, refusing to let him get the last word. “You know what’s useless, Topper? You thinking you can send me in there to clean up your mess every time something doesn’t go your way. Maybe if you weren’t so desperate, Rafe would’ve already given you what you want,” you snap, the heat in your voice catching him off guard.
For a moment, Topper falters, his face flashing with something between anger and guilt. But just as quickly, his expression hardens again. “I’m doing this for us,” he says through gritted teeth, his voice lowering. “Us?” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you glare at him. “Don’t pretend this is about me. You only care about that promotion. Don’t act like I’m the one who owes you anything.”
Topper’s silence is deafening, his jaw working furiously as if he’s holding back a response. Without another word, you turn and walk away, your heart pounding as the sound of your heels clicks against the hardwood floor.
~
“I’m comin’!” Rafe’s voice echoes through the house, casual and annoyed as he makes his way to the front door. He swings it open, expecting anything but you standing there. His brows raise slightly, surprise flickering across his face. “Y/n?” he says, leaning against the doorframe, that trademark smirk already tugging at his lips. “Back so soon? What does Topper want now—”
You don’t give him the chance to finish. Without hesitation, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him down, pressing your lips to his in a heated kiss. His words die in his throat, replaced by a soft grunt of surprise that quickly turns into amusement.
“Shut up,” you murmur against his lips, barely pulling away before moving to brush kisses along his jawline. Your voice is low and breathy as you add, “Topper didn’t send me.”“Oh?” Rafe smirks, his voice dropping into that teasing, cocky tone that always gets under your skin. His hands slide down to your hips, his fingers gripping you firmly, pulling you closer to him. “So what, you missed me already?”
You roll your eyes, though your lips curve into a small smile against his skin. “Something like that,” you reply, tilting your head just enough to look up at him. Rafe chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest as he steps back, tugging you inside by your waist and letting the door shut behind you. His smirk deepens as he studies you, the playful glint in his eyes growing darker. “So, if you’re not here to play messenger, what’s the occasion, huh?”
You let out a soft laugh, your hands moving to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair as you tug him down to meet your gaze. “Does there always have to be a reason?” you tease, arching a brow. Rafe’s hands tighten their hold on your hips, his grin widening as he leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Not when it comes to you, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine.
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xoxotiamathh · 2 days ago
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Light Switch: Turn On(s) and Off(s)
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Note: NO MINORS. Hi angels! There's 3 topics here, one for your current partner, one for your FS and one for your Next Partner, you can choose both Piles one after the other. Paid Readings are open now! Only a few slots are open right now! Please like and Reblog if you like.
Current $ ! % • Next 1 2 3 • FS a b c
Masterlist • Paid Readings + FB • Tip Jar
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Current Partner
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Next Partner
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Future Spouse
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Current Boyfriend:
Pile $
Okay so, what turns them on is when you are out and about being free spirited, being social and coming out of your shell, they love seeing you interact with other people because they think there's just something so bright and confident in the way you handle your conversations with others that just lights a fire in them. They also enjoys slow, teasing touches when it just gets too unbearable to keep waiting and maybe also phone sex or like sexting thats the kind of person where, before you even get physical, the mind does most of its work. They are all about emotional intimacy that becomes physical. They want soulful sex which is not only about body parts, but more about a deep connection like slow build-ups of lingering kisses, soft touch of skin on skin, exploring each other like it's the first time, every time. Eye contact is a big deal they love when you're both lost in each other oofff hot!
Now for the turn-offs, if it's just the same old, same old if it feels too routine, they're out. Predictable sex doesn't do it for them. They need some edge, something spontaneous. Routine is not the only thing they dislike, they could also feel turned off when they feel like you’re trying to control or dominate them. Too much force or intense power struggles can turn them off. They need balance, not someone trying to overpower them in the bedroom. Gentle dominance might be their thing, but if you push them into something more extreme like bdsm or smn, they may get put off.
Pile !
Mmmm ok ok so they're into the mystery, the allure of the unknown, so what turns them on is literally not knowing, but not surprises just when you are being all mysterious, dam. Also doing things in public, like not public but the thrill of almost getting caught is something that gets them going like there's no tomorrow, a little deserted area in like idk a mall complex Ya that's what they like. They want the sex that feels secret like you both are doing something forbidden, hidden touches, something naughty, and those dark, emotional undercurrents that turn you both on. Maybe even a little roleplay, specifically idk why I'm seeing Jessica Rabbit, but they want you to actively seduce them, almost like, them pretending to be reluctant and wanting you to "coerce" them all like with former consent and conversations of course. They're also aroused by the build-up, long, drawn-out foreplay, teasing them till they're desperate for you. They like that gripping slowness with, slowly undressing, taking your time, also the kind of person who wants to edge you and make you beg for it and vice versa wanting you to make them wait until you both can't stand it anymore.
Okay so although the loves mystery, hidden agendas, playing games, or just suddenly going hot and cold? Nope. They are not into materialistic or transactional sex if you’re treating sex like a “trade” or trying to buy their affection, forget it. They wants genuine chemistry, raw passion, not an exchange. Like they don't like partners who are too materialistic or too into all that conspicuous consumption type thing, it really turns them off like crazy. They also don't like messy, and explosive energy. No awkwardness or emotional wreckage in bed, things need to flow and not fall apart.Like breakup or hate sex or like fighting, that can be like an aphrodisiac for some but for them its just so bleh, that they just want to distance themselves after any sort of conflict.
Pile %
Ok no one is surprised but they are most turnd off during the aftercare and like the time you have after sex when you both just cuddle each other and just lie there inside the afterglow, no rush. Feeling their skin on yours, sensual massage with whispers and lazy kisses before the both of you drift of slowly. Abother sapiosexual here y'all, wildly turned on by your mind flirty texts, dirty talk, and that playful mental foreplay that builds the sexual tension. Transformation in the bedroom, they;re not afraid of change and love exploring new dynamics, role-playing, or even kinky sex that pushes the boundaries of what you two have already explored. Maybe it's bondage, its probably the idea of a power shift. They would be very turned on at the idea of you submitting to them and again vice versa it goes both ways, but the former is definitely more appealing for them.
If you are performing, trying to fake it or be something you're not, they can tell, they need authenticity. If it feels like sex is a game or you're trying to impress them, it will be a major turn-off. No hesitation, they're not into slow, timid sex. They need you to be bold, confident, and willing to take charge. Uncertainty is not hot and they love someone who can be passionate, not someone constantly questioning or pulling back. This is random but they may not be big on like the sound stuff, like if theres a lot of sound during oral, they may get overwhelmed and stop feeling anything at all.
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Next Boyfriend:
Pile 1
They get turned on when you celebrate your own small wins, moments of being connected that feel really explosive. They want an experience where everything seems to flow perfectly, and you let go of your inhibitions together, becoming one with each other. A night that feels like an achievement, something worth bragging about. Whether it's after a long, hard day or a special event, he's into that sort of fiery passion that feels like an explosion of joy and lust. Honestly, ok, this may sound bad, but it's not, they just care a lot more about lust, like it gets them off. Okay so, mystery is a huge turn-on. They love the idea of hidden desires and those moments where both feel like you're caught up in a world of your own. Okay so they may also be into like heavy bondage both on them and on you, but more on them, they like giving up control it turns them on. Loves a good slow burn, really enjoys holding out with foreplay, teasing each other just enough so you both are desperate to get at it. Imagine hours of touching, kissing, and discovering, making the final release so much more satisfying. They're a big fan of making things last, giving every moment the attention it deserves, stretching the anticipation to its absolute limit soooo edging and then maybe overstimulation after is something they may be into.
They're not into overly sentimentalized or romanticized sex. When things feel too sweet, or it's more about an emotional connection, they may check out. They needs wild, raw, intense sex that has a lot of passion and lust and not as much love im sorry guys T_T. They aren't about "love-making" where everything has to be about deep emotional bonding and soft, slow moments they're about passion, and they don't need the emotional connection on all levels with someone during sex, just something primal is what they need. They are also turned off by any pressure or expectations in the bedroom. Sex needs to be fun, effortless, and full of pleasure. If it starts to feel like a chore or you’re both putting in too much effort to keep things interesting, he’ll lose interest. No obligatory sex either they want it to feel like its just another thing in their day, like if either of you invest "too much" they're out, god this screamsss commitment issues im T_T.
