#this was just a fun experiment for myself

[shapelytimber]

Pj party for the gang <3

[BG3 PRINTS] - [COMMISSIONS]

(Please don't spoil me act 3, I've still not got around to play it-)

Everytime I go to camp to clock in for the night, and a good 4 out of 6 of these fuckers go to sleep wearing *leather* outfits- I understand it from a 'this is a video game of course they don't change clothes to go sleeping' perspective..... But on the other hand I slept once in leather pants and that was one of the worst experiences of my life, so to think these people do it voluntarily everynight- freaks. All of them.

So I gave them pyjamas :D that was a lot of fun ! Also I like when characters have a more diverse builds and sizes, so I killed two birds w one stone and drew what the gang looks like in my heart <3 and of course I made a quick little line up !

A lot of yapping about the pj choices and process below vvv

Gale : fancy depressed wizard gets a fancy bathrobe type get up ! I don't think this man was getting dressed a lot in that sad year post his breakup, so why not invest in a comfy cool pj he can slip on in the morning feeling like it kinda counts as dressing up ! And I get that they didn't exactly pack before getting kidnapped by aliens, but Gale is a wizard I'm sure he can just reach into a pocket dimension where he stores some of his belongings (ala my tes mage !) or something

Astarion : I don't think astarion owns many clothes. He isn't wealthy, and well.... Let's not talk about Cazador in the fun pyjama party post- so his ruffled shirt untucked from a pair of looser cotton or silk pants it is ! Also I learned that elves are typically shorter on average in dnd and that's great, that's perfect, that's so funny, I can just picture him insisting this is true (which it is).... And then enters Halsin fjdjdk anyway

Halsin : I just know in my heart that man sleep in his bear form. It's when he's most comfortable, and he doesn't need to talk to other people when sleeping so why not. Also comfy bed mate :) ! Other option is completely nude (yes I forgot to include him in the lineup, sue me but I'm too tired to re open photoshop rn-)

Shadowheart : this is my art, and if I want the resident goth girly to be in a cute little nightgown I can >:( she gets lace and everything let me be a lesbian !!! Also she small and sturdy

Wyll : a slight variation of his canon camp clothes :) made his top less skintight, and once again changed the texture from leather to something less terrible to sleep in seriously why are all these people committed to this lifestyle-

Lae'zel : no pjs, a githyanki must be ready for battle 24/7 only the weak wear comfy clothes and don't commit to sleeping in leather pants and leather underwear. She's a freak and I love her dearly

Karlach : she deserves the best pyjamas of them all : topless in underwear. Nothing comfier than that and it's not like she'll get cold :) also she wears it very well what can I say fjdjdkd

I started working on the lineart like a month ago alongside a commission that I really didn't like working on- so anytime I got work done for the commission (btw not from someone online so it's none of you tumblrinas), I would reward myself with adding more shit to the bg3 drawing djdjdkk which resulted in a lot of details and clutter, that I didn't want to start coloring because that would be a nightmare to figure out and very long to do, so I would continue adding shit instead of starting colors- and the circle kept turning. Also 10 hands..... So this took a while to get right fjdjdk

But on the bright side, it's the most detailed illustrations I've done yet and I'm really proud of it (especially all the little story elements I could include <3)

[eloriis]

TEENAGE DREAM - ollie bearman

in which. . ollie bearman and y/n l/n are everyone’s teenage dream couple — ob87 x f!reader

notes : the drought has finally ended!! here’s some water for u guys <33 also i lost a follower 😞💔 anyways hope u guys like it! p.s i fear this post is extremely short 😞

type : smau face claim : hanni pham / pics from pinterest

liked by olliebearman, urbsf, and 15,285 others

y/nuser happy pre-valentines day with my bear 🫶🏼🫶🏼

olliebearman get ready for tmro! it’s going to be so much fun :p

y/nuser i can’t believe you’re still going to hide it from me :(

olliebearman awh bby it won’t be a surprise if i tell you what it’s about, will it?

y/nuser still doesn’t mean i have to like it :(

user1 they are so cute ahhh i’m gonna combust

user2 they are THE it pinterest couple omgomg

urbsf my bby looks so pretty omg!!

y/nuser stoppp have you seen urself?! youre gorg!

liked by olliebearman, urbsf, and 20,964 others

y/nuser happy vals day 💌

hope all of you bought urselves a well-deserved gift <33

olliebearman ty for being my valentine ❤️

y/nuser we’re dating, ofc i’d be ur valentine silly!

user3 THAT FIT?? ITS SO PRETTY OMGG

user4 WAIT SHES OLLIE’S GF?!? SHES GORG OMG

user5 the second pic omg they’re so adorable ☹️☹️

user6 the last line in her caption omg :( she’s so sweet

liked by olliebearman, user87 and 27,095 others

y/nuser feb dump!

olliebearman sm pics of us hehe 😋

y/nuser i couldn’t help myself, you’re just so cute :p

olliebearman r u talking abt urself, love?

user6 this is so cute omg (i’m so single bro)

user7 real bro, real 😞💔

urbsf USUSUS!!

y/nuser USUSUS!!

user8 they are the embodiment of the teenage love that everyone wants to experience ❤️

liked by author and olliebearman

liked by olliebearman, alexandrasaintmleux and 40,296 others

y/nuser you make me feel like i’m living a teenage dream olliebearman ❤️‍🩹🧸

olliebearman i would go thro life all over again and again if it meant i’d have you forever ❤️

y/nuser bear :(( you’re gonna make me cry

user9 oh. my. god. i fell to the ground in a walmart

user10 mom and dad <3

user11 they are so precious ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[quotidian-oblivion]

I'M A TEACHER AND I NEED YOUR HELP!!!!

This sounds like a gofundme.

It's not a gofundme.

Basically, I'm a teacher who teaches 12-15 year olds during the weekends. It's not a paid job, it's more of a paid-volunteering gig, but I really really enjoy teaching so I've been doing it for a couple of years. However, this year, I got a promotion of sorts and bumped upto teaching from 6-8 yos to 12-15 yos.

sO.

I've had previous bad teacher experiences in the past (read: My School's Local Mafia Boss), and though I can smoothly engage little children during lessons, teenagers are a different story. ...Cuz I'm a teenager myself. Like, I'm 2-4 years older than the oldest ones in class max.

I really, really want to be a good teacher. And I'm tryingggg, but making lesson plans for older students is harder than younger students. I WAS WONDERING, do any of you have any interactive and interesting ideas for engaging classrooms??? I genuinely want to be a good teacher and nothing like the shit ones I've had in the past. I care about my students and I really want them to have fun in my classes while also genuinely learning content.

So if you have any ideas, please share them. Heck, just share something which you wish your teachers/tutors did, or something which some of your better teachers did do that worked, or even just something bad that your teachers did that I know to avoid and use an alternative.

[abrthephantomq]

I'll answer the anon ask with this:

I started writing in earnest at the age of 9.

I wrote my first sex scene at the age of 14.

I hadn't had sex, yet.

But I will tell you, I had an imagination, had read a whole bunch of fanfiction (and therefore smut - queer smut, specifically) since the age of 12, and the hormones of a teenager.

I also had very much already been engaging in masturbation, because again: imagination and hormones fueled by the explicit scenes I read.

So I hadn't personally had sex, but I had experienced it from the POVs of my favorite characters in my favorite fandoms - indirectly. And I had hands on experience in at least bringing myself to orgasm.

Limiting yourself as a writer to things you have personally experienced instead of leaning on your imagination AND peripheral knowledge / related knowledge is so silly. And yes, the scene isn't particularly well written because I was fourteen. But the mechanics are there and solid, because I had done my research, so to speak.

And nowadays sex is one of my favorite things to write, in general. Tbh I prefer writing sex scenes as a way of character exploration and showing how something so stigmatized nowadays in US culture really fucking shouldn't be. Kink just adds another layer to character exploration and is also incredibly healing, in a way, for me to write.

I am no longer 14 (I'm more than twice that), and I have had sex (lost my virginity at 15). I absolutely enjoy having it, too, but I'm also perfectly fine never having sex again, since I'm demi/ace.

"Write What You Know" has done so many writers dirty.

Because here's the thing: when you write, what makes that writing shine will be the characters, and how human they are. If you know people; if you're capable of looking at something through another person's eyes - of conveying the emotion present in every scene?

It won't matter if you've never personally experienced that thing, or not.

Write what you want to write. Write what you think sex is, even if you haven't had it before. Human beings have sex. A lot of them do so for fun. A lot of them do so for connection.

That's all that you really need to know, honestly. The mechanics of what goes where and whether you should get lube involved etc - there's a whole wide world of Internet out there. Use it to fill in knowledge gaps.

Stop limiting yourselves. Just write.

Do you think people who are virgin should write smut? I feel like most of them don’t even know what they’re writing and just write what they think sex is

the implication this ask suggests that people who write about murders, cannibalism, politics, magic, royalty au, sci-fi, wars, supernatural, time travel, medieval era, werewolves, vampires, mermaids or goblins must be murderers, cannibals, presidents, wizards, royalties, astronauts, ghost hunters, soldiers, time travelers, knights, werewolves, vampires, mermaids or goblins in real life is so funny to me

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Teaching is hard work.

Pairing: Tess Servopoulos x f!reader Rating: +18, MDNI, NSFW Words count: 3282 Summary: You ask your neighbor Tess for help because you’re about to meet your online crush, will it remain only a friendly help? Tags: AU, no outbreak, No Joel this time, queen Tess deserves her own moment to shine. This has been sitting in my drafts for at least two months, I finally finished it today and I'm going to post it immediately before thinking about it for another two months. Written for people who fancy women so it’s especially dedicated to my bi, lesbian and pan friends along with anyone of you who knows women are meant to be worshipped. If this is not for you, it's okay, I'll write something else sooner or later. WLW sex, WLW nsfw, oral (f! receiving), nipples play, scissoring, swearing, dirty talk, unspecified age gap (Tess is a little bit older than you), neighbor!Tess, bi!reader and bi!Tess, mention of Tess's son (alive and well in this), reader has barely no description, she has female genitalia and is slightly described to be a little curvy if you squint, switching pov, no proofreading, no beta, we're going down with this ship, I'm very sorry for any mistake. Let me know if you think I forgot some major tag and I'll add it right away. Thanks to anyone who will read, I really hope you'll like it. Comments and reblog are always appreciated ❤️

“So you want me to teach you how to pleasure a woman?” 

Tess couldn’t believe her ears when you blurted out that, in the middle of her living room on a casual Saturday. 

Jesus, you were her son’s babysitter and yes, you became friends with time but you never had such an intimate conversation, of course not. 

What led you to ask her for advice?

“I met a girl online” you candidly admitted “And I like her so much but I…I’ve never been with a girl before and she asked me to visit her and…I don’t know, Tess, I’m scared of making a fool of myself” 

Your voice was high pitched, anxious, a chirping sound like the cutest bird.

You were so sweet, all embarrassed looking at your shoes. You had never looked so awkward before. She had known you for some years now, ever since you started going around the neighborhood knocking on doors and offering to babysit for extra money.

You were skilled, kind and patient with her son, you always seemed to know what others needed before they told you.

That's why she was surprised to see you like this.

“Hey” she tried to say “It’s okay, you know, you’re actually right, being with a girl is different” 

“How?” You asked, eyes wide, eager to learn. 

She sighed and finally accepted her role as a mentor “Well, boys are quite easy to please, you know? You’ve been with them, right?” 

She remembered Scott and Jeff and Robert and Luke after them, you’ve been quite successful in your college years. 

All of them had come to pick you up from her house sooner or later.

You nodded “yeah.” 

