#instead of asking each other what they are doing

[undoing-daughters-blog]

I'm going to explain the theory that Jinx is not actually dead

(I know this is long, I promise it's worth it)

This starts in chapter 8 of season two.

We see Jinx in the prision, she's devastated, lost, defeated, and wants things to end. And we see the first interaction she has with the voice of Silco. In this interaction Silco tells Jinx that "killing is a cycle" and that it would continue. But Jinx says she's "done running in circles", meaning: she wants to stop this cycle. To which Silco says:

And later, when Vi goes to visit Jinx, and Jinx tricks Vi and escapes the prison. Vi then asks her what she will do, Jinx answers:

And now Jinx knows the way to break the cycle, is by leaving.

Next time we see Jinx is in episode 9. She is still in the same mood as before, and now she cuts most of her hair off and burns The Last Drop

Burning down The Last Drop and letting go of her hair shows this closure. Later, she tries to kill herself, which is her way of "walking away" to "break the cycle".

But then Ekko shows up, saves her, and they go to save Vi and the others together.

At this point, Jinx wants to stop the killing and wants to leave, but she will always want to save Vi ("I'm always with you. Even when we are worlds apart").

But she still wants to break the cycle. She still needs to let go.

So, as she saves Vi from Warwick with the monkey bomb explosion, she escapes and leaves Piltover.

And we get a hint of that in the final scenes of the show when Caitlyn is going through her mother's database. She finds a blueprint of the hexgate tower and finds secret air ducts in the place where the explosion happened.

We also see her holding a part of Jinx's bomb.

And after seeing the blueprint she has this look. Like she's thinking "is it possible she survived?"

And in the very last scene we see one of these things that is flying away from Piltover.

Which reminds me of Season 1 Episode 1:

She has always wanted to ride one of them.

Maybe, this is her new way of walking away, instead of dying.

And the two frames are almost exactly the same, it couldn't not be a reference to that s1 moment.

And I know this theory may sound dumb but, why would they show us Caitlyn looking at those blueprints then? Every scene, every frame in Arcane is carefully designed. The team is very good, they wouldn't just show it for no reason. It wouldn't make sense. Especially because they have only 9 episodes of 40 minutes each (except 9 which has 50) to develop everything that happens in season two. And there are A LOT of things going on, they don't have time to spare. If they chose to show us that, it had a very important meaning.

Also I think it's kinda bad If Jinx just dies, I wouldn't like that ending, at least not like this.

[hellenhighwater]

Following up on the “how do you do it all” ask I sent just now - I ALSO have ADHD, but only realized this recently, and I feel like thats what gets in my way. It doesn’t seem to get in your way as much, or at least not in the same way? I guess I’m asking if there are any tips/tricks/ideas you could share on how to make space for more creative projects

For a good chunk of stuff, it's weaponized rejection-sensitive dysphoria. Not in necessarily a detrimental way, but it counterbalances the executive dysfunction sometimes. I find external motivators to substitute for the internal executive functions that aren't firing. Sometimes I just give myself a theoretically-judgemental audience (in practice: these people are my friends and they would not actually judge me, but the theory of it is enough) that holds me accountable for the completion of a task or project. You're probably seen it at least once; I might post "okay I gotta clean my house, if I don't post updates you'll know I failed" and that is very literally me counterweighting the ADHD.

I recently did a pact with my mom that we would both help each other clean our garages (what I spent the last two weekends doing) because neither of us wanted to tackle that project alone. For pottery, I agreed with a friend that we would both do it together, so it's the obligation to her to keep showing up and working on things that keeps me engaged and enjoying things. Or the deadline pressure of ArtPrize, or the maintenance guy coming over who could possibly judge the state of my pantry, or the shelter relying on me to return healthy kittens, or whatever other little thing. Basically, sometimes, it's this

Which makes things sound...unpleasant? Honestly I don't generally find this to be a stressful system; this is the balanced machine of my brain. I decided a long time that I didn't want to medicate for my ADHD (for a lot of reasons, which I'm not getting into) so instead I find ways to work around and with it.

[joelliies]

Show, don’t tell

"Show, don’t tell" means letting readers experience a story through actions, senses, and dialogue instead of outright explaining things. Here are some practical tips to achieve that:

1. Use Sensory Details

Tell: "The room was cold."

Show: "Her breath puffed in faint clouds, and she shivered as frost clung to the edges of the window."

Tell: "He was scared."

Show: "His hands trembled, and his heart thudded so loudly he was sure they could hear it too."

2. Focus on Actions

Tell: "She was angry."

Show: "She slammed the mug onto the counter, coffee sloshing over the rim as her jaw clenched."

Tell: "He was exhausted."

Show: "He stumbled through the door, collapsing onto the couch without even bothering to remove his shoes."

3. Use Dialogue

What characters say and how they say it can reveal their emotions, intentions, or traits.

Tell: "She was worried about the storm."

Show: "Do you think it'll reach us?" she asked, her voice tight, her fingers twisting the hem of her shirt.

4. Show Internal Conflict Through Thoughts or Reactions

Tell: "He was jealous of his friend."

Show: "As his friend held up the trophy, he forced a smile, swallowing the bitter lump rising in his throat."

5. Describe the Environment to Reflect Mood

Use the setting to mirror or hint at emotions or themes.

Tell: "The town was eerie."

Show: "Empty streets stretched into the mist, and the only sound was the faint creak of a weathered sign swinging in the wind."

6. Let Readers Infer Through Context

Give enough clues for the reader to piece things together without spelling it out.

Tell: "The man was a thief."

Show: "He moved through the crowd, fingers brushing pockets, his hand darting away with a glint of gold."

7. Use Subtext in Interactions

What’s left unsaid can reveal as much as what’s spoken.

Tell: "They were uncomfortable around each other."

Show: "He avoided her eyes, pretending to study the painting on the wall. She smoothed her dress for the third time, her fingers fumbling with the hem."

8. Compare to Relatable Experiences

Use metaphors, similes, or comparisons to make an emotion or situation vivid.

Tell: "The mountain was huge."

Show: "The mountain loomed above them, its peak disappearing into the clouds, as if it pierced the heavens."

Practice Example:

Tell: "The village had been destroyed by the fire."

Show: "Charred beams jutted from the rubble like broken ribs, the acrid smell of ash lingering in the air. A child's shoe lay half-buried in the soot, its leather curled from the heat."

[cheer-nympho]

Steve had been conned into chaperoning the kids to a ren faire.

Admittedly with very little resistance, but he was keeping that to himself. Once there and with their bags packed away into some apparently theme appropriate tents he had shrugged on some medieval casual clothes and…immediately lost track of all of them,

But a figure he did spot was a long haired Jester entertaining a small entourage with juggling,

Steve finds himself laughing slightly condescendingly at the jingling man. Why do people find juggling so impressive?

He picked it up straight away with some hackey sacks while bored between practices. He’s just good with his hands.

When he looks back up to get another glance in however, the jester isn’t perched on top of his little rock anymore and the crowd has merged with the other dweebs.

Steve stares at the empty space for a moment before a jingle right by his ear spooks him into turning around.

“Art thou not impressed by my amazing skills, your lordship?” The jester asks, swaying on his feet and causing the bells all over him to ping, grin wide and mocking.

And up close Steve notices one very important, very dangerous thing.

This court jester is really fucking hot.

He looks like an idiot, a nerd, a dweeb. Its hard not to in a pointy hat. But he also wore it too well, looked too perfect like that.

Steve notices the…is that..? Yes, the corset wrapping tightly around the mans waist, red and black diamonds decorating the sides and leading to small puffy shorts. His legs are covered in tight black leggings which should look ridiculous. It should.

An obnoxious cough and head tilt-jingle make Steve aware that he has been staring at the mans waist for way longer than was ‘bro code permitted’

He looks up with a wince, expecting a look of disgust ranging from mild embarrassment to punch-your-lights-out.

He was, instead, greeted by a smug and knowing smile. The red and black triangles painted over the mans eyes warped where the grin reached them. “Or maybe thou art impressed, but skills are not what draw thine eyes.”

Shit. Fuck. The stupid hot nerd is using stupid nerd speak on him. And Steves stupid nerd, apparently ‘very accurate’ pants are getting tighter. He needs to say something. Anything.

“You’ve got…bells.” Okay, maybe not anything. He used to be better at this shit.

He is rewarded with a wild, joyous laugh as the jester throws his head from side to side. “I do! Isn’t it amazing?The staff insisted on it so they could hear me coming.”

“It certainly makes an impression-“

“Eddie, names Eddie. And what does my lordship go by?”

“Steve is fine.”

“That he is…” The comment was punctuated by a less than subtle glance, almost a leer. “However, Fine Steve seems unimpressed with my merrymaking. As the official court jester, I cannot let that stand.” He stamps his foot, causing another cacophony of jingles.” “Therefore…”

“…Pick a card any card!” A pack of standard cards was presented to him with a flourish, but all he could do was roll his eyes.

“Come on, really? This shit is basic. All I have to do it watch your hands. You’ll swipe my card out and put it back in later, or mark it somehow.”

“Ooo his highness has it all figured out doesn’t he. Well then, princess, you have nothing to lose by picking a card, do you?” And that was…true. Plus he could maybe try to fix his previous fumble and try to claw a number out of this disaster.