Pile 2
They are turned on by confidence, not only in the way you look but also in the way you carry yourself. They love it when you feel comfortable in your own body, and confident in your own sexual power. There's something extremely sexy about a person who knows what they want and isn't afraid to take it. If you can walk into a room with that seductive energy, they're already thinking of a hundred ways they want you that night iykwim. They exude like pureee fire energy and love when you bring that bold, fearless attitude to the bedroom. They want you to be playful, yet sensual, taking charge without hesitation. Don't be shy to show them your naughty side, talk dirty to them and dominant positions like cowgirl or reverse cowgirl will definitely turn them on too, just wanting you on top. I'll leave you with three words: Impulsive, Submissive (them) and Animalistic thats it, go crazy go wild.
Okay so they're not much into when you are too nurturing in bed, it may make them feel smothered and turn them off like showing that maternal or nurturing energy at the wrong time, you can make them feel crushed. It's all about going crazy stupid etc and nothing about responsibility. If you are too comfortable, too much in a settled routine, then it doesn't turn him on. They want that newness, that spark that makes everything feel fresh and exciting. Sex should feel like a rush, not something that's guaranteed or too planned out. They are not that interested in domination or dominating. If you play the dominant role with aggression or try to twist roles in a way that feels like they're being overpowered, he will love that. Sometimes tho they want to not have that dynamic and be equal in bed, he likes to believe the two of you can come out of sex feeling balanced.
Pile 3
OOO love this, they get turned on by deep connections that go beyond just physical attraction. They want to feel like there's an emotional bond between you both that translates into passion in the bedroom, the kind of sex that feels like a soul connection where both of you are craving each other so intensely that it's not just sex but it's like you're becoming one. They like it when everything just flows into place, and you just melt into each other grrr this is so hot gn gn gn. They're into that feeling of indulgence during sex too where it feels like you're in touch with the richness of everything, every touch feels so warm and electric and rewarding. They also love when you take your time and you both savour each moment. Like sensual massages, lingering kisses, and a slow buildup that's more about physical gratification than a quick rush to the finish. Guys this person is so ughhhh i want them lmao THIS IS THE I WANT THEM PILE anyway let me continue They want to feel fully surrendered when it comes to you, they're turned on by that level of attraction, the kind where you both want each other so badly that there's no denying the chemistry. There's a dangerous energy here because the lovers popped into my head like you both can't control yourselves, and that unpredictability turns them on.
Okay simple person does not like or want mental games or anything that makes them feel trapped in their head. Any feeling of hesitation and confusion in the mind can immediately take them out of the mood. They need freedom and he is turned off by imbalance. They are going to tune out if it feels like you are only there to please them or if you are not on the same level of pleasure. They want to feel that it's a give-and-take kind of thing, where both of you are on the same level in making each other feel amazing. If you give more than you receive, or vice versa, that is going to sit badly with them. They likes mutual satisfaction where both parties are on the same level of fun. They also don't fw emotional baggage. They will quickly shut down if you bring in past hurt or if you're emotionally unavailable. They turn off anything with lingering sadness or emotional blockages during sex. They are looking for a partner who can put the past aside and live in the moment. If you're not ready to enjoy the moment with them, or if you bring any past relationship drama into the mix, it will kill the mood.
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Future Spouse:
Pile a
Oh law conflict turns them on so much whether it's after a fight or just the two of you taking the frustration out after a busy day, they love the rawness that comes from the negative feelings and love channelling that sexually because they may find it difficult to like express themselves in another way. They will be v v turned on by your depth and empathic nature and loves when people open up to them on an emotional level, which opens up a space for deep connection before the physical part comes in. They will be seduced by your nurturing, sensual touch, where you guide them through a moment of emotional vulnerability. Moreover, a connection where sex feels like an expression of love, trust, and emotional fulfilment too, also the kind that thrives on that initial spark of chemistry, there is something about the physical contact that turns him on and they love when the passion between you two feels explosive. If you take the lead with passionate kisses, touching, and mood setting, they will definitely feel the heat building up. Love when others take control, kinda pillow princess-y
They're turned off by stagnation. If you Alright now onto the turn-offs, one of the main turn offs could be when you leave them hanging, or make them wait too long for something, this is in general not you specifically but they are just someone who is very impatient and do not appreciate stagnation and things not moving at their pace. They may also get turned off if someone is a bit of a show off and they will also not like being physically overpowered like it could turn them off because they may be the one who would want to show that aspect off, being strong may be very important to them and if someone can physically overpower them they may just no longer be interested. Furthermore, if someone is to secretive or tries to play too hard to get, they will just stop trying, they are not someone who’s into “the chase” because they grow tired and they believe they are a grown adult not wanting to act juvenile. two get into a pattern or there is too much waiting, too much space, or sex becomes automatic, he'll lose interest. He does not want to feel that he waits for something to happen or that you are withholding or disengaged. Maintain the fluidity of energy: spontaneous and constantly in movement. He needs to feel like there's always something new to discover, or else the passion dies down.
Pile b
They are completely turned on by your sensuality, not just your physical appearance, but how you exude a divine, like soft energy. Whether it's your confidence, the way you move, or the way you connect with them emotionally, they are attracted to the sense that they're with someone who feels at ease in their own skin and radiates warmth, care, and affection. Ykw what turns them on? someone they think they can grow old with. This is someone who likes to celebrate wins with their partner through sex and lovemaking and, body worship like them to their partner or well you is a big big big turn on for them. If you provide for them a space that they feel is secure, they will express passion. This person enjoys having someone who is seriously devoted to making them feel desirable and cared for too.
Alright so, they hate the classics LMAO sorry, the first thing that popped up in my head was NO MISSIONARY like... ok moving on, what turns them off is that they cannot stand inactivity like their libido is high, and they need someone to match their freak like that, it's like where they want to pounce like... almost constantly lmao so if there's like a libido discrepancy it may be a turn-off. They don't want any drama or combat in the bedroom. If any kind of verbal or emotional manipulation is going on or if sex is being used as some kind of way to "win" something over them, its over, they are not into games either, they want connection and vulnerability.
Pile c
Freaky ahh pile SORRY ok moving on, they are giving v v taurus and venus energy with the way their biggest turn-on is having all the senses pleasured and catered to, they love luxury. Like candles, silk sheets, gentle lighting and anything that appeals to the senses and brings pleasure to the body will definitely turn him on. They also like a slow burn, where you both take your time with foreplay and focus on each other's physical enjoyment before diving in. There's an indulgence to this, creating an atmosphere that's rich in sensation will heighten the connection. Whether it’s giving them a sensual massage, taking your time with every kiss, or getting lost in each other’s bodies, this will drive them wild.
They're turned off by someone who's not emotionally present or who holds back. If you're not fully engaged or if you're stuck in the past, emotionally distant, or emotionally unavailable, it's going to drain the sexual energy between you. They are not into emotional baggage that makes you withdraw from the connection. They crave reassurance and closeness, so if sex feels cold or disconnected, it's going to disrupt the passion. They are also repelled by drama, betrayal, or anything that seems like it is the sharp end to a situation. If sex is being used to avoid conflict, they will back off, and they don't want sex to feel like an escape from pain or hardship. They are also turned off by a lack of choice, like if they feel like someone picked them because its like a last resort rather than being picked from a bunch of people like a choice, it turns them off big time.
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halfwayhearted · 1 day ago
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Sore Eyes — Paige Bueckers.
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Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Fem!Reader
Summary: After finally acquiring a jersey with your girlfriend’s name on it, you want nothing more than to flaunt it to her.
Word Count: 600+
Disclaimer/s — Hi, this is gay… FLUFF, FLUFF, AND FLUFF!
A/N: Mannnn. Nobody say a WOOOOORD. FUCK 😭😭😭😭
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It first started when you received the box in the mail. Already knowing what was inside, a smile graced your lips while you brought it up to your apartment, the box tucked under your forearm.
You spotted the blonde on the couch, scrolling through her phone, fingers pressed to her mouth as she was deeply engrossed in a video playing.
That’s when you exclaimed. “Paige! Paige, look!”