“With a girl, you gotta be focused on her, you gotta be sure to really listen to what she wants” 

Tess had experience, she dated girls before and you know that, she never made her bisexuality a secret, despite what her older neighbors think.

It’s their problem, Tess doesn’t care a bit. 

Her boyfriend was out of the picture as soon as she got pregnant, the bastard, at your age she was a single woman just trying to do her best for her son and she wouldn’t let anyone to make her feel guilty because she tried to have fun once in a while.

She saw you panicking, probably thinking you were not good enough and she tried to reassure you right away: 

“Hey, you can do that, don’t worry.” She said, lacing her hand on you thigh “no need to be that nervous” 

You sighed “okay, but how I make sure to touch her the right way?” 

Your puppy eyes were almost too much to bear with, Tess felt a pang in her stomach. 

“Just…show me, please” you exhaled.

Tess wasn’t sure what you were asking for but she tried to somehow make it clear for you. 

“Well, uhm… try this, you go in really slowly with your index finger and curl it like this” her finger was suspended in the air in front of you “and then you do this” Tess explained, repeatedly tapping at nothing, rhythmically moving the second phalanx “see? You really have to make sure to reach that spongy spot inside her and tickling it. You’ll see she’s going to see heaven if you do this” 

She smiled, stroking your arm, trying to give you comfort. 

“Oh, yes, that’s basically the same I do when I…uhm…you know” you murmured. 

“Yes, exactly. You’ve done this before to yourself, there’s no way you could do this wrong. And then maybe you could add another finger if she’s fine with that” 

“Okay. Yeah, but…” you lowered your eyes again seeming uncertain, on the verge of asking something that really made you uncomfortable. 

“Every person is different, how can I be sure that what I do to myself is fine for another woman?” 

Tess held her breath, you were basically asking for a practical demonstration. 

That’s what you were doing, right? 

“Do you want me to show you?” She couldn’t believe what she just said. 

What the hell was happening? 

“I…yeah.” You admitted shyly “I don’t know how to use my tongue either” Tess winced, shifting on the couch like it was suddenly uncomfortable.

“What?”

“Please” you cried “I don’t want for this girl to think I’m a dumbass. I want to make sure to give her the time of her life and I don’t have anyone else to ask for help”

“Fuck” she muttered “I can’t dear, I mean, come on”

“I wouldn’t ask if I had other options. I’m running out of time, I’m supposed to visit her next weekend… please Tess?”

Tess was torn, she always found you cute but you were younger than her and basically her employer.

“This is so fucked up” she retorted 

“I know” you whined, your eyes full of tears, you really were that desperate to make a good impression towards that girl.

“Okay” she sighed “but that doesn’t mean anything, alright? I’m going to show you just because you need to learn. No strings attached and this is not going to happen again.”

“Hopefully I’ll have a girlfriend next week so” you shrugged “don’t worry, I want nothing more than to be good for her”

You crossed your fingers and smiled a little and Tess’ heart melted.

You were so sweet.

Good thing her son was at an arranged playdate and the other mom wouldn’t drop him before 7pm.

You had some time.

“Let’s go to my bedroom”

She took your hand and led you through the corridor.

“Sit here” she gestured her king size bed. 

You did and she looked at you for a moment. 

“Okay then. First thing, we need to get comfortable.”

She sat on the edge, next to you.

“Is it okay if I put my hand on your hip?” 

You nodded. ‘Sure.’ 

She slid her fingers along the waistband of your jeans and lingered on the softness of your side.

Curvy and lovely, your skin poking between your shirt and your pants was velvet under her digits.

Your breath hitched and you quivered a little bit.

“Relax” she whispered, raising her hand to your breast “it’s going to be okay” 

“Now, what’s important is the built up, even more important than the act itself because you wanna make sure to really engrain in her brain that she needs you more than anything and you’ll be the one giving her the most incredible pleasure, do you get me?”

You nodded.

“Okay, so, you really have to go for foreplay first. Caress her, and be gentle at first. Create anticipation, make her want you to do more and more. Take your time, make her feel like you’re enjoying every inch of her body”

She had taken your breasts in her hand, marveling at how they perfectly filled her palms. You had let out a sigh as she whispered to you “would you take your shirt off, darling?”

With your consent, she had taken the lower edge and helped you remove it from your head. 

Your breasts  were embraced by a black lace balconette bra, almost risking to spill out as they stood before her eyes.

Soft and beautiful, that’s what you were. 

She took back one of your tits in her hand and gently brushed your nipple through the fabric. 

It stiffen immediately and Tess couldn’t help but licking her lower lip. 

You mewl, eyes fixed on hers. 

“Does it feel good?” 

“Yeah” you purred starting to relax under her touch. 

“Do that to her and you’ll see, she’ll be clay in your hands” she smiled and you smiled back, the most lovely smirk she had ever seen.

“Okay” you breathe and you don’t even seem embarrassed anymore but eager. 

“Do you mind taking this off too?” 

“No” You unhooked your bra like you weren't even thinking anymore, she helped you by sliding the straps down your arms and tossing it to the side on the bed.

Your naked breasts took her breath away. They were perfect, round, your skin smelled like heaven, your nipples were stiffen and delicious in front of her eyes.

Saliva pooling in her mouth, she felt a jolt in her spine, an invisible force driving her to latch her lips on them and stay there sucking and nibbling. 

She tried to keep her thinking straight, she had to teach you, what about that stupid arousal invading her entire body? 

So fucking wrong. 

“Now, what you have to do is make sure to take care of her tits. A little nipple play is always good, you know? Do you play with your tits, baby?” 

“Yeah” you shamelessly admitted “every time. It makes me real wet” 

Tess smiled. You were so much better than you thought. 

“Good. Now playing with her could be slightly different ‘cause you don’t know how much pressure does she likes when you grab them in your hands or if she likes her nipples to be tugged or twisted or anything. So you gotta ask nicely, okay?” 

You swallowed and nodded, eyes focused on her. 

And then you asked “how do you do that?” 

Tess felt her heart stumping behind her ribcage “You want me to show you?” 

That was a fucking dream. She wanted to play with your beautiful breasts the minute they were bare in front of her. 

You said yes. Yes, of course.

Tess took one of them in her palm, weighed it and then lowered her lips to latch onto your hardened bud. 

The way it fitted in her mouth, your velvet skin, your smell, all of it pushed her deeply into her lust. 

Jesus, you were so damn hot and inviting, 

She wasn’t expecting anything like that but then you moaned at her licking your nipple, her tongue swirling on it and she lose it. 

She began sucking it. Sucking it strong and willingly like she had a purpose. Purpose of making you squirm real bad underneath her.

A fresh slick of arousal dampen her panties, immediately followed by adrenaline rushing to her head. 

“Fuck” you groaned “Tess this is so… damn” 

She smirked on your skin, your nipple still trapped between her teeth. 

She pulled it and saw your eyes glossy and your lips forming a big o and she knew it. 

You were losing it too. 

She moved to the other breast, feeling you eagerly push it into her mouth like you couldn’t wait. 

She teased and lick and sucked, swirling her tongue around your areola feeling like she was starved eating your tits like her last meal, wishing for you to come from just that. 

You moaned again, praising her, burying your hand in her hair. 

“Fuck, I wish I was good like you at doing this” 

She parted from you whispering on your skin “you are babe, I’m sure you can do exactly the same or even better. She’s going to be so smitten with you. Wanna try? I’m going to be sincere and tell you if you’re doing it right”

You hesitated for a moment before saying, “Maybe later, I'd like you to show me how to eat pussy first.” You lowered your eyes in intimidation, looking at your erect nipples coated in Tess' saliva, letting out a long sigh.

Tess looked at you chuckling, and ran her knuckles across your cheek “as you wish, young lady. Lay down” 

_________________________________

The room was silent, the bed soft and comfortable, it smelled of fabric softener and Tess' perfume, a fragrance of apple, jasmine and vanilla, with a hint of raspberry and lychee that made you think of summer, sunny days, fairs. You had never smelled anything like it, it was persistent but not annoying and it announced her presence as soon as she entered a room.

It was original and had personality, just like her.

Everything was bathed in a comfortable semi-darkness even though it was afternoon. The curtains were drawn and the sun only just managed to enter, refracting on the floor in long golden streaks and reflecting on the large mirror hanging above the dresser. 

Tess lowered herself onto your body, starting at your neck, planting little kisses on your skin, slowly moving down to your chest, to the cleft between your breasts, to your stomach, further and further down until she reached the elastic of your panties. She gently ran her tongue over them, teasing you, never taking her eyes off your face. 

You had always admired Tess, how she faced life with courage, how she had made her way from nothing and built a future for her son. 

The free way in which she lived her sexuality was something else you admired about her. 

She was gorgeous and exuded an impossible to miss charisma, the aura of a natural leader. 

A brown-haired goddess between your thighs.

Tess's lips landed on your panties, just above your clit, her tongue darting between them for just a moment and making you gasp. 

“Do you like it, babe?” She asked softly.

“Yeah” you replied under your breath. 

“Look, eating pussy you gotta pay attention to all her reactions, if you see that she likes something you are doing, don't stop and start doing something else. Stay on that point for a while. Make her feel like pleasing her is truly your mission. Worshipping her will lead you to success” 

She licked a long strip from the bottom up, over the fabric, and you gasped, clasping one hand in her hair, arching your back, silently begging for more friction. “Like right now, for example, I can see that you like this. So I'll do it again and again, until you beg me to fuck you.”

Staring straight into your eyes, she said, “Is this what you want? You want my fingers deep inside your tight pussy, don't you?” 

You nodded. Yeah. It all started because you needed someone to explain things to you, someone to make you feel less of a dork, but at that moment Tess, disheveled and ferine like a wildcat between your legs with her hazel eyes fixed on you, was all you could think about. 

And she was right. 

You wanted more.

You wanted everything.

Another lick made you tingle, and you saw a mischievous smile spread across her face in spite of herself. 

“Please” you whined. “Please what, baby?” 

Her tongue traced the contours of your lips, occasionally sinking between them, always through your now-soaked panties. 

“Take off my panties” you said with barely any strength.

Your head was light, dizzy, a jumble of feelings stirred in your chest. 

Tess smiled, her fingers grasped the sides of your panties and slowly pulled them down to your ankles, then tossed them onto the floor.

“Someone is hungry, huh? Look at that messy pussy. She’s weeping. It’s all for me or you’re thinking about that other girl?”

“I…i don’t know” you tried to say.

Tess raised an eyebrow, wryly looking at you: “Oh, you don't know? Really? I guess your kitty knows better”

She leaned over your clit, sucking it between her lips. Hard. 

You let out a loud moan, unable to control yourself, pulling Tess's hair so hard that you were afraid you'd pull out a lock. 

“Oh yes, baby, I've always liked it rough” she whispered, before latching again on your clit giving you no respite. 

You were so wet that her fingers easily entered you. Tess did exactly as she had explained to you a little earlier, curving them inside you until she reached that soft spot that made you see stars, and she began to thrust her fingers there. 

And it worked. Exactly like she said. Better than anything any boy had ever done to you.

She continued to suck your clit, alternating with licks that made you tense up like a violin string, you could feel the sweat sliding down your spine. It was like she was making out with your cunt. 

Her steady hands on your thighs held you obscenely open for her to feast on you.

Your pussy was crying out to be rammed by her mouth, more and more.

You bit your lip to hold back but your body betrayed you in every way.

“C'mon, baby, just let go.” She urged.

You could no longer hide it or pull back, she was driving you crazy. 

“Fuck” you wailed. 

“Yeah, I know” she cooed “It feels good. And you taste amazing, you know that? Let me tell you, if that girl doesn't want to eat your pussy every day of her life, she's really stupid.”