So with another bitchy roll of his eyes, Steve plucks a card from the deck and hides it behind his palm. Two of Hearts.

Then out of nowhere… “You know, Stevie, if you think I’m pretty you can just tell me. I know the kingdom would approve not of a noble like yourself marrying a commoner like me, but they need know little of how we…” He begins to reshuffle the cards, motioning for Steve to place his chosen one back in before making some very obvious, very crude movements with his fingers. “…get to know each other in the meantime.”

He was going to die. In the middle of a nerd fest.

“Well, my lord…” Eddie continues, circling him while dragging a finger across his arms and shoulder blades before coming to a stop in front of him. A very bold hand takes Steves jaw and forces his head up, pretending to inspect something on his costume for any bystanders.

“If you would like some more…close up demonstrations…” He leans in tightly, still holding Steve’s jaw in a tight grip. “You can pay me a visit in staff cabin 23 tonight.” He strokes a piece of hair gently behind Steve’s ear before pulling out a card, as if from said ear.

Steve was glad that Eddie took the initiative to carefully pull his hand up and place the card into his palm, because currently Steve was too preoccupied with staring like a fish out of water into Eddies eyes. Everything about him was just so captivating, so alive.

Maybe that’s why he did little more than step forward aimlessly, with small grabby hands when Eddie pulled away. Before Steve could even process it, the bells and jingles had mingled back into the crowd. But that was…that was okay. Cause he could go to the…cabin?

But how was he supposed to- Oh. He looks down. On the card was a loosely clipped room key with a ‘23’ crudely engraved into the edge as if by a pocket knife.

The card itself, to his horror, was the Two of Hearts.

Shit.

He forgot to watch the fucking hands.

[natalievoncatte]

“What if we don’t go back yet?”

It was a peculiar question that Lena asked, but a compelling one. She was currently lying with Kara, or rather *on* Kara, after the Kryptonian caught her once again. Kara had slipped under as she fell and cushioned the fall with her invulnerable body, and they currently lay in the wreckage of a sailboat along the docks, the ruined and smashed vessel bobbing gently in the ocean.

“What do you mean?”

“Alex and the crew can get the guy,” said Lena.

She was referring to the second-rate wannabe villain that had tossed Lena off the roof as a ploy to distract Supergirl and cover his escape. It had worked, of course, with Kara abandoning her manhunt to catch Lena. As she always did. That was apparently why he kidnapped her in the first place instead of, who knows, maybe robbing banks in a town without a superhero.

It didn’t seem to matter much now. Kara was warm and had wrapped them both up in her cape, and Lena’s head lay pillowed on her shoulder. Kara curled around her, breathing gently into the crown of her head.

“Why wouldn’t we go back?”

“I’m tired,” Lena murmured, giving the words more truth than she meant to. She was tired, so tired. She could sleep for a thousand years here, lying with Kara.

This always went the same way. Kara would bear her to safety like a knight in shining armor and set her down and then she’d step back.

The contact would end.

It’s not like they never touched- they hugged and kissed each other on the cheek even, and Lena secretly treasured that, but it wasn’t enough. It was different when Kara rescued her.

If physical touch was Kara’s love language, the way she held Lena after a rescue was a kind of Freudian slip. These embraces were more, just more in a profound, indescribable way.

She was always so tender, after. She would sweep the hair from Lena’s eyes and just touch her for the sake of it, running the pad of her thumb along Lena’s jawline or hugging her extra tight, extra close, fearful and yet utterly fearless.

Much as she was holding Lena now.

“I know,” Kara whispered.

She did know. If there was anyone truly in tune with her needs, it was Kara. Kara cared, so fully, so deeply, so recklessly that Lena could barely understand it, and scarcely believe it.

“I want to stay here with you.”

Kara tensed slightly, throat bobbing as she swallows and her breath caught.

“What I want more than anything is just time to be us,” Lena said, very softly. “You and me. No company, no DEO, no adventures, no crises. I could just lay with you here forever.”

Kara was quiet, gently working her fingers through Lena’s hair.

“I’ve thought about things like that.”

“What sort of things?”

She was quiet for too long a beat, then said, “just us being us, alone. No game night, no movie night, no brunch, no Noonan’s, just this. Just you and me and… and relaxing.”

“Cuddling, you mean.”

Kara shifted herself, gave Lena a little squeeze.

“I don’t want to go either. I don’t want to let go of you.”

Lena opened her eyes and looked at Kara, at her golden hair fanned out around her head and her questioning blue eyes.

“So don’t.”

Gently, carefully, Lena freed an arm and rested a palm against Kara’s cheek. Her skin was always so warm, so lusciously soft. Kara was watching her intently, eyes searching.

“I think it’s customary, after the brave her saves the girl, that the hero gets a kiss.”

Kara tensed, clearly nervous. It was the most adorable thing Lena had ever seen.

She kissed her.

Kara was stone still at first, barely responding, then something seemed to awaken in her and she kissed Lena back, intensely. Lena was a little shocked at the sudden way Kara almost seemed to lunge into her, how her hands suddenly moved and she took Lena by the hips.

It was amazing. Her heart fluttered and her head was swinging and she felt a cold shock-

“Kara! The boat is sinking!”

With the most annoyed sigh, Kara stood and lifted Lena into a bridal carry. Water was gurgling up around them.

“Alex is going to kill me,” said Kara.

“Alex can wait,” said Lena. “Take me home.”

[meshaamem-li]

yeah sure, because y'all never used the free tool that mimicks human dialogue because instead of talking to a Human Being or using google.

googling "how to do groceries" isn't going to give you any productive results, your parents aren't always gonna be available to baby you or they might have never been there for you, and yeah some people are not good at preplanning this shit when they also have a full time job and have to pay bills and take care of a million other stuff, asking chatGPT how to manage groceries is better than surviving on instant ramen and takeaway (like how boomers used to make fun of college-aged millennials)

sometimes you have no clue where to start searching for a topic, so you either make a post on social media asking complete strangers for guidance (hence the Reddit forums) then double check it to make sure you didn't get answers from an idiot, orrrr you use the Free Tool that might have some sort of information on it and then double check it to make sure it didn't hallucinate.

have trouble summarising shit? I used to have a friend who was better at writing than me while I understood the materials of the lesson better, so we covered each others' weaknesses whenever we studied together, I'd help them learn and they helped me summarise (not exactly, and we didn't study a lot together, but kinda). I may have failed creative writing but I did pass my physics exams.

use... a fucking calculator.... why do you need a language model to be a calculator.....

chatGPT is free and it's convenient especially if you don't have friends and if a search engine has trouble giving you results. is it still a fucking language model that's pushed everywhere and is a massive problem? yeah. should you avoid it? absolutely. but it's also inevitably helping all these people, as long as they don't over-rely on it and learn to develop their skills, its not harming anyone.

we dreamt for years about personal assistants and intelligent robots. Siri was always meant to be AI powered eventually, all of these futuristic movies where they ask the computer to do something and it answers like a person is AI, this is the direction people wanted to go towards for DECADES, and now you're surprised it helps people with little things that they probably could've done on their own? it's its entire point of existing!

the problem with chatGPT is that it's used to replace people in the ART FIELDS where HUMAN CREATIVITY is key, used to replace HUMAN CONNECTION with apps like character.ai when it CAN'T ACTUALLY FEEL, and that it's being presented as a DATABASE that knows FACTS when it DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO ANSWER "I don't know" or provide proper sources for what it "knows". that and the fact it was illegally trained on data that - while public - was still owned by hundreds of thousands of people.

[nvtstvrns]

it won’t hurt - Chris Sturniolo

Bsf!chris, fem!reader, smut

In which: you get in a fight with Chris and you both go your separate ways, until he comes knocking on your door begging to let him inside.

Contains: smut, unprotected p in v, best friends, make up sex, no established relationship, pet names (ma, pretty girl, sweetheart, etc)

Authors note: I’m bored and idk where this idea came from. Enjoy! Divider creds @enchanthings and @xurengu0

It was almost 10pm and I hadn’t gotten a single message from Chris after our argument earlier, no messages in general. I decided to finally let it go and just get in the shower. I was sore from practice and I wanted to relax my muscles, that’s when I heard my phone ring. I was just unbuttoning my pants. I pick up my phone. It was Chris.

I roll my eyes but I end up answering it. “What?” I say when I answer the phone.

“Damn. Couldn’t be nicer.” He says. “Can you let me in please?” He asks. I furrow my eyebrows. What does he mean let him in.

“Chris what do you mean? Are you seriously at the front door right now?” I ask buttoning my pants back up and turning off the shower. It was raining really hard out and he was probably soaked because he definitely did not drive here.

“Yeah I am. I felt bad for fighting with you earlier and I wanted to apologize.” He says. My eyes light up. I knew he felt bad for the fight earlier.

“Oh. Ok I’m coming.” I say opening the bathroom door and walking down the steps to the front door. He was standing there completely soaked from the rain. I look him up and down.

“Hey…come inside.” I say opening the door fully so he can come inside. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. I was being a selfish bitch and you had every right to call me that.” I say sitting on a nearby chair.

“no, I’m sorry for calling you that, you aren’t a selfish bitch I said that in the heat of the moment.” He claims.