At the sound of your voice, Paige lifts her head immediately, setting her phone aside and rising to her feet. Her brows knit together when she spots the package. “Hi, I’m looking. What’d you get?”
“You’ll see. Come here, we’ll open it together.”
Already intrigued, she makes her way toward you in the kitchen, her gaze never leaving yours even as you move to sit down. She takes the seat in front of you, ensuring just a smidge of contact.
Setting the box down, you grab a pair of scissors and slide it through the cracks, pulling the cardboard open. That's when both of you spot the bag, and your smile widens. “You got a shirt?”
"Not just a shirt,” you drawl, slipping the bag out and reaching for it. “I got a jersey. Your jersey.”
Her eyebrows raise at that. “You got my jersey?”
“I got your jersey!” You echo excitedly, eyes focused on tenderly taking it out of its packaging.
“You do know I could’ve given you one for free.”
That’s when you look up at her. “Paige—babe, you’re ruining the romantic part of the moment.”
She offers a laugh, placing her hands on the back of your knees and pulling you closer. “Sorry. I’m excited to see you wear it—you’ll look good in it.”
Fighting the blush that threatens to spread across your cheeks, you carefully lay the jersey flat on the table. “So, you have a game tomorrow, right?”
“I do. Did you change your mind? Are you going?” Paige questions, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as her head tilts. You hadn’t been able to attend any of her recent games in person, though you never failed to watch them on television. She’d never catch you missing any of her games.
That meant more to her than you’d ever realize.
Your expression softens and you nod. “If that’s—”
“Are you joking? If that’s what I want? Of course that’s what I want. I’ll save you a seat in the front.”
“Beautiful! Beautiful! I’ll so be there.” You paused, swiftly whipping out a permanent marker. “Can I have your autograph now or what? Let me know.”
Paige narrows her eyes, the smile on her face only broadening as she lets out a quiet huff, teasingly snatching the marker from your hand. Her eyes remain fixed on you; she leans over, then they drift down to the jersey and she signs her name.
“This could actually sell for hundreds, I think.”
Uttering your name, she moves to flick your arm. “Shut up—come on, let’s go to bed. ‘M tired.”
That’s when you stand, holding out a hand which she gratefully takes and uses to stand up herself. Using her free hand to grab your jersey, the roughness of her actions makes you frown. “Hello, Paige, what the hell? Be careful with that. That was over, like, ninety bucks if you even care.”
She nods slowly, trying (and failing) to hold in her chuckle. “I’m terribly sorry.” And with that, your girlfriend delicately hangs it over her wrist, looks over at you for approval, and when you give her just that, she places a loving kiss on your temple.
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Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.
DT(s) — @planetpedri + @lechrts + @iovepoem + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ
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cutielando · 17 hours ago
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game night | l.n.
synopsis: in which game night gets a little too competitive
a/n: based on this request!
my masterlist
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As the winter break finally came around, Lando had made plans for him, you, Max and Pietra to take a trip to the mountains, just the four of you.
Which is how you guys found yourselves nestled comfortably in a cabin deep into the Swiss mountains, chatting it up and just enjoying the quiet atmosphere that the off-season provided you with.
But, knowing Lando, he couldn’t stay still for more than an hour at times, and would always find something else to do.
Just like he did now.
“I’m bored” he had announced, groaning and throwing his head back against the couch.
You chuckled, knowing he would have said that sooner or later.
“So?” Max asked, looking up from his phone at his friend.
Lando was silent for a moment, contemplating about how he could cure his sudden found boredom.
“Let’s play a game or something” he suggested, his eyes lighting up.
"Like what?" you asked, your hands running through his curls softly.
He pondered for a moment, his eyes glancing around the cabin living room before his eyes landed on a shelf full of board games.
Not saying anything, he jumped up from his spot on the couch next to you, beelining for the shelf to analyze what he was working with.
"Let's play Monopoly" he said, his eyes twinkling as he took the box in his hands and rushing back to sit down next to you.
You, Max and P all groaned in unison, the last thing either of you wanted was to play Monopoly with Lando.
Lando stopped in his tracks, looking at the three of you with wide eyes.
"What?" he asked, his shoulders deflating.
"Mate, you know how you get whenever we play Monopoly" Max said, glaring at him.
He pouted, looking at you for support.
You bit your lip and shrugged, making him gasp.
"You too?" he asked, looking at you with a hand over his heart.
"Baby, I love you, but you know how competitive you get whenever we play" you said, trying to be as gentle and nice as possible.
"But I want to play..." he said, pouting and looking at the ground.
You sighed, shaking your head as you exchanged looks with Max. Both of you knew Lando was playing the both of you, wanting to make you feel bad for not wanting to let him play.
Max sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Fine, we'll play" he muttered, making Lando erupt into a wide smile as he sprinted towards the coffee table to lay everything out.
You laughed at his antics, shaking your head fondly.
"I wanna team up with P" you called out as she took your hand.
Lando whipped his head around, staring at you with betrayal written all over his face.
"What? Why? We always team up together" he said, his eyes sad.
He almost made you change your mind, but flashbacks of past game nights with Lando made you stand firm.
"That's exactly why we should change things up a little bit" you argued, trying to keep his spirits up.
He pouted, glaring at you while setting up the board. He kept it up for a minute or two longer before he sighed and nodded.
"Fine, but just this time" he said, pointing to you.
You nodded and leaned over to kiss his lips quickly before you got and moved so you were sitting next to Pietra.
Lando huffed once again before he finally let go of his anger and instead focus on "discussing strategies" with Max.
As the night went on and the game was in full swing, Lando's competitive side slowly started to show itself when Max landed on one of your properties and had to pay you almost all the money they had.
"MAX! What the fuck, mate? You just walked right into their trap!" Lando shouted, pushing Max as he stared at him with wide eyes.
“I can’t control the fucking dice, now, can I?” Max argued back.
You and P, on the other hand, were trying not to laugh, finding the exchange between them too funny.
They continued to bicker like this until late into the night before you called it quits on the game.
Instead, you were now snuggled up on the couch with Lando, the fireplace doing a fantastic job of warming you up.
The world around you was silent, the only sound echoing through the warm cabin being the crackle of the fireplace.
Lando was staring at the crackling fire, his hand playing with the ends of your hair.
Looking down at you, he noticed that your eyes were shut, your breathing evened out as you peacefully slept on him.
Smiling a little, he pressed a soft and gentle kiss on your forehead, whispering a quiet "I love you" as he let himself succumb to a peaceful sleep.
Dreaming of you.
...and beating you at Monopoly.
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duusheen · 3 days ago
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It’s time for Pandora to leave, and not everyone in the family feels the same about her leaving home 😔
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anxietyinatrenchcoat · 2 days ago
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It's maybe not the same but my spouse's parents never came to anything of theirs either. Nothing. Not high school graduation, not college graduation, absolutely nothing. So I go to everything of theirs that I can, and I bring friends, and I bring my parents, and I bring everyone who wants to come. Spouse's pub league is holding finals? Me and my soccer-loving dad are going. They have a work event that they want support at? Me and another non-profit friend are going.
The look in their eyes when they saw me crutching my way across the field to say hi in between games--that's what it's about. That's why I left my bed when I was in pain and depressed, why I sat outside in the cold for an hour and a half to watch them play. They deserve all the support in the world, and I know I can never make up for the support their parents didn't bring them, but I can support them now.
You can break the cycle with friends, too. You can celebrate holidays together and take them out for dinner when they get a promotion or become a doctoral candidate or just because. The world needs more kindness, and it's up to each of us to bring our kindness to the world.
my parents never came to anything I did.
I have so many memories about this, but one in particular: when I was away at camp with 89 other teenagers, and at the one-month mark the post was collected distributed to all the dorms. 89 other children tore open their boxes and, shovelling handfuls of sweets their parents had sent them into their mouths, read pages-long letters and handed around photos of their brothers and sisters.
I didn't. I didn't get anything, I sat on my empty bed watching them. The teachers had to call my parents and ask if perhaps the post had gone missing...? but my parents were surprised they were required to interact with me while I was away.
Well, today, my 3-year-old daughter had a fun-run. The childcare centre invited parents to come but stressed that if we weren't able to, it was alright. There was no fucking way I wasn't going. My daughter wasn't going to be the only child there without a parent watching.
