#what happens if i fail and she finds out…

[hollandsfavbabe]

Wet & Wild II

pairing: art donaldson x reader

synopsis: in which you, a swimmer, and art, a tennis champ, change each other's lives for the better when you challenge his match-like stance on life

warnings: SMUT, porn with a plot, sexually explicit language, cursing, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, nipple play, locker room sex, swimmer lingo

word count: 5.5k

part 1

tags💜: @midnightwrriting @no1runawaymilkdad @ihave-aboringlife @blahhucantmakeme @laniirackssss @blood-bloss @lmaoyani @geminiflanagansblog @ruyaas-world @hrlzy @povobsessed @stephstephstephsteph @chakin @10ava01 @lem0ns77 @velvrei @hdhdhdndhdndk

masterlist

a/n: sorry if the tags aren’t working, I tried to include everyone that wanted it. lmk if you have questions on anything. hope you enjoy!!

A week has passed since the last time you’d seen Art and you try to rid any thoughts of him from your mind as you enter the women’s locker room, the day so early that the sun has only just risen. You’d only spent a few hours with him, but he feels more important to you than a mere acquaintance, especially considering you’d let him have more of you than most people would ever get to. You try to tell yourself it won’t matter if he shows or not, but deep down you know that it will. Regardless, overthinking won’t help you in the water so you shove it down as you steadily pull on your tech suit, careful not to rip the delicate fabric. Your headphones are currently blaring your hype playlist in your ear, but you slide them off once you notice movement to your left as Chloe opens her own locker.

“You ready?” she asks you, pulling out her own racing suit from the depths of her swim bag.

“Not really,” you admit, giving up on stretching your tight suit to your full body frame for the time being as you opt for a tie-back bikini top instead. Your shoulders are ever so grateful. “I’m so nervous.”

“Why? Because of your race or your little tennis boyfriend?” she teases, lips quirking into a classic Chloe smirk. As your best friend, she was the first and only person you told about your interaction with Art at the party and, of course, she had been teasing you about it since. While during practice it was amusing, you are not in the mood for jokes right before a race, especially one of such importance.

You furrow a brow, shaking your head to signal that it’s not the time for such jests concerning the blonde. As the good friend that she is, Chloe immediately understands as she moves to help tie your suit straps, a simple task that you are unexpectedly failing at due to the pressure of the meet ahead of you.

“You’re going to do great,” Chloe comforts, placing an assuring hand on your shoulder once she’s finished with your straps. “I’m sure of it.”

“What if I don’t break the record?”

“Who cares? You can try again next time. If that’s the worst that can happen, you don’t have anything to be nervous about,” she smiles in assurance. “Besides that record is as good as yours -” she makes a gesture to your tech suit that has the most magical of time bending abilities if wielded by the right swimmer. “You’ve worked so hard for this. Nothing can stop you now.”

“Thanks Clo.” you grin at her appreciatively, and though your nerves don’t settle in the slightest, you feel more comfortable living in cohabitation with them now. They’re so much easier to manage when you’re not alone.

It’s only minutes before the rest of your team has arrived and you have hours before your event is scheduled to take place, yet it only feels like seconds before you’re being seated in the waiting room amongst your competitors, tech suit finally fully on. Rousing music plays through your headphones though you are sure to skip any songs that seem even the slightest bit romantic. You try to slip into the right headspace, the line between confident and cocky that has always aided you in not panicking just before you step up to the blocks in the past. You try to find it, using any method at your fingertips, but it’s no use. You can’t seem to find it no matter how hard you try and suddenly it feels as if the weight of the world is crashing down on you when the door opens and your event is called. You stand with the other women and together you line up behind the blocks.

The sun shines much higher up in the sky than it had been when you dove in during warm ups, blaring down to reflect off the red of your cap that bears the Stanford logo in white along with your last name. You take your rightful place behind the starting block of the middle lane, and though you already wrote your heat and lane in black sharpie on your forearm just to be sure, you can’t help but worry that you’ve already missed your race.

It’s only when the head announcer calls your event on the loudspeaker that you stop dwelling on it, her voice echoing through the stands that seem so much taller now that you're in the center with so much pressure resting solely on you. You rake though the rafters to your left, hoping to be comforted by the sight of Chloe or one of your other teammates until you realize that they are more than likely preparing for their own events in the warm up pool.

It's then, just when the swirling hurricane of emotions is hurtling toward you, that you see him. He’s seated in the first row, blonde curls circling his head like a golden crown and a wide smile lighting up his face when he sees that you’ve finally spotted him, one that you can’t help returning as he mouths sweet wishes of luck to you.

Art came. He actually came!

The storm subsides and all of a sudden you’ve lost all your inhibitions. Instead of buzzing anxiety, you are filled with a new light and the confidence of a record breaker. It’s all so clear with Art in the stands and as his presence wafts away your storm of worries, you come to the realization that you can do it. You know you can.

The whistle of an official blares through the speaker and on cue you slide on your goggles and mount the block. You’re really starting to feel the compression of your suit as you bend into your diving position, waiting for the magic words. The signal that it’s time to race and leave everything you have in the pool as you go.

“Swimmers, take your marks…” 

You take one last breath before the sound blares and you dive off the block. It all comes naturally to you and with the help of your suit, you find yourself breaking out farther than ever before.

You only have a few strokes until you’re at the end of the pool when out of nowhere, the girl in the lane beside you starts to catch up to you until the two of you are neck and neck and it doesn’t escape your attention when she flips a split second before you’re able to.

You know it’s not about winning, you told Art that, but it’s as if a fire has been lit behind you and you’re suddenly determined to go for the gold. You push yourself harder than you ever have before and though you're not sure where the energy has come from, you know it’s exactly what you need. You’ve failed if you’re able to get out of the pool without stumbling.

Before long you catch up to the swimmer beside you, taking your first and only breath as you summon the last of your power, pushing through the water like a jet-ski. At once you’re behind the flags and unlike before, there’s no one beating you to the touch pad resting on the side of the ending wall as you slam your hand down and come up for air.

The crowd erupts with applause once you finish and at first you’re under the impression that it’s because of your win until your eyes glaze over at the scoreboard and nearly burst from your skull at the sight of the result.

You had accomplished your goal. There it was, a time faster than the Stanford record glowing right beside your name. But you didn’t just pass it by a few flimsy hundredths. Your new record was more than a second faster.

You can hardly believe it and you know if the proof weren’t right in front of you, there’d only be disbelief instead of this crashing wave of accomplishment and pride. Though you’re in severe oxygen debt from the race, you find yourself screaming in excitement at your gigantic accomplishment.

“We have a new record!” an official announces through the loudspeaker once the other girls have returned to the starting wall, followed by your name and new time. You search for Art again once you’re out of the water, all but failing to suppress your grin as you find him clapping in the stands and smiling down at you as if you were the most precious stone in the world.

Your teammates are filled with the same immense pride when you join them in the locker room once the meet is over. You’ve since changed from your tech suit, switching out the tight fabric for your cozy hoodie, tie-back bikini top, and a towel tied around your waist. The suit in question now hangs in your locker with the rest of your clothes that you had been in the middle of putting on before the congradulations began.

“I fucking told you!” Chloe shouts, clapping you on the back like you had just won the lottery. You imagine such a feat couldn’t match the pride you feel now.

You almost say that you can’t believe it, but the words stall on your lips. You actually can believe it, this is something you’ve been working tirelessly for. And now, after a long hard race, the record title is finally yours.

“Did I see a certain blonde in the audience?” Chloe smirks, nudging you as you wave goodbye to one of your other parting teammates.

“Maybe,” you drawl, trying your best to hide your growing grin, but the thought of the man makes you feel like flying through the air as year worth of buried emotions bubble up to the surface. You haven’t felt anything like this for a very long time.