Your orgasm suddenly washed over you, like waves dragging you away, your eyes closed, and a long hoarse cry that came from the back of your throat.

Tess continued to eat you until she felt you relax, finally breathing normally. You opened your eyes to see her again between your legs, her chin soaked with your essence, her lips glossy and swollen.

She looked like she wasn't finished with you yet. 

“You know, there's something else I can teach you”

You stared at her, wide-eyed. “What?”

The girl you'd met online had definitely unlocked something inside you, but you were no longer sure that you needed Tess just for her advice. Maybe there was more to it. Maybe, at that moment, she was giving you what you'd always wanted and kept secret even from yourself.

“Have you ever tried scissoring?”

“No” you purred shyly. 

“While we're at it, we'll fix this too”

Tess winked at you, before quickly taking off her leggings and panties. You could just about see them, plain black panties with a thin lace trim.

Her pussy was right in front of your eyes, and it was exactly as you had imagined. Almost completely shaved, with the exception of a thin strip in the center, carefully trimmed.

Perfect outie pussy.

A trickle of her desire wet her lips and you instinctively licked yours. 

She sat down between your thighs, maneuvering you like a doll, one of her legs on top of yours.

You knew it was over for you the moment your clits kissed. 

A lewd, wet kiss. 

She started to buck her hips into you. Slowly at first, making you savor the gliding, her hand firmly on your thigh.

It was a feeling you had never experienced before, a wetness you had never felt before, the sensation of your lips touching, of your clits sliding over each other, it made your head spin. 

You too began to move your hips without even realizing it, writhing against her, feeling that all you wanted was to give her pleasure, make her come against you, and end up drenched in her juices.

The obscene squelching of your clashing cunts filled the room, bouncing off the walls, you bit your lips but you wanted to scream. 

Scream for her.

“Tess” you stuttered with a throaty voice you’ve never heard coming out of you before.

And then you started repeating her name like a litany. 

“Yeah baby, just like that. Keep going, give it all to me” she moaned.

You both ended up sweating and roaring at each other like some feral animals.

It ended all too soon, your second orgasm crushing on you like an earthquake, leaving you quivering and exhausted.

You lied on the bed trying to regain a normal breath while Tess collapsed on the opposite side, overcome by her pleasure.

“Fuck” she muttered “teaching is really hard work” 

You laughed. 

She approached you, leaving a kiss on your cheek. “Do you think you're ready now?” 

You smiled tenderly “I think I've never been so ready in my life, thanks to you”

taglist (no pressure at all): @aurorawritestoescape , @baronessvonglitter , @milla-frenchy, @joelmillerisapunk , @probablyreadinsmut , @almostempty , @harriedandharassed , @thundermartini

[modmad]

Hey Mod! I hope this finds you well, and that you are having a good day.

Sometimes I think it will be fun, if I get to grow old and perhaps have children, to have the opportunity to read your stories to whatever audience I find myself with. Certainly a boon of having a copy of The Princess and the Jester.

So, I wonder if you've ever thought of releasing your short stories at all in a physical form? Unless you already have and I just completely missed it in the world of the wide web, in which case I'll feel rather silly.

Your short stories tend to really stick with me, and I read them to my friends when they'll give me the time of day, so having a book of them would certainly make dragging it around… well, not necessarily easier over a phone, but there's a tangibility there and I certainly can't be foiled by bad cell service then.

Thank you for taking the time to read this message!

Sincerely, that one Thin House fan.

oh my gosh! I am so glad someone out there likes my prose!? I actually DO have all the stories in one big doc, with a few completely new stories and poems in there, with the intention of one day making it into a book ala Shel Silverstein's Where the Sidewalk Ends, but my first book, Unbecoming, was an experiment and- while well received by those who do read it- it doesn't move as much as my comics. Topatoco are fabulous and fantastic for selling comics and cute merch, but it's not a platform for prose books. What I need is somewhere that I can release prose stories better... still looking into that. Advice welcome! Any publishers out there!?

[tophat-69]

So, I wrote a whole long post about funding and patent ownership and how it would impact Jayce and Viktor’s work, but Tumblr ate it and I refuse to rewrite it right now because I hold a grudge.

If you ever need to know what kind of paperwork to have them frustrated over in the background, or why they’re still not rolling in money, let me know.

Instead you’re going to get some fun institute culture and tidbits for flavor, to adapt at will. This is based on my personal experience and is going to be written for humor, but I assure you—it is true.

Welcome to the ridiculous side of working with scientific geniuses.

First thing to know—research institutes are often incredibly siloed. That means that the people working on intelligent systems rarely know what’s going on in chemical engineering. You have your division and you know your own project(s), and maybe what some of what your friendlier coworkers in your own division are working on. Unless there is a specific RFP (request for proposal—see my now nonexistent funding rant) that requires collaboration, you’re usually deep in your own projects.

So the institutes I’ve worked for try to foster collaboration by dragging everyone in a division together to get them describing the barebones basics of their projects.

Now, most scientists I’ve ever worked with are introverted neurodivergent nerds (I am absolutely including myself) and dread this sort of forced interaction. So, how do they pull this off without making it mandatory?

Food.

The Cake Is A Trap

Imagine you have been holed up in your lab or office the entire day. You have a cup of stale coffee and, if you thought about it in the morning, maybe a sandwich in a mini fridge.

It’s after noon, and suddenly you are assailed with the smell of actual food. Something catered if you’re lucky, or even just pizza and cookies—the kind of thing you would scorn from managers in retail as ‘employee appreciation’ can absolutely still be scientist bait.

One by one, heads pop out of offices like prairie dogs warily sticking their heads out of holes. An assistant is sent to research what’s available and gives the scoop on what food there is.

You have been captured.

For forty-five minutes or so, in exchange for an actual meal that you neither have to pay for nor leave the building for, you are encouraged to give a thumbnail description of your work so that everyone can feel like a team. You volunteer your principal investigator to do the talking, stuff your face, and maybe something interesting comes up from another team and you say ‘we should talk about this.’

Your division head feels very accomplished. You scurry back to your lab or your office.

Food is always bait. And it almost always works.

The Lab Is A Cult

Everywhere I’ve worked, every lab has its own culture. You will see cyber security labs with pirate flags covering the glass or Spy Vs Spy figures you’re supposed to greet. You will walk into an intelligent systems lab and there will be a propaganda style poster that reads “Only You Can Prevent Skynet” and people salute it before executing a command. You will see a small pile of candy stacked on top of a piece of equipment in an engineering bay—it is not for you, it is a bribe to keep that machine working.

These are rational, brilliant minds… and in the comfort of their lab they have developed incomprehensible in-jokes and complex superstitions.

Do you watch an experiment because if you look away it will fail, or do you let it do its thing so you don’t jinx it? Is there a mascot to the lab, some outdated prototype or random trinket that now is integral to the operations? Do you hold a funeral for broken equipment or do you shame it as a warning to other equipment? Do you all turn at once to look in horror at someone who says ‘so far so good’ and keep something wooden in the lab to make them knock on?

You enter with skepticism into every lab and judge them for the specific eccentricities… and then you perpetuate them and find yourself adopting them.

You are now an apostle of the lab traditions. Do you believe the scripture of the horrific looking Troll Doll that is older than you and is passed down for luck?

No.

Are you going to risk it?

Also no.

Your Office, Your Playground

In a building full of other neurodivergent nerds, your office is a canvas for you to project all of your other special interests onto. Your research may be your life, but the LEGO replica of Frodo’s trek through Middle Earth that wraps around the walls of your office is your passion. The cardboard cutout of Darth Vader with a cowboy hat perched on his head may raise eyebrows, but they can take it up with him. The vintage wind-up tin toys may be absurd when you’re working on advanced robotics, but they’re where you got your start. The models you built of past projects may be outdated, but they are your children now.

Then there’s the practicalities. Do you believe that a catastrophic system failure could delete all of your work? Good thing you have built a fortress of two inch binders full of every bit of research you have ever done. And if you’ve been there long enough, you may even have to carve a path through it to the postage-stamp sized area cleared just for your chair. Your assistant dreads the impending day that you retire and they have to sort through your important work on railway technology from forty years ago.

You keep a hanger with a full change of respectable clothes and your lucky suit jacket hanging on the back of the door. Just in case someone needs you to look presentable.

Any important meetings are going to happen in a conference room somewhere anyway. Your office is yours, and you owe no one an explanation.

…But come on, it’s better if they ask, so you can infodump.

I could keep going. I may keep going. But please enjoy these real-life examples of scientist absurdities while I decide if I’m going to rewrite the practicalities too.

I hope that these spark ideas for you. Go forth. Write mad scientists. And know that they are fully aware that they’re eccentric and embrace it enthusiastically.

[nattikay]

Evolution of my fursona/art style over the past 15 years. Say what you will, but I genuinely think fursonas as a concept are a fascinating form of self-expression and just find it interesting to look back and track the changes of not only my art skills/style but also of the way I chose to present myself at various points in my life.

I had two distinct art "phases" during my teenage years. The first one was around middle school, in which I was your standard cringy furry kid on the internet with a plethora of brightly-colored Mary Sue OCs.

The second one was around high school and into college, at which point I got more serious about art (preparing to apply for the BYU animation program) and decided that I was too Mature™ for unnaturally colored characters, among other things (that's where I changed Natti's color scheme from blue to brown, and there were also a few years where she was actually changed to entirely white with no markings, though that iteration never got a ref sheet and therefore isn't represented here).

In retrospect I actually kinda view the second phase as cringier than the first. I don't regret the phase—I think it was overall beneficial to my art journey and I definitely learned a lot during it—I just wish I hadn't had such a stick up my butt about it. I wouldn't have worded it this way at the time, but I looking back I definitely had it in my head that I was a Special And Good Artist for figuring out that unrealistic colorful characters are Not Okay for whatever reason, and I lowkey looked down my nose at younger artists who "hadn't figured it out yet", which....yeeeeeeeah, that attitude was pretty cringe. But that's teenagers for ya, I suppose.

Anyways, I find it pretty fascinating that by complete coincidence, the current iteration of my fursona—who I designed as an adult and whose design has remained stable for around seven years now—happens to represent the color schemes of her iterations from both of those eras: the blue whimsy of the middle school iterations, and the brown and white of her high school iterations.

This wasn't intentional—fun fact, the reason the current version of my fursona has the white/brown/blue color scheme is that when I initially went to design her I was aiming for a dilute calico pattern, with the gray stylized to blue. I wound up abandoning the calico idea because I couldn't nail down a splotch pattern I was satisfied with, but kept the colors.

Yet despite the fact that it's coincidence, it's still pretty cool that my current fursona has those elements of all her predecessors, because it's as if all those phases and experiences and growth have come together to form the person I am now and it's represented visually.

It's also interesting how her design changed so often when I was a kid/teenager, but now as an adult it's stabilized.

like, idk, maybe I'm just looking wayyyy too deep into things here, but I feel like there's some sort of psychology at play lol. But who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[iilmunchkiin]

Im curious, before Ceroba, Starlo and Uty, what things did you used to draw?

I ask because I know from experience that forging such a unique and expressive art style takes time, practice, and love.

I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED THIS I HAVE AN EXCUSE TO SHOW MY OLD ART q(≧▽≦q)

Oh boy I drew loaaddddddsssss and I mean LOADDDSSSS back then, like I mentioned in my strawpage (before I hid it from y'all) I'm a multifandom artist. For my chibi art I mostly took inspo from Omori and Animal Crossing before coming up with my own style.

As for my more detailed style tho I took inspo from stuff I liked on pinterest and other artists I followed, I experimented ALOTTTT so I was able to find a style I like and stuff, but even until now your artstyle can still change and that's okayyyyyy (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) You can see difference here on my old art to how I draw now.