I got time off work and stood there in the beating sun and plastered in greasy sunscreen waiting to see my little girl emerge from inside the centre and stand on the track.
When she did, her little eyes searched through the crowd person-by-person for me, and absolutely lit up like the sun when she spotted me.
Mine filled with tears as I waved at her and cheered.
I'm breaking the cycle.
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afterglowkatie · 2 days ago
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the bolter | m.p./i.e.
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mapi león x ingrid engen x putellas!reader | 0.8k | ‘I know you’re supposed to keep a close eye on me, but this is a little extreme,’
ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of the pollito universe. pollito is nine in this fic!
❆♡────୨ holiday season blurb event ৎ────♡❆
‘María,’ Alexia exhaled slowly, ‘What do you mean you lost Pollito?’ If Alexia wasn’t just down the other end of the phone, Mapi would’ve already started running. She wasn’t even facing your Mami in person and she felt like she had to run away from Alexia’s wrath. 
You liked to run and hide away from Mapi, you thought it was funny when you’d watch from afar, seeing her all frantic. Even better when your mami got involved, you’d end up teasing Mapi for getting in trouble. Safe to say you were never going to change, you took too much joy in it all. 
‘Did I say lost?’ Mapi spoke out slowly, trying to think of a way to diffuse whatever this was turning into while she was frantically still trying to find you, ‘Well yes, I meant Pollito lost the..the game we were playing,’ A small curse flew was muttered under her breath and Alexia definitely wasn’t about to believe anything she was saying. 
‘Alright,’ Your Mami sounded too calm, ‘Put Pollito on the phone, por favor,’ Mapi’s eyes grew wide and she stumbled over saying a goodbye and how you were having too much fun to talk. Even at nine years old, you still liked talking to your mami whenever you could and would run to whoever was looking after you at the time if you heard your mami’s voice.
Mapi hung the phone up but not before hearing Alexia mutter a ‘I’m never leaving Pollito with you again,’ Which was always an empty threat, considering the next time your mami left you with Mapi wasn’t long after that. Mostly since you begged your mami to let you have a sleepover with Bagheera and you knew how to wear your mami down so she’d agree to almost anything.
‘You better not lose Pollito again,’ Alexia raised her eyebrow, there wasn’t a hint of a smile on her face when she was talking with Mapi before giving you over. Mapi and Ingrid had come to pick you up, planning to take you out for the day as well. You’d overheard your mami’s conversation with Mapi and knew Ingrid was the only reason she’d agreed so soon after the last incident. 
You saw the way your mami was looking at Mapi and very smugly copied her, you liked Mapi being in trouble with your mami. Your mami can be scary, so as long as it wasn’t at you, you loved seeing it, ‘Oh trust me, I’ll keep a very close eye on her,’ Your smug expression turned into a glare when you noticed the mischievous glint in Mapi’s eyes when she turned to look at you.
‘I wish I could,’ Your mami muttered mostly under her breath before shaking her head at the two of you and disappearing back into the house, still needing to look after your younger brother and your new baby sister. Officially letting Ingrid be the one to deal with the two of you for now.
Your glare towards Mapi left for about a millisecond before it came back once she tried, and unfortunately was successful, in wrangling you into one of those backpack leashes. Those ones for children, which you were but you were definitely too old for it considering how it was sitting on you. Your deadpan stare was almost identical to your mami, and almost chilling enough for Mapi to briefly forget that you were the child and that she got to make the decisions, not you. She almost let you out of it immediately.
‘I know you’re supposed to keep a close eye on me, but this is a little extreme,’ You wriggled around trying to get it off of you, all your attempts were pointless. You weren’t getting away any time soon.
‘Just keeping you safe, little Pollito,’ To add fuel to the fire, Mapi patted your head, talking down to you a little, making you seem smaller than you are.
‘María,’ Ingrid’s voice had a warning tone towards her girlfriend, not wanting to spend the entire day listening to the two of you bicker. She especially didn’t want to have to deal with Mapi bickering with a nine year old all day long. 
‘Or keeping you safe from Mami,’ Mapi didn’t have to look at you to hear the smirk through your voice. You may only be nine but you picked up on things most wouldn’t expect you to at this age. 
‘Dios mio,’ Mapi muttered, wanting to say more but the look from Ingrid stopped her. You tried to run off, hoping the end Mapi was holding would slip from her hand. But she wasn’t as distracted as you’d hoped when you were tugged back instantly.
Sighing dramatically, you let your body go limp and flopped to the ground, ‘Just take me to see my Bagheera,’ 
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This year, my husband - a man with zero prior interest in visual arts or architecture beyond going "That's nice to look at" - has suddenly become enamoured with art deco. This is fun, because it means he gets delighted every time I point out a decorative pillar on a building, or a funky and vertically asymmetrical font. He also has decided that I, a person with an A Level in art, must know all about the art deco movement and be an expert in its design features, so I am having to regularly remind him that this is not the case and he probably knows more than me, given that two weeks ago I walked in on him reading the art deco Wikipedia article for fun and pleasure.
Anyway, this has led him to look up video games featuring art deco, so now we are playing BioShock. So far, we've made it to Arcadia, the forest that got privatised by libertarian maniac Andrew Ryan, and we just had to sit through Ryan ranting at us that he built a paradise while we just want to steal it from him; which is very interesting, given that Rapture is a crumbling ruin of a fallen civilisation filled with post-apocalyptic cannibalistic thugs trying to murder little girls and each other for corpse juice. Like, my dude, my guy, what exactly is anyone supposed to be taking from you. Do you think this is still working? Do you think this is successful? Corpse juice. Dude.
Anyway this is also the life of Elon Musk on Twitter
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street-smarts00 · 2 days ago
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Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do
Spencer Reid x Reader
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Summary: Your first Christmas with Spencer and you get his name for secret Santa. 
WC: 1.8k
Tags: Fluff, Secret Santa, friends to lovers, one use of Y/N I think A/N: Sorry I went MIA :( I got busy with school. I hope to push out many ideas while I’m on break tho. Here’s something cheesy and festive for the holiday season I hope you enjoy! (not beta read don't kill me)
Nothing was right. Nothing you found was the right present. 
This was your first secret Santa with the BAU and you picked Spencer's name out of penelope’s mug. At first you thought it would be easy to buy a present for him because you knew him so well. In almost a year of being with the BAU you grew the closest with Spencer. 
What you didn’t expect was your present ideas to not live up to your own expectations. Nothing you came up with could live up to your own standards. Of course your “slight” feelings for him definitely affected this, but you tried to tell yourself that wasn’t true. 
You ran through dozens of ideas. Clothing, a new scarf, tickets for a play, special edition of a book he loved. But nothing felt like the right present. 
You almost gave up in your search for the perfect present for him. The gift exchange was in less than a week and you still had nothing. Sitting at your desk in the bullpen you considered settling with one of your first ideas. 
While getting up to refill your coffee mug you noticed Spencer’s attention was focused on his computer. He sat there deep in thought with his brows furrowed and lips in a fine line. When you walked by his desk you saw he was playing an online chess game. 
“Working hard or hardly working?” you joked. 
He popped out of his focus from your presence. “I finished my files a little early,” he responded bashfully. 
“Are you at least winning?” 
He smirked, “I’ve won four times. But that’s not even the fun part. The fun is doing different plays every time and seeing what the computer comes up with as the best response.” 
That’s when it hit you. An idea for Spencer’s gift. 
Finally something that felt like a good gift for him. At the end of the day you rushed out of work to go to the craft store and get your supplies. You worked on the gift everyday after work. 
Soon the weekend rolled around and you found yourself at Rossi’s. His living room had the biggest Christmas tree you’d ever seen. Everyone’s gifts sat there for the evening. After dinner you all sat down to exchange gifts. 
“I want to go first!” Garcia exclaimed. She jumped up from the couch and hurried to the tree to grab her gift for JJ. 
JJ excitedly opened the gift bag to find a small black and grey purse with a colorful crochet keychain. The idea that Garcia also handmade part of her gift gave you a sense of relief. 
“Oh this is so pretty. Thank you so much,” she beamed, admiring the bag and twirling the keychain. Garcia squealed in happiness before JJ offered a hug to her. 
JJ then handed over her gift to Rossi, a bottle of scotch. He smiled and thanked her for the bottle saying how his collection needed a new addition. 