“You know what that means…” Chloe whispers to you after you pull away from a hug with one of the other girls who like everyone else, is on her way out. The night’s party is being hosted at a house that’s a longer commute than usual in honor of the women’s tenth annual win and unlike your teammates, you aren’t in any hurry to get there knowing the a portion of the celebration will surround you.

“Drinks on you?” you guess, pretending you are clueless as to what she’s getting at. You hope it’s enough to deter her from whatever inevitably grotesque she’s about to say, but you know it’s to no avail as she laughs and shakes her head.

“Nice try,” she smiles, nudging you with her elbow. “I meant that he’s definetly going to fuck the shit out of you next time you see him.”

You cringe bashfully at her words, hitting her on the shoulder as she backs away from your shrunken form.

“Chloe!” you chide, though you both know no real anger lies within your tone. She’s been like this since the day you’d first met her: always the same old loving, indecorous Chloe.

“Just saying.” she shrugs before turning to say her goodbyes to the last lingering one of your other teammates.

You turn to open your locker, finally ready to change out of your damp towel until you’re startled by the clacking footsteps of unfamiliar tennis shoes heading in your direction. You assume it’s another random spectator who had bypassed the many signs clearly stating that the locker room is for athlete occupance only, but at once you find you’re very wrong when you turn to see who it is.

Art stands before you and though it was his decision to invade the women’s locker room, he looks as surprised as you.

“Hey,” he says, almost breathlessly. You’re thankful when you notice that Chloe is fully dressed to your left, just pulling on her knit cardigan.

She smirks smuggly at the sight of him, swinging her bag over her shoulders before sending you a wink and a swiftly muttered, “Told ya.” Without another word she exits, leaving you and Art utterly and completely alone.

“You realize this is the women’s restroom, right?” you jab as you hear Chloe shut the door behind her, though it’s all in good fun. As far as you know, no one is coming anywhere near the locker room for the next several hours.

“I was waiting outside for you,” he states, gradually lifting his hands from their tense place in the front of his jean pockets. “I thought everyone else had already come out, but I guess I was wrong.”

“That’s just Chloe,” you laugh, gesturing in the direction of the exit path your best friend had just taken. “Don’t worry, she won’t tattle.”

He chuckles, amused by your jest before he takes a slow step closer to you. Like a sparkler to your stomach, you become acutely aware of the tension between the two of you, growing like the blush colored blossoms of a cherry tree in spring. “I’ve thought about what you said.”

This makes you smile.

“And?”

“You were right.”

You’re heart flutters, so light that if it weren’t encaged within your chest you’re sure it would’ve floated away. He pauses to take another tense step in your direction, now only a foot away.

“Do you know how Tashi and I met?”

“I don’t, actually,” you say, words laced with a twinge of sarcasm.

“Right,” he laughs, realizing the folly behind his question. It was more rhetorical than anything, but he begins the story like a spider spindiling its web. “Well it was only about a year ago. We met at the US open. Patrick and I both went after her and you know what she told us?”

You wait for the answer.

“She said she’d give her number to whoever won our match. That was the first time I ever lost and it was to my best friend.”

“That’s who was at your match, wasn’t it?” you ask.

Art nods solumnly, though the pain that had been etched on his face from your last meeting has vanished, as if the thorn in his side has been replced by a budding rose.

“I didn’t know Art, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he urges. “It’s all okay now. I’ve realized that none of it matters anymore and it’s all because of you. If I’m being honest, I thought maybe if I won my match, then Tashi would leave him. But it’s not what I want anymore. I don’t want to be the winner she’s running to. I don’t want to have to earn her love.”

“What do you want?”

There’s a pause, a distinct moment where the glint in his blue eyes from the bright lights above conveys a clever message to you than any words could. Then he speaks.

“I think you know what I want.”

It’s all the confirmation you need to know that he’s finally playing the same game as you. He’s unbearably close now as his head reaches up to gently rake through your stringy wet hair. You welcome his touch, breath catching in your throat at the feeling of his fingers as his lips hover just above yours. If you’re being completely honest, you haven’t stopped fantasizing about it since the night of the party. Since the moment he had kissed you.

“You were right,” he whispers as his hot breath tickles the tips of your top lips with every placid word. “I don’t care about winning anymore. The only point I want to score is you.”

“That’s a really bad joke.” you remark, pointing out the obvious from his corny declaration. But Art doesn’t share your smirk, his face settling in an expression that’s much more sensual.

“I’m not kidding.”

You feel the immediate shift in energy as your smirk fades to parted lips and Art’s longing gaze moves downward from your eyes. What little space left between you is squashed as you allow him to pull you even closer, noses prodigy one another as Art’s fingers drift from the tips of your hair to cup the back of your head. It’s almost salivating the way he looks at you and you’re suddenly eager to remember what he tastes like.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks through a whisper, so quietly that if you hadn’t been right in front of him, you surely wouldn’t have heard it. It’s milliseconds before you’re nodding exuberantly with more urgency than a speeding ambulance (something you might need if your heart decided to beat any faster).

“Pleas-” you start, but Art’s on you before you can even get the word out, covering your lips with his until all you can taste, smell, and feel is him. Everything is him.

He’s gentle with you at first, testing the waters as his lips pass smoothly over yours. You lift up your hands to invite him in, squeezing the toned flesh of his arms before you drag them slowly up to the nape of his neck. You toy with some of the curls that rest there, twirling them between your fingers while sinking into the sounds he makes in return. He lets out a soft moan into your mouth, and at once his tongue melds with yours. You match the new intensity, swallowing each low groan.

Unlike your last encounter, it’s Art who pulls away this time, forcing you to scowl at him in confusion, eyes squinting and lips puffy. He twists his head to the left, glazing at the wide space behind him as he slowly moves the both of you backwards to the nearest flat-board bench until one of its edges grazes the top of his shin.

“What are you doing?” you ask through a whisper, leaning forward so that your lips titillate the tip of his ear which sends inadvertent shivers through his whole body. Art turns back to you, smirking as he leans in for another sloppy kiss, earning a salacious sound from you before his lips shift from yours and trailing from the corner of your mouth to the line of your open jaw where his teeth scrape against your skin. You can feel him grinning as he makes you emit the softest of moans.

“I want to make up for the other night. I said some things - I’m not proud of.”

You give a giddy chuckle as you cup his cheek, amused by the fact that he thinks his past behavior was inexcusable until Art’s head dips to suck on the tender skin of your neck and you can’t help but whine. You’re glad you have the lung capacity of a swimmer otherwise you might’ve fainted from the near constant lack of oxygen.

“Art, honestly-” a sudden gasp is ripped from you as you feel him nipping at your sweet spot, crumbling like a tin can under pressure. “-it’s fine.” you barely manage to finish your sentence.

He places a few more steady kisses to the column of your neck, working his way down to your clavicle. You tip your head back, an unintentional effect from the sensation of his lips as he lays the last just near the edge of your collarbone before raising his head to look at you and it’s almost as if he can see right through you.

“Does that mean you don’t want what I’m offering?” he questions, glancing down at the steady movement of your chest as it rises and falls beneath your hoodie. You don’t recall when in the last few minutes he managed to move his hands down to your waist, but you can feel them now as clear as ever. He grips the sides of your hoodie, nimble fingers sliding under the thick gray fabric until they find the skin beneath and his touch feels like fire, sparking flames along your hips with every small caress. It’s so hot that you aren’t sure how Tashi could pick anyone over him. You aren’t sure how anyone could deny him for that matter.

“No…” you admit and at once his hands start to travel higher and higher until they reach the bottom band of your bikini, inflaming the whole of your torso as he meets the straps still tied neatly together in the middle of your spine forming a perfect bow. His fingers follow the provided path, meeting at the center of your back as he starts to twirl one of the tails of the knot around his pointer finger.