I went through every phase you could imagine - furry, mary sue, animation meme phase, selfship, oc x canon - you name it, but the important thing for me was to have fun and stuff! There was a time where I stopped posting online so I was able to focus on myself more ^^

And that also means you're allowed to draw goofy shit like this HAHAHAHA

I still have loads of old art I wanna show but yeah, sorry if this explanation sounds rlly rlly scuffed, I'm burnt out rn 💔💔💔 But yeah, just fuck around and find out (o゜▽゜)o☆

[ Kofi☕]

[ultrakill-confessions]

stumbles in. sorry to get political on main (slash jay) but like. personally i dont see any issue with the fandom being overtly horny

yada yada rule 34 of the internet if it exists theres porn and there are MANY things in the game itself that alude to more sexual stuff (cough gabriel act 2 fight cough) like idk man. youre being horny over the game that has PURPOSELY horny things in it.

and like yeah as an aroace person can it get kinda annoying to only find porn of shit when you want other stuff? yeah but also like. sex is pretty cool and normal, this fandom just isnt ashamed to admit that. like if youre sex repulsed thats okay!! sometimes i myself would rather rip out my eyes than see something horny

really the only issue i have with it is like. the amount of minors who are in the fandom. but the issue is easily fixed with putting the proper tags/filters and explain to them that They Shouldnt Be Interacting With That Stuff.

so yeah at the end of the day the fandom is horny over the homoerotic game, shocking (sarcasm) and like . curate your internet experience. find people that match your freak whether that includes being horny over hell or just wanting to ramble about how cool the game is. fandom is about having fun. round house kicking all of yall into the playhouse of fun where you can make friends and talk about the things you like

- manic anon

-

[zepskies]

Omg yay!! @tofics Welcome back, friend!! ❤️❤️ I'm so glad you're tuning into this one because you'll see some Smoke Eater type stuff in this mini series too - with the added fun of a plus-sized reader. 😘

Okay, first of all - love love loooveeee @redhoodieone for requesting this and @zepskies for bringing it to life. Firefighter!Dean just does things to me. And yes, Alex, it's all your fault. (Thank you!) And now the reader is an ELEMENTARY TEACHER? ARE YOU KIDDING ME! That only happens to be what I'm studying! It's like this trope was written for me 😭

Omg that's right!! I love that you can relate to this story on multiple levels, and the reader being an elementary teacher was part of the request too! ❤️

Now. I know I've said it before, but as a plus-size girly myself, reading fics where the reader is plus-size herself not only helps with the immersion, but also becomes even more of a delight when they're pictured as desirable. And you did such a good job with that. The repeated slaps on reader's ass, his obvious attraction to her, but most importantly, his outrage when she calls herself fat. Like he can't even believe she'd think of herself that way, because that title simply never occurred to him. Such a rewarding and healing thing to read! 🥹

Ughhh I feel you so much here. Me being plus-sized myself, it's always fun for me to give myself this escape and write how I wish all of us would be treated, especially when we get down on ourselves. That scene at the end was very self-indulgent in a way, but at the same time it made sense for the reader character and how Dean sees her! And also, I just feel that Dean wouldn't mind having his hands full. 😏❤️‍🔥

And god, all those feelings of comparing herself to Lisa and Jo. I wish I didn't know that sinking feeling in her gut when she talked about how she had to slim herself down to fit into the dress, while Lisa and Jo do it so effortlessly. Or the absolute gut-punch that was Lisa's talk about "sticking to a clean diet for the baby" - as if she gives two shits about the little one growing in reader's belly 😒 Ten bucks say she secretly wishes there was no baby to begin with (which, honestly, theoretically I can't blame her for...), nor that she cares about the reader's "health". Fat shaming packaged as "caring". 🤮 Ugh, it made me so mad just reading it! (You wrote it so well 🥲)

lmfaooo pure personal experience on this one! 😅 While I'm sorry you can relate to the reader here like I do, I'm glad you thought it was written well! Lisa being a total bitch in this one loll, disguised in "niceness and politeness" to me is always worse than being blatantly nasty for some reason. It's more like the kinds of things we probably deal with on the day-to-day, when you don't know if something knows they're being a bitch or not, or if they're really trying to hurt you.

GIRL. Now why was this so freaking hot. Jesus Christ. And then his admiration when she's on top next morning 😭

Because who would expect a selfless (generous) man on a one-night stand? 🤭

*dreamy sigh* And this. THIS. The moment where he catches her disappointment. (Cause, ngl, I would've been uncertain as hell myself if I'd just slept with this guy for the third time in one night and suddenly he's scrambling to leave...)

It's an important moment! Shows that Dean is not trying to make her feel like he just used her for sex, he really just is running late. 😂 He's a good guy, he just has a lot of growing to do. 💓💓

Oh, Dean Winchester, the man you are. Alex, I can't wait to see where this goes! Lisa as a more bitchy version is quite the interesting read, and their little unintentional three-way set-up is bound to cause some drama 👀 And I'm here for it!!! Can't wait for the next chapter - coming out on here just one day after my birthday! Can't wait to read it 💓

He's extra something special, all right. 😩

Girl I can't wait to share Part 2 on Sunday!! (Soon and very soon!) It's a huge rollercoaster of emotions we're headed down, and this is only the first leg of it. 😂

Omg Happy early Birthday!! 💕

IF I STAY - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Yes, here’s another firefighter AU! Based on a request from one of my lovely Patreon members: @redhoodieone. She requested pretty much all the major beats of this story, so hopefully I did her request justice! This is also partially inspired by Fools Rush In, a beautiful movie with Salma Hayek and Matthew Perry (Rest in Peace, King).

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis

Word Count: 8.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, thick thirty, hints of body insecurity, but also body appreciation, angst, and hurt/comfort.

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 1: Fools Rush In

Slowly, your eyes slide open into the waking world. Your head is resting on something warm, firm…and a little sweaty. You pick your head up, despite the disorienting, muddy feeling of a slight hangover.

A groan bubbles in your throat. Your gaze travels downward, and you realize that what you’re looking at is more of a who.

Your eyes widen. Oh…my…God…

Not only are you very naked, but your firm pillow is too. It happens to be your best friend’s brother.

Yes, holy fucking shit! You slept with your best friend’s brother.

Biting the inside of your lip, you can’t help but take him in, here in the raw light of day as he lays peacefully on his back. His head lolls to the side on your usual pillow. Your eyes roam over the bow of his lips, the dark eyebrows, lightish brown hair that's softer than it should be between your fingers.

He’s painfully handsome. There’s a slight hesitation in your touch, but you softly trace the cut of his jaw and the stubble spread across it. That roughness feels familiar, and not just under the pads of your fingers, though the thought makes you blush. You begin to remember the night before, almost like a movie reel through your mind… 

Ooooh, right. That’s what happened.

It starts at Sam Winchester’s joint bachelor-bachelorette party at a nice hotel downtown. He and Eileen aren't the "strippers and coke" kind of party couple. They're more the "wine and brie en croute with pickled olives" on the expensive crackers you can't afford—kind of couple.

They look perfectly in love, if a bit long-suffering while Dean gives a hilarious, somewhat inappropriate, but still ultimately heartwarming toast to their happiness. After lowering the glass of champagne from his lips, his gaze catches on yours in the crowd. You suck in a subtle breath. 

Technically you’ve met him already, being one of Eileen’s bridesmaids, but there’s something about his green eyes that pin you to the floor. When he hands over the mic to Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, his head turning away from you to offer her a smile breaks the spell. It allows you to breathe.

Dean later finds you by the bar. You’re drinking a rum and coke with your slice of cake, trying not to get a single crumb on your dress. You've put a lot of work into affording it, let alone fitting in it. He leans his elbows casually on the counter and looks over at you.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he nods at you with a smile, subtly taking you in first. Then, his eyes go to your plate. “Ooh, red velvet. Gotta get me some of that.”

You smile back at him. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, looks good in your hand,” he says, adding a teasing wink for good measure.

You don't know why that does it for you, but a half-flattered, half-nervous laugh tumbles out of your mouth. Sam has warned you before about Dean. Apparently his older brother is a bit of a flirt; a ladies’ man.

A man whore, are the words Eileen used.

You’re honestly surprised he’s talking to you when Eileen’s other bridesmaids, Lisa and Jo, are sipping martinis together down at the other end of the bar. Guess they didn’t want cake.

They look beautiful in their lithe, strapless little cocktail dresses. You’ve had to give up chocolate, bread, and cheese for three months straight to fit into this dress, something slinky and red that drapes over your thicker, curvy figure. But you’re proud of the fact that you’re letting yourself eat cake tonight, even though you’ve often felt like Mrs. Doubtfire while standing for pictures next to Lisa and Jo.

They’re Eileen’s friends, not so much your crowd. No matter how much you’ve tried to get to know them while helping the wedding planning in whatever way you can, you still get a high school clique vibe from the women, if with more “polite smiles.” Then they’ll typically go back to talking about crystal centerpieces—or whatever in-depth conversation they were having before you were there. 

But right now, Dean’s focus is on you. When he asks you more about yourself, you tell him about recently earning an elementary education degree.

“Ah, but you already knew that, because Sam told you we graduated college together,” you realize, with warmth tingeing your cheeks. That subject came up pretty quickly when he introduced you to his brother.

Dean’s smile confirms your suspicions, so you just keep filling the silence on reflex.

“Well, I actually just started teaching my first ever semester of second graders. They’re a bit of a handful, but overall, they’re really sweet.” Your smile falters. “Except for this one kid who likes to put little tacks on my chair. He’s kind of a menace, but I think if I bribe him with enough lollipops, he’ll give it a rest. I mean, it’s a behavioral issue and I should probably call his parents. But it's kind of hard to tell them their son is trying to make my ass into a pincushion."

Dean's laugh comes out in a sharp burst, like he wasn't expecting what just came out of your mouth. You didn't either, honestly. You giggle more out of embarrassment, ducking your head.

"He’s in second grade, you know?" you say, in between laughter. "I don't think that little footnote needs to end up on his permanent record. But then there's Micah. He's so friggin' smart. He can read at the fifth grade level already. Can you believe that? And I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but his grades on his spelling tests get him a spot in the comfy bean bag chair pretty much every Friday. Honestly, I think that's what I like about working with kids. I get to see that spark on their face when something just finally clicks for them. Their little faces get all bright and happy and…ugh. God, I'm sorry. I'm rambling, right?”

You stop yourself with a hand sliding over your mouth, not quite covering your smile of embarrassment.

Dean’s grin just widens, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

"It's okay. I kinda like it," he teases.

You duck your head, biting your lip against a groan. He chuckles and reaches out for your hand, earning your nervous glance. He quirks his head.

“Hey, you're passionate about what you do, helping kids. That's nothin' to be ashamed of,” he says, brushing his thumb over your hand. “But sweetheart, I gotta ask. Am I making you nervous or something?”

God, yes, you think, especially at that sweetheart thing. It’s making your heartbeat tick up a syncopated rhythm, but you shake your head, biting the straw of your rum and coke.

“No, not at all,” you say, in a hopefully “breezy” kind of way. You touch your fingers to his wrist. “Tell me about you though. Sam mentioned that you’re a firefighter?”

“Ah, yeah. Firefighter in training,” he says, with a more genuine smile.

He just started at the Fire Academy, and he tells you about all the drills he’s had to learn and all the training he’s had to do to be able to keep up with his classes. You subtly eye him while you sip at your drink, and you notice the crisp cut of his buttoned-down shirt and leather jacket, the definition of muscle across his thighs under the slacks, even while he casually sits.