He stood up and brought his hands together looking at the tree. “My turn.” He grabbed a thin box wrapped in silver sparkly wrapping paper and walked over to you. 
“For you, my dear,” he handed you the box. 
Your eyes widened and lips perked up at the gift. It may be a little silly but, part of you wished that you were Spencer’s secret santa. You reminded yourself that the possibility of you both picking each other's names was unlikely. The possibility of some things being the same between the two of you was … unlikely. 
You ripped back the paper to reveal a large eyeshadow pallet. Upon opening it, you saw an array of beautiful shades you couldn’t wait to try out. 
“Rossi, this is so sweet. I love it,” You thanked with a bright smile. 
Now it was your turn. Everyone’s eyes only made the moment more stressful. You got up and grabbed the box with a nervous hand. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was too cheesy or corny? What if he thought it was useless as he already owned two of them?
You tried to quiet your thoughts as you handed him the box, but they had no intention of leaving.
“Merry Christmas Spence,” you said softly.
When you turned and walked back to your seat you neglected to see the rising blush on his face. 
Spencer glanced down at the white and red striped paper. He carefully peeled it off and opened the lid to reveal a chess set nestled in between red tissue paper. The board spaces were off-white and royal purple with corresponding chess pieces the same colors. When he picked up the wooden pieces and saw small leaves and flowers painted on them. The King and Queen specifically had crowns in a shimmering gold. 
“Wow look at that,” Emily admired.
Upon further inspection he noticed the small human imperfections in the details. The way not one leaf or flower looked exactly the same. Or how the clear coating over the paint was slightly streaky in some spots. 
“Did you paint this?” He asked.
You nodded your head and answered , “Yeah I did.” 
A faint “awe” could be heard across the room from Garcia. 
“Y/N,” Spencer started, his voice full of admiration. “This is … beautiful.” 
The butterflies in your stomach were getting restless. 
“Really?” you asked, not able to hide the smile spreading on your face. 
“Yes! It’s Perfect,” his eyes sparkled at you. “I love it. Nobody’s ever given me something like this.” He beamed at you with a smile that made you love sick. 
The realization that you both were not alone set in and Spencer cleared his throat before closing the box. The gift exchange continued as Spencer handed over a present to Morgan. 
The rest of the night was filled with catching glances and far away looks between you and Spencer. He seemed to feel more relaxed in a way after receiving your gift. Not that he was acting any differently. He just seemed more open. With the group and with you. 
You lived off that feeling the whole evening. The idea that you made him happy. You helped him see he was appreciated and loved. 
Not that he had to know you loved him. 
He didn’t know that. Right? 
As the hands on the clock passed you announced your departure and said your goodbyes. You stepped outside and felt a chill against your skin. 
You held tight onto your keys as you walked to your car. The snow had just started to fall. Occasional little flurries fell down from the sky. 
“Wait!” Someone yelled from behind. 
You turned to find Spencer trying his best to run but not slip on the icy parts of the driveway. When he got closer you noticed his cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink. Probably from the cold weather you thought.
“I wanted to formally say thank you for the chess set,” he explained. 
“You’re welcome,” you replied with a smile. You stuffed your hands in your pockets away from the cold. “I’m glad you like it. I was worried you’d find it cheesy.” 
He looked confused. “Why would I find it cheesy?” 
You shrugged, “because I hand painted it.”
“But that’s what makes it perfect,” he reassured. His voice is sincere and soft. “It’s personal and shows you care.”
His eyes widened. “Oh um-“ 
He suddenly remembered why he rushed outside and scrambled for something in his jacket pocket. It was a small cube shaped box wrapped in paper covered in snowflakes. Quite fitting for the weather.
“I know I technically wasn’t your secret Santa but I still wanted to get you something.”
You took the gift from him with a slack jaw. “Spence-“
“This isn’t because you were my secret Santa. I still wanted to get you a gift regardless,” he reassured. 
“I- Thank you,” you started unwrapping the gift. 
“It’s not homemade like yours but I hope you still like it.”
”It doesn’t have to be homemade for me to-“ the wind was stolen out of your lungs.  
The gift was a small gold and white music box you immediately recognized. You opened the lid to reveal a ballerina in a pink tutu spinning as Sleeping Beauty Waltz played. Your heart ached as you admired the tiny dancer.
”Is this the music box from that antique shop in Seattle?” 
While on a case in Seattle, you and Spencer went to an antique shop to ask the owner about evidence found at the crime scene that was purchased there. You fell in love with a beautiful music box in one of the aisles. 
“It is. I saw how you looked at it in the store and in the car you said it reminded you of when you used to do ballet. So before we left Seattle I went back to the store to get it for you. I thought it would make a great Christmas present.”
“But, that was three months ago.”
He sheepishly smiled and his cheeks only got more red. “Yeah, I had to keep it a secret for a while.”
Your heart rate started to pick up as the butterflies returned. “I can't believe you went back and bought this for me,” you muttered in disbelief. 
“Of course I would. You mean a lot to me and I knew this was something that would make you happy.” 
You admired the music box before carefully placing it in your purse. “Thank you so much. I love it.” 
His smile grew and reached his eyes. His eyes looked beautiful in this lighting. The Christmas lights from the house made them look practically golden. Even in the freezing cold you could melt from his eyes.
He shifted his weight and licked his lips. He seemed wrapped around the words in his head. “I also wanted to ask if maybe you’d want to go see The Nutcracker with me.” 
Your heart damn near stopped. 
“It’s playing at the theater downtown. I was thinking if we don’t get a case then we could go see the show on Friday. Maybe, if you want to, that is,” he rambled in nervousness. 
“I’d love to,” you beamed. 
His face brightened at your eagerness, but his nerves were still present. “But not as friends. As a date?” 
You chuckled, “Yes Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. I think the nutcracker is a perfect first date.”
“Great,” he said with relief. “And maybe afterwards we might have time for a game of chess with my new board.” 
God he was cute. 
“That sounds great.”
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transgender-mothman · 2 days ago
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Maybe your biggest concern should just be playing with people who vibe with your style and not worrying about how or why other people do it the way they do if it’s not effecting you in any way?
If someone is being a jerk about it, sure, go off! I don’t think there’s anything wrong with deep discussions about rules, or following them to the letter, or even having (good natured) arguments about a play choice. But just like playing house rules in Monopoly, or doing your own version of hopscotch, there’s nothing wrong with taking what you like and turning the volume down on the rest.
Unless you are playing in a professional or otherwise regulated setting like at your LGS, and everyone is in agreement, it’s fine to do your own thing. I am not here for people being jerks in any game spaces, so by all means, stop someone if they’re being a Problem™. I feel very strongly that you should play at a table that suits what you want out of the game. And that you should, as a DM, discuss this stuff with your players and see what everyone wants to get out of the campaign.
There is still a lot to gain from playing any ttrpg while still being lenient with rules (be it for rule of cool, or home brew, or just omitting things you don’t like). There are set skills, set things you can do, methods to resolve conflict, and additional impetus to advance the story beyond just roleplay. Not everyone is comfortable doing everything off the dome, and a game like d&d, used even with some leniency and wiggle room, offers some structure and building blocks that can make jumping into roleplaying a lot less intimidating. There is a book to read and reference. You can get an idea how the system works, how games flow, and build based off the knowledge you have and tweak as you and your table see fit. And that’s to say nothing of how having a rubric can help (not entirely prevent, but help!) avoid people who just want to continuously one up and have More Powers Than You At All Times. And you have the fun of randomized results due to stats and dice rolls, so things go in different directions than they would just writing or role playing without a ttrpg structure.
For clarification, I’ve been running 5e for the better part of a decade now (plus forays into other systems), and my campaigns are very story and character heavy… and I am lenient about rules, but that doesn’t mean they’re not there. Depending on the campaign, the players, and the length/frequency of play, sometimes myself and my players feel it’s best to sand down some edges and play a little softball for the sake of time, flow, and fun. And sometimes people come up with super creative and cool ways to use skills or spells or mechanics that are unconventional, and for the sake of everyone having a good time, it’s a fun to bend the rules a bit just to get the pop from the group and make the gang happy.