“May I?” he asks, his tone so deceivingly politely as he gently tugs on the string. He waits patiently for your consent as his eyes pan up from your chest to your expression. You can’t get the words out, already too overwhelmed from the sizzling sensation of his touch, but you make sure to nod with the utmost enthusiasm. Who were you to tell Art Donaldson no when he was so eager to touch you? And you, in turn, were so eager to feel him.

He smiled at your agreeance and instantly unfastened the tie of your suit, pulling on the strand until the entire bow came undone. He lips pressed against yours once more before he settled down on the bench and raised the hem of your hoodie just enough to expose your stomach, peppering kisses to every inch of you.

You released your hold on him to assist in pulling the hoodie over your head, tossing it behind you where it lands in a crumple pile near the metal door of your locker. Without any tension left to hold it up, the triangle cutlets of your bikini slump to reveal two perfect pebbled nipples, leaving the towel looped around your waist as your only source of coverage.

Usually you’d feel insecure being so bare for a man that’s practically a stranger, but from the dazed look Art gives you as he takes in the sight of your figure, you find that you don’t mind it in the slightest.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Art mutters almost involuntarily, sending shock waves down straight to your core. The words came bursting out before he could find the strength to hold them back, his brain too busy processing your beauty to have any control over any sort of filter. You return your hands to his head of blonde curls just as he presses one last kiss to the center of your abdomen, exactly below your rib cage.

The movement is so sudden that you can't count the seconds that pass before he grabs at your breasts, each hand perfectly cupping the mounted flesh. His mouth is slower, trailing kisses up the valley of your chest.

His thumb works the sensitive skin encircling your nipple, running over the hardened peak in an unperceivable pattern that forces another well earned moan from your lips. It’s encouragement for his other hand that immediately drifts upwards to mirror the actions of the other. Every pinch and slight movement is like gasoline to your fire, all pouring in a downward stream to the part of you that grows more needy with every passing second. You could cry from the sensation of it all, the intensity only growing when you feel him pass his tongue over your left nipple. You try to suppress any sounds this time, teeth biting down on your lip as you curve your head back, but it forces its way out despite your efforts. You grip the hair fixed to his crown and pressure him forwards so that he remains in place.

“Shit, that feels - really good.” you praise, your phrase strung together like an old beaded bracelet as changes in pace break apart each word. When Art does part from your breasts, it’s to press wet kisses down the line of your abdomen as flickering thumbs replace his mouth. He pauses as he reaches the softest portion of your stomach, stopping just above the knot that is covering your very bare lower half, and though you don’t recall informing him about your lack of undergarments, you are sure that he already knows.

“I need to taste you,” he whispers against your skin.

He doesn’t ask you for permission anymore, but instead glances up at you from his spot on the bench and it’s everything you need to understand what he wants from you. And of course you want it. You’re sure if he wastes a second longer to tend to your throbbing center, you might just pass out in his sturdy arms.

“Please, Art, I need you,” you’re able to get out, though it’s breathy and delicate from the way that he’s rendered you.

He’s quick to oblige as he takes the top of your towel cover in between his perfect white teeth and yanks the fabric hard enough for it to fall to your feet. He’s on you in an instant, one of his hands moving to support your shaky frame as he slides a knee between yours to spread you open.

He coaxes every cry out of you with his tongue, wet and skilled as he traces it along each fold, his nose bobbing against your swollen clit not dissimilar from his left hand that still lies atop your breast. You press him closer to you as he swirls his tongue around you, over and over and never in the same way more than twice in a row. It’s overstimulation at its best, overwhelming you until you're trembling in his grasp and before you know it, you’re riding the edge of the wave to pure pleasure.

“Fuck, Art! I’m- I’m-“ you can’t even finish your sentence, he feels so good. He hums against you in amusement, the vibrations of his voice meeting your core in a melting sensation that you find yourself grinding into uncontrollably.

“On my tongue,” he promotes against you before licking a steady stripe along your center. It’s then that you know you’re done for. Your cry is almost inhuman as you leap off the edge, diving into the heart of the wave as Art finally relinquishes his hold on your breast and uses the newly unoccupied hand to pierce into your arousal, calloused fingers curling into you as he helps you down from your high. Even after you cum you know you still have more in you. And you can tell from the growing bulge in his pants that Art isn’t done with you either.

He stands to kiss you with dampened lips as the taste of your own arousal invades your senses, but you withdraw from the embrace after only a few seconds to ask him your burning question, desire already regrowing like a flooding river of need.

“Art, I need you,” you start, pulling at the canvas material of his button up. “Please, please fuck me.”

“Oh fuck,” he mumbles before pressing his mouth towards yours and back you up to the wall of lockers that are neatly arranged behind you.

Granted by his permission, you unfasten each button of his shirt until it’s enough to pull it off him which he happily helps you accomplish. You can’t tell who’s more desperate for you to feel the dense muscle of his chest as he places your palms face down on his pecs, granting you the assurance you needed to explore his body.

You take your time, squeezing and prodding just as he had done to you until one of your hands is low enough on his stomach to palm him through his light wash jeans. The soft whimper he returns is nearly enough to send you over again. He pulls back as he lets you undo his belt, eyelids fluttering after you’ve unbuttoned and unzipped the only thing keeping you from him. You’re quick to pull him out, not at all shocked by how hard he is and it’s a major ego boost knowing it’s all because of you.

“See what you do to me?” he whispers against your lips as if you needed more proof of his longing for you. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Please,” you beg. “I need to feel you.”

Art is quick to oblige as his calloused fingers grip the soft skin of your hips, so rough that you can feel every callus from his racket as he pushes you against the lockers, thrusting up into you. While he’s dying to continue, he hesitates so that you can acclimate to his size. It takes no longer than a second as you release a guttural groan and wrap a leg around his waist, aiding him in hitting even deeper within you.

“Fuck!” you cry, throwing your head back against the cold metal as Art nips at your neckline again. You’re drowning beneath the blissful rocky wave and from the sounds that he’s making, almost re-enacting one of his matches just for you, you can tell that Art is too.

It happens so quickly that your mind struggles to understand it, spinning wildly as the wave pulls you under once more along with Art who finishes in a similar amount of time. You lean into his chest, breathing heavily as you take in the heavenly scent of his undoubtedly expensive cologne and slightly wincing as he pulls out of you slowly. He ducks to pick up your fallen towel as he starts to clean you up.

The realization that it’s over doesn't quite hit you until Art helps you get dressed, buckling his belt back up only once you’re decent and in return you hand him a spare shirt so he doesn’t have to redo every button on the one you’d nearly torn off him.

“Thanks,” he smiles gratefully, pulling on your shirt which fits tighter around him than it would around you, though it’s nothing to complain about as every miniscule ripple of muscle is on display.

You’re both thinking the exact same thing as you exit the locker room, hand in hand with the same guilty expression on your face as you pass an incoming janitor who is too busy scowling to ask Art what he was doing in the women’s locker room. It’s obvious from the encounter that it won’t be your last and as Art drives you to the planned frat party, you’re even sure that it’s not the last of the night.

Time proves you right as you’re seated next to Art a few weeks later, curled into his side as you share a large plate of the appetizer combo at a local Applebees. It was the only thing open after a long day of matches and meets and steamy rendezvous in between. The two of you were going on steadier than the trunks of ancient trees as you continue to support each other, you attending all of Art’s matches ( even if it meant skipping a practice or two) and Art cheering for you at all of your meets. You’re not sure if it’s the consistent attendance, but the both of you were only getting better at your respective hobbies by the day, particularly Art who hadn’t lost a match since meeting you.

You’re both jokingly arguing over who gets the last quesadilla when a familiar woman stops near your table, joined by a man you’d never seen before, though you recognize him from several of Art's detailed stories. He straightens beside you, gathering himself to greet the new company.

“Hey guys, long time no see!”

“Art,” Patrick nods to his friend before smiling to you and offering his hand, one that you take without a second thought. “I’m Patrick.”

