#thai attire

[asian-folk-wardrobe]

[kittysawat]

if you cant get an organic s2 wedding, then store bought is just fine!!!!!!!!

[how-to-be-a-tree]

+

Gun; Just being friendly MV, cover version by Chinzhilla

[tired-fandom-ndn]

Okay okay okay, please help me with this if you can. I'm trying to do research on this and I'm not finding anything, probably not googling the right thing, but in photos of Thai women in cultural costumes/regalia/whatever you call traditional clothing, they're usually carrying something.

It's a large ring, maybe beaded? maybe made with shells or something similar?, with a tassel and usually flower and fruit imagery incorporated into it. Sometimes the women are wearing it on their wrist, usually they're carrying it in both hands. Does anyone know what this item is called? I have been searching desperately and running into walls and I have no idea what else I could possibly google to figure it out.

[die-auster]

Some "if Yue is alive and went travelling with the Gaang" designs

With a ton of text about cultural inspiration.

The main book 2 look

I wanted to show cultural differences between the tribes, so Yue's look is sort of Mongolian. There were Mongolian-styled hats in the Northern tribe, and Yue's dress under the coat looked like a Mongolian deel (thanks @atlaculture for all these posts about clothes and everything else!), so it's not much against the canon information.

So she's wearing a deel again with a second layer - there are chinese actors on photos as far as I know; I hope it's okay. One-shoulder silhouette refers to later Aang's clothes because Yue is still kind of a spiritual person (she wasn't a fighter, so I want her to have some other useful talent – not a bender or healer like Katara or a non-bender warrior like Suki). Violet, pink and white were originally her colors, no changes here. Three blue characters would be too much for a group of five, and total white is not practical at all. I like to think that violet color shows high rank in the Avatar universe; in the original series it was only worn by princess Yue, Kanna, the chief Hakoda's mother, and by king Bumi.

Yue's boots here are mongolian gutals/gutuls (the collage is already big, but I used them again for one of Book 3-looks).

Her hair become simpler – just two braids and a hairpiece, to match her previous decorated hairdo. I guess if she's travelling with the Gaang she's not that much of a Moon Spirit anymore (maybe she returned the part of the moon spirit that saved her and was healed other way?), so I decided to forego the moon-referring part. Also it will be easier to do by herself since she has no servants now... The headdress I took from modern Mongolian dancers; the front part is crescent-moon-shaped.

The Ba Sing Se dress

I fell in love with this Ao Dai dress, it's simple, long and elegant. But... it's mostly Vietnamese… and I'm afraid that it's modern and not historically accurate. Also it does not really go together with other Ba Sing Se dresses :( because I did not want to just copy-paste some background look. But there is at least one dress with a tail, thigh high slits and a standing collar on the dress underneath, so... I guess my choice is not that bad? The tail makes her look more royal. The fan is the same which Toph and Katara had. For the palette I chose Yue's white color with EK greens and warm yellow/ochre to match Katara and Toph. The hairdo is copied from the series; I chose one with the tassel on the right, to refer the NWT/Korean accessories.

The Fire Nation disguise

A confession – I don't like FN clothes. I wasn't sure if I would be able to do it properly, so I almost copied that attire (left one) – asymmetry, as a Thai touch, which again matches Aang's Invasion Buddhist-like clothes. The palette keeps Yue's signature white, with some pink of a warmer shade, as they wear it in the Fire Nation. And the "royal" long skirt, 'cause she's still not a fighter. The look is simplified so I could not keep zigzag ornament on her longyi skirt, therefore I moved it onto the top part.

I used Thai dancers jewelry and... flip flops? idk how they are called in Southeast Asia (don't like Sokka and Katara's FN shoes at all, why the design is so complicated?).

For covering her hair I used a turban, inspired by Myanmar turbans; a white one, so if some hair will show, it won't be too noticeable. Also Yue could still be easily recognised on screen/page by her white head. The long end of the fabric on her right resembles burmese hairstyle silhouette.

The Invasion-and-till-finale look

For her dress I used a deel (again); the sleeveless jacket is an hommage to her original design and has some Korean vibes, like Toph's Ba Sing Se dress (at least I hope so). Katara and Sokka's season 1 looks have Korean influence, so I guess it's okay. Gutals are from her Book 2 main look. I have a soft spot for them.

My favorite thing is her hair :)))) It's a mix of Inuit/Mongolian braids and a hairpiece, also from the Book 2 look. This time there will be more braids. Two on the front – I wanted to keep them from her original hairdo, but now they are braided together (I saw this on the Alaskan Inuit/Eskimo women photos). On the back there are five, inspired by a Mongolian hairdo for young unmarried girls, who wore multiple braids. I decided to make five, because Alaskian Inuit language uses this amount for counting and with two front braids it'll make seven, which is a lucky Mongolian number. And in theory a limited number should be easier to animate.

The post-canon noble look

After the final battle I thought Yue will come back to Agna Qel'a and become a more active political figure. I chose a white kuspuk (blue color is still for Katara and Sokka), showing that she is ready to lead her tribe after this journey, not the passive perfect princess she was before. "She is associated in canon with the masculine yang of the yin and yang and the moon which, in most Inuit and Eskimo cultures, is considered masculine as well. While white kuspuks are associated with men and specifically family patriarchs, a feminine kuspuk in white makes plenty of sense for Yue's character" – @mostly-mundane-atla helped me a lot with the cultural meaning of the clothes (I am so grateful!). Also it's an hommage to her total-white Moon Spirit look. And I changed her hair again to Greenland updo with two tied braids on the front – more complicated than the simple braids she wore during the journey. It looks formal.

NWT is less Inuit-inspired and has a strong Mongolian touch (to make them look more "modern"? dunno) but I guess the formal wear for the spiritual princess could refer to older traditions. Which should be the same with SWT, 'cause SWT was originally a part of NWT – or so I heard. For example, Kuruk, the NWT Avatar who lived about 400 years ago, has nothing Mongolian in his look.

All the looks are simplified to match the style of the original cartoon. I know there should be more details and embroidery, but my goal here was to draw something (at least theoretically) applicable for animation. And no Hahn's betrothal necklace of course.

Also I want to mention here other great Yue designs, since they are the inspiration behind the overall idea of the post – the moon looks and "Yue joins the Gaang" outfits by amazingly talented @chiptrillino.

P.S.: an important note

This is my first attempt ever to design outfits that could fit the world of A:tLA. I am not Asian or ingenious, not an expert in their cultures or costume history at all, not a professional character designer. I am just a fan who tried to create designs with respect to real cultures and people. Nothing here was supposed to be offensive in any way. If something still is – please inform me so I could fix it as soon as possible.

I hope, as a fan, I have the right to draw fanarts looking for an inspiration in the cultures that inspired the original cartoon.

If you see mistakes in my post, be it in drawings or a text, also feel free to tell me. I will deeply appreciate it.

[dc9spot]

Loykratong with the archon again! Mavuika in Thai inspired attire!

[rotdistressxox]

Headcanons: How the Kengan Men would fall asleep with you

Ohma Tokita

• Takes A LOT of convincing to get him to go to bed on time because he usually naps during the day and whenever he feels like it

• But he caves in because you just look so cute in a t-shirt and underwear

• Sleeps in boxer briefs, maybe pajama pants if it's a cooler night. Always shirtless, but you're not complaining

• Hates to admit it, but he loves being spooned. Having your arms wrapped around his waist and your chest pressed into his back just hits the spot.

• Cradle him in your chest and play with his hair, the dude will be knocked out instantly

• Teasing a sleepy Ohma is the best because he has no power over you now. Baby talk it is

• "You sleepy baby?" "Mmgn" "That's okay, go to sleep" "Mmhm" "Good boy"

• Twitches in his sleep, be warned

• He wakes you up because he makes noises sometimes due to his nightmares.

• Give him a peck on the cheek, he'll shut up real fast.

• Is your personal space heater, his body is usually very warm when he's resting (Apart from when he's fighting...and doing something else)

Lihito / Ichiro Nakata

• Boy is he happy, would never miss out on a chance to snuggle up to you.

• He has matching pajamas, you gotta snort at him everytime he whips them out

• Other than that, usually wears a t-shirt and pajama pants

• Socks stay ON

• Handsy, rests his hands on your butt to warm them up. You squeal everytime he grabs it and all he can do is give a shit-eating grin

• Usually takes him a while to actually fall asleep, so he'll just stay up on his phone or talking to you. While you are actually trying to fall asleep

• Falling asleep on his chest boosts his ego a little. Feels extra manly, yknow?

• Likes to hear the sound of your soft breaths, thinks it's utterly adorable.

• Finally falls asleep after taking in every detail of your sleeping face

Raian Kure

• "Sleep is for the weak"

• You have to coax him into bed with neck kisses galore and praise. Man is a sucker for praise

• Metal Band T-shirt and trunks are his usual attire. Loves it when you wear his shirts to sleep, too

• Is the big spoon

• His big vieny arms wrapped around you as you softly massage them. That's basically heaven to him.

• Tucks you into his side if he's not spooning, cranes his head to rest on yours.

• Commands you to go to sleep before he does.

• He feels extra vulnerable with you in his arms and wants to make sure you are alright.

• Anyone walks in while you and him are trying to sleep, consider them good as dead.

• Without waking you up, he'll gently pull you in to kiss the top of your head before he falls into a deep slumber.

• Good luck trying to wake him up.

Gaolang Wongsawat

• Is usually the one telling you to go to bed.

• Drags you away from whatever you're doing despite your whines and protests.

• Wears a nice silk robe when he's finishing up nightly duties before taking it off. Then it's a tanktop and some baggy pants.