After we apologize to each other he tries sitting down but I don’t let him.

“I think you might have some clothes left from the last time you were over here, I can get those for you.” I note before I walk upstairs and get the clothes for him. When I come back down he’s walking around and looking for food in the fridge. I hand him the clothes.

“Is there any way I could take a shower? I don’t like the feeling of the rain.” He says tugging on his clothes.

“Yeah, I was just about to take one but you can take one instead.” I say walking up the stairs with him following behind me. “Oh, y/n you can join me if you want.” He says shrugging as we reach the bathroom. My face turns red and I turn to face him.

“Uh, no it’s okay, you can shower by yourself Chris.” I giggle. He starts taking off his pants.

“Come on, it’s fine, we’re best friends anyway, we used to take baths together.” He says pulling his hoodie over his head.

“Yeah, Chris when we were fucking eight, not as adults.” I say sitting on the counter. Before he takes off his underwear he gets in the shower, throwing them over the top of the curtain rod.

“Oh come on, I’ll keep my hands and eyes to myself, it won’t hurt.” He says peeking out of the shower curtain. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”

“Chris fine I’m getting in.” I mutter pulling off my clothes. “This is weird.”

I step inside the shower and he immediately breaks his word. His eyes are on me immediately. I cover myself up self consciously. He grabs my arms and puts them down. “Sweetheart, don’t cover yourself you’re fucking beautiful.” He says staring into my eyes.

I burst into laughter. “Okay Chris, I’m beautiful.” I say through my laughs.

“I’m being serious pretty girl….” He says softly, his left hand trailing up my side slowly. I look down at his hand and then back up at him. “Chris…you broke your word, you didn’t keep your eyes or hands to yourself.” I note feeling my legs start to go numb.

Before I know it my mouth is gravitating towards his and we’re kissing in the shower. Kissing my best friend in the shower.

My hands attach to his shoulders and I jump up wrapping my legs around his waist. He pushes me against the wall and leaves sloppy kisses all over my chest face and neck. “God you’re perfect ma.”

Soon enough we’re out of the shower and in my bed his body hovering over mine as he kisses me deeply. His hands roam my whole body leaving me feel like I’m on fire. I’m ready for him. More than ready for him.

“Chris…Chris I want you…please I want you.” I say quietly, rolling my hips under him.

“Mmm you want me real bad ma?” He says his hand reaching in between our bodies as he rubs my clit.

“Oh my god, Chris, please…more.” I say. He finally complies and he pushes into me slowly. I bite my lip and furrow my eyebrows together.

The deeper he goes the more vocal I am. His tip brushes against my cervix just right and his hand stimulates my clit. He has too much experience on how to make a girl feel good. My legs start shaking and I lift my torso up hugging him tightly.

“God ma, you’re clenchin’ around me so perfectly, you’re so perfect baby.” He says as I feel the knot in my stomach get tighter and tighter. When it finally releases I arch my back and he holds me tight against him as my body trembles.

“Shh I gotcha ma.” He says as I whimper into his shoulder from the intense orgasm.

When I finally come down he’s laying next to me with his arm draped over my waist. “You really are perfect pretty girl.” He says quietly. All I could think about in the moment was how I just fucked my best friend.

“You really think I’m perfect?” I ask quietly turning to face him.

“Look at you! You’re perfect, your body, your face, your personality…I just can’t get enough of you…I’ve wanted to do this with you for years.”

My eyes go wide and I smile a little bit. “You know I’ve liked you for a long time Chris…and tonight was perfect…”

I don’t really like this one, but hopefully you do ��‍♀️

[mapiforpresident]

Looks Can be Deceiving

mapi x reader

Since the very first time you saw Mapi’s neck tattoo up close after you joined the team, you were utterly transfixed. You’d always admired it from afar—the letters stretching across her throat, “Looks Can Be Deceiving.” It suited her perfectly and it looked incredibly sexy.

~~~

One evening, the two of you were curled up on the couch watching a movie. Mapi was half-draped over you, her arm slung across your stomach and her head resting on your shoulder. As the plot dragged on, you couldn’t help but let your hand wander.

You started at her shoulder, your fingers idly tracing patterns across her skin. Slowly, you made your way to her neck, brushing over the inked words with featherlight touches.

Mapi hummed, tilting her head to give you better access. “You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Doing what?” you asked innocently, though your grin gave you away.

She lifted her head to look at you, her eyes dark with affection and mischief. “You’re obsessed.”

“Can you blame me?” you countered, leaning in to press a slow, deliberate kiss to the middle of the tattoo. “It’s sexy.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t shy away. Instead, she leaned closer, her lips brushing against your ear. “You’re trouble.”

“And you love it,” you whispered back, your lips ghosting over her neck once more.

~~~

During training, it became a running joke among your teammates.

“Your staring at your girlfriend's tattoo again,” Patri teased one day as you passed by, her grin wicked.

“Don’t act like you haven’t noticed,” Pina chimed in, laughing. “They’re always all over each other.”

You rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, you pulled Mapi closer, draping her arm over her shoulder and smirking. “Jealous, Pina?”

“Not even a little,” Pina shot back, though her grin betrayed her amusement.

You laughed, giving Mapi’s side a playful nudge. “Maybe we should tone it down.”

Mapi shrugged, unbothered. “Why? Let them talk.”

~~~

One particularly warm day after practice, you were sitting on the sidelines, chatting with Mapi while everyone else cooled down. She’d pulled her jersey off, leaving her in a sports bra that showed off her tattoos.

You couldn’t help yourself.

Reaching out, you traced the words on her neck with your fingertip, slowly and deliberately. Mapi’s lips quirked into a knowing smile, but her eyes fluttered shut at your touch.

“Careful,” she murmured.

“Why?” you asked, leaning closer until your lips brushed the edge of the tattoo. “Am I distracting you?”

Mapi chuckled low in her throat. “You always do.”

Your reply was cut off by a loud wolf whistle. Turning, you saw Mapi’s teammates watching from the field, their expressions a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“Get a room!” Alexia called out, grinning.

You laughed, leaning back and raising your hands in mock surrender. Mapi, however, wasn’t fazed.

“Maybe I will,” she shot back, earning a round of laughter from the team.

~~~

That evening, back at home, you were sprawled on the bed, scrolling through your phone when Mapi walked in. She was freshly showered, her damp hair curling around her face, and her skin still glowing from the heat.

She stopped at the foot of the bed, one hand on her hip. “You know, you’ve got me self-conscious about my neck now.”

You raised an eyebrow, sitting up. “Self-conscious? Why?”

“Because you can’t seem to keep your hands—or your mouth—off it,” she said, though her smirk betrayed her amusement.

You set your phone aside, crawling toward her until you were on your knees at the edge of the bed. Reaching out, you cupped her face and pulled her closer.

“Let me make it worse, then,” you murmured before pressing your lips to the tattoo, soft and lingering.

Mapi sighed, her hands resting on your waist as she melted into the kiss. When you pulled back, she looked at you with that mix of affection and intense hunger that always made your heart race.

“Looks can be deceiving,” you said, tracing the words with your fingertip. “But you? You’re exactly what I see—strong, beautiful, and irresistible.”

Her cheeks turned pink, and she shook her head with a laugh. “You’re too smooth for your own good.”

“Maybe,” you admitted, dragging your finger over the tattoo before pulling her onto the bed with you. “But it works, doesn’t it?”

Mapi’s only response was to kiss you, rough and needy, her fingers threading through your hair as you fell into each other.

Mapi deepened the kiss, her hands sliding from your hair to your waist, pulling you flush against her. The heat between you was tangible, and her lips carried an urgency that sent shivers down your spine. When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breathing uneven.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” she murmured, her voice low and husky.

You grinned, brushing your fingers over her tattoo again. “Says the woman with a warning label on her neck.”

Mapi let out a soft laugh, tilting her head to kiss the corner of your mouth. “It’s not a warning. It’s a challenge. And you, amor, are the only one who’s ever accepted it so perfectly.”

Your heart swelled at her words, and you kissed her again, this time slower, savoring the moment. You let your hands wander over her shoulders, down her arms, and back up to cradle her face.

“You make it easy to love every part of you,” you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. “Especially this.” Your fingers traced the ink once more, reverently, before you leaned in and pressed another kiss to the words.

Mapi’s cheeks flushed deeper, but she didn’t look away. Her blue eyes locked with yours, and there was a tenderness in her gaze that made your chest ache in the best way.