There’s no ignoring the rules en masse in my case, I’m still running D&D. Sometimes it’s just allowing things to ride for the drama/cool of it in a scene, or just deciding campaign x doesn’t require mechanic y. It’s all in fun, and so long as my players have a good time and we tell a good story, that’s what matters at my table. I do require people to read the PHB, but not everything applies to every campaign, so I provide abridged reading or clarify what I want people to absorb and what to leave.
Am I gonna be running any professional games? Nah. Am I the best DM? Nope. Do I feel my way to play is superior? No! But I don’t think it’s inferior either because the value is in how much everyone enjoys playing together. Just play with whoever suits your style and vibe and have fun. It’s a game, it’s not that serious.
I think an important part of the "D&D is easy to learn" argument is that a lot of those people don't actually know how to play D&D. They know they need to roll a d20 and add some numbers and sometimes they need to roll another type of die for damage. A part of it is the culture of basically fucking around and letting the GM sort it out. Players don't actually feel the need to learn the rules.
Now I don't think the above actually counts as knowing the rules. D&D is a relatively crunchy game that actually rewards system mastery and actually learning how to play D&D well, as in to make mechanically informed tactical decisions and utilizing the mechanics to your advantage, is actually a skill that needs to be learned and cultivated. None of that is to say that you need to be a perfectly tuned CharOp machine to know how to play D&D. But to actually start to make the sorts of decisions D&D as a game rewards you kind of need to know the rules.
And like, a lot of people don't seem to know the rules. They know how to play D&D in the most abstract sense of knowing that they need to say things and sometimes the person scowling at them from behind the screen will ask them to roll a die. But that's hardly engaging with the mechanics of the game, like the actual game part.
And to paraphrase @prokopetz this also contributes to the impression that other games are hard to learn: because a lot of other games don't have the same culture of play of D&D so like instead of letting new players coast by with a shallow understanding of the rules and letting the GM do all the work, they ask players to start making mechanically informed decisions right away. Sure, it can suck for onboarding, but learning from your mistakes can often be a great way to learn.
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monamipencil · 2 days ago
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when strawberries bloom (teaser)
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“When the strawberries bloom, I'll be by your side.”
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premise. mingyu is content with his life in the capitol as a victor, although he's haunted by the images of the nightmare he lived ten years ago. but all that comes to an abrupt stop, when he discovers that you—his greatest demise had been alive all this time.
content. hunger games! au, victor! mingyu, f! reader, pseudo major character death, hints of trauma, mingyu is a blink away from alcohol poisoning, capitol shenanigans, mentions of og hunger games characters, this is set in the period of second rebellion, slow burn, jealousy, both of them are in denial, fight scenes, friends to lovers (?) to strangers to enemies (it's one sided) to ???, angst, fluff, crack, smut. heavy fruit metaphor, yearning, pining, happy ending.
warnings. will be added in the fic post.
word count. tba.
release date. around december end.
author’s note. this is a part of the ‘catching fire’ collab hosted by @vitaminkyeom. i'm very excited to write this and share with you guys. though i'm barely done with fic, i thought i'd put out as a teaser to fuel me to finish it. and pls feel free to come to my inbox and scream abt this fic <33 send an ask to be added to the taglist !
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Mingyu controls a deep sigh as yet another woman presses herself against him in the name of dancing. He fakes his gaze, pretending to be enamoured. The strong perfume she’d used makes his head throb, and irritate his nostrils. 
The woman whispers sultrily, “I can’t believe I got you all to myself tonight.”
She flutters her eyelashes at him, her hands playing with the tie of his masquerade mask. It only covers the lower half of his face—a skillfully sculpted skull mask, lined with golden chains. He avoids looking at her, eyes darting all over the room to find something to fixate on. 
His lack of attention doesn’t seem to faze the woman as she only steps in closer. He bites his tongue and focuses on the details of the mansion. Gold painting lines the ivory walls that are basked in the dim lights of the party now. Grand, maroon curtains hangs by the arched windows, slightly swaying as the wind flows in. 
Awe turns into confusion which is replaced by disappointment when his eyes land on a glowing liquor fountain. But if he’s really honest, he’s a bit intrigued and his tongue feels dry, aching for the bitter taste of alcohol on it. 
Another shift of his eyes lands on a familiar lady, adorned in a black gown and dancing with an old man. He recognizes you as the lady from the balcony though your face is now obscured with a masquerade mask. Relief floods through his system, if he had to catch another glance at your face, his heart would stop beating once and for all. 
But as Mingyu had discovered long ago, things never really go the way he wishes them to. You turn your head, catching his gaze. Heat floods his cheeks and all the oxygen trickles out his lungs. He sucks in a sharp breath as you maintain eye contact. He doesn’t realise that he had stopped dancing till the woman whines. The sound prickles his skin, sending a shot of annoyance through him. 
All the voices around Mingyu drown out, turning into a mere buzz. A vine wraps around his heart, its thorns puncturing the gentle muscle. He watches as you shift your attention. Your beautiful lips curving into a smile, reacting to whatever the man had said. Your body leaning towards the old gamemaker, drawing attention to your cleavage. Rage courses through his veins along with another feeling. Jealousy. 
The feeling is foreign to him and he can’t even deduce why he’s jealous. Or, he knows why he’s jealous but even that mere idea seems incredulous. Still envy coils in his gut, rattling its tail at him and mocking him. Your eyes land on him again, and his heart skips a beat. 
Just then, the song switches, carrying a seductive note. Soon, the woman is whisked away and not even a second later, you end up in his arms. His hands skate down your silk gown to the small of your back and he pulls you flush against him. The proximity makes your breath hitch and you place your arm on his shoulders, swaying to the notes. Your breaths mingle together, body heat diffusing into one.
Maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe you look too much like her, but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. With a sudden craving of intimacy, he holds you tight against him and the other intertwines with your left hand as you both sway to the flowing music. 
Any rational thought is chucked out his mind. The more he looks into your eyes, the more you look like her. In contrast to his prior wish, he wants your mask gone now. It obscures most of your face, cutting off near your right cheekbone to expose your right eye. 
He brushes stray hair aside. His soft, manicured nail beds caress the exposed skin off your face. You tighten your hold on him, doe eyes staring up at him with something he can’t pinpoint. His heartbeat quickens, a strange nostalgia permeates the air. Mingyu swears that this has happened before, a sense of deja vu fills his veins. 
Before he could comprehend his own actions, he undoes your mask. The sultry note tunes out into nothingness and the world seems to have stopped spinning. The mask hits the ground with a clank that gets muffled in the shock of the revelation. 
And there stands Kim Mingyu with his long lost lover and best friend who’s supposedly dead. 
You mirror his expression, horror staining your face as you shuffle to retrieve your mask. All while he stands still, going over the millions of possibilities. Why and how are you alive? Or is this a sick joke that someone is trying to play on him? 
You try to slip away from him, but he catches your hand, stopping you in your tracks. His grip tightens when you try to pull your hand away. His fingers brush over a bump on your skin, drawing attention to it. His eyes land on a scar that runs from the palm of your left hand to your wrist. 
Just then, you free yourself from his grip and escape into the bustling crowd of the party, leaving him alone. Though the mansion is filled with hundreds of citizens, an impermeable bubble seems to surround him—as if no one had witnessed what had occurred. It makes Mingyu question whether you’re real or if he made you up, like a mad man. 
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f0ofishies · 3 days ago
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Don't look back
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Being apart of the itoshi family, others might seem you've got lucky being blessed by two superstars of footballers. Now you're not as good as them, but you did used to have the same passion as them. You remembered when you were little— straining your ankle crying like a baby. You remembered vividly on how Sae's arms held you up as Rin was already running up to your parents. "Mama..! she's hurt..!"
"Rin, that hurts..!" Your little whined echoed through out your own bedroom. He was tending to your foot, with some cream to soothe your injured ankle. "But its supposed to be—" Sae couldn't help but sigh, "Let me do it." His voice caught the both of you off guard. "I thought you had school?" Your voice interrupting the silence.
"I skipped." Both you and Rin had widened eyes. "No fair!" Rin taunted as you agreed with him. "Yeah, no fair..!" It wasn't until you both stopped complaining that Sae had bribed you both to play on his Nintendo DS. So the whole day, the three of you were just sucked into the game— both claiming it'll help with the recovery of a sprained ankle... it really wasn't.