• Strips the tanktop off if it gets too hot.

• Some nights he falls right asleep, others he stays up reading until he can.

• Before he even thinks about closing his eyes, he whispers an 'I love you' and kisses either your forehead, cheek, or lips.

• Sleeps on his back

• It's basically muscle memory if you snuggle into his side, his arm immediately wraps around you.

• Soft snores, not loud enough to wake you, but just enough to giggle at.

• Bed head in the morning is a sight to behold, especially if the person with the bed head is the Thai God of War

Yoroizuka Saw Paing

• SLEEP! HELL YEAAAHHHH

• You have to tell him to calm down because he won't be able to sleep if he's too excited for his next fight

• You've gotten used to him sleeping naked at this point, sometimes he'll just sleep in his usual shorts, or if you're luck, boxers

• He's tried to convince you from time to time to sleep naked, and sometimes it's worked... but you're usually the clothed one.

• a HEAT MACHINE I TELL YA. Sometimes it gets too much and you just throw off the blanket you share altogether.

• Snores sometimes, have a pair of earplugs on the nightstand just incase.

• As soon as you think he won't go to sleep, he does

• Looks like a dork while doing so

• He usually ends up halfway off of the bed in the weirdest pose ever.

Kanoh Agito

• Takes sleep very seriously

• Has a whole nighttime routine actually, he's incorporated you into it as well, consider yourself honored.

• Wears a satin button-up and boxers

• Smells amazing when he climbs into bed because he showers right before.

• The bed quite literally sinks because of his size and weight, so you obviously know which side is yours and which side is his.

• Needs you to talk to him in order for him to go to sleep. He used to stay wide awake until his body did a manual shut off. But then you came, and it's like music to his ears to hear you talk in a sweet, sleepy voice. Which soothes him right to sleep

• Asks you to hum some songs to ease his nerves.

• Yeah, he's a huge teddy bear.

• Didn't know what a goodnight kiss was until you did it. It's apart of his routine now to get a goodnight kiss, even though he didn't ask for one.

• Depending on the mood he's in, a goodnight kiss can be a peck on the forehead, or a passionate kiss on the lips. You can gauge between the 2.

• If he ends up on top of you in the morning, do not attempt to push him off. It will NOT work

Wakatsuki Takeshi

• He's a middle aged man, sleep is like vacation to him at this point.

• Won't drag you to bed with him, but makes it a good point to give you a reason to.

• "Come on sweetheart, I know you're tired"

• T-shirt and pajama pants for his usual attire. He looks damn good in them too.

• HUGE Cuddlebug. Literally, he's 6'4 (193 cm) and weighs 3x then what he should because of his sheer muscle density.

• Tell him if he's crushing you when he's resting ontop, he usually makes sure he doesn't though.

• When he looks up at you while resting his head in the middle of your chest makes your stomach do backflips. The best puppy dog eyes you've ever seen in your life.

• Seeing his usually furrowed and hardened gaze soften makes your heart sinnngggggg

• Softly running your nails over his back, scratching his muscles ever-so-slightly just makes his body untense. He's like puddy in your arms

• You could never worry about monsters under the bed when you've got him.

• Both of you fall asleep in unison. No questions asked

[absolutebl]

Hello! I discovered your blog relatively recently so forgive me if you’ve already done this but would you consider compiling a list of all the times crossdressing has been done in bl? Whether as a plot-device, for comedy, for serious reasons, just all the times crossdressing as a trope has appeared.

In a similar vein if you wanted to explore it I’d also be interested in the breadth of trans rep in bl/queer shows and movies in Asian media and if that ever blends into the crossdressing (maybe also drag would be interesting to throw into the mix as well?). Also just an exploration of Queer Femme characters that are not made fun of or villainized by the narrative would be cool! Basically just exploring femme queer aspects in bl in all its good, bad, and I’m sure sometimes ugly forms!

Hi, welcome! Ooo, crossdressing. Frankly I can't think of many and I don't have great recall on this one so I will have to ask the feed.

BL's With Crossdressing

Meet You At The Blossom (China 2024) - major plot point

Nobleman Ryus Wedding (Korea 2021) - historical, entire premise

Kieta Hatsukoi AKA My Love Mix-Up! (Japan 2021)

Love Stage (Japan 2020) - major plot point (better executed in the anime version)

Love Stage (Thailand 2022) - major plot point better executed than either Japanese version

About Youth (Taiwan 2022)

I Told Sunset About You (Thailand 2020)

Jack & Joker (Thailand 2024)

My Bromance the movie (Thailand 2014)

My Love Mix-up (Thailand 2023)

I Am Your King (Thailand 2017) - this is Mark Siwat's first BL, and yeah, he's the one cross dressing (he plays the femme rich boy in Jack & Joker)

The Sign (Thailand 2024) - historical costume for the girl of the past being played by a boy is a gender mix of female/male attire, it's very clever

YYY (Thailand 2022)

I feel like Gun has crossdressed in one of his. Theory of Love maybe?

Mr Cinderella (Vietnam 2022)

My Sky (Vietnam 2017) - trigger warning

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnam 2021) - major plot point

Moots et al...... other (older?) BLs with cross dressing?

Others worth noting

Either the representation or the BL is in question, or it's not exactly crossdressing it's something else. Still, some obscure ones just in case.

Wait For Me at Udagawachou AKA Udagawachou de Matteteyo (Japan 2015) - may be triggering involves body dysmorphia and fetishization of trans identity, but if you can you should watch this

Spring of Crush (Korea 2022) - this is a bromance

Rainbow Prince (Pinoy 2022)

DNA Says Love You (Taiwan 2022)

Great Men Academy (Thailand 2019)

3 Will Be Free (Thailand 2019)

Love Sick 2024 (Thailand) - made an aggressively male character from the original into a newly out 3rd gender/trans character in the new version, very intentional modernization choice, fascinating. Directly addresses dead naming among other things in the few scenes she has.

Saneha Stories series from Thailand

You should follow Cooheart on IG he does some fantastic gender bending and crossdressing styles. He's the fashion icon gift that keeps on giving.

Thai BL has tons of representation and use of characters/actors of Thai third gender, a lot of which is for comedy. Rarely if ever in BL more like Diary of the Tootsies. I would say my favorite and most beloved 3rd G rep is in The Sign. But that is is different than what you asked for.

Femme rep I have talked about before, most specifically in the context of Daisy in Secret Crush On You......

More Queer Lens & Thai BL 

BL Linguistics & Queer Identity I Am Gay versus I Like Men 

Husband Wife Language in Thai BL (SOTUS, TharnType + a lot of 2022 BL) 

Thai BL Lacks Representation of Butch & Transgender Men (and why this has to do with Thailand's 3rd Gender) 

Thai Military Service & Thai BL

Hope that helps.

(source)

[artyandink]

amoralism | three

Summary: You and Dean Winchester are the top agents from Major Crimes. You’re also assigned as partners on the same case- a crime syndicate is running loose and buying out most of downtown New York. He hates you cause you hate him. You hate him cause you think he got in his position with his daddy’s influence. But this case is personal to one of you more than the other- and you may be getting too personal for comfort.

TW: Organised crime, hostage situation, crime syndicate, sexual tension, fantasising, blood, firearms, references to sex, masturbation (use of vibrator and fingers) Agent Dean Winchester (yes, he’s a warning), hostage situation, crazy aunt and uncle

SERIES MASTERLIST

Song Inspo: Under the Influence - Chris Brown

cynicism

After you and Dean were out of the auction house safely, you found yourself getting a call from Sam, which had you wondering if the FBI kept cameras on you two to see if you’d finally given into the copious amounts of sexual tension.

“Agent Winchester.” You cleared your throat, wiping your smeared lipstick off with a makeup wipe. “Talk to me.”

‘We have a situation down on 7th.’ You heard him sigh out, and you could feel the forehead rub through the phone like it was your own. ‘Hostage situation. Our syndicate’s mark is on the front of the bank. You and Dean are the only two units in the area.’

“We’ll see what we can do.” You nodded, saying a quick goodbye before cutting the call and turning to Dean. “We have a situation.”

Dean perked up, stopping his boots from scuffing against the floor in wait. “Did Sammy pee himself? If so, we’re no longer brothers, he hadn’t done that since ninth grade.”

“What?! No!” You scoffed, pinching the bridge between your eyebrows. “Bank on 7th, it’s a hostage situation. Your brother needs us on the scene.”

“Oh, right.” He cleared his throat. “But we’re in, y’know, party clothes.”

“Oh, we’ll get a bulletproof vest, let’s just go.” You groaned, getting in the Impala, while he ran to the driver’s seat, getting in and the purr of Baby’s engine filling the empty street, tires screeching as you both drove off.

You and Dean walked up to the scene of the hostage situation, dressed in your party attire like a couple of melons, but you didn’t exactly bring a change of clothes in the Impala.

That’s why the cops looked sceptical until the badges came out from your thigh holster (Dean didn’t miss the way the guy at the caution tape looked at your bare thigh peeking out from the slit as you got your badge) and the inside pocket of Dean’s suit jacket.

“Well, I’ll tell you somethin’, agents, we’d need special forces in there.” Detective Quixley sighed, shaking his head. “Our criminals are in with the hostages. Refuse to come out, wanna keep an eye on ‘em. They threatened to empty their clips if SWAT stormed the building, and they have men on every exit.”

“They’re meticulous. Know what they’re doin’.” Dean sighed, fixing his cuffs. “We just came from an undercover gig. The lady and I can handle it, but we need bulletproof vests, refill clips and guns with attack damage and horsepower.”