You definitely left a mark (or two) on her neck that night.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Kieran, under a cut for length:

"CHARACTERS - DAY TWO: Kieran (Technically this is an addendum to yesterday, but I make the rules here so nyah!) Heading into DAI, I had a bite-sized problem on my hands. I knew Morrigan would feature. I also knew we were importing previous choices. So now I had to contend with: the Old God Baby. Here's the thing about honouring previous game choices, from a design perspective: it's a sucker's game. What many fans picture, when you mention it, is divergent *plot* -- the story changes path based on those major choices. How exciting! But you will never be able to deliver divergent plot. You can deliver flavour differences (usually in the form of divergent dialogue), character swaps (character X appears instead of Y), and extra content (such as a side quest) -- but plot branching, particularly the critical path? It's a question of resources, and there's never enough to go around. "Here Lies the Abyss" in DAI was about as good as it gets, and even that was a far cry from how I originally pictured it (hello last-minute insert of Stroud when a DAO Warden import got cut). The Old God Baby was one of the main choices from DAO -- Morrigan has a baby? With the Archdemon's soul?! Most DAO players who flagged that choice surely expected *monumental* consequences. World-shaking consequences! And we talked about it. We did. There were, like, three different designs of the DAI ending where OGB Kieran could cause complete divergence: new path, cutscenes, the whole nine yards. But it wasn't going to happen. It was a decision from *two games ago* that only a small minority (hello telemetry) would even choose. To the rest, they probably neither knew about it nor cared... so how many resources could you invest? To do what? Set up an even bigger divergence for the NEXT game? The other writers acknowledged my anxiety with a grim nod every time it came up, but they had no solutions. Finally, I realized there WAS a solution, and that was changing how I thought about the choice: don't make it about Kieran. The players don't know him, never have. Make it about Morrigan. Thus began a feverish three days where I wrote probably the most complicated scene of my career: Morrigan's reckoning with Flemeth in DAI and the fallout after. Three different versions (OGB Kieran, non-OGB Kieran, and no Kieran), each with branching for other choices (like the Well of Sorrows). I did it all at once. There was no other way to wrap my head around the complexity of it. It was also a tough sell to the team, considering the amount of cinematics work, but they agreed we had to do *something*. And still it felt... underwhelming, insofar as divergence goes. But it was also good. I remember when I first spoke with Claudia, about how this was Morrigan's story. This was about how motherhood had changed her, how she'd grown up. Claudia got a bit teary-eyed. It was a journey she was familiar with, she said. Her first son, Odin, had been born in 2005 not long after DAO came out. And, man, she killed with that performance! Kate, too, but I'll get to her later. Claudia dug down, and that scene where Morrigan tells Flemeth she'll never be the mother Flemeth was to her? That came from someplace very raw. It was devastating to witness in the booth. There were tears all around. Not long after, Claudia called and asked if maybe - just maybe - Odin could play Kieran? He was a bit young (not yet 5, then), but it felt... right? We agreed. Claudia was in the booth, gently coaching him through his lines, and I think that was the first moment I felt I'd done the right thing."

[source thread]

User: "Do you find it an odd choice that Kieran hasn’t been mentioned at all in Veilguard?" David Gaider: "If there’s less reactivity in DATV, I’m unsurprised. Continuing choice from up to 3 games earlier is… unsupportable. Yet DA established the expectation they would so… damned if you do, damned if you don’t?" [source]

User: "EA is one of the biggest game companies ever. I don't think more complex diverging plots are impossible." David Gaider: "Well, if only more writing was all it took. Sadly, it's also cinematics. Art time for all those reappearing characters you probably want to look *just* right. And let's not forget we have to test all those permutations! So I don't disagree with you in spirit, but I don't think it's the answer here." [source]

User: "is there a possibility of future kieran appearances in a book or something similar outside of the games?" David Gaider: "I'd have no way of knowing that." [source]

User: "I’m actually shocked so little people chose the dark ritual. That was basically the main reason Flemeth sent Morrigan with the wardens, no?" David Gaider: "The impression you get of what "most" players do - in almost any game, not just DA - is very different if you're online a lot. Consider here that it's not just the % of DAO players who chose the Dark Ritual, it's the % of DAI players WHO PLAYED DAO and cared to import that choice 5 years later." [source]

User: "Is there anything you wish you had done differently, in hindsight?" David Gaider: "Probably just to not ever do importing choices between games in the first place." [source]

User: "Kieran only existed in my DAI state b/c Morrigan as a mother really appealed to me. I wasn't expecting to be devastated by those scenes 😭 I guess when we complain about lack of consequences from prev choices in DAV we must also ask how MUCH are we willing to pay for those branches to exist?" David Gaider: "That's indeed it. Content directed towards reactivity would have to come from somewhere else. So essentially a shorter game overall for the sake of those hardcore fans who'd import - who would, I imagine, REALLY enjoy that... but it's a tough cost/benefit analysis to make." [source]

User: "mr gaider im gonna keep it real with you if i had to choose between my hof and hawke i would've simply passed away" David Gaider: "Right? That was the ENTIRE idea! I was very excited, and for a while it seemed possible." [source]

User: "This has been a very interesting read but I have to ask why they decided to use Stroud instead of the HoF" David Gaider: "1) Complexity of providing means for a player to build a Warden (which they did in DATV for the Inquisitor). Also spoiled the surprise. 2) We’d have needed to give the Warden a voice. Add these to the cost and it was deemed not worth it." [source]

User: "Genuine question, not a critique - but what made the OGB decision one that couldn't be handwaved as canon no matter what was or wasn't chosen? Leliana and Flemeth being around no matter what come to mind. Was OGB simultaneously too major and too minor of a decision?" David Gaider: "Flemeth and Leliana being alive were easily explainable, and we knew we were doing it even back then. Circumventing the Dark Ritual… that would be too cheap. We did talk about it, but it just felt too dishonest. Too high a price for what we’d get in return." [source]

David Gaider: "If I’d known the Well of Sorrows would only see reactivity in the confrontation with Flemeth, I’d probably have made a much bigger deal of it." [source]

David Gaider: "We could maybe have gotten past the need to "reconstruct" the Warden, much like the Inquisitor was reconstructed in DATV (so I understand), but the need to give the Warden a voice was the final nail. Too potentially disappointing for the very people who'd be excited about it, aside from the cost." [source]

[itsdawnforyou]

I do this with my cousins, they are small but already two of them can talk out of the three, and the 8 y/o one comes and gives hugs if asked because he geniunely likes them.

The other two are little princesses and I always ask before I shake their hand or ask for a hug or a kiss. One time one of them didnt want me to look at them so I asked "do you want me to go away? Ill do it if you want me to" and she nodded so I walked away. They are both shy since we dont live nearby and dont see each other as often, so its really nice to see it.

Sometimes they dont want a hug and will hide behind their mom so I ask for a handshake instead and if they say no aswell I say "okay" and move on like its a normal thing. Im hoping its helping a bit. I can see that they are using their yes and no more with each visit and everyone respects it (unless its misbehaving or something they are doing that will cause them harm then its something else, obviously).

Its really fascinating watching babies grow into little people. Like, I was holding you in my arms shushing you to sleep 4 months ago what do you mean youre already running around?!

Consent does not just apply to sex. It goes for anything. Whether that is hugs, or a pat on the shoulder, or even a handshake. 

People also do not need to disclose their trauma as validation for why they do not want to be touched. People are allowed to say “no” to any form of contact, whether they have trauma or not. 

Quit taking “please don’t touch me” as a personal attack on you. 

Respect people’s bodies. Respect their boundaries. Please. 

[ylangelegy]

After MAMA awards I'M VERY PROUD OF MY BOYS and seeing Woozi crying, nooooo my mannnnn

So can I request Woozi or anyone after awards, all members celebrating with their partners hehe LOVE YOUUU!!!

PLEASE PLEASE 🛐🛐

🍑 i will really live the rest of my life repaying you.

you don't see seungcheol until the next day. such is the life of the general leader, it seems— the never-ending heralding, the non-stop worrying. he deals with his boys, first, then the fans, then the staff. but once that's all done, he's at your front door, collapsing into your arms before he's even past through the entryway. it doesn't matter how many awards its been. he is still overwhelmed by it every single time, and you are a soft place to land. he comes home to you and whispers the sweetest nothings in your hair. i'm so proud of them and they did so well and they're so happy. as he holds you tight— like you're the only thing keeping him upright— it's your turn to let him hear those words. i'm so proud of you. you did so well. you get to be happy, too.

the jeonghan on the other end of the video call has been quiet for the most part of the past half-hour. you'd be more worried if you hadn't already predicted where his solemness was coming from. "hannie? still with me?" you prompt gently, and he finally tears his gaze away from the ceiling to look back at you. "yeah. yeah, i'm with you," he answers. a beat. there are some things you no longer have to say out loud. how he wishes he was there. how he misses them and tries not to let it show. instead, you give him a reminder that's quiet and firm. "this is yours, too," you say. this award. this moment. these boys. all still his. there's a ghost of a smile on his face as he mumbles, "right. of course. how could i forget."

joshua likes keeping lists. a running one he has with you is that of gratitude, where the two of you try to end each day with acknowledgements of what you're grateful for. you're expecting a whole essay for him after tonight. he surprises you by keeping it short, sweet, and straight to the point. in no particular order, he types out into your shared note. music, the boys, you. hours later, he adds a footnote like it'd occurred to him as an afterthought: i'm always grateful for those three, but especially so today.