“I know,” you admit. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You must be Tashi.” you turn to the girl and you can’t help, but analyze the peculiarities of her expression. It’s clear she is content with her own man of choice, but something about the way she looks at you tells you that she’s still involved in the tennis philosophy you managed to screw out of Art. She looks at you like you’re a player she’s lost to. And from what Art’s told you, you're certain it’s the first time Tashi has lost.

“It’s nice to meet you.” she fakes a smile before pulling Patrick to the door, careful not to stay long enough for the conversation to lead anywhere important. It’s awkward and strange, but you know it’s for the best. You’re not particularly interested in anything she has to say anyways.

“Did you see that?” you ask, pointing in the direction of the doorway that the couple had used for an easy escape.

“What?” Art wonders, looking towards you in anticipation.

“I think she’s looking for a new winner.”

Art leans in to peck the apple of your cheek, assurance that no matter the circumstance, he’ll never be available to the likes of Tashi Duncan again.

“Must be because I’ve won,” he reasons, “-because I have you and there’s nothing she can do to separate us.”

You smile at his sweet words, praying that he never ceases to use his talent for affectionate poetry as you lean in to kiss him. Whether he wins or loses or even never plays again, you couldn’t care less about the outcome of his career. As long as Art’s happy, you’re prepared to take on any challenge you’re put up to, whether on the court or in the pool.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson fanfic #stanford art!!! #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson fic #tashi duncan #patrick zweig #challengers 2024 #challengers movie #challengers #challengers fanfic #swimmer life #swimming #smut #mike faist

[genericpuff]

wait wait wait, regarding that Minthe post, you're telling me that Rachel literally wrote the character as having BPD.....and portrayed her as an abusive mean piece of shit??? WOW. fucking WOW. sorry for being so angry, but even if she "retconned" that - it's still so god damn disrespective. as someone who has BPD it hurts so much to see my mental illness villanised :(

ugh I'm so sorry pal. and I don't blame you for being angry about it, like I don't even have BPD and I'M fucking pissed LOL like I can understand why Rachel might have wanted to backtrack from that knowing fully well that Minthe's story wasn't gonna have a happy ending, but writing her with BPD in the first place and then BACKTRACKING from it as soon as she likely got heat for it (or just realized it wasn't a good look) isn't much better because it means now all she's done is written the stigmatized negative effects of BPD into her character without showing the more positive outlooks of healing and managing. Maybe that was doomed to happen considering Minthe is someone who doesn't get a happy ending in the myths, but it begs the question of why she'd write her with BPD to begin with because in hindsight it really does seem like she just wanted to use it as a way to make her "evil".

But like, when you read the actual episode, you can SEE the potential there for character growth, you can SEE that she's aware of her actions - but doesn't understand why she's "like that" which is a VERY common feeling among people with undiagnosed mental illnesses - but it was never meant to be.

Like jfc not only is it HEAVILY IMPLIED, but again, the episode is literally called "Splitting". And we see exactly that with Minthe, who can't seem to rationalize with herself that she messed up.

But... that leads me to another point that I failed to mention in that first ask response: she DIDN'T mess up. Like, yes, she messed up by escalating it to the point of slapping Hades, but it wasn't her fault that she didn't make it to her date with Hades. Whose fault was it?

Continuously throughout the first season we see Thetis being an awful influence who manipulates and gaslights Minthe. They're "friends", but it's clear Thetis does not have Minthe's best interests in mind. In this very scene we see Thetis manipulate Minthe and even attempt to get her so drunk that she won't be able to show up to her date. And then of course when that plan works and Minthe freaks out, Thetis spins it around on Minthe in a very passive-aggressive way.

But of course, the narrative has to find a way to turn this whole thing on Minthe being the bad guy. Hence we get the slap which shifts the focus entirely away from what led up to it back onto Hades who has, in a lot of ways, put her in a situation that she can't control. And of course, being in those kinds of situations does not help with mental health.

Like, sorry, I'm really going off here now, but... the slap happens in Episode 76.

When is it finally addressed again? Episode 103.

It took Rachel nearly THIRTY EPISODES to finally bring it back to Minthe, and in that time the reader has spent SEVERAL EPISODES reading about how sad and lonely Hades is, and about how cute and lovey he is with Persephone. The reader has not had ANY time to reflect on Minthe's circumstances, because it completely pivots away from her to focus on H x P as a sort of distraction from the fact that Minthe is a victim in her own right.

And when it DOES return to Minthe in 103, we get this harrowing reminder that her entire life is dependent on Hades-

And once again, here comes Thetis to the "rescue", reinforcing the negative feedback loop that Minthe is trapped in where she's put in unhealthy situations. She drags her to a bar and the whole time Minthe is not having fun because she's understandably still reeling from what happened.

Now we DO get some character development here, where Minthe realizes exactly what I've just finished explaining, that Thetis isn't her friend, that she'd rather not have Thetis as a friend than continue being talked down to and manipulated.

But then, as we know, because Rachel still needs Minthe to be the "bad guy", the breakup between Hades and Minthe winds up being all about Persephone from a POV that attempts to villainize Minthe for being "jealous" (rather than focusing on how shitty Hades actually is for having an emotional affair with Persephone to begin with) and then Minthe goes right back to hanging out with Thetis anyways for the sake of having the "evil other girl" who wants to "ruin" H x P's relationship.

It's not until Season 3 that we finally see Minthe tell Thetis to fuck off for good, but by then it's too little too late, and Minthe has lost an entire character arc. Rachel tries to go "see! Minthe's life is so much better now that she's taking care of children!" but that's an entirely different solution to a problem Minthe never had. She never got treatment for her BPD. She just got away from H x P which, while is a good thing, isn't actually analyzed as such. It's treated more as a "good thing" for H x P and the readers, because now they don't have to be subjected to Minthe's evil scheming anymore, something something "the evil is defeated". And don't even get me started on this comic's problem with constantly resolving female characters' story arcs through motherhood.

It bums me out so fucking much. Minthe deserved so much better. She's one of the many characters in LO who make it so painfully ironic when they're done dirty, because despite Rachel's attempts to write a "feminist retelling" that focuses on "moving on from trauma", she's inadvertently done more damage to feminism and the stigmas around mental health and trauma through her assassination of grounded and realistic and relatable characters like Minthe and Demeter who are shown ZERO empathy or understanding for their actions (unless it can be done so by making Persephone and Hades into the heroes). It happens so often throughout the comic it almost feels like how the comic markets itself as a "progressive feminist retelling" is some sick joke that I'm just not getting.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

[pumpkinbxtch]

Can you plzz do a percy smut where he only rubs the readers clit bc the reader is too scared to finger herself, but then she gets the courage to finger herself and charles shows her how to do it??

confidence

— percy jackson x fem!reader

warnings; recommended for +18, smut and nsfw things happening.

tags; fingering, language, the reader is inexperienced, angst if you squint, A little dom!percy but he's really sweet a/n; so yeah, it had to being percy the first smut request ever, thanks it's the first time so please forgive me if i failed, lol. I will improve, I swear

"You're doing so well..." he murmured a few inches from your ear, sending a shiver down your spine that made you press even closer to his chest.

The room was filled only with the dim light of the setting sun and the sweet sounds Percy coaxed from you as his fingers massaged your clit under your already soaked panties. The constant movement of his fingertips on that sweet spot had you lifting your hips, seeking more, but he kept you in check, placing his free hand on your tummy and planting wet kisses on your neck.

"Such an impatient girl," your boyfriend whispered playfully, and you felt his smile on your cheek as he gathered your juices. That brief moment near your entrance made your pussy clench painfully around nothing, increasing your desperation. You squirmed on his lap, eliciting a growl from him due to the hard bulge pressing against your lower back. Yet, what you desired didn't happen.

"Uh, Percy... please."