“The recoil is gonna be pretty strong on those ones.”

“We don’t give a damn about recoil.” You cut in, strictly business now that you were on the scene. It was remarkable, how quickly you and Dean could switch. “The guns. And the vests. Quick.”

The tone you were using put some R-rated thoughts in his head, but he shook it off and plastered a smile just as Detective Quixley went away to arrange the guns and vests for the both of you.

“So authoritative.” Dean murmured to you in a lilting tone, a crap-eating grin on his face. “If you weren’t FBI, you’d make a good chef. Barking out orders-”

“Shut up or I’ll kick you where the sun don’t shine.”

“See? God, such a tightly-wound coil. You should release some of that tension. I’ve got a Thai place.” He chuckled under his breath, smirking. “Got a hand of glory there.”

“Workplace boundaries.” You groaned, holding a hand up to his face with disgust. “Really, TMI.”

“We broke workplace boundaries five years ago, sweetheart.” He quipped as you two received NYPD vests, strapping them on. “Well, sort of. We didn’t even breach first base.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “My job depended on first base. I’m not throwing that away for your dumb ass.”

“You wound me.”

“Good.”

You and Dean made your way to the bank’s easiest to access exit that wasn’t the front door, the sound of pacing footsteps telling you there was only one guy.

Your guns held ready, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you both made hand gestures to each other that made absolutely no sense.

You had to abandon all sense of hand signatures altogether.

You’d been much more in sync with the older Winchester five years ago. Before both of you had risen up the ranks. Where you were a growing Major Crimes agent and he worked Narcotics, and the two jurisdictions had to cross.

You two had definitely gotten along better then.

With the whiskey, the laughs, bonding over little siblings, the wet dreams, the near-kisses, the hot sexual tension that threatened to burst.

It’s like meeting after those years had cut the first part and left the second. Only the second.

The second part left you at odds, desperately trying to resist each other and overall frustrated from lack of contact. The contact you almost had five years ago.

God, there’s a hostage situation. Keep it together.

After a fairly obvious mouthing of the word ‘GO’ (Dean’s aggressive mouthing made it seem to be in capitals), you rushed in, grabbing the guard from behind with your arm around his neck so Dean could move in to knock him out.

The guard went limp, eyes rolling back and half lidded as you lowered him with a soft huff of breath as to not alert anyone else. Taking his walkie and his gun.

Dean Winchester laying someone out really did look sexy.

You continued on to the next room, this time Dean holding the guy to allow you to give him an early bedtime. Dean squatted, taking the walkie and gun, storing it in a thigh holster he’d procured.

Is it wrong to feel envious of a thigh holster?

Probably. But you couldn’t ignore the way that thing practically hugged the powerful muscle.

Your eyes even landed on the pout of his lips, the undeniably hot glint in his eyes as he looked down on the unconscious gang member.

“You ok?” You asked while Dean regained a steady breathing pattern, recovering from the onslaught of adrenaline while you did the same.

“Yeah. You?” You didn’t get the chance to answer that, feeling a bat-shaped impact on your back shoulder, sending you crashing to the floor. By the sounds of it, the SWAT team had taken advantage of the brief moment of weakness to storm the room containing the hostages and getting them out.

While you held your shoulder with a low groan, then attempting to push yourself back up, you saw a red headed woman swinging said bat for kicks while approaching Dean. Leather jacket, red-painted lips, leather pants and heeled boots.

She either completely disregarded necessary fighting clothes or she didn’t need them to beat your asses.

“Cheap shot.” You murmured, wincing at feeling tender skin under your vest. That would probably bruise bad, cold compress be damned.

Dean went down easily after a few parried shots from the lady, one leg swept from under him so he stumbled to his knees, her smoothing back his hair and grabbing the short strands in her fist, dropping the bat and grabbing his collar with the other. His hand flew to cover hers, a weak attempt to stop her from doing anything more.

“Dean Winchester.” She practically purred, her thumb rubbing circles into her scalp while she grinned, tongue tracing her teeth. “Famed daddy’s boy. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Dean smiled as cocky as he could while being womanhandled, chuckling. “Oh, I’m famous.”

“I had fun messing with John’s head.” She smirked, tilting her head. “He caved. I wonder if you will. It’s so… satisfying… when they do.” She added that in a murmur, trailing a painted finger down his jaw, having released his collar. “Be a good boy and let this one go for me. Or I could grab my knife, carve out a chunk of that pretty neck and see where it gets you.”

Dean’s eyes flickered to you, struggling to get up behind this random chick, wincing at the pain in your shoulder that you had a hand trying to stabilise, and realised he needed to stall. “Are you gonna kill me or are we gonna make out? Cause I’m gettin’ very mixed signals here.”

“Always such a flirt, aren’t you?” Whoever-This-Lady-Is chuckled, then smirked. “Who would I be if I didn’t introduce myself? Abaddon, handsome. The Knights of Hell say hi-” She was whipped around by you, the fist on your injured shoulder’s side connecting with her jaw. Abaddon’s head snapped to the side for a moment, but then you received the same treatment, your hand reaching to gingerly touch the corner of your mouth and wiping blood from the offending area.

Ah, Jesus.

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow, scoffing lightly. “Thought that’d do something?”

“Made you look.” You grinned, and Dean sprang into action, clamping metal handcuffs around her wrists after drawing them together. Abaddon looked up at you in shock and horror, which prompted you to use your good arm to help Dean push her down to the floor and keep her still.

“FBI.” Dean growled lowly, the timbre of voice sending a jolt through you (not the time, get your act together-) as you forced Abaddon to stop struggling and just lay still. “You’re under arrest.”

“I had that under control.”

That was all Dean could say as you held the cold compress to the back of your shoulder, wincing every time it shifted and put more strain on the bruised skin as you sat at the end of an ambulance. It made your blood boil.

“Gee, no problem for saving your ass.” You drawled back, rolling your eyes, which had Dean shifting uncomfortably before scoffing.

“I could take her.”

Your eyebrow raised to your hairline at that. “You mean the woman who- let’s see - had you by your hair and giving you some weirdly sexual innuendos? Yeah, you had it under control. And you can clearly take her one on one.”

Dean couldn’t help but note the sarcasm dripping off your words, and folded his arms with yet another light scoff. He deserved more respect in that regard. He was one of the best of Major Crimes.

He’d cuffed this supposed Knight of Hell.

“Shut up. What are you even doing, huh? First day working this organised crime thing and you’re already busted in the shoulder.”

“I’m doing my job!” You scoffed, holding the compress over your shoulder. It hurt to move it, honestly, but you’d rather take a banged up shoulder rather than Dean Winchester scolding you.

“And I’m not?” He retorted, hands on his hips. “We’re working this case together.”

“The only reason you’re even in Major Crimes is because daddy dearest pulled some strings.” You seethed, which had Dean bristling.

“That’s not how it went.”

“Then how?”

“What happened, princess, is that yes, my dad was your old CO.” Dean folded his arms, bulging biceps straining against the fabric of his suit sleeve as he did. Your eyes flicked to them, that spark of anger quenching for a moment before forcefully reigniting. “But I worked to get to the Major Crimes unit on my own. Just like Sammy did. Believe it or not, I ain’t just a pretty face.”

“And a hot ass.” A female police officer around your age purred in Dean’s ear as she went by, slapping said ‘hot ass�� firmly.

Dean’s eyes followed her own for a moment before he smacked down his tendencies for the sake of winning an argument.

“Emma. Old hookup.” He cleared his throat, then huffed out a breath. “There’s a point to where I’m goin’ with this. For us to work this case, sweetheart?” He gestured between you and him. “We need to sort whatever this is… out.”

“Last time I checked, we didn’t reach that point five years ago. Working this same case.” You deadpanned, your hand tightening on the compress. “I’d argue there’s nothing to sort out.”

“And if I say there is?”

“You know I never answered to you.”

His hands went on his hips. “Yeah, cause you’re Agent Know-It-All.”

“Finally, you’re catching on.” You quipped back, earning an eye roll from his part.

Like you mentioned earlier, the lack of whiskey fuelled bonding and laughing about sibling dynamics really takes a toll on a relationship built solely on how bad you wanna bang each other.

By God, Dean was hot when he was angry.

He was about to retort to your retaliation with equal snark when you heard your name being called from a distance. Your eyes locked on the guy, and a wide grin spread on your face. “Nicky?”

“Querida!” Sergeant Nick Santiago - and your cousin - approached you and gave you a tender hug (he was mindful of the bruise), laughing. “Oh, long time no see. And I love seeing that adorable face.” He pinched your chin affectionately. Nick was five years older than you, hence the smothering affection.

“Shuddup, you’re adorable.” You swatted his shoulder with a snort.

“No, me? I’m… ruggedly handsome.” Then he took your good shoulder. “Hey, I’m gonna need you to check on Aunt Lucy and Uncle Ernie. You know how it is, they’re insane if not handled and I think Aunt Lucy is getting into the tarot cards again.”

You huffed out a disgruntled breath, your nose scrunching up briefly in disgruntlement. Dean noticed, and stopped giving Nick a green-eyed-monster fuelled look to shoot you a genuine smile. “And last time those cards were used, Ernie was suspicious of everything.” You sighed, nodding. “Yeah, I’ll see if I can talk sense into them.”

“They always listen to you. Even if I’m the older one.”

“That’s cause I’m the favourite. But, seriously, I’ll have a look into it.”

Would you go to hell for this? Even worse, get fired?

Yeah, most likely.

Unprofessionalism only could reach an all time high when you found yourself alone in your bedroom, scissoring yourself open, one hand above your head and gripping the headboard, the other very obviously between your legs.