"look at them!" jun shrieks. his video call pixelates, either from spotty connection or his sudden burst of enthusiasm. you have half a mind to warn him that he may get a noise complaint again, but this time it'd be completely warranted. he's positively vibrating with excitement, his eyes glued to the livestream of his twelve brothers ascending the stage for their second award of the night. "look at them," he repeats, and this time his voice is more reverent than anything. you could comply, could do as he's asking, but your eyes are trained elsewhere. and look at you, too, you want to say. look at you and all that you've done to get this far.

even though it's been an exceptionally long day, soonyoung comes home brimming with adrenaline. he does dance routines in your living room. he jogs around your block until you beg him to just come back. he sings in the shower before collapsing onto the bed next to you, where he suddenly becomes boneless. the glow of pride stays even as the exhaustion hits. he pulls you against him and cuddles right into you. to soonyoung, this is as good as any trophy: the peace that comes with falling asleep next to you.

wonwoo has no destination in mind. he has a car with a full tank, and a playlist of all his favorite songs, and you in the passenger seat. that's more than enough. you pass through tunnels with warm lighting; expressways where he keeps the windows down so the wind will whip at your hair. occasionally, you'll stop to grab a snack or take a photo of something interesting on the side of the street. after hours of just going in circles, he'll ask, "should we keep driving?" even though he knows you'd never deny him this. this. his little celebration in the form of getting 'lost' with you.

nobody hears from jihoon for the next couple of days. the managers are worried, but the boys all just shake their heads and say that he's in good hands. which means: he's wherever you are. the two of you don't talk about his speech, about his public breakdown, because both things make him want to hide forever. instead— he sleeps in. he watches movies from months ago that he promised he'd get to. the two of you go on walks at night, and have breakfast at lunch time. the vicious cycle will soon have to begin again. jihoon knows that. but for a few, precious moments, his heart is not a heavy burden because it's safe and sound in your capable hands.

seokmin takes you on the textbook definition of your perfect date. a shopping spree? here's his black card. an amusement park? he'll rent out lotte world for the day, if he must. you're understandably baffled. he's the one who just won big, and yet you're the one being treated like royalty. try to resist and he'll only push back on you. seokmin already spoils you enough as is, but this is just a little more over-the-top than the day-to-day stuff. at the end of it all, his rationale is as sweet as it gets. "you keep me going," he tells you. "and so you deserve just as much credit as i do."

mingyu has always liked to celebrate with a meal. you'd expected his usual fare of some swanky restaurant or high-end café, but, this time, he asks for only free reign of your kitchen. he props his phone up against the salt shaker and pulls up a youtube video before flashing you his best 'just-trust-me' grin. your trust is not misplaced; the two of you do manage to bake the celebratory cake, though whether it's any good is an entirely different story. the end result doesn't matter as much as the process. mingyu is happiest about the flour marks on your cheeks, about the kisses he steals while you whisk eggs. it's not a birthday cake, but you light up a candle for him anyway. just for the hell of it. "make a wish," you tease. he's looking straight at you as he blows at the flame.

minghao asks for a beach day. the two of you set out for the nearest one. maybe the sand is a bit rocky; the shore, lacking in shells. he doesn't care. he only seeks out the sun beating on his back, the saltwater clinging to his skin, the first punch of air after emerging from the water. as the stolen weekend winds to a close, the two of you sit at the point where the water lap at your toes. neither of you have to speak. here, minghao lets the tide wash away the ache of homesickness. here, minghao redefines 'home' as a future with the boys of his youth, with the music that is as constant as the waves— and with you, of course.

the ferry ride to jeju is about four or so hours long, but seungkwan doesn't mind. there's just something so right about getting on the first vessel that will take him back where he has family waiting with a homecooked meal and a play-by-play of the award show. besides, the ferry means having four hours of uninterrupted leisure time with you. the pair of you literally have nowhere else to be except this boat and this point in time, which seungkwan is a little guilty to be so happy about. he's a glutton for your time and attention, and these ferry rides— these trips home— remind him just how much he likes taking the scenic route.

vernon treats it almost like it's just another day. almost. you're thrown off by his initial nonchalance, by the lack of utter fanfare in the way he asks you out to lunch and the two of you barely discuss the recent accolades. when you prompt him about it, you realize it's not because of arrogance or ignorance. "we're just doing what we always do," he says with an expression of mild confusion. winning?, you almost inquire half-jokingly, but that's only part of it. he elaborates, "we were just ourselves, y'know?"

when chan suggests a rage room, you're understandably confused. the wrath-based activity doesn't seem like the most optimal celebration, but you're not about to cramp his style. the two of you queue the angriest songs known to man before smashing some defunct appliances and throwing empty bottles against a wall. once your time is up, chan looks at you with that familiar spark of fire in his eyes. that dedication you fell in love with, that passion that has always burned bright. "again?" he asks, and you know it's not just the rage room that he's asking for.

[mirensiart]

Old meme I decided to make it LU lmao

Explanation of the each phrase under the cut, since I know some are difficult to understand without context

Chef’s kiss? Do they really? -> thinking the chefs kiss each other instead of the chef’s kiss 👌🏻gesture to say that something is great

The bird flu? Yeah they do that -> mishearing flu as flew

So you’re telling me a shrimp fried this rice? -> shrimp fried rice being interpreted as the shrimp frying the rice

What’s upstairs? They can’t talk! -> thinking the person is asking “what is up?” as in “how’s it going?” to the stairs instead of “what is upstairs?” (As in what is physically up the stairs) which is why they reply with “they can’t talk!”

Based? Based on what? -> thinking the usual “based” reply when u agree with someone is literal lol

Apartment Complex? I find it quite simple -> thinking they mean the apartment is complex (as in difficult to understand)

Road work ahead, I sure hope it does! -> from an old vine lmao but basically thinking the “road work ahead” sign means the road is in working order instead of works being made on the road

Wood fired pizza? How is pizza going to find a job now? -> thinking the wood fired the pizza from its job instead of being a way to cook pizza

you’re telling me a ginger bred this man? -> gingerbread man being heard as ginger bred man, I personally put twilight here cause he does have ginger ancestors lmao

Anyway this is super dumb lmao

[jasvtsc]

dean winchester x angel!reader — first time.

warnings! mdni! smut. male masturbation. reader catching dean. female masturbation. mentions of oral (both m and f receiving). fingering. praising. first time. dean talking you through it. pet names. unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it). graphic language. dean has a breeding kink. grammar mistakes.

word count! 3.5k

you were just… so sweet.

so painfully sweet and innocent. and dean didn’t want to take that away from you. he wanted you to be that innocent angel, curious of everything as long as you could. without being scarred by an ordinary mortal like him. the fact you happened to love him out of all people still baffled him. but he wasn’t complaining since he was absolutely and utterly in love with you.

but then again, you were driving him crazy to the point where the ache in his pants was getting worse and worse, day by day, where now his hand wasn’t enough to satisfy him. at this point, he got cramps in his fingers and couldn’t squeeze them in a fist properly.

he needed you. badly.

and you were so oblivious to the effect you had on him. every time you brushed against his body. or when you were in his bed, curiously watching scooby-doo as you demanded he put it on since he told you it was his favourite show when he was a kid—and you wanted to know all his favourite things. or when you’d explore your boundaries, testing out some physical contact by randomly taking his hand in yours, tucking your head under his arm as you stood next to each other, cuddling together as you went to sleep or kissing.

christ, you were so adorable. he loved you so much.

and you were so good at stirring his cock to life, unaware of what was happening.

which was pretty much the reason for his current predicament. dean was making something in the kitchen, and as the curious little angel that you were, you came closer and snuck under his arm, so now you were placed between the stove and his body.

he inhaled sharply, his eyes widening as your plush ass rubbed against his crotch. it was enough for a red light to light in his brain, and his thoughts beginning to go haywire.

too close. too close. step back. step back, he kept repeating to himself.

but how could he possibly step away from you when you looked so gorgeous, just innocently trying to learn something new from your boyfriend? dear god, was he going to hell. again.

he looked down since you were shorter than him, which was a mistake. his eyes widened, and his mouth watered as he was met with the valley of your perky breasts, a deep cutout in your shirt doing only so little to help his fantasies.

not only that, but he did start wandering where you even get clothes LIKE THAT.

fuck, who was picking your clothes? stupid question, as if he wasn’t the one to do so.

the truth was that dean spoiled you immensely. now, instead of buying the newest copy of ‘busty asian beauties’, he was picking out some magazines for you to read. you’d look at all the pretty pictures—that’s what you’d call them, and point at clothes you liked. and dean would get them for you when you stopped by some shops. how did he know your breast cup size, though?

well, he was experienced like that. and he loved looking down at your boobs when you were sleeping in his arms.

anyway.

to complete the overall outfit, you were wearing those low-cut jeans that nicely accented your plump ass that he loved swatting as you went past him. and the way your white panties were sticking out just made him imagine his fingers slipping under the fabric and making it dampen as he—

he took a sharp breath. again.

dean took a step back after all, only to discreetly palm his crotch as he hummed some kind of response to the question you just asked him. however, he couldn’t think straight. so, making up some lame excuse, he kissed you on your temple and quickly went to his bedroom, sitting down on his bed and resting his back against the pillow, already propped up.

he rubbed the bulge in his pants, groaning at the feeling of his cock straining against the fabric. he couldn’t take it anymore. he fumbled with his belt and pulled his pants and boxers down, freeing his dick. his massive length sprung free, hard as a rock, already leaking beads of precum. he spat on his hand, not bothering to take the lotion out of his night drawer and started stroking himself.

he started off slowly, imagining that it was your delicate hand, your small fingers grabbing his dick for the first time, barely able to wrap around his girth. he imagined you gasping in surprise as you would start moving your hand up and down, letting him guide you through it, so you’d do your best to pleasure him. and you would—he knew it. you were such a good little angel for him.

dean groaned and squeezed harder, picking up the pace of his hand, his pants and moans getting more audible, but he didn’t care about it at the moment. now, he was imagining you taking him in your mouth. at first, you’d be too eager—you’d gag around him and quickly pull back with that sheepish smile of yours when you did something wrong. holy fuck. he’d reassure you, and then you’d try again, slowly, taking the tip first, gently suckling with your pretty plump lips he loved to kiss. then, you’d go lower and lower, your cheeks hollowing as you—

the door to his room slammed open, and his heart stopped. he widened his eyes and turned his head, seeing… you out of all the people.

fuck him (not that he would mind).

you entered the room with that godforsaken curious expression, closing the door behind you. then, you stood by the side of his bed, your head tilted to the side as you looked at him, blinking slowly, as if you didn’t notice his fat, messy cock, tightly gripped in his hand, with skin slightly reddened from the intense strokes.