The dark-haired man clicked his tongue repeatedly in disapproval and deliberately slowed his movements. Your whines became audible as you lifted your hips again, trying to find relief on your own. Instead, your boyfriend pressed you back against him, making you whimper softly.

"I know, I know," he said apologetically while nibbling on your ear, his own hips grinding against you, trying to alleviate some of the growing pain. Percy loved hearing you, especially when you seemed so needy. "But this is the only way, sweetheart..."

And you knew it. You knew what game you were playing, but your sensation-clouded mind was working against—or maybe for—you. It was something you wanted, and he was helping you with it, as you'd never been able to touch yourself more than superficially.

Percy's fingers brushed toward your entrance, and he chastely dipped his fingertips in. A moan began to form in your throat, and your heartbeat quickened.

"Please," you mewled pathetically, and he kissed your cheek warmly. Taking your hand, which had been clutching the sheets, he placed it on your pussy.

"If you want it so badly, you'll have to do it yourself, princess."

Those were the words you had hoped deep down would never be said, but you were so worked up you didn't know if you could resist trying. In a second, with his hand still guiding you, your fingers replaced Percy's, which had moved to your top to play with your breasts.

"Need some help, sweetheart?" he asked while tightening his grip on your hips. You nodded slightly, your heart about to burst.

"Words."

"Yes," you breathed.

Not long after his hips encouraged you to do so, your fingers finally entered, and stars filled your vision. It was the first time you could feel yourself, becoming a mess of moans and babbles as your boyfriend continued to touch you elsewhere, making the tension in your stomach grow, threatening to explode.

"Oh, now you know, huh?" Percy whispered in your ear, breathless, his eyes fixed on the spectacle you provided. "You know why I go crazy every time I'm inside you, because you're so damn tight."

At his words, it was inevitable that your walls clenched again, this time around your fingers, and you let out a loud moan that almost made your boyfriend come just from watching you. You whimpered and pumped your fingers, knowing you wouldn't last long with the new sensation. When you finally closed your eyes tightly, your body tensing completely, Percy knew you had succeeded.

He helped you handle the overwhelming emotion, hugging you tightly and whispering sweet things in your ear.

"That's right, Angel," he said before giving you another kiss on the cheek, your weight now almost entirely on his chest. "You just had to have a little confidence."

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧ #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackson smut #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x you #pjo #hoo x you #hoo x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

[suhmingo]

I, uh, don’t know how to actually preface this. It’s really just a mini rant/pseudo-analysis of chapter 167. Which was pretty crazy. But, I loved this chapter, and yes I’m typing this with two hands.

But first let me try and do some housekeeping.

It’s perfectly fine to have an emotional, even visceral reaction to 167. That’s the point

If you feel grossed out, betrayed, unnerved, dumbstruck, or any form of bamboozled by today’s chapter then good! That means the emotional weight of the scene is working, and that you are a proper, feeling human. The

The whole point of fiction is to explore themes that would be difficult, even dangerous to experience from a place of safety. To me that’s, like the entire reason I ever wanted to become a writer, one of the most unsung broke boy jobs in the history of the world. My desire for Denji to get better in a world that is dead set on making him fail is the entire reason I have an emotional investment in the first place. Stories are inherently about conflict and the struggle with resolving conflict, that should make you uncomfortable.

Say what you want about Chainsaw Man. I can take it, I’m a big boy. But one thing that it has always had since Chapter one is a well-defined through line about the complexity of our innate desire to find some type of love fighting against the pain-wrought pathway that it leads us down. In a good story, every chapter should have some way of showing the highs and lows of that theme, and I’m pretty confident when I say that 167 perfectly shows us that.

It’s bad. Don’t let people who brag about their trauma tolerance tell you otherwise. You are well within your right to feel. But I think it would behoove people to 1. Realize that this is fiction, and its effects, though evocatory, are ultimately abstract, and 2. Realize that exploring dark themes allows people, especially a 16-25 (Or whatever the target audience for CSM is) to grapple with and think on human concepts as all encompassing as love.

From a writing standpoint, one chapter has escalated the tension of the entire story more than anything that has happened in Part 2 so far. It’s admittedly a bit early to call it peak. But looking at it as a simple story beat, that’s a fantastic chapter as far as the medium goes.

Listen, the whole point of stories since, like, Mesopotamian times was the tension between wanting a character to achieve happiness vs the hardships and trauma that life happens in life. They’re supposed to put you in a sensitive state emulative of a tense environment. I’d argue that the prevalence of escapist fiction and fandom has changed how we emotionally digest fiction. But that’s a whole nother essay.

The events of 167 aren’t some horny non-sequitur. Everything that happened is entirely a logical, if graven, extension of how we know characters.

Denji is at the lowest point we have ever seen him at. He was literally dismembered and put back together less than 10 chapters ago. The last chapter literally had him groveling on his knees at a cauldron’s brew of his own weakness, immaturity, stupidity, and horniness. I think we can all understand why he would not be in a good mental state to just lose himself in the moment. You can’t even blame Denji in this situation. He was in an entirely vulnerable state that was exploited entirely by

Yoru. Who is the literal embodiment of war. If you think that someone who represents the human fear of war is going to play fair. Turn on the news for five minutes. Yoru is a character we are not supposed to like. She’s fun, because she’s a work of fiction, but she’s arguably less trustworthy than Fami. She’s a violent, exploitative being who possesses a dead teenager. There is no “too far” for her if it’s the fastest way on the road to conquest. Reminder that before she caught feelings, her plan was literally just to castrate Denji because she thought that would further her goals. The fact that it turned into kissing was actually sparing a worse fate. IMO that savior was all in the actions of Asa.

Asa. I genuinely believe that, subconsciously, Asa wanted to kiss Chainsaw Man. Not like how it happened. Never like how it happened, but her desire for Denji/Chainsaw Man's affection has always been evident. She gets irreparably upset when she’s stood up, she makes cringe poetry for Chainsaw Man, and her entire goal as of now is in some misguided desire to make him happy. I also don’t think Asa is actually demisexual, or averse to sex. She is afraid of intimacy, which stops her from ever acting on her urges. Notice that both times Yoru has kissed Denji, it was after the idea of sex and intimacy was explicitly brought to the conversation. To me that screams that Yoru is spurred on by her host’s innate desires. Hell, it’s been shown that in the same way that Yoru has made Asa more proactive of a human being, Asa has made her feel emotions. I don’t think it's a coincidence that Yoru is blushing while kissing Denji. None of that was part of her plan. That’s Asa’s emotional influence getting the better of her in what I predict to be a fantastic role reversal of their initial contract.

This is thematically in line with how Chainsaw Man presents love and sets up deeper themes.



Remember way back in Part One when Denji was just an initial horndog and everybody kinda hated him? I hated Denji back then! When I first heard of Chainsaw Man I genuinely thought it was going to be a mommy-kink fuelled power fantasy. But I was wrong. Wonderfully wrong. Fujimoto used the allure of that idea in Makima to present a story about how dangerous and manipulative the very idea of grooming is, and how damaging that can be to a person. The same way Denji’s desire to get the approval of Makima was poisonous to him is mirrored in his desire for vapid, instantly gratifying sex is being portrayed here. I genuinely think this chapter is going to age like fine wine, and I am absolutely willing to take egg on my face if I’m wrong.