One foot flat on the mattress. The other leg stretched out on the bed, your sweats abandoned somewhere you didn’t bother to note.

Jaw slack, brow furrowed and eyes closed, vivid tapes of Dean’s mouth and fingers working you over playing on your closed eyelids. The tantalising, fabricated images having his name rolling off your tongue.

“I think you’re lookin’ gorgeous, princess.” He murmured, nose nuzzling your cheek as his finger trailed up your neck to gently cup your jaw, your back pressed firmly against his taut chest. Cupping your chin possessively while you didn’t lift your own finger to stop him, instead watched in the mirror while he drew you further into his dizzying arms. Interrupted only by the ring of Dean’s phone.

“Right there, Dean-” You cut yourself off with a moan, hips bucking against nothing, but letting your fingers brush your g-spot as they spread you open, “just like that.” Your hand released the headboard, your back arching and your planted foot allowing you to grind desperately against your own hand, catching your clit on the heel of your palm. While that newly released hand fumbled for your bedside drawer.

Said drawer was clumsily opened, your hand delving in and closing around something that had you screaming ‘bingo’ in your head and pulling your fingers out, leaving you empty and whining for more despite you being in control.

You could practically hear Dean telling you to take those fingers into your mouth and suck ‘em clean, but you decided to wait for that effortlessly sexy moment.

Wait for the real thing.

Dean thought he had you pinned on the mat, your hands trapped above your head in one of his, both your chests heaving after a long sparring session. His eyes flickering down to yours. “How’s that for a newbie, hm, sweetheart?” You smirked, and decided to answer by quickly using your legs to flip the position. You ended up on top, straddling his hips, and his hands held yours with a breathless chuckle and a possessive grip.

You flicked a switch on your vibrating dildo, your thighs twitching at the sound of the humming until you held them apart with your hand that was occupied prior to that moment, starting to push the toy in inch by inch.

“Dean,” You moaned, then cursed some very Jesus-disapproved words as the vibrations straight invaded your every sense, sending you straight to cloud nine.

Unprofessional, sure, but you didn’t regret a damn thing.

Once the dildo was all the way in- damn, you’d never been that full. And you welcomed the familiar buzz that took control of your ever action and had you grinding forward, pushing the toy in and out and meeting the self-orchestrated thrusts, knowing internally Dean would do it ten times better.

If not an FBI agent, he’d be a musician. Because he’d play you like a fine-tuned virtuoso violin.

“We… can’t.” You could feel his breath against yours. Your hand in his hair while the pads of his fingers put pressure on your waist through your blouse. Soft growls at the end of his every retrained pant as he resisted throwing you down onto that table and giving in to his primal urges. Damn, you brought the caveman out in him. One hand reached up to cup your cheek firmly, biting his plump bottom lip that you wanted to bite and suck on until it was swollen. “But… if we take five minutes. Just to take the edge off.”

Your free hand found your clit, rubbing in calculated, well-learned circles, paired with pleas of ‘Dean, right there’ and ‘don’t stop’ leaving your mouth, wishing it was his cock in you and not a piece of silicone.

Even if it did the job for now.

You worked yourself over and over, making yourself come over and over, climax after climax crashing down on your stressed, sexually pent up body until you were lying limp on the mattress, having lost count of how many times you’d said his name.

Dean.

Ah, home sweet home.

“Niñita!” Uncle Ernie cackled in happiness upon seeing you at the door, Dean with you since he had been working the case with you and had agreed to accompany you to see your mom’s Uncle Ernie. He gave a hearty pat on the back, ushering you in. “Adelante, adelante.” His eyes locked on Dean. “Who’s this?”

“Dean Winchester, sir.” Dean introduced with a swallow, which had Ernie’s mouth grimacing slightly.

“You could do better, mi diamante.” He complained in his Spanish accent and gravelly, grating tones.

“¡Ernesto, detente!” Aunt Lucy chastised, sashaying into the hallway with her bright, tortoise coloured shawl over her shoulders. “Es un chico muy guapo. Podría comérmelo.” That last part had your eyebrow raising to your hairline, while Dean got the message from the way Lucy practically purred at him and looked over his physique.

Ernie and Lucy themselves were quite the match.

Lucy, or Lucía in Spain or Spanish/Latino/anything native to the language’s company was tall- not as tall as Dean - with grey hair obviously styled by a hairdryer and rollers. She had blue eyes that matched her peacock personality, flaunting everything and her eyes looking everywhere on the nearest attractive single man’s body. Sometimes she didn’t know if a man was single and didn’t care otherwise. Dean was her unfortunate target today.

Ernie, otherwise called Ernesto, was a short man (Think Danny DeVito short), with thinning white hairs that was more bare skin than white fluff. He had a black, faux-fur robe with hot dogs on and mid-thigh length neon yellow shorts that would probably send a breeze up there if the wind blew around his ankles. Which were bare and clad in flip flops. Under the robe, he wore a ribbed white tank top. A chocolate granola bar stain on his cheek, and a disgruntled grimace stretching his white goatee-surrounded mouth as he looked up at Dean.

You knew they were an odd combination, especially with Ernie’s scepticism with everything they wasn’t his family.

“Ay, dios mío.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, clearing your throat. “Tía abuela-”

“Ay, no, es solo la tía.” Lucía waved you off, then smirked something sultry at Dean. “I’m the ripe old age of fifty, you know.”

You scoffed, hands on your hips. “Tienes setenta y seis años!”

“Arruinas mi diversión. Estuve a punto de pasar una noche en la cama con él.” She gave Dean a very obvious once over. And it put unholy images in your head. God bless innocence.

“Uf, no.” You groaned, trying to rub the images out of your head with two fingers at your temple as you all made your way into the kitchen. “Just… that’s not why I’m here. Las cartas del tarot, tía abuela.”

Lucía bristled, Spanish tones clipped and borderline anything but dulcet. “What about them?”

“You’re going to pull another ‘neighbour will kill me with their lawnmower’.” You huffed, remembering the incident all too well.

Ernie had waddled in at his top speed (which was slower than your normal walking pace) with wide eyes, claiming that the neighbour with murder him with their mower since Lucía ‘predicted’ he’d die by a spinning blade.

“¡Silencio!” She hushed with a flap of her hands, neon-green nails obvious in the lighting of the kitchen. “There is nothing wrong with my readings. They saved Ernesto’s life, no?”

“Eres imposible.” You groaned, rubbing your nose. Dean’s eyes landing on the scar across the bridge of it and swallowing, folding his arms. He’d rather not involve himself in the family drama.

“Lo sé.” She retorted, raising a threaded eyebrow.

Ernie sighed, taking Lucía by the arm with a patronising expression. “Creo que deberíamos dejar en paz a la pobre niña, Lucía. It’s almost time for that face thing you do.”

“It’s a skincare routine, Ernesto.” Still, she allowed herself to be whisked away.

“Yes, yes, that. My point remains, querida.”

Once you and Dean were alone, you cleared your throat. “Sorry about that.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair with a hand on your hip. “Aunt Lucy’s a handful. She gets her hand on anyone she can.”

Dean was part speechless. On one hand, he got flirted with by a seventy-six year old woman (at least, that’s what the body language told him), and on another, he got to hear you speaking Spanish.

He wondered if you could talk dirty to him one day in Spanish. Wishful thinking.

“Nick’s your… cousin, then, right?” He clarified, trying to stop the stirring in his gut. Down, boy.

“Yep.” You nodded, sighing. “He’s my cousin. My mom’s sister, whose real name is Elánora in Spain talk. She just changed it to a more American name and gave me and Cassie the same. Rick - Dad - he’s Ricardo.”

“Rick?” Dean grinned. “I’d have thought his nickname would be Di-”

“You absolute child.” You groaned, walking off.

“What? You gotta admit, it’s not the most unlikely thing in the world.”

You couldn’t help but moan and let your head fall forward, pressing your forehead against the cold desk to counteract the heat building up inside you until it clouded your mind and no desk would help you anymore.

Your hips rolling back desperately, seeking the friction - the feeling - only he could give you.

“So needy.” Dean chuckled from behind you, your skirt hiked up to your waist and his fingers buried to the knuckle in your soaked pussy, scissoring and curling when he felt like it. “Had a stressful day at work, hm?”

“Mmh,” Was all you could hum out at a response, meeting his thrusts and feeling the tension and/or stress in your body release with every brush against your g-spot but the very core of your body like a nuclear reactor, warming up and building up until your eyes were rolling back.

“Yeah.” Yet another low rumble of a laugh, but a kiss against your clothed shoulder, hot breath fanning over your skin. “Let me take care o’ that, baby. Of you. M’gonna make you feel so good you can’t walk straight. Want that, sweetheart?”

You whined out a response, which earned you a hum and the clinking of a belt buckle clinking, which had you bracing yourself on the edge of the desk. Dean’s calloused hands reaching to take a firm hold of your hips, lining the tip of his cock against your soaked entrance-

“Hey. Wake up.” What felt so much like a warm breath on your shoulder turned out to be the concerned hand of Sam Winchester, which had you groaning and reaching to rub your face with your own. Your eyes heavy and clearly riddled from sleep that you sorely needed to catch up on, but looks like it caught up with you. “You ok?”

You tried to snap yourself out of it, inwardly cursing at the fact that it was a damn dream.

What you wouldn’t give to have the stress and the overall lack of satisfaction that your pussy was giving you hell about the much needed relief by Dean goddamn Winchester.

Wishful thinking.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You sighed, then checked the time on your desk clock with weary eyes.