“are you okay?” you asked softly, and dean wished that something could just kill him right now, his face as red as it could possibly get.

“yeah. why are you asking?” he chuckled nervously, quickly tucking himself back in his pants, even though it was painful at this point. god, he needed to cum so badly.

“i don’t know. you disappeared. and then you were panting and calling my name, and i thought something was happening and that you needed my help,” you just couldn’t be more innocent than that. “i was scared something was wrong,” you admitted shyly, fiddling with your fingers.

and gosh, he’d take your face in his hands if it wasn’t for one of them being covered in precum.

“hey, don’t worry, birdie. i’m okay. just needed—“ he sighed, straightening his back and trying to muffle a grunt. “some relief.”

“from what?” yeah, of course, you’d ask. your curiosity was picked up again.

“it’s nothing that you should stress your little feathery head with,” he smiled, adjusting himself, trying his best not to moan.

and you took a moment to look at him. you tilted your head as your eyes raked over his body, his twitching hand and the massive tent in his pants. you blinked a few times as that familiar feeling you didn’t know started pooling in your lower abdomen. ogling his groin, you rubbed your thighs together, and dean noticed that instantly.

so angels do get horny.

he swallowed thickly, his mouth practically going dry as he saw your face contorting in frustration as you swayed from one leg to the other, trying to get some friction between your legs.

that’s when dean decided that he wouldn’t leave you hanging like that.

“what are you doing, birdie?” he asked, licking his lips.

“i don’t know. i have this weird feeling in my belly,” you scoffed with a small pout. “like i’m excited or something.”

“that’s cause you are. you’re aroused, baby,” he hummed, reaching his left hand out to you. he hooked his fingers under the hem of your jeans, pulling you closer so you were now standing between his legs. he rubbed your hip and smiled softly. “do you know how babies are made?” a stupid question, but, he needed to know that you were aware.

“dean, i know what sex is. i just didn’t think angels could feel that. apparently they can, and i feel like that only around you,” you huffed in frustration while dean couldn’t be more ecstatic than that. you were horny only around him.

“well, have you ever done it?” he asked, almost breathlessly. it felt like the best day of his life.

“no. i didn’t have to,” this matter-of-fact tone only made the older winchester chuckle in amusement.

“birdie, it’s not something you have to do. it’s something you do to feel good. to have some fun with the person you love. it’s not some obligatory task, y’know?” he explained, squeezing your hip.

“like the pizza man?” you tilted your head to the side, and dean sighed. damn, cas, for showing it to you.

“exactly. like the pizza man,” a small smile on his lips as he leaned forward and placed a kiss on your stomach. “but my question is, do you want to feel good, birdie? do you want to do this with me?” maybe, after all, he’d take some of your innocence. but just a little…

you nodded your head, the ache between your legs only intensifying. dean smiled and stroked your cheek with his knuckles.

“good girl,” and then, he pulled you in for the kiss that couldn’t scream hunger any louder.

he was kissing you with a fervour that you happily returned, your fingers tugging on his short hair, making him gasp in your mouth. he’s tongue quickly dominated yours, tasting the familiar cavern of your mouth.

dean grabbed you by the nape of your neck, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling him. he grunted into the kiss, grinding his hips up into you. the massive bulge in his pants rubbed against your clothed heat, making you gasp so sweetly into his lips.

“fuck, i need you so much, birdie. can i have you?” he practically whimpered, looking into your eyes with so much desperation and pent-up feelings.

you smiled and nodded, placing a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

“of course, deano,” and it was enough to make him feel like he was on top of the world.

quickly, he spun you around, your back on the plush blanket as he made his way between your legs. his breath hitched as he fumbled with your jeans, slowly sliding them down. his eyes fell wide open, and he felt as if his heart stopped when he saw that your white panties were practically transparent from how soaked they were.

“you’re this excited, birdie?” he asked with a small chuckle, throwing your pants on the floor. he lay down on his stomach, right between your legs, looking at your dampened underwear as if it was the most beautiful sight in the whole world. “you’re so wet. for me,” he sighed, almost in disbelief.

meanwhile, you felt shy. you trusted dean, but it was something totally new, and you didn’t know what to expect. angels weren’t supposed to feel like that… at all. but then again, you fell in love with a human, so might as well go to hell with it.

dean started blowing on the dampened spot, his warm breath making you squirm, your thighs trembling. you tried to lift them up, bent your knees, but he stopped you, throwing your legs over his shoulders, scooting closer to your needy pussy.

“i didn’t know you were sensitive like that,” he chuckled and pressed a small kiss against your clothed core. you gasped softly, mindlessly moving your hips as if to grind against his face.

you were flustered and didn’t know what to do. which dean noticed and took it as his personal mission to make it feel good for you. he looked up at your reddened face with a soft smile, rubbing circles with his fingers on the soft skin of your thighs.

“i’ll make it so good for you, birdie. i promise,” he panted, and then, he practically ripped your white panties open. not that he was planning on getting rough with you—he just didn’t want to pull away from his new favourite place.

as soon as your pussy was bare to his eyes, he almost gasped in amazement. your pinky folds were covered in arousal, glistening deliciously as if to invite him to bury his face there. he brushed against them with his fingers, and then, slowly parted them open. he inhaled sharply through his nose as he placed his fingers on your clit, already feeling how swollen it was under his digits. he started rubbing it in soft circles, making you gasp and arch into his touch. jesus christ, it was like all his dreams came true in this moment.

“you have such a pretty little pussy, birdie. and you’re already so eager for me,” he muttered breathlessly, grinding his hips against the mattress as he was touching you.

his other hand moved to your entrance, his fingers probing it open, and then, he slowly slid one finger inside. you widened your eyes and inhaled sharply, sitting up and looking at what he was doing.

“shh, shh. it’ll feel good, baby. i promise. watch and learn so you can help yourself if i’m not around, okay?” he cooed, looking up to meet your eyes.

after receiving a nod of confirmation, dean continued. slowly, he started moving his finger inside of you, feeling your soft walls clamp around it greedily. fuck, he wanted to sink his cock inside you as soon as possible to feel you flutter around him, memorize his shape as it twitched eagerly inside of you, ready to spill his thick cum deep inside your womb, marking you as his. but first, he needed to prepare you for it.

then, he added the second finger, moving them in and out but also trying to stretch your tight hole for his dick. it could barely take in two of his fingers, so he was only imagining how tight you’d feel wrapped around his cock—which made it twitch painfully in his pants.

you were making such beautiful sounds—every shy groan, gasp or a whimper, sending him into oblivion as you watched him fingering you like a good little student.

however, as soon as he felt your walls begin to flutter around his digits, he slowly withdrew them, making you whine quietly at the sudden emptiness. he smiled and looked at you while his thumb was pressed against your swollen bud. “i know you want more, baby. but now it’s time for something better, and i want you to finish with me. but i’ll kiss that pretty pussy later and make you feel good again,” he promised, placing a soft kiss on your forehead as his thumb stroked your clit. you gasped and nodded, biting your lower lip as you looked up at him.

“i need you, dean,” you whined so pathetically that he felt he’d cum in his pants right at that exact moment.

he nodded his head, taking his clothes off at the same time, eager to sink deeply into your warmth. as soon as he pulled his boxers down, his cock sprung free, hitting his stomach. you widened your eyes curiously, tilting your head to the side as you watched it throb, precum leaking down from the tip. subconsciously, you licked your lips, your cunt only getting wetter. dean smirked cockily, getting between your legs once again.

“like what y’see, birdie?” he chuckled, stroking himself a few times, spreading the precum on his length.

then, he rubbed the tip of his fat cock against your dripping slit, coating it in your juices. finally, he nudged the head of his erection in your entrance, slowly pushing in, filling your desperate cunt. you gasped loudly, your eyes widening as you felt his cock stretching you out. with a whine, you leaned back on the pillow, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let out a few needy whimpers.

dean grunted, feeling your walls flutter around him, trying to accommodate his size.

“you’re so fucking tight, birdie,” he panted, slowly pushing forward, trying to sink in fully, just waiting for the moment his tip would brush against your cervix. one hand was firmly holding your hip meanwhile the other moved to your chest, giving your breast a firm squeeze as he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, feeling it harden in his touch.

soon, he was fully sheathed in you, the tip of his dick pressed against your cervix, your walls stretching on his girth, already memorizing each throbbing vein. he looked down at you with a soft smile, stroking your hair as he moved some of it out of your already sweaty forehead.