Now that was a distant memory, another one you also remembered was when you were waiting for your family in the airport. Before Sae could even board the plane to go to spain— you've unexpectedly ran towards him.. puffed up cheeks, tears streaming down. You crashed into his chest as you sobbed. "Don't leave—!"
A plea came out of your mouth as Sae couldn't help but hug you as tightly as you did to him. Even Rin joined in on the hug, his arms wrapped around the both of you. "I'll come back.." You whined once more, burying your face into his shirt soaking the fabric. "You gotta promise—" You remembered the silly little pinky promise he did to you before he left.
Watching Sae come home from Spain— broke your heart. "Sae..?" You called out to him, he looked cold and that scared the teenager you. "What do you want?" You froze in your place, "Rin is still out late.. can you fetch him?" Your voice low as you watched your oldest brother leave. And that was when Rin came back home, but Sae didn't. "Rin where's—" "I don't want to talk, sis."
It was even worse when Rin got accepted to bluelock. You huffed going out to see Rin practicing near your house, "Rin..! You haven't eaten!" You watched as he ignored your pleas— he was kicking the many footballs aligned to the goals.
"It's getting late, come back inside, please!" One thing led to another, and that was when Rin kicked the ball to your direction as you narrowly dodged it. "What the hell, Rin—"
"Shut up! I don't need your concerns. And I dont need a little sister."
That statement broke you, you've just locked yourself in your own bedroom. Both parents didn't know how to handle the both of you, so when Rin left— their little ray of sunshine daughter was gone. Highschool started, you couldn't balance them at all. Grades failing faster than you could even count the number of days that passed.
You've had it— you couldn't care less what happened to your brothers. The news displaying their names, your parents joyous for their sons while you shut off the news rolling your own eyes. You were going to change, and that was when you saw a college worth going, it even had its own foundation. And now we're back at the present, of where your true life started.
You've fallen in love, made friends, got broken up with, and even moved to another country far from Japan without the support of your own brothers. Rin and Sae weren't on your mind anymore, nor did you even care on checking up on them. It wasn't until someone had said two young men were looking for her.
Opening the dormitory door to see both Rin and Sae, covered in their big puffy jackets. You froze, looking up at them. Before one of them could speak, "Don't." They both were here— why? Did your parents tell them? You wanted to slam the door in front of their faces. "We were worried... how come you didn't ask us to go to your high school graduation?"
You scoffed, "I never had one—" They both froze now, but Rin came forward. "How?" You bit your lip, "I went into foundation before I could graduate, but of course, how could you know? Football was more important." Sae sighed. "You know that's not—" "But it is the truth..! Or are you blind?" Your words echoed in the hallways. Both Itoshi brothers froze at the harsh words.
"You know Blue lock changed my career.." Rin whispered, approaching you, you backed away. "Yeah, and completely wrecked our connection as siblings." Sae interrupted, "And I was busy with the—" "Don't even talk, you have no right.. when you left out of nowhere!" Your voice echoed, it mightve made people heard the commotion going in the dormitory.
"What I want both of you is to leave and never come back because I'm not your little sister anymore." They both looked shocked— how could you say that to them? "But you are our.." You had to push Sae away from you, it was clear they didn't thought things through. They just wanted to see you, their little sister on where she's been.. even going as far to approach her.
"No, she died when you both left and never looked back. Now leave."
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sammakesart · 12 hours ago
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Castles in the Fade, or What Was the Point of the Veil Anyway
Something that will now haunt me until the end of time is why was the concept of the Veil ever introduced into this series.
We’ve been hearing about it since the very first game. There’s a codex entry about tears in the Veil in Origins. Tamlen mentions a thin spot in the Veil if you play a Dalish elf. Sandal has a prophecy in Dragon Age 2: “One day the magic will come back—all of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part and the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see.” Admittedly, this is just one line said by a character who often says odd things, but it hinted to the fact they were planning to do something with the Veil from the very beginning. The state of the Veil is repeatedly brought up. It all had to mean something! Or so I thought. 
When I saw “The Dread Wolf Rises” quest in Veilguard, I said, “Oh, here we go!” The Veil is coming down, magic is coming back, and it’s going to set up such an interesting story for the next game. 
Alas, no. 
I hadn’t really enjoyed my time playing Veilguard up until this point. It felt like the game was ducking and dodging every bit of world building and lore that could possibly bring nuance or complexity to the story. Every returning character or faction was a cardboard cutout of themself. They shoved Solas is a time-out box and gave him nothing to do. They refused to let him have any impact or influence on the story when he had been set up to be our main antagonist back in Trespasser. This game used to be called Dreadwolf! And while we learn about his past… we never talk to him about it. In the present, he’s in stasis.
Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain are our villains. And they are your typical evil for evil’s sake villains. They are mad, bad, and only as dangerous as the narrative will allow as to not give Rook and co too much trouble. They are surprisingly patient while Rook fixes all their companions’ problems… until Elgar’nan moves the moon to cause an eclipse. A vital component in making his own lyrium dagger. For some reason. This guy can move a satellite!? And he just let Rook walk away in previous encounters… twice. Ok. Sure.
The Evil Duo need their own dagger ostensibly to tear down the Veil, because they want to unleash the full force of the Blight onto the world. Because they are evil. And they were thwarted last time they tried to Blight the entire world. Why do they think Blighting the world is a good idea? What’s the point of ruling a world if everyone is dead? I guess they haven’t thought that through, because of the madness and the evilness.
Ok, I thought. Perhaps the gods will be the one to tear down the Veil. Or maybe we’ll have a choice to let Solas do it his way before they can, which will be less chaotic and less full of Blight. Because the Veil has to be coming down one way or another? Why introduce the concept of the Veil, especially a Veil that has been thinning and failing since the series began, if it’s just going to… stay.
There is a principle in storytelling called Chekov’s gun. If something is mentioned in a story, it must have a purpose. If you keeping mentioning that gun hanging on the wall over the fireplace, it’s because at some point in the story, someone is going to take it down and use it. The Veil felt like Chekov’s gun to me. Chekov’s Veil, if you will. It’s been here from the beginning of our tale, the spectre hanging over our protagonists’ heads for multiple games.
The Veil has been a character unto itself. It was the central focus of the third game, and its dissolution was set up to be the core conflict of the fourth game. We learn everything we thought we knew about the Veil was a lie. It was not created by the Maker to separate the Fade from this world because of jealous spirits, it was created by a guy named Solas to trap the elven gods and the Blight from destroying the world. Also, the elven gods were never gods, and they are also evil.
This reveal will surely throw the Andrastian religion into chaos! This puts the very existence of the Maker into question! The Evanuris are a lie; it’s only fair Catholicism—oh, I mean—the Chantry is a lie too. We briefly touch on that in Veilguard… then it is quietly discarded. Religious crisis averted.
But I digress.
When the title of the fourth game was changed from Dreadwolf to Veilguard, I started to see the writing on the wall. Still, I held out hope the Veil would have some greater purpose in the story. That its introduction as a concept was for a reason. That something in this world would change.
Instead, from the get-go, the question of the Veil is no question at all. We only get Solas and Varric making oblique or catastrophizing statements about it. Solas says little beyond he has a plan. If I ever wanted to hear a villain monologue about their plan, it was now! Varric, on the other hand, decries Solas’s plan. He warns that should the Veil fall, it will destroy the world and drown it in demons. And that’s that.
We never really learn why Solas wants to tear the Veil down, or why he thinks it will help anyone. “The Veil is a wound inflicted upon this world. It must be healed,” he says. And that’s basically all he says about it in Veilguard. In Inquisition and Trespasser, we learn it took the immortality from the elves. It cut most of magic off from the world. Spirits are trapped and are being corrupted into demons, and most of what we know about spirits and demons is wrong. There are ancient elves possibly asleep? That part is left vague, but ancient elves are still about. We meet some in Mythal’s temple. There seems to have been some merit in bringing it down, because elves were flocking to Solas’s cause at the end of Trespasser. He had agents working for him already. What do they know that we don’t know?