11:38 PM.

“We just finished cracking the tapes in the IT department.” Sam said softly, looking down on you with worry as well as the majestic mane of hair he possessed. Wishful thinking again, wondering if your hair could fall that perfectly into place. “We could have a look at it, but you’re nowhere in the right mind to try and make heads or tails of them. I think you should go home, Special Agent.”

“That’s bullcrap.” You scoffed, but then your eyes dropped again, sleep trying to lure you but failing as you snapped yourself back awake. “Yeah, I could use a bed.”

“I’ll drive you.” Sam took out his keys, helping you out of your chair (paired with some frantic yet muffled conversation), strong arms then moving you out of the building, into the parking lot and into his car.

It even smelled like Dean. Mm, old leather. Cologne, and whiskey. Beer.

A hand buckled you in, a calloused palm smoothing back the strands that dared be unruly and fall in front of your face. You lost track of time, but beefy arms lifted you up and away, into the safety of a familiar-smelling living room and then into an unfamiliar bedroom.

It wasn’t yours, but your tired mind remembered chucking a glass of water at someone in this very house.

The warmth of a blanket cocooned your body, tucked to your chin as your head nestled in some pillows. Succour of sweet sleep calling your name as you caught a ‘Sleep well, sweetheart’ from somewhere that could be the door before all light was shut out entirely.

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed, in unfamiliar sheets that smelled like… old leather. Cologne. Whiskey, both cheap and expensive with notes of beer. On your stomach, one leg bent and you were still in your office attire.

Note that you usually wear trousers and a blazer to the office in DC. Yesterday was one of those days.

“Sammy told me you’d knocked out at the office.” A low chuckle - one that always made your pussy throb and ache - had you more awake than you would openly admit. Dean was leaning on the door, no shirt, just grey sweatpants.

Every contour of his post-workout toned chest showing to you and making your mouth go dry. You wanted to stain that chest with your lipstick.

Maybe you’d wear your most bold red for the occasion.

“Did you kidnap me?” You scoffed, sitting up fully clothed in the bed, the only article of clothing off being your shoes. Touché.

Dean snorted, shaking his head. “‘Course I kidnapped you. I’ve got nothin’ better to do, sweetheart. Nothing other than kidnap my colleague.” He stepped further into the room, his attire reminding you of your almost-kiss five years ago.

His lips inches from yours. Your hand in his hair. His beginning to massage the flesh of your waist. Hot breath fanning over each other’s lips, eyes locked on them too through fluttering eyelashes.

“Just five minutes, sweetheart. To take the edge off.”

You should’ve taken that five before Sam rang his damn phone.

Oh, God, get it goddamn together.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” You rolled your eyes, which had him chuckling and shaking his head. Still shirtless. Which still made him the most irresistible man on the planet. He always was; who were you kidding?

Even through your irritation, you couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Sammy didn’t think it’d be safe to be home alone, not after Abaddon could have somehow given our IDs to her buddies, the Knights of Hell.” He shrugged. “So I volunteered to bring you back here.”

“Have you slept?”

“A couple hours.”

“And here I am, knocking out until…” You checked the time, “9 the next morning. Ain’t fair, Winchester.”

“I took a knockout nap right after that whole Abaddon fight, hostage situation ordeal.” He laughed, grinning widely. “I’m good on that part. About a ten hour nap; it messed up my sleep schedule. At least, Sammy calls it a sleep schedule.” Then he closed the door and beckoned you over. “Show me your shoulder, c’mon.”

“Is this necessary?” You huffed, but you were unbuttoning your blouse anyway, shrugging off your suit jacket.

Just Dean’s luck that there was only a simple black sports bra there. If it was lace, he’d have you on that bed in milliseconds. “‘Course it is, don’t be a baby.”

“You’re a baby.” You scoffed as you turned around, letting him inspect the blue, part swollen skin. He drew air in his teeth as he looked at it, then hummed.

“I’ll ice that later.” He murmured, trailing his fingers delicately over the skin before pulling his hand back. But instead of letting you put your blouse back on, he stopped you and helped you put it on, but his fingers paused at the buttoning phase, not starting it. His fingers didn’t have it in him. Every brush of his fingers on your heated skin sent jolts through both of you every time he tried to grow a pair and do it for the sake of professionalism.

His lips were right there. You could feel them against yours if you wanted to. Or you could guide them to your neck.

You were pretty sure Dean had that idea when his arm hooked around your waist and tugged your body flush against his, your nose slotting perfectly against his. Your hands instinctively flying to his chest.

Dean’s breath hitched as he felt the contact on his bare skin, licking his lips and biting the bottom as he traced every detail of your face. Your stunning eyes, staring up at him through thick eyelashes, halfway on the journey to closing. The curve of your nose and the scar across the bridge that came with it. The shadow of your cheekbone, line of your jaw and your lips.

God, your lips.

Dean could see every dip and curve of your top and bottom lip from that angle, the slight pout before they parted, showing him a sliver of tongue that made him wish it would lave at his chest. Your lips were a temptation that had his arm wrapping tighter around your waist and his hand resting over your exposed navel.

So close to the waistband of your trousers.

He couldn’t stop focusing on your lips, however boring it may seem to recite it over and over. They were full, but not too plump- in a way that had him wanting to kiss them until they were swollen and his. Wanted them to look pretty and bear his mark. He’d do that to your neck too… if he could. Cover every freckle he could see.

You weren’t faring much better. You could see every freckle lining his face and the pout of his pink lips as he contemplated what to do next. Whether to ravish you - finish what you both started - or to leave you hanging for the sake of professionalism. You saw the sharp contour of his cheekbone and jawline, and the smooth skin of his chest under your hands pressed further into the touch with a barely held sigh, heartbeat pounding against your fingertips.

Fast. Desperate. Wanting.

Your attention diverted from him to glance down at his abs - damn, those abs - and his v-line disappearing into the low-hanging fabric of his grey sweatpants that he wore in this exact same situation five years ago.

You couldn’t think of anything more cliche but there was nothing more hot.

You felt his fingers wrap around and grasp your chin, moving your gaze back up to lock with his and god, were you transfixed. Your breath caught before it left your mouth. Breaking the pattern you’d worked so hard to maintain. It’d break you and then you’d let him lay you down and wreck you.

“Keep those eyes on me, princess.” He murmured, still gently holding your chin and thumbing your bottom lip. Keeping his eyes on you as well. “Don’t take ‘em off.” You wanted to protest. You’d be putting your job in jeopardy if you carried on like this any longer.

But it felt so damn good.

The push, the pull, the heat, the want, wanting what you could so obviously have because he wanted you too. It was all so intoxicating you got lost in it. In him.

Dean Winchester would send you to hell. Even worse, get you fired. But you’d thank him for it.

NEXT UP:

“Being a Knight of Hell makes you bitter.” He swept a thumb over his bottom lip, scoffing and shaking his head slowly. “You do horrible things. To innocent people, too. Most of us enjoyed it. I didn’t. That’s why I ran.”

You rubbed your cheek, sharing a look with Sam, who looked both incredibly concerned and curious. Not only was this syndicate dangerous, they took inspiration off Bible lore, which was how they contracted their code names.

“And your code name was Cain?” You asked, gesturing to him with a raise of your eyebrow. “As in… Cain and Abel? And your real name is William Abernathy?”

“Abel was my brother’s supposed ‘codename’.” William, previously ‘Cain’, deadpanned, sipping some bourbon with a blank expression. “Gave it after his death. Thought it was funny. They thought the same for my beautiful Collette too.”

Like, comment or reblog! I’d love to hear your feedback. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

TAGLIST:

@goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff

@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510

@lucyholmes13 @pandadork-blog1 @nicolstancu @malusinhaaaa @dybalabandolero

@a-cup-of-nightshade @tomatoessoup @sh0rtcakee @fall-06 @mckaykay-fandoms

@b3th13

@demonxangelomegaverse @deanwinchestersgirl87 @capailluiscedove @i723l-interrupted2323 @niyomiii

@all-the-fan-fic @eviekinevie8 @sunflowerlover57

@1-800-dean-winchester

@darichvep @idk-usernme @supernaturalmarvel3000 @ega2025 @deanbrainrotwritings

@targaryenluvs @bucky-hydra-hoe-barnes @leigh70 @aintnowayboi @ripoffsteveharrington

@gleefulleve @sacrosankta

@riteofpassage77 @eevvvaa @thedevilortheangel @thorsballhair @barbienotdoll

@4e1h3r @wolfieblue03 @kianaleani @vicky199625 @sassyslut2003

@impyrz

@didisull @miwp @lastcallatrockysbar @rizlowwritessortof

@zepskies @angelbabyyy99

@autisticgothic

@yourgoldengirls @deansobsessedgirl @mrsjenniferwinchester

@aylacavebear @lailawinchesterr @brightlilith @arcanaa @hobby27

@lyarr24 @ximm19

@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester

@k-slla @muhahaha303 @suckitands33

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

To be added to any character’s taglist of mine, find my form on my master list.

Like what I’ve written? Let me know!

Why do we reblog/send in asks with feedback?

This tends to make the author more invested in writing their own series.

If they think ‘hey, people actually like what I’ve written and are writing small paragraphs/quoting my story and writing lengthy paragraphs on how they feel’ then they’re more likely to put more fics and chapters out for you.

I’d really appreciate it if y’all do that and the same goes for any other writer on here. Reblogs are worth a lot more than likes on here!

[perfectlypanda]

When visiting the many islands that comprise the Fire Nation, it was not uncommon for their royal majesties Fire Lord Zuko and Master Katara to don the traditional dress of the host island.