“how are you doing, birdie? feels good?” he asked. he wanted to make sure that it was 100% pleasurable to you, and he’d stop as soon as he noticed even a slight narrowing of your brows.

you nodded, biting down on your lower lip. “yhym. y-yeah. feels good,” you sighed, slowly relaxing after the intrusion.

dean smiled and kissed you lovingly on your lips, beginning to move as soon as he felt that you weren’t so tense anymore. you gasped softly when he pulled out, the head of his cock still nestled in your pussy, and then moved back in. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your nails digging into his back, leaving dark crescent marks on his skin. he hissed and groaned in pleasure, picking up the pace.

“you drive me crazy, birdie. feels so good. so wet. i should’ve put my cock in you a long time ago,” he moaned, his hips beginning to slam against yours, the loud sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing through the walls along with the sound of your pussy eagerly slurping him in.

soon, he was pounding in and out of you, your lovemaking echoing obscurely to the point it was heard outside of the room, and you just imagined the look of exasperation on sam’s face as he pondered over getting some earplugs. but it quickly disappeared from your mind, your focus landing back on dean and his cock, basically splitting you open.

he threw your legs over his shoulders, wrapping his arms around your thighs as this new position allowed him to go even deeper. you were holding onto the headboard, moans leaving your mouth nonstop, and as he hit that sweet spot inside of you, you almost screamed, clenching around him.

“you’re gonna cum? huh, birdie? cum for me,” he panted, thrusting into you even harder.

you yelped pathetically, feeling a knot forming in your lower belly, your body tensing up as it was preparing to fall over the edge.

“yeah, that’s it. cum for me, angel. you’re so pretty. fuck, i love you so much,” he panted, freeing your legs and just holding your thighs as he made you wrap them around his waist. then, he leaned forward, crashing his lips on yours in a desperate kiss.

and that was enough to send you over the edge. you clenched around him and then relaxed as your juices started gushing out on his length. he helped you come down from your high. however, his movements faltered as he was close too. he shortly followed after you, stilling in your cunt as he spilled thick ropes of his pearly seed inside your warm womb.

he drew out your climax and finally slumped down, resting on top of you. he cradled you in his arms, his head resting between your breasts as his soft cock was still nestled inside of you, your mixed juices dripping out, creating a mess.

“god, you were amazing,” he said, kissing the side of your breast. however, you quickly slapped his arm, making him hiss and raise his head at you, a small pout on his lips. “ow, what was that for?”

“don’t say his name now!” you huffed, your cheeks red as if you were caught doing something inappropriate. dean chuckled and lifted himself up, peppering your face with kisses.

“okay, okay. i won’t,” he murmured, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, just basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking.

after a while, he pulled out of you, watching his cum drip out of you. he smiled proudly and scooped some up with his thumb, pushing it back inside.

“just so nothing goes to waste,” he hummed. “we’re definitely going to do it more often from now on,” he grinned at you, studying your face. “you’ll be full of my seed every day.”

and once again, you had that curious expression on.

“can we do it now?”

dean was flabbergasted with how quickly you had recovered. but then again, you were an angel, and his dick was already hardening.

who was he to deny his little angel?

a/n: i didn’t expect it to be so long lmfao😭lmk what you think<3

༄♡ tags: @beausling @deanswidow @titsout4nicholas @a1ecmcdowell @figthoughts @aileenunfiltered @fitxgrld @angelicp0etry @hrtsoldierboy @deansbite @10ava01

[hedwig221b]

Witch or magical Stiles recs..?

Hi! I did magical!Stiles fic recs here! This time, let's focus on witch!Stiles (my beloved)

A Thousand Fiery Suns of Angst - Just Press Play by apocryphal

All Stiles wants from life is to learn to control his magic, keep his grades up, and not die horribly while saving Beacon Hills from supernatural threats. It's all going pretty well until Derek Hale, werewolf extraordinaire, has to go and ask him on a date. That asshole.

The Wolf in the Tower by exclamation

Too many people are scared of witches so when Stiles accidentally sets a building on fire with magic, he is taken prisoner and dragged before Lord Hale. Rather than leave an untrained magic user free, Peter Hale thinks he might be able to make use of Stiles' skills and hands Stiles over to his sorceror Deaton to be trained. Stiles is still unsure about his future, but he's even more confused when he finds out that one of his new duties involves feeding the black wolf imprisoned at the top of one of the towers. There's something very strange about this wolf and Stiles can't help wondering if magic might be involved.

Dead Things by standinginanicedress

Derek blows some more smoke out. He chooses to look at Stiles’ mouth instead of in his eyes, again. “I need you to bring someone back.” “Back.” “From the dead.” “Absolutely not,” Stiles scoffs, shaking his head. “Not for you, not for all the money in the world.” Derek looks at him, just looks. He is not going to accept no for an answer, and Stiles knows it, but it doesn’t matter, because Stiles will not do that. He cannot do that, not again. “Why not for me in specific?”

For My Flesh Had Turned to Fur, and My Thoughts Had Turned to You by literaryoblivion

They’ve known about the other pack for quite some time now. They know the pack is young and small, formed together more by accident and necessity than anything else. But, they haven’t done anything about them because they’ve been fairly quiet, kept to themselves, and haven’t caused any trouble. That is until the Hales start hearing rumors about the McCall pack acquiring a very young and inexperienced but powerful witch. So Alpha Hale sends her eldest son, Derek, for all intents and purposes, to spy on the McCall pack and their so-called witch, to see what the truth of the situation is.

The Ink Under My Skin by rainsoakedshoes

Derek is looking for an Emissary. What he finds is Stiles Stilinski; resident witch. Stiles would do whatever it takes to protect the Hale pack and his Alpha. “I want to protect my pack as well as I can,” Derek continued. “Emissaries traditionally keep balance, having someone who wants to tip the odds in our favour may come in handy.”

Destiny is the Rising Sun by asswords

Stiles and Derek are best at keeping secrets – the biggest one being the fact that they knew each other long before Scott had to go and become a werewolf. (The second biggest secret belongs to Stiles, something about how he’s not allowed to tell Derek he’s the trusted advisor and kind of a witch.)

your fangs against my skin (the sound of your bones)

This was it, then, huh? It was that easy for Derek to invite someone to his den. Someone other than Stiles. He healed the wolf. Stiles killed his tormentor, mended his blood and bones, and let him sleep beside him. But none of it was enough. He wasn’t a spark, after all, but a witch — evil and alone, locked up in his tower. Witches didn’t get happy endings.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life. There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

These Scars Tell A Story (But It’s Not Mine) by HappyJuicyfruit

Derek’s eyes widened in confusion as Stiles babbled at him. “I know it’s not up to you, but you’re like, my guard, right? You’ve been keeping an eye on me? Tell your mom I wouldn’t lie about this, my dad deserves to stay here. He’s happy here, please let him stay!” Guard? Keeping an eye on him? “Stiles, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Stiles face crumpled, his hands clung to Derek’s shirt tighter as tears and snot dripped off his chin. Derek frantically tries to think of the right thing to say. “You think- you think I’m your guard? That I’ve been watching you to, what, make sure you don’t do any magic? Stiles, that’s ridiculous. Beacon Hills is a sanctuary for supernaturals. We allow people to use their magic. I was just trying to be your friend.” Stiles breath hitched. “My friend?”

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | hurt/comfort | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | mafia | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse

[kaiser1ns]

The after-party was getting dull, and you were exhausted, longing for the comfort of home, the warmth of your bed, and the fluffiest blankets you owned. The soft mattress, the mountain of plushies—some gifted by Itoshi Sae, others by Michael Kaiser—called to you. Sae watched the scene from afar, swirling a champagne glass as he observed you and Kaiser sitting on the cold balcony stairs, sharing a piece of cake. The striker leaned closer, taking small bites as you offered, enjoying your company. The midfielder sighed and eventually joined, sitting beside you, which put you in the middle of them both.

A chilly breeze swept through, and you shivered slightly. Your dress, beautiful but strapless, wasn’t much protection against the cool air, though It was gorgeous, something you’d want to wear every day, but sadly, it was from a fashion house and would have to be returned. Suddenly, warmth settled around your shoulders. Kaiser had wrapped his jacket around you, flashing a soft smile before smirking at Sae. You didn’t notice Sae’s reaction, distracted by the night sky above. So many stars—a constellation not unlike the football stars in the team you worked for, Re Al. The best team in the world, a rare privilege you held, to be close to legendary players like Modric, Kroos, Ronaldo, and Zidane.

And now, the team’s rising stars—the Japanese and German prodigies, both members of the New Generation World XI, each easily affected by the other’s smallest provocation.

"Quick on the field, slow to treat a lady, aren’t you, Sae?” Kaiser teased, raising an eyebrow, and running a tattooed hand through his hair. The midfielder shot him a glare, moments from tossing his drink to wipe the smug grin off his teammate's face, but you interrupted, resting your head on Sae’s shoulder.