#chainsaw man #csm 167

[groverapologist]

how i think things would've been different if the "to storm or fire" line was explored more:

jason and leo are immediately aware of what that line means. no one else could be fire but leo. there's a bit more confusion with the storm line as zeus and poseidon can both control storms, but jason can tell it's him. zeus is the obvious answer. jason and leo are the more obvious pair.

jason and leo are typically very vocal with each other whenever anything has hurt or distressed them. they immediately talked after the medea situation, they discussed leo's fear of his own fire, leo was there for jason when he discovered the truth about his mom. however, both of them had already decided they would die for the other, making discussing it much more difficult to talk about it.

they both make an oath to do whatever it takes to protect each other and piper ("an oath to keep with a final breath").

as leo plans, he refuses to tell anyone what he's going to do until he absolutely has to tell Hazel. jason tells piper and gives her the option to opt out of the relationship, but she says no.

piper's feelings when she finds out are obviously very conflicted. she knows she's losing either her best friend or her boyfriend. she tries to put up a brave face, especially after jason confides in her about his plans to sacrifice himself first, but it's clearly taking a toll on her. she cannot find comfort in either ending.

the two continue to refuse to talk about it, and there's always a silent acknowledgment of what they're going to do. there's also the knowledge that neither would let the other die for them.

when they discover the physician's cure, all three of them get excited at the prospect. however, jason is more apprehensive, and he quickly begins to doubt he could cheat the prophecy. they still go forth with getting it created.

leo and hazel continue with their plan, but leo tells festus that if both he and jason are dead, to inject jason with it instead. he also tells festus to wait until the very final moment to resurrect leo to make sure everything else has gone right and no one else needs the vial instead.

the day before the final battle, jason and leo have a talk, and they're both aware this would probably be the last one they have. they discuss the physician's cure, and jason talks to him about his doubts. he says he believes he'll be rekilled anyways, that hades does not take kindly to resurrection and that the prophecy was probably final. leo, now nervous, tells him it doesn't hurt to try. jason shrugs.

they talk for hours, both afraid and knowing the other was the only one who understands the fear despite their refusal to discuss the topic with one another. by the end of their talk, they tell each other they're gonna miss each other. this is the most they ever talk about it.

the day after, jason's plans immediately go wrong. nothing works as it is meant to, but leo, whose plans were much more broad and "near the end of everything" based, was struggling way less. the two don't see each other for most of the battle.

jason is anxious that he can't see leo.

jason is forced to abort the plan all together and search for when leo is trying to sacrifice himself and stop him. he and piper search for leo, but leo finds them first when he and festus have to save the two when they were falling.

when the sacrifice happens, jason quickly realises what's going on, and dread immediately fills him. he failed in saving leo.

the battle ends, jason mourns. he thinks that's the end of it.

festus had taken leo's body far away as it waits for the last final moment to inject leo with the cure, just as leo had explained.

it takes a while to work. leo only wakes up a few days later, and his bones feel brittle, but he's happy because it worked. jason's words still live in his head, but it worked.

leo begins his flight back to camp halfblood, but he's stopped by apollo who asks for his help. leo agrees, and he sends messages to jason, piper, and hazel explaining what happened.

it takes a while longer before he finishes his work with apollo, and by that time he gets to iris message jason and piper separately. this, unbeknownst to him, is because they had broken up in the aftermath of everything. he also calls hazel and nico, who confirms hades is not expecting leo back.

festus breaks down by the end of his work with apollo, and while apollo leaves, leo works in fixing festus before continuing his path back to camp.

in that time, apollo continues his quest. he asks piper and jason for help.

jason is told either he or piper would die in the process of helping apollo. jason immediately realises it has to be him and that leo wasn't as successful in cheating the prophecy as he thought he was. he's not angry. he just accepts it.

jason calls leo one last time and goes ahead with the prophecy. when jason is killed, he's only glad he kept the oath to protect leo and piper.

#take this as platonic or romantic idec #valgrace #heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo #leo valdez #jason grace #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians

[sturniolo04]

Surprise M.S.

Bf!Matt x Gf!Reader

Summary: In which Matt surprises you (his gf)

A/N: Please leave requests in my inbox; running out of writing ideas

A long-distance relationship is something you and Matt didn't have in mind but, of course, when Matt and his brother's YouTube career took off all too fast, it threw almost a 3,000-mile wedge in your guys' relationship.

See you and the Triplets were what you called childhood best friends. You guys were basically raised together. The constant sleepovers and family vacations you guys took with each other's families. To sum it up, Marylou and Jimmy were legitimately your second mom and dad.

So ultimately you were bound to fall for one of your childhood best friends. Everyone out of your Boston friends thought that hands down Chris was going to be the one for you. The universe, though, had other plans, because as you and the triplets got older together and matured together to a degree, you took more of a liking to Matt just because of his calm demeanor and just knowing that he ultimately became your safe space. So when Junior Year of high school arrived you both came to your senses and ended up confessing to each other and being together ever since.

This brings you to the present day, you sitting at home not having the best day. Everything didn't go right for you since early that morning, from having so much college work piling up to do to being late for work to the ultimate dealbreaker, the worst thing about all of this is all you want is a simple hug from your boyfriend who ironically is hours away from you.

"is something bothering you sweetie," your mom asks from across the island counter you had recently installed in your new house when you moved out. "huh, oh it's nothing it's stupid" you reply back setting your phone down on the marble countertop. It wasn't stupid and it definitely wasn't nothing, on top of all the shitty things happening today Matt hadn't texted you once which was not normal for him so you just assumed he was in a meeting or something but when it became hours passing by you became anxious and nervous that he forgot about you and let LA get to his head. "Okay then, do you want to go to the store to restock your groceries so you don't starve" your mom chuckles to herself as she opens your refrigerator. "Sure, I have to go to Sephora anyway" you sigh grabbing your phone and then grabbing your shoes.

Little did you know this was all normal. Marylou, Matt, and your mom had planned this a month in advance, they were flying Matt out to Boston as we speak just to spend the month with you and it just so happens that it was on the exact day you really needed him most but, once again your completely unaware of this because after all, it was an unknown surprise.

-time skip-

"I just need some more foundation then we can go back to my house if you want Mom" you stated simply trying not to let on that you were so upset about not hearing from Matt. "okay take your time" your mom replied back as you turned to look through the various foundations to find yours. "I think your dad and I might go to visit your grandmother in Iowa soon" your mom states randomly to keep you somewhat distracted as she begins recording subtly the aisle next to the end of where you were currently standing. "really that sounds fun, how is she doing anyway?" you trail off in your response to your mom, still fixated on finding the foundation you were needing, all while your boyfriend, now sneaking his way to the exact spot you and your mom were located. "found it, we can go check out now mom" you state as you turn around facing her. "what are you doing mom" you giggle at your mom failing to give a response as she is still actively recording, giving your boyfriend enough time to fully stand next to you without you sensing his presence. After standing there perplexed at your mom's unusual reaction, you begin to turn to leave her and go check out so you can go back home. "oh my god" you exclaimed, hugging yourself out of pure shock, finally seeing who was standing next to you the whole time. "hi baby" matt finally speaks, giggling at your cuteness. "oh my god" you reiterate again finally wrapping your arms around matt's neck as he shifts his grip from your waist to your thighs lifting you off of the ground as you wrap your legs around him. "mom did you know about this" you ask genuinely as matt sets you back on your feet. " baby both your mom and my mom planned it out" Matt interjects grabbing the sides of your face and kissing your forehead then proceeds to wrap his arms around your neck and bring you into him. "okay well I will leave you lovebirds to it, I will meet you guys at the car " you mom announces walking out of Sephora.