Almost as soon as I had finished working on the art piece I did with Zuko and Katara in Thai inspired outfits, I knew I wanted to do something similar but with outfits inspired by the Philippines (or outfit, sorry Zuko I find women's fashion more interesting than men's).

Before jumping into the commentary, I'll stress that this design is fantasy inspired by the Philippines. Although I did research, it is not an accurate representation of Filipino national costume, nor is it meant to be.

This was more challenging in some ways than the Thai piece, because even though the Thai piece required a ton of detail work, I was creating a design much closer to its real world inspiration. In this case there wasn't a specific "look" I was trying to recreate, instead I wanted to create a design inspired by the traditional fashion of the Philippines. However, 1). pre-colonial fashions were very different from the Spanish inspired styles that arose during colonialization and that have since evolved into modern traditional Filipino attire, and 2). the Philippines is home to many different indigenous groups, each of whom have their own traditional costumes.

Originally, I wanted to exclusively look to the pre-colonial period for inspiration, but when I looked only at pre-colonial designs, I found I missed the iconic silhouettes seen in modern Filipino dresses. So I widened my research scope to see how I could combine pre-colonial with elements of modern fashion.

For pre-colonial styles, the best historical resource is the Boxer Codex. Karakoa Productions was also a helpful resource to see how pre-colonial looks were being interpreted from historical illustrations and descriptions into real world garments. I looked at modern designers from the Philippines to see how they were playing with the design of terno (which often feature the iconic butterfly sleeves I wanted to include). One design I was really inspired by was a look worn by Filipina actress Kathryn Bernardo.

Both written and illustrated accounts of the pre-colonial era in the Philippines emphasize the prevalence of golden jewelry, so Katara has a gold necklace, bracelets, hair beads, and belt. Katara's belt is inspired by two main sources. The first is an extant kandit (royal belt) woven from gold wires in the Museo ng Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas's pre-colonial gold collection. The dangles on it are loosely inspired by the beaded belts made by the T'Boli people.

With Katara's skirt, I tried to blend the longer style of skirts seen in the Boxer Codex, with a striped pattern inspired by the numerous woven designs I found in traditional indigenous attire. The specific photo I used as inspiration was labeled as being from Kalinga, but I found similar weavings from other groups as well.

The flowers in Katara's hair are flowers found in the Philippines - sampaguita, waling-waling orchids, plumeria, hibiscious, and santan. She also wears her dual moon-flame tiara.

♥ Please do not repost. If you like it and want to show people, share a link to this page instead. Thank you!

[peterman-spideyparker]

In Suspense (Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey lovelies! Because I was indecisive and didn’t know what fic to post first, I let a Tumblr poll decide out of three, and this one was the winner! I admit, it’s a bit self-serving, but good gravy I love this man. Enjoy! :)

Summary: Matt’s riding a high from a good day in court, and you’ve had a crappy day—your only perk having been being able to work from home. When Matt finally gets to the loft and you catch a glimpse of a particular piece of attire, you just can’t help yourself.

Warnings: Domestic fluff, established relationship, smut (oral—m and f receiving, needy and a bit rough, unprotected p in v sex, praise/Matt bring flirty and cocky, creampie), swearing/dirty talk

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 1,937

“Hey sweetheart,” you hear Matt call as he enters the loft. 

“Matt!” you say surprised, putting your laptop on the table and moving over to meet him halfway. His glasses, briefcase, and cane have all been discarded by the door, and he begins to loosen his tie. “Court let out early?”

“Yep,” he smiles, placing his hands gently on your waist as he pulls you in for a sweet kiss. “It also helps that it was a Friday afternoon and that I caught the prosecutions’s star witness in a lie during cross, got a confession on the stand, and saved my client from a wrongful imprisonment.”

“Matt, that’s amazing!” you cheer, wrapping him in a big hug. There’s a wonderful, prideful glow about him, feeling a strong sense of pride for what he was able to do for his clients. You mirror his joy, feeling nothing but admiration and amazement for him and how he helps the people who really need it. You press a sweet kiss to his cheek before you lean back and look at him, running your fingers through his hair as you cradle the back of his head. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“I do like the challenge of one-upping myself.”

You give him another kiss before you run your hands down his arms.

“I’m gonna clock out early and I’ll run down the the little market a couple of blocks over and I’ll get what I need to make your favorite for dinner. Tonight, we’re celebrating.”

“I think we can achieve that same level of celebration with some takeout. Now it’s just a matter of deciding the kind of cuisine.”

“Well, now, that’s something for the man of honor to decide.”

“Personally, I don’t think we can ever go wrong with Thai.”

“Then Thai it is,” you beam. “Usual?”

“Usual.”

“Now that you’ve heard about my day, how was yours, sweetheart?”

“Not nearly as eventful as yours,” you sigh. “Long. Stressful. Not things Fridays should be.”

“I’m sorry, angel. But the day is almost done, I’m home, and no one can give feel-better cuddles like me. Actually, Foggy probably could.”

“He is a master snuggle bear. But I have my cuddle devil on call whenever I need him.”

“Damn right, you do,” he confirms with a long, sweet kiss and a quick smack to your butt before you both move toward the kitchen. As you walk, he takes off his suit jacket, and you stop mid-movement when you catch what’s underneath. 

“Matty, are you wearing suspenders?” you ask, feeling a blush rush to your cheeks while you watch him roll up his sleeves to his elbows. 

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t suspenders more of a tuxedo piece of attire for you?”

Matt gives a little shrug and pout of his lips. “I just felt like mixing it up today.”

“Well,” you breathe, closing the space between Matt and you once more. “In the interest in mixing it up, I think we should continue with the theme.” Matt’s eyebrows arch in confusion and anticipation as that beautiful lopsided smirk graces his lips. Hooking your thumbs under the elastic, gently sliding them down the fabric and stopping at the middle of his pecs, barely an inch between your faces. “Dessert before dinner?”

The smile that curls on Matt’s lips and the mischievous glint in his eye speaks louder than words as he pulls you in for a panty-soaking kiss. You moan into his mouth and pull his body impossibly close to yours by the textured fabric of his suspenders. 

“This really does something for you, huh?” Matt chuckles against your lips.

“Oh, yeah, Matty,” you hum, running your hands up and over his shoulders. “You have no idea what this does for me.”

Feeling the soft locks of his hair, you cup the back of his head and pull him back into you the short distance for another deep kiss, causing your bodies to fall onto the couch. With the solid flop on the couch making squeaky leather sounds, you both giggle into the kiss as you continue to embrace. As Matt’s hands cradle your face, he chases your lips, planting big, quick, open kisses on you that make your lips tingle. You move to unbutton his crisp white shirt, feeling his soft scarred skin underneath the soft cotton fabric.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” you murmur into his mouth before he pulls back and sucks on your neck, marking you up for all to see. 

“I guess I should wear suspenders more often,” he nips at your earlobe. 

“Then we’d be doing this all the time.”

“I’m not opposed to that, angel—don’t put the idea in my head.”

You smile and giggle as you move in for more kisses, moaning as his hands glide up your body and his tongue explores your mouth. 

“Mmm,” you whimper as you grind against him. His grip tightens on your hips, pushing the fabric of your shirt up on your skin. You pull your lips from his and suck marks into his neck, sucking at his earlobe occasionally. “Wanna suck you off. Wanna bounce on your cock, too.”

Matt slides his hands over your body, squeezing your breasts before running his fingers through your hair, holding you incredibly close as he kisses you, letting you sneak down between his legs, freeing him just enough from his pants and boxers where you can give him a few pumps and swallow him whole—the fact that he’s still relatively soft making the entire thing easier. Matt moans in delight as you drag your lips up and down his shaft, tracing the prominent vein in his cock with the tip of your tongue, further using it to your advantage as you lick the underside of the mushroom head before kissing the tip of his cock slowly, your lips wrapping around the hot, pink flesh. 

Your time on your knees with Matt down your throat doesn’t last long, as he pulls you up and leans your body backward on the sofa so you’re completely at his mercy. He pulls his lips from yours and presses kisses down your neck and exposed collarbone before pulling your shirt off of your body. 

“No bra, sweetheart?” he chuckles as his hands settle on your exposed ribcage, his thumbs brushing just under your breasts. 

“No need—perks from working at home,” you smile as you run your hand through his hair. 

“Works great for me,” he says with a lick of his lips, dipping his face down, taking one of your breasts into his mouth while his hand grabs at the other one. Your back arches as you moan loudly into the apartment, Matt sucking at your nipple and licking at the supple flesh. You feel him roll your other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, getting it nice and pebbled before putting his mouth on it, mimicking the motion with the other nipple. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, your tits are so perfect,” he pants as he kisses you right above your racing heart. Taking your breasts in his large hands, he pushes your breasts together, burying his face right into them and moaning into the skin. 

“Matty,” you whine. “Fu . . . Ooh. Matty, eat me out. Please, Matty, need your mouth on me.”

Matt kisses your neck again before pulling off, making quick work of your pants. You lean up, pulling his shirt off and throwing it somewhere in the living room before he guides you back down and spreads your legs wide, grazing his hands over your aching core before sliding two fingers into you, pumping them just so.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he coos. “Shit . . . So fucking wet f’me, too.”

Dipping down, he wraps his lips around your clit and you moan, arching your back and tossing your head to the side as he eats you out and stretches you wide. 

“Matt!” you cry. “Matty! Fuck . . . Fuck, baby, I need your cock.”

“Thought you wanted my mouth?” he hums into your core. 

“Matt, please! ‘M gonna cum. Wanna do it on your cock.”