Apparently nothing, because by the time Veilguard rolls around, there are no mention of agents. He is working alone. His only motivation now seems to be he’s too deep in his sunk-cost fallacy. The Veil is unnatural, so it must be removed—consequences be damned. We are never given any reason to think Solas has a leg to stand on in his pursuit of tearing down the Veil. We never hear any kind of counter argument from anyone, not even Solas, as to why the Veil should come down. We are only told it will destroy the world. It will drown the world in demons. This is all Solas’s fault.
There is no nuance. No complexity. No moral quandary to mull over. The game gives us vague warnings with no explanation as to what exactly is so world-annihilating about the Veil coming down. We must take Varric’s word at face value. We’re the heroes; Solas is the villain. Stop him.
It makes me wonder why Solas was ever a companion in Inquisition, let alone a romance option. Solas was presented to us as a complicated character in Inquisition. We had the potential throughout the game to make him see the value of this world, to help him realize he was wrong about it. “We aren’t even people to you,” the Inquisitor says in Trespasser. Solas replies, “Not at first. You showed me that I was wrong...again.” He began the third game viewing the world as tranquil, seeing the people in it as nothing more than figments in a nightmare, just as we saw our companions in the In Hushed Whispers quest. He ends the game having made friends, having recognized he was mistaken. He might have even fallen in love. (Or he may still seen no merit in this world if the Inquisitor antagonized him the entirety of their time together.) But something makes him continue with his plan to tear down the Veil, despite recognizing this world is real. He must know something we don’t. Something we’ll learn about in the next game.
We’ve been hearing about the Veil for three games now. We’ve set up our complex antivillain for the next installment, and he’s going to tear the Veil down. We swear to stop him or save him. But it has to be more complex than that. It can’t be so straightforward. Uncomplicated. Simple. Boring. Right? Right?
Nope. He really is just the villain, mustache-twirling and all. He apparently had no greater motivation, no as of yet unrevealed knowledge that would put this whole Veil thing into a new context. It was really as simple as the Veil falling will destroy the world, so Solas must be stopped. There is no new information that is revealed which makes us question what we are doing. Solas is never given any nuance or complexity to his actions. Nuance and complexity have actively been taken away. Both him and the Veil are looking like they are the worst things to be in a story: pointless. Why introduce the Veil if it’s just going to remain unchanged? Why introduce a character like Solas, bother humanizing him (for lack of a better term), giving us his backstory, setting him up as a cunning antagonist, only to make him look stupid, then put him on a shelf until the last ten minutes of your game?
Solas was the trickster archetype of this tale. He was our version of Loki from Norse mythology. What is the role of the trickster archetype? To challenge the status quo. To bring about events of extreme change, like say, the tearing down of a Veil that holds back all of magic. Loki is a huge contributing factor in Ragnarök. Through his manipulation, he causes the death of the beloved god, Baldr. This ushers in a long winter, which signifies the beginning of the end. Loki is imprisoned for this crime. When the final battle between gods and giants begins, the sun and moon are swallowed, plunging the earth into darkness. The earth shakes and Loki is freed to fight on the side of the giants. The world burns in raw chaos, falls beneath the sea, and is reborn. The world is remade, and a new realm of the gods and a new, better earth is formed.
It really felt like this was the setup they were going for. Solas causes the death of Mythal, and this is his catalyst for creating the Veil, which ushers in a world without magic. This could be seen as equivalent to the long winter. Solas falls asleep, trapped in dreams. He wakes and sets in motion bringing about the apocalypse. It’s not a perfect one to one, but it’s there if you squint. We have a war against the gods in Veilguard. I was expecting a few remaining Titans to wake and join the fight. But we don’t get any of that. There is a final battle, but it does not end in the end of the world. Or a better world. It just ends, and everything is the same.
It seems our trickster god caused his apocalypse thousands of years before our story started, when he created the Veil. His role in this tale was over before ours began, and he really is just some relic from a long-past age. He has no role, no purpose in this story. He is here to be thwarted. He is no Loki at all.
If you can’t tell, I wanted the Veil to come down. Did I think the Veil coming down would be painless? Have no negative consequences? No. Of course not. But keeping it up has negative consequences too. And it made for an interesting story. Or at least it could have. But we never explore that. The game presents no counter argument to having the Veil stay up, which, again, begs the question: what was the point of introducing the concept of the Veil at all?
Did I think the Veil coming down was actually the best solution to help Thedas become a better place? I don’t know, and I never will, because the game never argues for it one way or another. It just tells you to want it in place and to stop asking questions. In real life, a catastrophic event is not the best way to solve any of the world’s problems. But this is the realm of fiction. We have gods and monsters, magic and myth. We have introduced the status quo of Thedas, recognized it needs to change, then our trickster god appears ready to fulfill his role in the narrative. 
Instead, it all comes to nothing.
I got to the end of Veilguard… and everything was more or less the same as it was at the start of Origins. Veilguard actually tries its hardest to pretend any previously mentioned problems don’t exist, so of course the Veil coming down has no merit. There are no problems to solve in this world, apparently. Solas is just stuck in the past and can’t get with the times. Silly Solas.
The Veil isn’t even a permanent solution. It wasn’t to begin with. It was some duct tape wrapped around a broken pipe, and we’ve just slapped an extra piece of tape on it. It’s still leaking. It is still unnatural, and will fall eventually one way or another. Large amounts of bloodshed weaken it, so I guess Thedas better achieve world peace real quick to avoid any battles. There were seven super-powered mages holding it together… now there is just one. Ironically, the Veil was going to fall after two more Blights anyway. The Wardens were doing Solas’s work for him! It would also have released the full force of the Blight at that time… which Solas was trying to avoid, I presume.
It feels like keeping the Veil up just pushed a big problem onto Thedas’ future generations. We’ll keep slapping bandaids on it until it all falls apart. Someone else can deal with the fallout, but we’ll be dead by then, so who cares.
Primarily, I wanted the Veil to come down from a storytelling perspective. The Veil was an interesting concept and I wanted the story to do something interesting with it. Conflict is what makes stories stories and the Veil coming down could create so much compelling and complex conflict. And the Fade is weird, and I like weird. Stories are also about change, and I wanted to see Thedas change. Yet, Veilguard is over, and barely anything has changed. Instead of magic coming back being a conflict for the next game, they went with Fantasy Illuminati. Oh.
The Veil turned out to be a nothing-burger, and no problems in this world are even close to being solved. Slavery is still rampant in Tevinter. The elven people are still oppressed everywhere. Mages have no more rights in the South than they did in Origins. Spirits are still trapped and being corrupted. The Calling still exists, though might be different somehow now? They don’t really get into that. The Chantry’s validity is still not allowed to be questioned. The Blight still exists in some form, but again it’s vague. Oh, and we learn the dwarves have been gravely wronged, and the Titans are still tranquil. At least if you redeem Solas and a romanced Lavellan joins him, they can work together on healing the Blight and helping the Titans. Oh, good. One problem is being acknowledged and some action will be taken. Offscreen. Hurray? Solas doesn’t have a really great track record of fixing problems, so Lavellan is definitely going to need to be there to make sure he doesn’t fuck it up.
For some reason, this game seemed terrified of letting us think about anything for more than two seconds. It shied away from complexity or nuance at every turn. The game is called The Veilguard—ironically, that word is never uttered in the game—but we are given no real motive for guarding the Veil. We’re unquestionably the hero. The villains are uncomplicatedly evil. Save the world… never wonder what you are doing or why.
I wanted the game to make me question if the Veil staying up or coming down was the right choice. I needed to be given a real counter argument. Convince me the alternative would actually be better or worse, because as I mentioned… things suck quite a bit in Thedas already for a lot of people right now. Let the Veil’s fate be a difficult choice to make. If the conflict cannot be what to do about the Veil, it should be am I doing the right thing about the Veil. If the heart of your game is so thin on motive, everything else falls apart around it.
I hoped they were setting up a complex, Thedas-sized existential conflict for this game in Trespasser, but no. I wanted something to happen, but nothing did. 
I want to feel challenged and changed by a story, not left feeling empty. I’m tired of superficial entertainment. I want to sink my teeth into a narrative that doesn’t paint the world in broad strokes of black and white, good and evil, heroes and villains.
Ultimately, I think my issue is why even introduce a concept like The Veil if you’re not going to do anything interesting with it. Or anything at all. What I thought was Chekov’s Veil turned out to just be a MacGuffin. And that’s disappointing.
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