"talk to me pretty girl what has been happening" Matt finally speaks up as you look up at him from your tight embrace "I really needed you today i have been so stressed out and I thought you were forgetting about me when you didn't text me at all today" you ramble on. "hey i would never forget about you I've known you my whole life, I'm crazy about you" he replies simply brushing the hair out of your face that had fallen from your messy ponytail. "pinky promise" you huff out as matt pulls away from the hug you guys were sharing to link your guys pinkies. "pinky promise angel"

Taglist

@adirtylittleheart @mintsturniolo

#sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo

[greenqueenhightower]

The emotional rollercoaster I fear that Alicole shippers will go through in S2:

Alicent and Criston spend *too much time* together, as early as in episode 1. (Yayy, we get our hopes up that their relationship is growing. Imagine some angsty build-up before the love scenes) and then

we get two love scenes! (Woohoo! Imagine they are tender and loving and just imagine some beautiful moments between them)

then b&c happens at the same time as one of the love scenes (imagine the pain and the torture)

then Alicent and Criston avoid each other or blame one another because they feel guilty and responsible (imagine the grief and the agony)

what if Alicent tells Criston she wants nothing to do with him anymore? And Criston complies because he feels unworthy for having failed her? (Imagine the absolute heartache, bitterness, and despair)

and then, depending on how the rest of the season plays out, imagine Alicent and Criston finding comfort in one another through mutual losses and once again relying on one another for courage and strength (imagine the epitome of romance, the depth of tenderness and love they would have cultivated for each other by this point)

#writers please do not mess this up #give us an arc we can be proud of #alicole #alicent x criston #criston x alicent #criston cole #ser criston cole #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd s2 #hotd season 2 #team green #greenqueenhightower #hotd meta #hotd speculation #hotd spoilers #hotd thoughts #b&c

[mixelation]

so i think the order of events in (a)synchronicity is this. btw this is going to fully lean into shinigami shenanigans incuding...... sexy shenanigans

minato saves tori and she decides she is going to kill him

tori makes minato soup

some other stuff happens including minato tracking her back down and her breaking minato's arm

minato is obsessed with her now

over the course of this tori has been killed a few times to really drive home what happens when she "dies"

jiraiya and kushina both promise minato they will help him get laid

minato is reporting on tori at the beginning but he lapses and fails to communicate adequately to anyone how deadly she is. he's in love, okay, and the only people he respects are egging him on

he kills a bunch of people at her request and tori decides she DOES like him back. this isn't even the "kill one thousand iwa-nin in one go" thing btw

the "kill one thousand iwa-nin in one go" thing happens and it's not even on konoha's orders. minato just does this to get his girlfriend back. he's super happy about it too because now they're together <3

konoha is finally like: wait. wait what the F U C K

hiruzen is like: drop yur girl and take this genin team and minato is like: no i can do both >:(

konoha goes to check out tori but she's just. some. lady????

and so konoha is like. oh my god, the yellow flash has completely lost it. let's wok him to death

and then that DOESN'T WORK

konoha decides the solution is to kill tori. but they want to send minato a lesson because he's actively ignoring direct orders to dump her and they can't let him realize they actually can't stop him from doing whatever he wants.

so the plan is: use jiraiya to distract minato with a mission. kill tori and physically cut the hiraishin marker off her skin. then move her somewhere and mutilate her corpse for the "lesson" part. thy'd prefer to mutilate her FIRST but also they don't know if she has a way to summon minato. so the priority is to kill her and get the marker off

however jiraiya is not stupid and also he's a nice guy who really does want to get minato laid. he realizes something is up after minato says something incongruent with something hiruzen said to him

minato show up just in time to see tori is freshly dead, and then all the konoha-nin still on the scene just. die? he didn't even do anything???

tori flips out bc the shinigami si still possessing her and it gets ~greedier~ every time she dies but she LIKES minato and NOT HIM--!

the shinigami is like: you know what. you're right. even though i'm perpetually starving, this guy is the only one who's ever filled me.

and then the shinigami is like: in want him inside us though, right now

tori: minato. fuck me. right now minato, confused and overjoyed and also sensing something is weird and terrible: you were DEAD??? tori: i'm fine. we want you to. minato: all the grass around you is dead

jiraiya has been completely ignored in this and he's run off to hunt down someone from the konoha team who went off as a messenger. jiraiya takes him captive to come back to tori alive again and doing. whatever the fuck that is

minato instinctively kind of knows what happened and he's freaked out but also. that's his cute girlfriend and someone stabbed a senbon through her neck. :<

they get the full story out of jiraiya's captive

this is some sort of moral turning point. tori decides she does want minato for forever, and to do that she'll have to end the war and maybe konoha itself. minato suddenly finds his faith in his own village tanked. jiraiya is beginning to suspect hooking up with tori is a bad idea

also

tori: please? pleeeease?

minato, in tears: no i'm NOT going to choke you to death in bed to have kinky shinigami sex

tori: i have never been hornier for you though :<

minato: (sobbing)

and maybe

tori: hey if the shinigami kills everything but you while we do it. do you think you're shooting blanks or what

minato: please stop trying to run experiments on my dick

#asynchronicity #toriverse

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Prompt (it's okay if you ignore this one cos it's a bit dark/triggering): Lena, post S4 having just killed her brother & finding out about the SG secret, is suicidal, like seriously considering ending it once and for all. BUT she finds something that brings her back to wanting to live and be happy (a new goal or motivation?) Side reigncorp would be nice, having Sam there to support her etc and she's the only one she trusts right now plus she's the only one who never lied to/betrayed her. Thanks!

WARNING FOR SUICIDAL THOUGHTS/INTENTIONS

----

Lena stares at the pill bottle in her hand. It would be so easy, she thinks. Just tip the bottle to her lips and swallow the lot with a chaser of bourbon. Let herself drift away into sleep. Maybe she'd get lucky and remain blissfully unaware of the vomit and foam that would likely follow. Perhaps her mind would block it out, allow her to sink peacefully into death while her body convulsed to reject the poison.

She considers who might find her. The cleaners perhaps, due to return in two days time. Or more likely Jess, when she fails to come to work or answer her phone. Certainly not Kara, who believes everything between them is fine-- that their friendship hasn't shattered into irrecoverable shards.

Kara. No, Supergirl. Fucking Supergirl.

Lena clenches her eyes shut, but the image of the hero simply projects against the backs of her eyelids. With her stupid hair and her stupid cape and her stupid, lying smile. But no. The truth is, Lena is the idiot. An idiot to think she'd made true friends, to think she could share the innermost parts of herself with someone who wouldn't turn around and use it against her.

They played you for a fool, Lex's voice echoes from beyond the grave.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Suddenly, an explosion of glass issues from her living room. Lena surges for her handgun, and carefully creeps from her bedroom. Her fingers clenches unnecessarily-- angrily-- against the trigger when she recognizes the caped figure that rises shakily from the floor. But she doesn't fire.

"Lena?" Kara croaks, cradling her middle as though her ribs are broken. Lena watches her scan the living room and kitchen before locating her outside the bedroom. "Lena..."

"What do you want?"

She means it to sound angry, or at the very least irritated. Instead, she just sounds tired, even to her own ears.

"Something's happened to Alex-- to everyone. The DEO is compromised. They--" The hero grimaces in pain. "They tried to kill me."

"So you came to me."

"I hoped you wouldn't be affected. Whatever it is... it's bad. It's really bad."

Lena tries to feel something. Concern, outrage, curiosity-- anything. But she can't. She feels flat, like the air has deflated from her, leaving her a sagging balloon, pressed down by the weight of the air around her.

"Kara..."

Lena sees the exact moment the name hits home, and its implication hits home. Her eyes close in resignation-- not apology, Lena notes distantly.

"You figured it out--?"

"No."

Kara nearly sighs. "Your mother?"

"Brother," Lena allows, "but interesting that you know Lillian knew."

Lex was right. Everyone in the world but her knew the truth. Even her mother. And Kara knows that Lillian knows. That she allowed Lena's family to know the truth, but not she herself.

Fuck her.

"And now you've come to the Luthor you've managed to keep in your pocket."

Like always, Lena notes. Every time she's been involved with Supergirl and her allies, it's been as a last resort. Not because they truly wanted her or her help. Because they had nowhere else to turn.

Her stomach turns, and again Lena's thoughts flicker back to the prescription bottle in her bedroom. She feels sick, and she doesn't want to. She'd rather feel nothing at all than feel this.

"Lena..." Kara straightens as best she can. "I'm not here because I have to be. I'm here because you're the only one I trust."