He slowly pulls his fingers from you and kisses up your body. “Of course, baby. You’re such a good girl. I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart, I’ll give you my cock.”

Completely ridding himself of his suspenders and slacks, the fabric blend joins the rest of your clothes on the floor. He pumps himself in one hand while he uses his other to adjust you on the couch, pinning you in a pocket of the cushions that creates the most comfort for the both of you. Tapping your pussy with his dick a few times, he gathers up the slick dripping from between your legs and slowly pushes all the way in, your moans harmonizing in the apartment as he moves to completely bottom out. His lips move against yours in a passionate kiss, the both of you doing your darnedest to chase your desires. As you go back and forth, Matt starts fast, shallow thrusts, hitting everything just right.

“Feel so good like this,” he breathes against your neck. “Perfect, angel. Made for me.”

“Right there!” you squeak as you try to hold onto his back, your nails scratching at his soft, scarred skin. “Right there, Matty! Just like that!”

The leather of the cushions squeak as the feet of the sofa scratch against the old hardwood of the loft with each of Matt’s thrusts. Your moans and cries of pleasure come out of you on their own volition as Matt ruts into you over and over. You hold onto him as you feel your orgasm build, and you cling to him as if your life depends on it when you finally feel your release wash over you. He holds onto you and gives you the support you need as you experience nothing but pleasure, his hips keeping a relatively steady pace as he cums inside of you shortly after you clench around his length, pushing the hot ropes of his release deep inside of you. 

“Mm, congrats on your win, counselor,” you hum, completely blissed out as you kiss his forehead, temple, cheek, and finally his lips.

Matt gives you a happy-hazy smile as he kisses the expanse of skin from your shoulders up to your neck.

“Sorry you had a crappy day, angel,” he says with a kiss to your sweet spot.

“It’s been less crappy since you got home.” That’s when it hits you, and you can’t help but laugh. “Oops.”

“What?” Matt chuckles into your neck, pressing a kiss into one of the hickies he left on your skin.

“I didn’t clock out—I just had sex and got paid.”

“Like a prostitute?” he offers, only making the pair of you laugh harder.

“Oh my—not funny!”

“Objection—it’s hilarious. Can you imagine?”

“Okay, sustained,” you laugh as you roll into him, resting your head on his muscly arm, the image he put in your head truly too ridiculous to not be funny. 

“C’mon. Clock out so when this happens again later—.”

“‘Again later’?”

“Yeah. I’m still in a celebratory mood, and I’ve gotta make sure my girl forgets all about her crappy day.”

You hum in agreement as Matt kisses your forehead once more, adjusting you so you can get cozy on the couch together in his arms. Moving as little as you can from him, you grab your phone and clock out, kissing along the lines of a red angry scratches you left in his skin as he holds you close, making sure you both recharge for round after round tonight.

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​

[bluemoonperegrine]

The Happiness You Bring

Several of us in the Werewolf By Night fandom have been hard at work on our own continuation of the special. Fifty-two minutes of magic and mayhem were not enough!

Please enjoy our silly, angsty, sometimes sappy, and occasionally violent collaboration. The fun begins moments after the special ends.

Here's the start.

Chapter 1: Finders Keepers

Jack clutched his stolen hunter’s cloak shut with one hand and reached out with the other to grasp the steaming sunflower mug. The aroma of the coffee Ted had made for him flooded his nose. Warmth bloomed inside him, both from the beverage and his partner’s thoughtfulness.

Hours ago, in the Bloodstone mausoleum, he’d groused about Ted being a pain in the ass he often had to save. It was true, but he’d said it with both frustration and affection; the swamp creature thought the same of him, Jack knew. Life had dealt them both a challenging hand of cards, but together they were making the best of it.

Jack shivered at the chill of cold morning air where it crept through the gap at the front of the cloak, and he turned his eyes to assess the small campfire as he sat down on the log and sipped at his coffee. The fire would burn itself out before long. If this had been a normal full-moon transformation, Ted would have brought Jack’s backpack, and he’d have warm clothes to change into, but the cloak had been the best they could manage under the circumstances.

Ted had built the den, and the fire, and had watched over him while he slept, and Jack felt a flush of gratitude. Whatever the air temperature, the mornings when he wasn’t alone always seemed a little warmer. “Let’s do sushi,” he said, impulsively. “I owe you that. Yes.”

I’m in the mood for pho, Ted rumbled, so a Thai place that also does sushi.

Jack took another swallow, shifting his bare feet to rest them on top of a few folds of black wool and red silk. This wasn’t exactly restaurant attire, but probably there would be a clothesline somewhere he could raid before they got food. “Yeah, you choose.”

How? Ted’s contrabass slurred. I don’t know where we are!

Read the rest on ao3.

[dr-hanwool]

the regular

Timeline: 2024 November 2nd, Saturday, late night. Location: The Playroom, Bangkok. Mood: Excited to see his obsession Rain again Attire: See this post. Man is HANDSOMEEEEE! With: @poorlboy Music: Easy by Jaehyun, which is playing low in the background of The Playroom

It was another warm night in Bangkok when Kim Han-wool made his way down the dark streets to the destination he had had in mind for hours. His surgery was open at reduced hours on the weekend, but he had to stay over time tonight since there were an influx of patients today. As soon as Hanwool finished signing off on the final prescription of the evening, he closed up shop and headed on home to his condo, wanting to shower and get ready for the next - and more exciting part - of the night.

The Playroom had been an area he frequented now that he was living in Bangkok. In his previous visits, he never dreamed of entering such a place. His strict upbringing and no-nonsense attitude would never have allowed him to set foot in an escort establishment, or even call for one to entertain him for the night. But after having permanently relocated, it was time for a change. The old him died alongside his first love, for whom he still grieved over.

Bangkok was a fresh start, in so many ways. By day, his practice was booming. There were many Koreans living in Thailand, a few who were still settling into the country, so they were thankful to be able to speak in their native tongue when it came to their medical problems, which could be difficult to translate into Thai.

By night however, Hanwool would explore the city he loved on his visits here throughout his life. He went to the night markets, talked to strangers, visited bars and clubs - all things he should have done in his twenties, back when he was young, that he never allowed himself to do.

The Playroom would not have been his choice of club, if Hanwool was being honest with himself. He'd never have thought about it at all, if it weren't for a fleeting image he saw, of a man who looked far too familiar entering through the double doors. Hanwool had been like a man compelled, following the stranger into the establishment. He had no idea what he had walked into, eyes widening at the decor, the place almost menacing with its dim lighting and obviously adult theme - but he had to see the man again, no matter what.

He resembled Yeong too much...

Since that day, Hanwool had become a regular at The Playroom - but only for him. Sometimes he'd visit once a week; other times, when he was busy, it would be less frequent. Sometimes he'd come alone; sometimes he'd come with friends. But the one constant in his experience at the establishment was the escort whose name typed into the online booking slip, the autofill doing its technological magic to make sure the name RAIN stared back at him through his phone screen.

When Hanwool entered the club, he was greeted warmly by the man he knew now as the manager. He didn't need to be read the rules, or told where to go. A simple nod of his head, indicating that his booking had been received, was the only communication needed before Hanwool wandered over to the red and black booths. He slipped inside, unbuttoning the top of his shirt, allowing himself to relax. He waited for his escort, trying not to obviously glance around for the man, his fingers drumming on the table in anticipation.

[buckevantommy]

Now that we're exactly a month away, what are your expectations for s8?

From the hubbub behind the scenes i think we can expect a few things regarding buck and tommy:

217 + 118 interacting in front of their engines in the hangar before driving off to meet the major incident at the airport, likely a plane that's about to crash-land (8x01 or 8x02)

bucktommy date night at the Italian restaurant where they had their first date

scenes at tommy's little house

tommy in his flightsuit

fancy-ish attire for either a date or 118 event, possibly belated madney backyard wedding reception

hurt!tommy

in terms of things i want for bucktommy, meaning: what would make sense not only for their characters and relationship but to be on par with what we've seen from other couples in the show:

working together on calls.

more kisses.

pda both lowkey and flirty.

some kind of sex scene, whether it's a foreplay kiss on the couch or in bed, or post-coital cuddles.

buck referencing his relationship with tommy and explicitly saying 'boyfriend'.

buck embracing/exploring his bisexuality (and saying 'bisexual'!) ie. conversations with tommy and hen, going to a queer club or event, or at least spouting facts featuring queer people and subjects through history.

harbor characters, and tommy's friends.

some kind of tension/worry/drama; whether it's about tommy being hurt, something relating to gerrard, something in tommy's life, etc.

tommy being vulnerable/emotional, especially with buck.

tommy spending time with other members of the extended 118 fam.

taking the next step ie. I Love Yous, keys to each other's places, possibly buck moving in with tommy (goodbye to the loft?).

in terms of everyone else, we don't really have much to go on, but i have some wishlist items inspired by bts intel:

eddie back in therapy, pushing people away but hopefully having an outlet ie. muay thai with tommy, running, dirtbiking, pottery class, volleyball, whatever.

eddie's moustache sticking around for at least a few episodes, hopefully until about midseason. its going to have some kind of narrative purpose that needs to be resolved before it's gone.

bathena building their new home. her ex is an architect and they're finally over that last trauma hurdle that now is the perfect time to build something new and lasting for them.

chris' return in the second half of the season. eddie will probably visit him in texas but i hope chris will return before the end of the season. but maybe the season will end with eddie moving to texas (temporarily).

eddie's sisters would be great.

henren going through it but ultimately getting to adopt mara.

ortiz gets dethroned. gerrard gets fired for good or dead.

madney second baby would be great, or at least a pet of some kind.

i have no idea about ravi because he was barely in season 7 and it seems like he might not be in season 8 much?

people are saying (based on other abc promos dropping atm and considering airdates) we should get a teaser trailer soon, and i think all our theories and wishlists will change when that happens!