Your gaze subtly travels down his long bowed legs, smart dress shoes. His cologne is woody and masculine, but not overpowering; maybe bergemot and sandalwood. It pleasantly wafts under your nose every time he gestures with his hands while he talks.

“Aw man, I can’t hold out anymore. I think I need to get me some of that cake before it’s gone,” he says, getting up from his chair.

You’re a bit disappointed that he’s leaving, until he stops short.

“You want another piece?” he offers, gesturing at your empty plate that’s been resting on the counter.

You blink in surprise, but you shake your head. “Oh, no. I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It’s a party,” Dean reasons. His grin is too damn infectious. It has you smiling, and begrudgingly agreeing.

Not only does he bring you more cake, but you watch him eat three whole slices before he asks you to dance.

The rest of it flashes through your mind like strobe lights—the way he’d started small and respectful with his larger hand closed over yours and the other along the curve of your waist. He guided you closer and closer, until you were turned around into his arms, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

You felt his lips teasing your skin. Then those hands tantalizingly drifted down your every soft curve, as if showing you a preview of everything he could do to you, and every way he’d make you come apart. You believed him.

And when he whispered in your ear, asking if he could take you home, you let him.

You let him drive you in that big black piece of history he drives. Used to be my dad’s car, he said. A Chevy something. You couldn’t really remember much when his hand was drifting up and down your thigh like that.

His presence burned hot at your back when you two eventually got to the front door of your apartment, your hands just barely shaking as you got the key in. Twist and click—

He waited until you flipped the lights on. Then he turned you around slowly in his arms and pulled you in close, all the while asking you with his eyes and raised brows. This okay? You want this?

“Do I still make you nervous?” he asked, his lips twitching at a smile when yours do.

You nodded, uttering a small giggle. “In a good way.”

That was when he finally kissed you, hot and slow, like he meant to devour you whole. He moaned at the taste of you, at the feel of your ass squeezed in his hands. You clung onto him strong, breathing into his kiss and trying to meet every single demand of his lips.

It soon became a fiery tear to your bedroom, one lamp flicked on, hot breaths and nice clothes crumpled to the floor. You didn’t feel self-conscious even once when he guided you under him on the bed, because he wasted no time in taking you apart, inch by inch.

His lips kissed and licked and sucked a burning trail down your neck, over your collarbone and between your breasts. You felt his hardened length trapped between your bodies while his hands explored you, teasing your breasts and sensitive nipples, and he mapped his way down with his lips.

You explored every part of him you could—every dip of muscle, firm shoulders and the slopes of his back, and then back up to tangle in his hair. Your heated gasps and whimpers filled the room when his sinful mouth found what it was looking for between your legs.

It wasn’t often that you had a strong pair of shoulders to rest your thighs on, but Dean’s grip was hard enough to leave deep fingerprints of pressure on each thigh while he slipped his tongue through your folds and feasted on you.

“D-Dean, oh God,” you gasped. Every sound you made was a sensuous symphony in his ears, washing over his skin and making the well of his desire churn hot in his lower belly. He had to roll his hips into the mattress for some relief for his aching cock, even while he moved his mouth up to your clit, circling the swollen bud with his tongue. He had enough room to slip two fingers deep inside your sopping wet channel, exploring you deeply, stroking and twisting to find what you needed.

Your thighs trembled and squeezed tight on either side of his head. When he sucked your clit tight between his lips, you uttered as gasping moan as that coil snapped its release. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers. Yours clenched tightly in his hair, threatening to rip out a few strands.

Dean stroked you all through your first orgasm, giving slower licks to your clit. He seemed to sense when you couldn’t handle anymore though. You tugged more sharply on his hair, and he finally pulled away, moving back up your body to gauge your reaction.

You’d collapsed boneless against the bed, but you still managed to smile up at him as you caught your breath.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked. But his self-satisfied grin almost made you laugh. You took his glistening face between your hands and pulled him down for a grateful kiss.

After a moment to savor your lips, he broke away for a second to catch his breath himself. You stroked his back all the while.

“You know, for a minute down there, I thought you might not let me come back up,” he teased.

You choked on a laugh, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Honestly wouldn’t have minded if you did suffocate me,” he chuckled, accompanied by a slap to your left ass cheek. You squealed, and blushed hotly at the way he was grinning down at you.

“Ready for more, baby? Or you want to call it a night?” he asked. His tone was playful, but it was actually a serious question. You blinked in surprise. You’d never had a guy be this, well…generous, and not expect anything in return, especially not for just a hookup.

But you shook your head and sat up, slipping a hand behind Dean’s neck. After a beat of hesitation, you guided him down to you for a slow, sensuous kiss.

“No, I don’t want to call it a night,” you whispered. Your hand drifted down his bare chest, and lower still. You showed him just how well you could return the favor.

And now, come the morning, you’re blushing down to your neck as each scene flashes through your mind. You feel the ghost of his hands all over your body, and how you’d never quite felt quite as bold and sexy and beautiful with a near stranger as you had with Dean effing Winchester. Your best friend’s brother.

You begin to worry your bottom lip with your teeth. How the hell are you going to tell Sam? Especially after he warned you about exactly this. Plus, there’s a reason you don’t typically do the one-night stand thing, and this has the potential to become something very complicated.

You know what, it’s fine! you think. We’re two consenting adults. We’re both single. And maybe…maybe it could be more than a hookup. Maybe we can see each other again, see where it goes.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Dean says, his voice croaking with sleep.

You look down at him in surprise. His eyes have cracked open and he has your hand captive, stopping you from continuing to idly trace patterns on his bare chest. You smile in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you say. Again, you bite your lower lip. “Um, good morning.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” he grins lazily. “You sure wore me out last night.”

Your smile becomes more genuine, even if you turn your face away somewhat shyly.

“Aw, don’t do that,” Dean says. He slides his hand up your arm and behind your neck, tangling into your already tangled hair when he guides you down to his lips for a kiss. “You were awesome.”

You giggle against his lips. “Really?”

“Hell, yeah,” he says, kissing you again.

You shake your head a little. “You were…”

Amazing. Unbelievable. Probably the best night I’ve ever had.

“Perfect,” you decide. Because it’s the truth. The word comes out of your mouth before you can filter yourself though, making you pause. Dean does too, but after a beat, he slowly smiles.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

You lick your lips, and you nod. “Definitely.”

“Well, then,” he says. His hand moves down to squeeze your hip. “You down for a repeat performance?”

You smile. “Only if I get a turn.”

Bracing your hands on his chest, you slide your thigh across his lap so you can straddle his hips. Dean grins and goes along with your idea. He gets a nice healthy handful of your thighs and helps settle you on top of him. But first, he reaches over into your nightstand drawer and finds another condom, ripping it open with his teeth.

Just like you did for him last night, you take the packet, as well as his generous length in your hands. You gently stroke him to full mast, smiling pleased at his groan of pleasure. Then you carefully fit the condom over him.

“You’re so gentle with me,” he teases. 

“Just returning the favor,” you quip, just before you position him at your wet entrance. Slowly, you sink down over his cock.

You both moan at the feeling of him stretching you again, warm and thick and fitting perfectly nestled deep inside. There had been moments last night where he wasn’t all that gentle, actually, but his passion had only spurred yours on more. You know you’ll probably find fingerprint marks on your thighs and ass, but it’s fucking worth it, you think, as you begin to bob a rocking rhythm that serves you both.

Dean arches his back underneath you, his knees coming up to press against your ass.

“Goddamn, baby. Givin’ me quite a show,” he says, in a panting voice that’s deep as sin.

You utter a breathy laugh.

Dean means it though. He’s enjoying the way you brush your hair out of your face, your beautiful tits in his face while you truly let loose for him. He guides you by the stronghold he has on your hips, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he ruts up into you, meeting your thrusts.

Your breath quickens, your nails digging into his chest on reflex, and your heart races as that delicious pleasure builds. But when Dean snakes a hand between you and further parts your folds to massage tight circles over your clit, your vision flashes white. You utter a scream of pleasure on his name, your inner walls choking him tight as you throb around his cock. His release hits him like a goddamn freight train.

“Aw, fuck,” he grunts.

He slams your hips down hard, making your thighs slap against his. A ragged groan escapes him in a rush. His hands move to your thighs just under your ass, where his fingers press into flesh hard enough to leave forensic ID, giving him leverage to bury himself deep into your pussy as he spills a hot release into the condom.

Goddamn…

He can almost imagine that he’s coming free inside you, that you’re milking his cock for every drop, until there’s nothing left for him to give.

The thought surprises him. It almost takes him out of the moment, honestly. That’s not a thought he’s ever had before—not with a woman he barely knows (which is most of his hookups, if he’s honest).

In that delicious, fractious moment just after it hits, it’s like those few seconds are suspended in zero gravity. Your arms are shaking, and your forced to collapse against his chest. Dean welcomes you there for a little while, letting you come down while he smooths a hand over your hair.

Though he can't help the urge to let his big hand drift down over your dewy skin, down the gentle slope of your back and over the curve of your generous ass. He gives one cheek a teasing slap. The sound echoes in the room.

"Goddamn perfect ass," he says roughly, smirking at your squeal. You end up grinning hard against his neck.

"'S that my new nickname?" you quip.

He chuckles deeply, moving you along with his chest. "Hell, sweetheart, if you want it to be."

Eventually, you lean back to give him a smile and one last kiss before you pull away from him. You slip off his lap to find your robe, at least. You definitely need a shower.

“So I’m thinking, after we get cleaned up, I could make us some breakfast,” you offer. “Or if you want, maybe we could go somewhere. I know a little diner down the block.”

“I like the sound of food,” Dean agrees with a smile. Ge reaches over for his phone on the nightstand, to check the time. His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

He has to get his ass over to the Fire Academy. He has class in barely twenty minutes.

He tears out of bed and nearly trips on the coiled sheets.

“Sorry. Gonna need to take a raincheck,” he says. He hurries to find his clothes strewn all over your bedside floor.

“What’s the matter?” you ask with wide eyes. You cross your arms under your breasts, but it’s more like you’re hugging yourself over your robe. You watch him tear through your bedroom in a tempest of movement.

Dean spares you a glance, but not much else as he yanks up his slacks and belt and dress shirt.

“Gotta get to class,” he confesses. Thank God he has his uniform in the trunk of his car for exactly these kinds of emergencies. He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys, and quickly kisses you on the cheek. He gazes down at you apologetically. “Sorry I gotta cut and run, sweetheart, but it’s been fun.”

Your smile barely reaches your eyes. He’s pressed for time, but he still notices.

He slows himself down and cups your cheek. “Hey.”

He gets your pretty eyes looking up at him, and he gives you a real kiss, nice and slow. He cradles your cheek and brushes his thumb across your skin.

“Thanks,” he says. His now familiar grin manages to make you smile. “And I mean that.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay go, Mr. Future Fireman. Be safe out there, okay?”

He gives you a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

You can’t help but laugh. This guy’s too much. But you don't think you've had this much fun having sex in...

All right, let's not put a timeframe on it.

You watch him leave your apartment, even though you have a sinking feeling in your chest. You knew this was just a hookup for him, for both of you. Part of you just couldn’t help hoping that it could’ve led to something more. 

Dean means to call you.

He really does.

After that truly awesome, you shook me all night long, kind of a night, he thinks about you more than he’d like to admit over the next few weeks. However, he finds himself locked into his training. He’s so close to finishing strong and earning his badge, he just can’t afford any more distractions.

Still, he should’ve known that Sam would find out—either through Eileen, or through you directly. He also should’ve expected the way his brother let him have it.

“And you didn’t even fucking call her. See? This is why I don’t set you up with any of my friends anymore,” Sam bitches at him from his side of the small two-seater dinner table. They still share an apartment, though in just a month and a half, Sam’s going to be moving out. He and Eileen already found a house that they’re moving into after the wedding.