“Do you ever wonder… what life would have been like,” you murmured. The two paused their banter, curious. Snuggled in Kaiser’s jacket, you went on, “…if we’d never joined Re Al, or the world of football at all?”

Sae and Kaiser exchanged glances, taken aback. It wasn’t like you to ask questions like this, and you rarely drank that much. But when they looked back at you, your eyes were closed—not asleep, just calm, relaxing for once without making Sae jealous or flirting with Kaiser. For now, you stayed neutral. You knew you loved them both, but the question was—who?

A question for another time, you thought. Reopening your eyes to watch your breath form a small cloud in the cool night air. “Usually, both of you have something to say… so?”

Sae answered first, setting his glass down and absently twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. “I probably would have had a normal life. A happy one. Maybe my personality wouldn’t have turned out quite like this.” You hummed softly, glancing over at Kaiser, who looked uncharacteristically sad, and … upset. Had your question touched a nerve?

“Do you want to share, Misha?” you asked. He quickly regained his composure, losing his blue tie as he too looked up at the sky

“Probably a criminal, or something,” he shrugged it off quickly, yet the pain lingered behind his eyes. After Kaiser’s answer, a soft silence settled over the three of you. You could sense that this wasn’t the time to dig further; if he wanted to share more, he would. Instead, you shifted, resting your head on Kaiser’s shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.

“There’s no salvation in the past,” he murmured, his voice low. “So don’t think about it. Focus on what’s happening now.” But his words drifted past you as sleep tugged at your eyelids. Kaiser noticed, chuckling softly at how peaceful you looked as you began to doze off.

Carefully, he nudged you up, steadying you on your feet. Sae, still sitting, glanced up at the way you seemed exhausted and on the verge of falling asleep right here on the spot as he too thought the same, that you were so cute.

“Might be the last time we have such a peaceful moment like this,” Kaiser said quietly. “Let’s bring her home.”

The two of them helped you down the stairs, keeping you steady. They’d make sure you got home safe and sound and hoped for no paparazzi photos first thing in the morning. Both of them here, looking out for you, felt like a gift from the universe itself—having them not only in your life but in your heart.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[runnning-outof-time]

“You Came.” “You Called.” | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Solomons Sister!Reader

Summary: Tommy Shelby and (Y/N) Solomons despise each other…….or do they?

Warnings: language, slight sexual situations, weapons, threats

Word Count: 1304

A/N: I’m sorry this isn’t as long as the others have been. I need to get these requests finished and this is what I was able to come out with. I hope you’ll still enjoy! Also I’ve tried something a little different at the end - hopefully you’ll participate and not be too mad at me for it! :)

A/N 2: Oh and this is the story where the Solomons!Sister won the poll — I’m not sure if it’s angsty enough…I tried my best with it. Also I’m sorry if Alfie seems ooc here…it’s been a bit since I’ve written him and I’m rusty.

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! — I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THE STORY!

comment/message me if you’d like to be tagged!

"You came," she sounded surprised.

"You called," his response was nonchalant.

"Yeah, but I didn't call you."

The story of Tommy Shelby and (Y/N) Solomons is a long, complicated one.

To give a quick summary: they first met the day that Tommy showed up at Alfie's 'bakery. She was the first to greet him and instantly was able to realize that there was more to his motives than what he was letting on.

She was cautious when dealing with him at first, but his charm soon enough chipped away that hesitant exterior she'd put up.

Neither could help but cross the line one late evening after a successful business dinner.

She thought that that would be the end of Tommy Shelby. But now he'd shown up at her door...when she was expecting her brother.

"Where's my brother?" (Y/N) asked, looking to either side of the doorway, hoping that Alfie would be close by.

He wasn't.

"He's busy," Tommy answered.

"So he sent you?" she asked, her brows furrowed.

"Not exactly," he shook his head.

"I'm not understanding what you're saying. Ollie told me that he'd take a note down for Alfie and that he'd inform him as soon as he became available." (Y/N) was confused now.

"I saw the note," he began, "took it upon myself to see what was needed to be discussed."

(Y/N)'s jaw just about dropped. "Tommy, why did you...would you, you shouldn't, you..."

"My name was on the note, love," he cut off her attempt to string words together.

"Just because it was on the note does not mean you were to be involved!" she couldn't stop her voice from raising, her eyes widening as she spoke. Now she was wondering how Ollie had phrased his note to Alfie. A few beats passed before a sigh escaped her lips. She ran a frustrated hand across her face before asking, "what...what did the note say?" Her thoughts had gotten the best of her.

"It said that you needed to speak about Shelby...had some information you wanted to be made known," he answered her, his eyes boring into hers. (Y/N) opened her mouth to say something but he didn't let her, taking a step inside, making her back up in the process. "What is it you wanted to tell him, hmm?"

His close proximity made her heartrate increase. She was quickly losing her ability to think. "Tommy, I..."

"What really was your goal last night, (Y/N)?" he asked her, his brows raising.

The willpower to keep her hands by her sides and not reach out to take hold of him was leaving (Y/N) by the second.

"I thought your intentions aligned with mine..." he trailed off, raising his hand so that he could run it down her jawline in a slow, teasing manner, "at least it seemed that way when you brought me back here."

Instead of dropping his hand when he reached her chin, he grasped it; taking it between his thumb and index finger so that he could raise her fleeing eyes to match his. This action made the breath get caught in (Y/N)'s throat, and every valid argument left her mind the second her eyes locked onto his icy blue ones. All hope was lost now.

"What are your intentions with me, (Y/N)?" he asked her.

"You know them, Tommy, I.." she couldn't quite string a thought together.

"Tell me."

"I.." she paused again, interally freaking out. Think of something, anything, (Y/N), come on! "I wanted to tell him about you...about us," she decided on telling him a lie, hoping that he would take it as the truth.

"Yeah?"

She couldn't decipher what he was truly thinking from his one word response. His widened eyes didn't help either, other than making her fall deeper into his trap with each second that passed. Now she was wracking her brain to think of ways to sell this.

The last thing she wanted to tell him was that she was going to sell him out...to tell Alfie what she felt his true intentions were.

"Yeah," she breathed, nodding her head as much as she could with his fingers still holding her chin. Sell it, (Y/N)!, her mind screamed before she raised her hands up to grip his lapels. All coherent thoughts flew out the window as she leaned in and kissed him.

This wasn't a loving kiss. It wasn't a slow one, unlike the ones they shared last night. She kissed him hard, hoping that the passion she put into it would be enough to get his mind off of the damn note and seal her lie for good.

His hold tightened on her chin, but he didn't break the kiss. In fact, his other hand moved from his side to her hip, where he began bunching up her skirt in order to make contact with her bare skin.

Success.

(Y/N) also became absorbed by the passion that they both were showing. It was hard not to given the fact that he was Tommy Shelby. The night they shared was one of the best she'd ever had. Conniving business man or not, she would remember it for the rest of her life.

"What in the bloody fucking hell is going on here?!"

What (Y/N) did not remember before getting sucked into this situation was to shut the door to her home.

Her eyes shot open and she became frantic, trying to break the kiss and move away from Tommy as quick as she could. "Alfie!" she shrieked, surprise clear on her face.

"Why're you fucking kissing my sister, mate?!" Alfie asked Tommy, speaking with a seething anger.

While (Y/N) was just about shaking from the shock of her brother showing up, Tommy didn't seem to be phased.

"Alfie he...he was just..."

"No," Alfie cut (Y/N) off, shaking his head and stopping her attempt to cover for the man now standing beside her, "I asked him not you. He knows family is off-fucking-limits, so I want him to answer me why."

Tommy said nothing. (Y/N) shrunk into herself more and more with each passing second. She'd never seen Alfie this angry.

"I said fucking answer me!" Alfie bellowed, drawing the revolver he had tucked into his waistband. He wasted no time in cocking it and holding it in Tommy's face.

Tommy still didn't move; didn't even flinch.

"You're going to fucking answer me," Alfie demanded, his voice low and menacing, "yeah, you're going to fucking answer me or it'll be your fucking brains blown out all over (Y/N)'s fucking foyer."

"Alfie, don't," (Y/N) begged her brother, reaching a shaky hand out in hopes that he would see it and lower his weapon.

"She called for you," Tommy spoke, his voice level and stoic.

"She fucking what?" Alfie asked, his brows furrowing slightly, confused by why Tommy was saying this.

“She called your office. You weren’t around. But my name was on the note,” Tommy shared more details.

“And what does that have fucking anything to do with you fucking kissing my sister?!” Alfie’s anger had returned.

“It has everything to do with it,” Tommy was still level-headed. “You see, she was going to tell you about this, about us,” he then dropped the bomb, motioning between himself and (Y/N) to emphasize the point he was making.

“I can explain,” (Y/N) was quick to blurt out, her eyes trained on the gun in Alfie’s hand, which he’d - thankfully - lowered from being aimed at Tommy’s head.

She couldn’t read the look in her brother’s eyes. The seconds felt like hours as they passed. She stood frozen as Alfie rose the revolver again and…….

Ok I’m evil, I know but……..

Don’t fret, if the poll’s closed by the time you’re reading this, you’re still more than welcome (and I’d encourage you, actually) to share what you think would happen next!!

p.s….this story won’t be getting continued. I’m just curious as to what y’all think.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

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@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

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