[angel-therandomthing]

Full trailer breakdown for helluva boss season 2 (part 1)

1) at the start of the trailer we see a group of hooded figures that say “come out we have got you surrounded” probably, knowing blitzø, gotten into deep shit with a cult of some sort and blitzø probably owes them money

2) in the next frame we see the gang in there van with moxie and blitzø talking

Moxie: we’re are we going

Blitzø: anywhere but here, get ready for a life on the run gang

*blitzø crashes the van into a pole*

Moxie: I fucking hate you so much blitzø

First get the obvious stuff out of the way. They are on the run from what I think would be the cult from the start of the trailer indicating that they are most probably FUCKED. And judging from the fact that full moon (the next episode we are going to get) seems to be about stolas and blitzø relationships I will except that this episode will be apology tour (coming in June) and I also expect this because as you will see in a bit I am pretty sure that I got each episode correct for what parts are in it. But my favourite part of this is that moxie calls blitzø instead of sir and we don’t know why yet so it would make sense that Thai isn’t that first episode to be released but the second.

3) moxie talks about Business being at a peak and that it would be disastrous to lose what they worked for now. Which is making me think that blitzø is going to do something stupid sending back profit. Knowing that I recon that that is a scene from the last episode sinmas (coming out in December to go with the Christmas spirit)

4) in this part we see blitzø and moxie standing in front of a smashed car that looks to be there’s. We can also see different spray paint on the car that could indicate that they will get a new van (if them crashing the van at the start wasn’t a good indicator) we can also see blitzø in a ghostbusters looking back pack with a vibrator in hand( why I don’t know). Behind all that we can see witherd trees probably apart of a new ring. And giving that the rings are based off the seven deadly sins I would guess it is sloth or envy (giving that we have been to wrath, pride, greed and lust).

5) we can see fizz holding a giant blurred out thing (knowing him a sex toy) with blitzø win a bow tie in the corner. The background consists of what is Ozzie’s home , also we’re fizz lives. And giving blitzøs unusual attire I will guess that this is the sinmass.

6) this one is more of a small one. We can se stolas sitting on his bed looking all depressed. Now all I can take out of this is that this has something to do with the full moon episode (OUT NEXT MONTH. Going to do a break down and a couple of theory’s on that when it releases) BUT WHAT DID BLITZØ DO TO MY STOLAS!?

7) we can see moxie jumping over a bunch of rocks away from a explosion. From what I can see without any dialog to back me up here is this connected to a scene later on and that moxie is in the list ring. I recon it is most likely sinmas because as we saw earlier blitzø was with fizz in the lust ring.

8) I am not really going to count this since it’s just them jumping out of a portal using stolas book so this would be at that beginning of full moon before stolas gives blitzø the sucubass crystal( if you missed that watch season 2 episode 5 and the look my way music video)

9) now we see the stupid fucking cherubs come back. But this time they have been caught by the freaks from the D.O.R.K.S. Having a conversation

Unnamed male dork from season 1: so why would a bunch of angels be looking for demons

Cherub: we lay and wait for them to return to earth so we might smite them once and for all

Agent who: we would need someone with more experience

With this I’m guessing that the Dorks and cherubs are going to team up

10) we now see blitzø using a sucubass crystal to teleport to the mortal world (the one stolas got in look my way so this would be after full moon) giving the dorks finger guns and winking that them probably to tawnt them. But what is interesting is the background behind blitzø being all red which is going to then be in imp city but not in there office signaling that they could be in the run. From all this I recon this one and the next two and previous one are all from the same episode being, drum roll please 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁, master mind (airing in November which is sad because it is the most interesting looking one

Atlas I can only use 10 photos so I will post this now and work on part 2

[lirotation]

I Hail From Silverymoon: The Sway

Pov My little Fanfiction Astarion X Amaara Ashvale (My Wizard Tav)

Your wish is my command

It was obvious to everyone Amaara was smitten with Astarion. Just look at that dreamy smile that graced her lips and that adoring gaze she often cast his way! Shadowheart had even commented that their affection was becoming sickening.

Initially, Astarion had only seduced Amaara as a matter of self-preservation. He sought to win over a useful ally against potential threats. But he soon became aware of just how thoroughly the young mage had fallen for his charms. He decided to see what he could make her do, now that she regarded him with such trusting, enamored eyes...

One night as Amaara and Gale tallied inventory, the vampire spawn strolled up.

"Darling, the vendor in the grove has this exquisite enchanted leather armor. I've been thinking that it might suit me better. My current attire is too flashy for effective stealth, you see." he purred, "Could we get them tomorrow?"

Amaara looked up from her task, her face lighting up with that familiar smile. "Alright, I'll make sure to get it for you tomorrow."

He continued, letting a hint of needfulness enter his voice, "And there's also an enchanted dagger available. With it, I could offer you an even greater level of protection."

Amaara's response was almost immediate, her dedication unwavering. "What else do you require? Tomorrow, we'll head over and get everything you need."

Gale frowned, his disapproval evident in his voice. "Amaara, we can't simply spend all our coins like that. We must allocate enough for essential supplies."

"I'll go out to gather herbs right now. I'll craft some potions tonight and barter with Arron tomorrow," Amaara assured him, “Don't worry, Gale. I've already set aside ample coins to secure your next magic artifact. You'll be taken care of."

With that, she swiftly departed from the camp. The two men were left alone, and Astarion chuckled, "For someone with good intentions, she certainly knows how to put you in your place."

Gale felt a surge of frustration, a feeling akin to a slap in the face. He knew that his need for magical items often consumed a significant portion of the party's resources.

He replied dryly, "I only want prudent use of our limited funds."

"Of course, forgive my thoughtlessness," Astarion said smoothly. But his smug smile made Gale's blood boil.

Gale opened his mouth for a scathing retort, but caught himself. Astarion awaited his reaction eagerly, but Gale simply gave a thin smile. "If acquiring trinkets keeps you occupied, far be it from me to intervene."

With that, he smoothly returned to his task, denying Astarion the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him. After all, Astarion is the last person on Faerûn he wants to engage in a conversation with.

__________________________________________________________

The Sway

As the party's journey unfolded, they stumbled upon a mesmerizing dark amethyst during one of their explorations. Amaara's keen intellect kicked into gear as she examined the gem, a glint of realization shining in her eyes. She declared, "This is it. This is the key that can unlock the Necromancy of Thay."

A spark of intrigue lit up Astarion's gaze at her words. Observing the glimmer of hesitation in Amaara's eyes, he saw a chance to bend her will to his desires once more. He turned to her, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Would you be so kind as to let me have that book, darling?"

Amaara's fingers hovered uncertainly over the dark tome, an uneasiness settling in her chest. The ominous aura that clung to the book made her instincts recoil, a caution born of a lifetime of scholarly pursuits and magical studies. "I don't know...necromantic knowledge can be dangerous."

"I just wanted an edge over Cazador." Astarion purred, nuzzling her neck. "To keep myself safe, to keep you safe."

His touch made her shiver with longing, but apprehension lingered. "Perhaps it would be safer if Gale simply absorbed it..."

"Come now. Think of what knowledge could be gained from it," he cajoled, appealing to her scholarly side. His voice was a silky temptation that stirred something within her. "Imagine the secrets it holds, just waiting to be unveiled. I promise to tread carefully." he stroked her arm and met her eyes beseechingly.

Try as she might, Amaara found herself unable to resist when he gazed at her like that. "Alright, fine. But promise me you'll be careful, Astarion. Necromancy is dangerous, but it's not uncontrollable. I'll be watching over you." she conceded.

Astarion's lips curved into a satisfied smile, a silent triumph dancing in his gaze. He extended his hand, the anticipation evident in his posture. "You have my word, my dear. I'll handle it with the utmost care. You'll see."

And so, with the dark tome and the weight of his unspoken intentions, Astarion gained yet another victory.

_____________________________________________________

Murmurs of Discontent

Amaara accompanied Astarion on his nightly hunt one night. The flickering campfire cast a warm yet eerie glow upon the gathering of rest of the companions, their faces shadowed as they huddled together in quiet conversation. Gale, Wyll, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Lae'zel formed a circle, their shared unease drawing them together.

"Do you all see this? The way he's able to influence her decisions with such ease? It's as if she's... under his spell." Gale's brow furrowed.

Shadowheart's lips pressed into a thin line as she spoke, her voice edged with frustration. "We've seen the way she looks at him, as if he's the center of her world. It's sickening, really."

"Can't blame her for indulging in a bad boy," Karlach grinned and winked.

Wyll said. "True, but Astarion is not oblivious to this power he wields over her. He uses his influence to his advantage, and who's to say where that might lead us?"

Karlach's playful expression vanished. She slammed a fist into her palm. "Right then. it's time I had a little chat with that parasite, set him straight."

"Maybe something more subtle?" Gale suggested quickly. "Threatening him directly could make things worse."

Lae'zel finally spoke up after everyone voiced their concern. Her voice has a determined edge. "Amaara is no fool. The sways you worried about so far are over inconsequential decisions. She is not someone to be easily manipulated. Let's not underestimate her. We should wait and observe. If it becomes too out of control, simply dispose of him."

Lae'zel's words gave them pause. Perhaps they had underestimated Amaara's will. They exchanged glances between themselves. It is a delicate matter after all. For now, they will keep a watchful eye and do nothing more.