“Look, I was going to call her, man. They’ve just been bustin’ my ass at the Academy!” Dean argues.

“Bullshit.” Sam levels him with the same finger that holds his beer.

Dean’s brows raise, high and annoyed. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. Because if you really liked her, respected her, and respected me, you would’ve made the time,” Sam says.

That falls heavy between the brothers for a moment while they eat their pizza.

“Look, I know her. She doesn’t do hookups that often, which means…she probably liked you,” Sam adds. “And honestly, when are you going to give it a real try with someone? You can only visit that free clinic so many times.”

Dean shoots him a glare. He’s had a clean bill of health from said clinic for six months straight.

“Jesus Christ. Enough, all right?” he grouses. “What’re you, Mom?”

“I’m just saying,” Sam says, lowering his crust to the plate. He levels his brother with a more earnest look, lightening up from his anger. “Look, if it’s about what happened to Dad—”

“What, you mean the way he drank himself to death after Mom died?” Dean says. His voice cuts through whatever softball glove Sam is trying to handle him with. “You think that’s the kind of thing I should be looking for in my life?”

“Oh, and what, do you think I’m making a mistake marrying Eileen?” Sam counters.

Dean sighs, shaking his head. “Damn it, don’t put words in my mouth. That’s not what I’m saying, it’s just…I don’t know. Maybe that kind of life—the house, the wife, the 2.5 kids and the dog. Maybe that’s just not my life, okay?”

Sam gives him a long look. He lets go of a deep breath, and he shrugs.

“Okay,” he says. “If you think hooking up night after night for the rest of your life is going to make you happy, then fine.”

Dean nods, glad that they can put an end to this little After School Special.

“Okay.”

Still, he can’t finish his third slice of pizza. He keeps picturing your face when he left you that morning. No matter how you tried to hide it, he still saw the tinge of disappointment in your eyes. It brews something uncomfortable in his stomach, and a sting in his chest.

You’re eating lunch alone in your classroom, finally on your break, when an unfamiliar number flashes across your phone screen. You look down at it in confusion, but with all the caterers and florists and things you’ve helped Eileen with on the wedding, you figure it could be important. You pick up the call and greet whoever’s on the line.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

You drop your ham and cheese on your keyboard, gaping in surprise.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he chuckles slightly. “Sorry, I know it’s been a minute.”

You frown, because you’re confused more than anything.

“Yeah, like almost a month,” you reply. You put the call on speaker so you can grab up your sandwich and quickly brush off the crumbs from your keyboard. You struggle to say something cool, clever, sexy even. “I’m okay. Just, um…what’s up?”

Smooth, real smooth. You cover your eyes with your hand.

“Nothin’, I was just thinking of that night,” he says. “I had a good time.”

Your frown deepens, despite the beginning of a blush warming your cheeks. If he’s calling you just for another hookup…

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.”

And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

“I could make us some burgers, toss in a couple of beers and a movie night,” he adds.

That part throws you though, you’re not going to lie. What, is this a Netflix and chill situation—with a side of fries?

You consider it. You weigh pros and cons at a frightening speed in your mind, almost like Sherlock Holmes contemplating the layout of a dead body and deducing within moments that his wife committed the murder, despite the man no longer wearing a ring.

You want to let yourself be bold and spontaneous and carefree...but it's just not who you are at your core. You're a planner, a cautious person who looks three ways before crossing the street. Letting Dean take you home that night was certainly one of the most spontaneous, wild things you've done since your friends took you out to a strip club after you aced your final round of exams back in college.

(Sam hadn't been there that night, but he did get an embarrassing drunken text from you at 3:00 a.m., along with a few shame-ridden pictures fueled by questionable substances. Yes, he still had the evidence.)

You just don't know if it's smart to let yourself hookup with Dean again. Mostly because you know your heart has the tendency to get attached, no matter how much you warn it not to.

“You know, Dean, I’m pretty busy with my job right now. I just started here a couple of months ago, and I think I just need to focus on that right now,” you say. Part of it isn’t a lie, even though your soft heart is stinging.

“Ah, okay. Yeah. I get that,” he says. You hear his disappointment too. “But I just need to say, I really am sorry for not calling you sooner.”

Your lips tug at a smile. “It’s okay, Dean. Look, you’re Sam’s brother. I just feel like, maybe it’s better if you and I stay friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Dean says wryly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t have three rounds of steamy hot sex with any of my friends.”

Your blush comes swiftly again, burning in your cheeks.

“Be that as it may,” you say, “I just don’t want to do anything that will distract from Sam and Eileen’s wedding.”

“Oh, I’m a distraction, huh?” Dean says flirtatiously. 

You begin to smile in earnest. “I think you know damn well what you are, Dean Winchester.”

His deep chuckle practically resonates through the phone and into your chest, going straight down to your pussy. You clench on nothing just at the sound of his voice, making you cross your legs under your skirt. Dear God…

How are you supposed to be even remotely normal around this man now? 

But for Sam’s sake (and your own), you’ll have to try. 

Two months later, Dean has taken Sam’s dating advice to heart. A week or so after you turned him down, he ran into Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, while he was at the grocery store buying beer and Twizzlers. She was a smart, sharp, sexy brunette. A yoga instructor, he soon found out. So he took a chance on asking her out. They’ve been going slow and steady ever since. 

Dean hasn’t heard from you since the rehearsal dinner, but he sees you again at his brother’s wedding. All the bridesmaids are wearing long, royal blue dresses that drape off the shoulders and hug the bust and waist, flaring gently at the skirt. Lisa and Jo wear it beautifully, their hair perfectly smooth and coiled. 

But when you step out into the hall outside the church ballroom to join them, Dean actually pauses in what he’s saying to his brother. He nearly double takes when you enter his line of vision—mostly because he hasn’t seen you in a dress since that night. You were sexy as hell then, a lady in red. 

Today, you’re absolutely stunning. 

After greeting Sam with a warm hug, you turn to him with a nervous kind of smile. “H-Hey, Dean.”

With that, he snaps out of it. Dean smiles, eyes crinkling, and goes over to give you a hug as well.

“Good to see you,” he says, trying not to inhale too much of your nice perfume. It’s even in your hair.

“You too,” you reply. Your smile is a little brighter, more genuine. Though there’s something behind your eyes that he can’t quite place.

What he doesn’t notice is the way Lisa is watching you and her boyfriend, a hint of suspicion on her face.

You do though. You pull away from Dean and assemble into a line with Lisa at the helm. As the Best Man, Dean stands with her, followed by Jo and Brady, another one of Sam’s buddies. You and Benny bring up the rear. Benny’s dad used to work with John, Sam and Dean’s father, on the police force.

According to Sam, John Winchester worked a beat for twenty-six years before his liver finally gave out on him. Dean almost went to the Police Academy to follow in his dad’s footsteps, but Benny, already working his way up to Lieutenant, suggested Dean become a smoke eater instead. The suggestion stuck.

Benny Lafitte is slightly shorter than Dean, but just as broad-shouldered, his auburn beard neatly trimmed. Even though you might’ve thought he was rough around the edges at first, his kind blue eyes spoke the contrary. He offers you his arm like a gentleman.

“Well aren't I lucky, getting the prettiest girl on my arm,” he says, with a charming smile.

You smile, and even begin to blush at the way he subtly takes note of you from head to toe.

“Well, thank you. You’re very handsome yourself. Although, hold on.” You slip your arm out of his for a moment so that you can fix his tie. It’s slightly crooked. You make sure that it lays flat under his collar, smoothing down all the edges and picking off any small dust particles that landed on his collar. Benny watches you with an indulgent smile.

“Am I good?” he asks.

“Very,” you reply.

“I appreciate it, thank you,” he says. You don’t know if he means to sound flirtatious, but his voice is a deep drawl that washes over you pleasantly. You find yourself blushing down to your neck as you slip your arm back around his.

You also don’t notice how Dean glances at you and Benny over his shoulder.

As much as you love Sam and Eileen, it’s difficult for you to keep your mind from spinning into fractals as the ceremony goes on. You can’t help but glance at Dean. He stands there behind Sam dutifully, but you see brotherly pride in Dean’s eyes, in his smile. It makes you smile too. You too love Sam like a brother, and it brings a well of happy tears to your eyes to watch him have his moment with his new wife.

It just also reminds you of what you need to do.

After the ceremony ends and the bridal party files out behind the bride and groom, you excuse yourself from Benny apologetically. You wait until Lisa and Jo go off to take pictures with Sam and Eileen, and you grab Dean’s wrist, pulling him aside.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper.

Dean gives you a confused look. “They’re gonna need us for the pictures.”

“I know, but this is important,” you say. Your voice trembles with nerves, and so do your hands. Dean notices, frowning in concern. He grasps your arm to try and steady you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Just come with me,” you implore him. You take his hand and lead him into the women’s dressing room attached to the church sanctuary you all just came out of.

Dean raises his brows at the mess you and the rest of the bridesmaids have made of the room—pantyhose and makeup and clothing litter the floor and most available surfaces, while leftover breakfast sandwiches, grapes, salami, and cheddar cheese cubes are splayed out across one of the vanity counters. Dean is tempted to steal a morsel, but he focuses on you first.

You close and lock the door, which makes his brows raise high again. You know he has a girlfriend now, right?

“Uhh, look, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but—”

You heave a sigh. Again, you take his hand and guide him to sit with you at the vanity. The old stools squeak, the overhead lights a bit too bright. This is not where you want to do this, but you can’t hold it in anymore.

“Dean, I’m pregnant,” you confess.

He freezes. His breath stills in his lungs. His eyes slowly widen as the words click in his brain.

“What?” His head tilts, as if he didn’t hear you right.

You squeeze his hand; to ground him or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I’m about two months pregnant. I found out last week.”

Dean swipes his free hand over his mouth while he tries to compute. He squeezes your hand, tighter and tighter. He points to himself.

“It’s…it’s me? It’s mine?”

You give him a weary smile. “You’re the only one I’ve been with in the last few months. It could only be you.”

Oh fuck. The man’s face begins to pale as he descends into shock.

“But we…I used a condom,” he reasons. “All the—all the times!”

You bite your lip. If you weren’t freaking the fuck out yourself, you’d probably be laughing right now. Granted, you’ve had a bit more time to process this than Dean.

“I know, I was there,” you reply, releasing yet another sigh. “One of them probably broke. That’s all I can think of… Honestly, Dean, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just didn’t want to disrupt the ceremony or cause a scene before the wedding. But now you know.”

Dean falls silent then. He hasn’t let go of your hand, which you think is a decent sign. He’s likely forgotten that you’re still holding it as he stares off into the middle distance for several seconds.

Eventually, he shakes his head and returns his gaze to yours. He looks uncertain, his handsome face the true epitome of holy fucking shit.

You know the feeling.

But he asks the most important question.

“What do you want to do?”

Briefly you close your eyes as you take a breath. You squeeze his hand before you let go of him.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, and…I’m keeping the baby,” you tell him, though you raise placating hands. “I don’t want money, or anything like that. I just wanted you to know that it’s yours. How much you want to be in his or—or her life, that’s up to you.”

Dean takes a beat before he answers, but you don’t have to wait so long holding your breath.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll help you. Don’t worry,” he says.

And just like that, all the time you spent giving yourself pep talks for this, telling yourself that you’ll need to be strong no matter what he says, all of it crumbles into relief. Your lower lip trembles, and your body shudders as you break into tears. You try covering your face to hide your shame, but Dean grasps your shoulders.

“Hey, hey. It’s all right,” he says. He tentatively pulls you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You nod into his dress shirt, probably staining him with your running makeup.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a bit tighter in response.

You and Dean agree to keep this to yourselves for now, at least until Sam and Eileen get back from their honeymoon. It’s difficult to explain why your eyes are all red and your makeup is smudged, but you promise Sam that you’ll tell him later. You know it’s pointless to lie to him though. As a lawyer, his bullshit meter is far too high.

However, you also know that he’s half guessed it by the time you all make it to the reception. When you and Dean came out of that dressing room to join the bridal party for pictures, you're sure that you looked emotionally wrecked. Dean had looked pale as a sheet, his body coiled and tense, as willing himself to seem normal. Sam had clocked both of you with a raise of his brow, but he didn't say anything then, especially after you gave him a pleading look.

While Eileen greets her family without him for a moment, Sam pulls you aside. He notes your glass of diet coke, in a moderate sea of guests drinking champagne and cocktails.

“Are you okay?” he asks knowingly.

Tears well up in your eyes again. You don’t know if it’s your damn hormones going haywire, or just the way Sam asks you, with the love of a friend in his eyes. He squeezes your shoulder gently, prompting you with your name.

“Yeah, I think I will be,” you say.

"Is it the same reason you're not drinking?" he asks. "You and Dean earlier..."

You hesitantly confirm with a nod. Sam blows out a harsh sigh, raising folded hands to his mouth as he processes. You begin to look around on reflex, trying to see if anyone's watching you and Sam have this conversation in the middle of the reception. To your relief, everyone around you seems occupied with drinks, hours d'oeuvres and conversation.

“What did he say when you told him?” Sam asks. His gaze is firmer. You get the idea that if he doesn’t like what you tell him, then he’s about to go grab his brother by the ear himself.

You grab his wrist and give a placating squeeze. “He said he's going to help me, be there for me.”

“Damn right. So will I,” Sam nods, and glances back at Eileen, his new bride, with a smile. “We both will.”

“I know,” you nod as well. “I’ll be okay, Sam. You don’t have to worry so much. Just enjoy your wedding day. It’s the only one you’re gonna get. Well, you know…hopefully.”

You tease him with a wink.

Sam laughs, cupping your cheek. He kisses your other cheek.

“I love you, you know that right?” he says.

You give him a trembling smile through your tears.

Meanwhile, Dean has a beautiful woman in his arms. He turns Lisa on the dancefloor, trying not to trip on his own dress shoes, all the while knowing that his brain isn’t here in his body. It’s across the ballroom, watching you talk to Sam. Dean can tell that he knows, just in his Big Bird body language. He’d also recognize that accompanying Bitch Face anywhere.

“Dean, what’s wrong,” Lisa asks him, and not for the first time. She’s getting annoyed, he can tell. She finally looks over to where he keeps glancing, and she notices you with a frown. It’s also not the first time she’s caught him staring at you tonight.

“What was that earlier in the dressing room? She didn’t really get food poisoning, did she?” she asks pointedly. “What, did you two used to date or something?”

He gives a wan smile. “Yeah, kinda. We…had a thing once.”

“What kind of thing?”

Dean closes his eyes and tries to keep himself calm. He’s pretty sure if he tells her the truth right now, she’s going to find the nearest cocktail and dump it over his head.

But shit, here it goes.

“Well…”

After a long day at school, you drive over to Dean’s apartment. You’d agreed to meet there and wait for him to get off his shift at Firehouse 83, where he just started as a full-fledged firefighter on probation. When he gets home, he’s supposed to go with you to an important appointment with your OB-GYN. 

You were hoping he’d already be done with work by the time you got to his place, but Lisa's there to open the door for you. Apparently, he’d already given her a key.

Moving kind of fast, but okay, you think. A second later, you could’ve rolled your eyes at yourself. Pot, kettle, me. Got it.

Lisa greets you with a “polite” smile at best, but she does offer you water at least. You really can’t blame her for not liking you though. She found out her boyfriend got another woman pregnant right before he started dating her. Really, she has more balls than you for staying with him. You wouldn't put it past Dean to somehow have smooth-talked her into giving him a chance.

Or she really loves him. The thought sobers you as you lower yourself down to the couch beside her. Both of you sit there in silence for a moment, trying to figure out something to talk about.

“So, you’re what, six months pregnant?” she asks.

You correct her in thinly veiled annoyance. “Three months, actually.”

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know why I thought it was six.”

You have a feeling her awkward chuckle is fake, however. She knew good and damn well that you’re not six months pregnant. In her eyes, you must be the size of a parade float. 

“If you want, I can recommend a holistic diet to help you get your body back after the baby’s born,” Lisa offers. “No pills, no chemicals. Just good clean weight loss.”

You feign interest. Honestly, you’d like her to cram that offer right up her hooch.

“I can even give you a discount if you want to try out yoga,” she says. “It’s low impact, but you burn plenty of calories. I have a beginner’s class, not too strenuous. Even my least flexible clients manage to do the poses.”

Is that why Dean likes you? Because you’re bendy? Bet if I sat on you, you’d pop like a fucking balloon.

You hide all of these thoughts behind a “polite” smile of your own.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you reply. It’s non-committal enough, but hopefully it’ll get her off your back.

No such luck.

“You know, maintaining a healthy diet is really important for the baby’s health too,” Lisa adds. “It’s not just about avoided raw fish and dairy products. Oh, and processed food is obviously a no-go. Like, I’m sure you haven’t been hitting Taco Bell and all that stuff, right?”

As a matter of fact, you’ve been eating clean since long before you got pregnant. Not that it’s any business of hers whether you enjoy the occasional quesadilla or not.

Your temper snaps at its leash. You open your mouth to reply, when the front door unlocks and opens to Dean, stepping in through the threshold.

Thank God, you and Lisa both think. She gets up quicker from the couch than you, greeting her boyfriend with a kiss. You avert your gaze while you begin to get up yourself.

Dean reaches out to help you, grasping your arm in support. You shoot him a smile.

“I can still get up by myself,” you snip.

“Yeah, all right. Just in case,” he says with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s rock and roll,” you say, trying to hide your worsening mood. You’re exhausted, and irritated, and probably more than a little hangry. Except now, the idea of food just has you feeling guilty for even being hungry.

“Bye, hun. Hope you have a good appointment,” Lisa says, giving your shoulder a pat. You give her the most genuine smile you can muster as you thank her. It's possibly that she's one of those women who don't realize when they're being cunty, but you find it highly unlikely. She's too smart for that.

You follow Dean out the door and over to his car, big and black and sleek as you remember. You settle into the passenger seat with your arms crossed in silence. Dean switches the cassette to one of his favorite Led Zeppelin albums, though he notices your grumpy face.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

You give him some side-eye, but you’re reluctant to say anything. You just shake your head. As irritated as you are, you don’t want to be the friend who badmouths his girlfriend.

God, are we even friends? You wonder. Or am I just his knocked-up baby momma?

And again, you realize that this whole situation is probably hard for Lisa. You just don’t know if she’s jealous, or if she just…doesn’t like you.

“I’m okay,” you tell Dean.

He raises a skeptical brow. Looks like Sam isn’t the only one with a finely tuned bullshit meter.

“All right, how about this,” Dean says. “Let’s grab some burgers after this, huh? From your favorite spot. Shake Shack, right? Side of fries, frozen yogurt. I think I’ll get chocolate this time… Hmm, I doubt Lisa will want anything. She’s gone on an all-vegan kick or something.”

For one shining moment, you were happy and touched at his consideration. But now your body stills in your seat when you remember Lisa’s words. Tears well up in your eyes with a hot sting, and a sob escapes your throat.

Dean is cut off from thinking about getting extra bacon on his burger. He looks over at you in alarm. “H-Hey, what’s the matter?”

You scoff at him through your tears. “Are you kidding me? I can’t eat burgers anymore, Dean. I was already fucking fat. Now it’s just gonna get ridiculous.”

“What?” Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, along with his deepening frown. It gets worse as he tries to watch the road ahead, while at the same time, watching you continue to crumble.

“And after the birth, I’m just going to be an even fatter slob who can’t take care of her baby,” you sniffle and weep, trying in vain to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself.

Dean grits his teeth, his jaw twitching. Fuck it.

He turns the steering wheel sharp enough to startle a gasp out of you.

“Dean!”

He pulls the car over onto the side of the road, ignoring the honking SUV behind him. He shifts into Park and shuts off the radio—a big red flag, in your opinion. He’s upset too, and fucking serious, more so than you’ve ever seen him. You stare back at him with wide eyes.

“I’ve never once heard you say that you’re fat,” he says.

You blink at that, but eventually, you’re able to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth. You wipe the remnants of tears from your cheeks. Your face is already hot from your upset, now tinged with embarrassment.

“You haven’t known me very long,” you say quietly.

It doesn’t help. Dean’s jaw ticks again.

“Well, I’ve never thought it. Not even once,” he says. His jade green eyes are firmly set on yours, and he gestures between you and him with a pointed finger. “The reason you and I are here right now, is because the minute I saw you, I wanted you.”

One corner of his lips kicks upwards. “And that night, you didn’t disappoint.”

Your mouth falls open slightly. You don’t know how to respond, but you do know that a full blush is warming your face and neck. His words have power, and unbidden, they bloom a similar warmth between your legs. You swallow a bit nervously as you bite your bottom lip.

Dean glances down at your mouth when you do. He can remember what your pretty mouth did for him that night. Oh, he remembers all too well. He even had the shade of your lipstick streaked across his skin until he showered up at the firehouse.

He locks that all away when shifts the car back into Drive. If you’re going to make it to this appointment on time, he needs to get going.

And you both have to leave whatever that was right here by the side of the road.

AN: Woo! 😮‍💨 Yep, this is only Part 1, friends. Lisa is a bit different in this. My take was that without Ben in her life, she might be less mature and a bit more catty. As we get into Part 2 I'll leave it up to you to decide why she decides to stay with Dean, and perhaps more importantly, where the reader and Dean can go from here as co-parents. 🤔

If you enjoyed Part 1, please let me know!~

Next Time in Part 2:

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look, I…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours, and achingly familiar.

⋆˙⟡ Read Part 2 on Patreon now!

⋆˙⟡ Coming to Tumblr/Ao3 on 3/23

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[briechyne]

Yes, I Bought a New Keyboard

So, I finally caved and got myself a new keyboard! No, it’s not a fancy mechanical one (I know, I know, the clicky-clacky sounds are fun), but honestly, that wasn’t my priority. The real reason? My absolutely horrendous posture.

Lately, I’ve caught myself slouching over my laptop like some ancient scholar deciphering a scroll—shoulders hunched, back curled, neck at a weird angle. Basically, I was one bad work session away from fully resembling a pretzel. It was either fix my setup or start accepting my fate as a permanently hunched-over being. So, a new keyboard it was!

I went with one from Miniso, and let me tell you, it’s such a game-changer. The keys are super satisfying to type on—like, that perfect soft click that makes typing weirdly enjoyable. And the best part? No annoying cables or constant charging! It runs on batteries, which (if I remember correctly) should last up to a year. One less thing to worry about in my already chaotic life.

Now, I can finally type without my back screaming in protest. My setup feels so much more comfortable, and honestly, I already feel way more productive. Maybe this is the secret to getting my life together—who knew all it took was a good keyboard?

Oh, and if you’re curious about how my new setup looks (or just want to see more snippets of my daily life), I post a lot of random moments on Instagram—pics, reels, the occasional aesthetic desk shot when I remember. So, keep an eye out over there!

For now, I’m off to enjoy my new, posture-friendly typing experience. My back? Grateful. My fingers? Thriving. My tendency to impulsively buy random but practical things? Still undefeated.

[winters-on-the-wing]

u recently made a post about transphobis in the marauders fandom and I completely agree! Ppl say they're anti jkr and pro trans but only when its u skinny white pure baby being ftm and you poc "agressive" girl being mtf like??? There's a big difference between most ppl saying they don't see reg as mtf and them not seeing James and mtf. There's a bug difference when u say u don't see dorcas or mary as mtf and not seeing lily as mtf. Not seeing reg as trans is "trabsphobic all of a sudden" but not seeing James as trans is the "correct opinion" "reg just gives trans while James doesnt" u sound insane! Like poc people are not inherently masculine in any way shape or form. Poc people can choose to present themselves that way but no one especially not a white person can just say ohh nah you're too masc to be ftm or ur so masc u can't not be mtf! I know its just a stupid fandom "let ppl have their fun" or wtv but NO bcuz these ppl will never grow up! If they get away with these prejudices now they'll carry them on in life. Racists and even unintentional racists, terfs, misogynistic ppl, fascists, aro/acephobes and every other cunt in the field of bigotry deserve to be shamed* (with words not like bullied or hurt) and told that they shouldn't do that. Its so stupid that a fandom that cares so much abt removing themselves from jkr has members that act like they're jkr on secret alt accs

on god

couldn’t have said it better myself

it just pisses me off because they treat transness like an accessory or a weird, fucked up badge of honor. they use it as a way to “give oppression” to characters who are otherwise privileged in every way. to make the tiny little white boys seem more oppressed than they are.

and the effects of transness aren’t even explored past “i cut my hair and stopped wearing dresses and mama still calls me a girl 🥺”. it never goes past that. the trans guys never have a big chest. they’re always conveniently born without one. they’re always conveniently rail thin with no curves. they’re always WHITE and delicate and beautiful. they always adopt the aesthetic of “edgy little kiddo guy in big sweaters with bushy bangs” and there’s no other way to be trans in this fandom. just that. anything else gets hated on or ignored.

as a thin androgynous person with a small chest, i’m sick of seeing people like me get the spotlight endlessly when my struggle is completely different from the wider experience and there are some aspects of transness that i’ll NEVER understand and the fandom doesn’t care about them because they’re hard to romanticize.

can people please just stop romanticizing transness and acting like it only comes in one form? it’s not cute. it’s not progressive. it’s reductive and demeaning.

[i-like-forcefem]

What's a person gotta do to get forcefemmed around here?

(Asking for myself...)

Beg for it! <3 (serious answer under the cut)

It's hard! There's definitely a good bit of people into forcedomming- but I there's a lot lot more cuties desperate to be girlified!

Part of why forcefem is so so appealing is because it means you don't need to put in all the effort needed to transition- someone will "force" you into it! Hold you accountable- ideally even do a lot of steps for you

Dress you up like the cutie you are and give you the night of your life <3

But it's a lot of work! I've tried to digitally forcefem-dom quite a couple times in the past, but it never really worked out! Mainly because I'm massive sub- so subby that it loops back around to me domming folks- and it takes a lot out of you to jump through all these hoops through text!

Basically I just mean to say: I've tried to forcefem folks- it never worked out, BUT! I do have some ideas for how to set up a relationship including forcefem!

1) You and the dom should like eachother outside kink! For me doing kinky things to friends is much much easier!

2) You and your dom need to find a balance! Most doms would be probably be switches or "so subby they dom"- so learning how to dom yourself and giving your Mistress some much needed stress relief could make everything much more sustainable!

In my experience it's a sad reality that all cuties just prefer subbing over domming

3) finally it'd be a massive bonus if you can meet up irl! I'd still love to forcefem someone so much- but I'm done trying to do so through text! Irl you can do her makeup, take her shopping for skirts, and just do so so much more fun stuff then simply ordering her around through a screen

Now! To get to this point you'd need to do one simple thing: Meet with cuties! Talk to people until you find someone with an empty basement

I don't really have experience with finding friends locally- but iirc there's sites for meeting people like that? Or kink meets could be a good place to start if you know someone nice to go with!

But mainly you need to go out of your comfort zone to meet people- OR start running a blog and wait for people to come to you! I'd personally recommend the former! But I've seen my peers find success in the latter! (And if I wasn't so scared to waste someone's time on little on me I'm pretty sure I could find a dom!) But yeah! Hope that kinda helps?

Find another kinky trans girl to play with- and your problem should be solved! And to find her you need to put yourself out there! figure out sites in your area or start talking to people online- there's a lot that goes into making and maintaining friends it'd be a fully separate rant

Gosh gosh- Goodluck getting girlified cutie!

[cocoakisscs]

‘ if someone mistakes you as a street walker in tahiti, i'm going to pretend i don't know you while someone else puts on my sunscreen. ’ he wouldn't leave his boyfriend in jail in a foreign country, of course, but it may take a few hours to come and get him since it'd no doubt have been xavier's fault. ‘ i can choose a nice smile and ass well, you're right. ’ snickering to himself as he leans back into xavier's hold unconsciously, though his reasoning for going into the closet had been for his boyfriend not to be able to keep distracting him. ‘ hey ! i like that shirt. why can't i be the light of your life figuratively, and physically ? ’ wiggles out of xavier's grasp to pluck it from the ground, knowing that it was more fitting to be in some highlighter section of an office supplies store rather than packed for vacation ; but he was allowed to have his fun too. thomas folded it with the intention for it to hit his suitcase regardless of how xavier felt about it, sending a look at his boyfriend from over his shoulder. ‘ gold fixtures ? ’ almost hopes that it's a joke, yet knows in the back of his mind that the jet probably was bigger than his entire apartment with amenities that he'd never experience in his day to day life and would need to splurge a couple of paychecks on to go to a place even somewhat of the same caliber. suddenly, the shirt in his hand looked not just jokingly garrish, but dingy — strained little smile meeting xavier's as he turned to grab more pairs of shorts and swim trucks. ‘ i'm more sure than ever now that i'm going to sleep. ’ maybe by the next morning he wouldn't still feel awkward about it all and surprise them both with the leather chairs getting more action than expected. though he felt the heated look prickling his skin, he pressed the folded clothes into the duffle he'd already dropped onto the floor to put things in. ‘ wasn't that the point of this, anyway ? that you think i'm tired and need to rest myself so i'll, one day, be as beautiful as you ? ’ joking as his thoughts swirl with uncertainty.

"hey, public indecency is just another tuesday for me." xavier wasn't going to bother to deny the accusation. why would he? he fully intended to push his limits while they were there. he always did. "i just hope you'd be sober enough to post my bail." lingering from the sidelines, he was intrigued to watch thomas fumble through his ridiculous attempt at organizing. his lover was overpacking, which was so predictable, really; layering shirts over shorts like they were actually going to need that many clothes in tahiti. he laughed out loud at thomas' following jab. "excuse you, landing a catch like me is a clear sign of impeccable judgment," he insisted, sauntering over to loop his arms around their waist from behind. "admit it, you hit the boyfriend jackpot with me." he nuzzled into their neck, pressing a kiss behind his ear. from that angle, he peeked over their shoulder, and noticed what was in thomas' hands. the moment he saw what it was, he made a face of pure disgust, lips parting just slightly before narrowing his gaze at him. "no. absolutely not," xavier said flatly, shaking his head. plucking the garish yellow shirt from their hands, he tossed it aside with a dismissive sniff. "that shirt is a crime against fashion. against me, personally." he wrinkled his nose. "maybe dating me is the only good taste you've ever shown." he kept his hands to himself, but remained close—it seemed best he didn't keep a distance during the packing process, just in case there were other questionable choices that potentially make the cut. "the bedroom is just one of many amenities," xavier replied with a casual shrug, as if private jets with full-sized beds were a dime a dozen. he was clearly enjoying the way they kept getting surprised by things that were second nature to him. "you should see the bathroom. heated floors. gold fixtures. the whole thing." part of him enjoyed showing off, seeing that look of awe cross his boyfriend's face. another part, one he rarely acknowledged, worried that the gap between their worlds was too wide to ever truly bridge. "you sure about that nap, babe? my father's new gulfstream deserves a proper christening," he teased. "i can guarantee better ways to tire you out." he sported a pout, the very thought of them choosing sleep over joining the mile-high club complicating matters. "tell you what, you can rest up on the way there if you promise to save some energy for me later," he suggested, assessing their frame with a suggestive look. "i have big plans for us in tahiti, and i need you in top form."

[apple-onigiri]

Hey, this is just a curiosity but I saw your map posts and was wondering if you could A. say how big Vaguarde is compared to a real country like you have with the island, B. talk about the climate they'd have when it comes to where they are, if that's in your area of expertise? Feel free to ignore this is it's too much or annoying to do but thank you anyway! I was just wondering and figured that, considering your map posts, you were the best person to ask this. Thank you so much! Have a good day!

ohhh this is such a cool ask and i'm Soooo grateful for it because it's always such a fun topic to talk about but it was very demanding because i'm always constantly overly concerned with details. sorry it took so long to answer because of that!! so!! ╰(*°▽°*)╯

A. the size of vaugarde is around 1,712,931 square kilometers (661,366 square miles). there isn't a country in the real world with this exact size, but the closest in shape and size is sudan with its 1,731,671 square kilometers. i was actually a bit surprised? it's bigger than i expected but i triple-checked the numbers to make sure i didn't fumble yet again but nope, i think that's right! the math portion for all this is, as usual, under the cut!

B. okay, so vaugarde is located snugly between the 10th parallel south and the capricorn tropic (i'm using earth nomenclature for the tropic. c'mon now). the best way to look for evidence for what its climate could be is looking at the earth itself and a big part of the climate is also the currents and winds connected with oceans, so let's take south of brazil as the best equivalent for it, considering they're both located on the east side of the landmass connecting with the ocean.

the best pointers for specific weather is to look for close geographical equivalents to locations we know of, ending up with bambouche - salvador, dormont - belo horizonte and jouvente - rio de janeiro. i'll put the graphs for yearly weather for those under the cut along the scary math, where it belongs.

it's the same with the island - looking for bigger islands at that longitude, right underneath the equator, results in coming across papua new guinea or indonesia.

we don't know any specific locations from the island but i put some weather graphs under the cut for the general climate.

both locations have a tropical climate, with vaugarde being classified more like the savanna type, and the island more of a rainforest. that means both of those regions would experience more of a wet/dry season cycle than the continental four-way split. for all i know. maybe the earth spins the other way in isat for some reason and makes either of them as much of a clusterfuck as the east coast of the united states. have you ever looked at how it looks on the köppen–geiger climate map? with california, the geographical nepobaby and its mediterranean climate thousands of miles away from the actual mediterranean? yeah.

of course, we have the information that the island would get really cold at night but we don't know if it was a regular 'it's cold for inhabitants by comparison' or it was actually somehow abnormally cold. if it was, i'm blaming wish craft and you can throw out the section about the island, leaving only vaugarde's behind. actually, i guess you could do so anyway - not like there's anything where the island used to be, right??

anyway!! hope that answers your question that was, for its difficulties, pretty fun to do! various addendums below the cut for your perusal (❁´◡`❁)

Appendix A

okay so it's really the same method as with calculating the island's size but on a larger scale - i moved vaguarde a bit, going as far as separating the chunk furthest west to make it a bit easier on myself. standard marking and cutting out triangles (and sometimes rectangles!) from the big square. first this part:

then that one, with half of the big square instead:

then this last part, this here with C and D jutting out, so they're getting the opposite treatment (i ran out of space near the marked territory so its two images):

then sum up all the areas you calculated, and there you go :)

Appendix B

here's graphs from salvador, belo horizonte and rio de janeiro respectively.

and here's graphs from port moseby and surabaya.