Their eyes lock for a long moment, and Lena hopes her gaze conveys her disbelief. The words mean nothing, and the fact Kara expects her to believe them is actually insulting.

"What do you expect me to do?"

"We need to know what's affected them and find a way to neutralize it."

"I'll need a current blood sample, and a sample from before the changes in behavior occurred for comparison."

Lena turns back towards her bedroom.

"Then I'll see what I can do."

---

What she can do, it would seem, is quite a lot. Per usual. She isolates a chemical signature in Agent Schott's blood that stands out as abnormal, and traces it back to readings taken from clothes that have arrived on several alien refugee ships. The chemical is alien in nature, but it's not long before Lena synthesizes a counteragent to render the chemical inert until it could be processed from the bloodstream on its own.

She does all this before it can spread further than the DEO. Kara looks at her with gratitude and relief and a little bit of patent awe, but Lena isn't impressed with herself or her results. Isn't this what she always does? Pulls a rabbit out of her ass and saves the day-- but never enough to breach that final circle of trust she never even knew existed.

Once she confirms all DEO employees are returned to their normal selves, Lena withdraws. She relinquishes her role at L-Corp to Sam with some easy bullshit about taking a sabbatical. She hoards her prescriptions, waiting for the moment to be right.

The night she chooses is dark and rainy. But she manages to prod herself to going to the boutique liquor store beforehand-- might as well go out sipping something luxurious and expensive.

On her way back, she pauses on the sidewalk when she hears something moving beneath the car parked next to her along the curb. When it doesn't come again, she moves to resume her march home, but is stopped again by a new sound.

A whine.

Lena hesitates. She can keep walking, pretend she never heard it. But her feet remain rooted against her intentions to leave, until she finally relents and climbs down to her hands and knees. Pressing her cheek almost to the cement, she peers under the sedan and sees the soggy silhouette of a small quadruped.

A puppy. Or some sort of small breed. When it shifts, she sees disproportionately gangly limbs and a long tail curled around its trunk. Puppy.

Lena sighs. "C'mere," she mutters, reaching her arm under the car. The dog is far enough under that her shoulder feels like it nearly dislocates before she finally catches the sorry creature by the scruff of the neck.

It yelps when she drags it out into the rain, but makes no move to escape when she stares down at it appraisingly. Short brown fur darkened by rain, small half-flopped ears, and big brown eyes. It's certainly the picture of a creature any decent human being would cleave to.

"All right," she says heavily. "Let's get you somewhere dry."

She picks the pup up and tucks it into her coat. It curls into the warmth of her chest, shivering all the way back to her apartment. She snags a towel from the linen closet before removing her coat, and transfers the animal directly into it.

Once it's mostly dry, Lena sits back and stares at the beast as it stares at her. She glances at the bottle of liquor she'd set on the coffee table next to the pup.

Lena sighs.

"You chose a hell of a night to turn up," she says drily. Lena gives the dog's head a rub before picking it up to set it gently on the floor.

"Let's get you some food."

----

(Prompts are closed)

#prompt filled #cw: suicidal ideation #cw: suicide #prompts are closed #this has been sitting in my inbox for over a year #so that should tell you how ready i am to take new prompts #which is-- not any time soon #this one was heavy enough i wasnt sure where to take it #but im satisfied with this #let me know what you think!

[ionlysurviveoncaffine]

This was inspired by @cuppajj’s beast ancients au! So, credits to them! Also this will feature my oc, Choco-mochi cookie! I might make a part two, but that’s still not determined yet.

Tw: has triggering things like forced-isolation and neglect. Read at your own discretion or don’t read if that’s uncomfortable for you. Remember, this is fiction. If that’s what’s happening to you, then get help and know that there always a way to get out of the situation. Remember that you are loved and you are amazing.

Mochi cookie was never the silent nor stoic one in the palace. They were the emotional one who always spoke the loudest when to came to their passions, their curiosities, and their ideas. In a land where the stoic and strong prevailed, it was a suprise that the second to the throne was so…full of emotion and curiosity. At one point, they would ask questions everyday and all day. Why was the licorice sea black? Why did they have to not eat so many sweets? Or why can’t they be friends with everyone? And what was more was that they’d ask these silly questions to anyone, including their father Dark Cacao. Yes, the King of the Dark Cacao kingdom before he became…the cookie he was now.

But now? Oh, the young cookie was so scared. The same cookie, the same man, and the same king that swore to protect them, had failed them. Any and all questions were seen as a threat. As something that was making the same starry eyed child warp into a threat that would take over the kingdom in his eyes. While freezing them would work, he couldn’t do that. So, he decided for a more merciful approach. In order to cease this threat, he’d just, lock her in a cold room. Alone. At first, the young cookie thought maybe they had done something wrong. So, they tried to regain their father’s approval by trying to be stoic or strong. Of course, the only thing that landed her was silence from him. He didn’t acknowledge it nor did he seem to pay mind to her. So, she tried to make her presence known by doing the one thing that she did best: talking. However, after a few sentences in, she was promptly yelled at for speaking out of line and forcibly dragged into the room.

“Insolence and impudence must be snuffed”. was his reasoning. Such bold and audacious questions and talk would possibly cause the kingdom to loose control. And what then? What would become of this kingdom other than an another piece of territory for the rest of his foes. It would become Dragonberry’s, or Midnight Lily’s. Or worse, it would be burnt ablaze by Saint Vanilla. So, with such twisted and paranoid thinking, he kept her inside. Inside a dark desolate castle that was silent.

The young cookie was so alone. They sobbed and cried as they went to the only cookies they could trust: Carmel Arrow and Crunchy Chip cookie. The two were once fiercely loyal to the king, but their loyalty was slipping as they saw the crushed hope and light of the child. They quietly gave comfort in the secrecy of the now paranoid king as they whispered soft comforts and let the child sob of their pain and fear. Well, that was there for a good while. At least until the only cookies Mochi trusted were forced to leave.

The event that led to Carmel and Crunchy’s departure was still a mystery to Mochi. Why would they leave? Why didn’t they bring her along? Were they also tired of her presence as well? They had more questions than ever, but it didn’t feel the same as before. It felt suffocating, burdensome, and downright painful. Were they truly alone in this castle? Mochi wandered the halls, as they pondered this. After the event, it seemed that everything was worse. It seemed that it was the nail in the coffin that would silence Mochi forever.

But no, this wouldn’t be the end. Not today, even after all the pain and suffering Mochi had been through, they were determined to find them. Determined to bring back light, determined to make things right. And most of all, now they wanted more to leave. To leave the hellhole that made them walk on eggshells. To find help, to find their lost family, and to regain their voice. So, when dusk had set and many were asleep, Mochi quietly packed their bags of the scarce yet precious belongings they still had, and snuck out to the desolate frozen land that was unforgiving as the castle.

(Authors note: man, this was crazy. Idk how many words, but this was my first one shot. Hopefully it’s good for y’all! Again credits to @cuppajj and their amazing beast ancients au!)

#beast ancients au #crk story #crk au #crk oc #Crk #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #frigid cacao cookie #Carmel arrow cookie #crunchy chip cookie #dark cacao cookie #tw neglect and forced isolation

[redr0sewrites]

ahem ahem... I saw your requests were open and i am viciously starving for arcane content sooooooo

Praise n Mommy kink w/ Service top Caitlyn x fem reader? 👀

Decent...?

🥀A/n : GRRRRR I LOVE U FOR THIS- it has a twist at the end i really enjoyed hehe, so i hope u like it too!!! gen considering making this a series...

🥀 Pairing(s) : Caitlyn x fem!reader

🥀Cw : smut, aftercare/fluff at the end, mommy kink, praise, safeword mention, pwp, Vi walks on on yall at the end, sub!fem!reader

🥀 minors dni

you hurry up towards Caitlyn's room, navigating the familiar passageways of her mansion towards your lover. you were stopping by to visit her after hearing about her return to Piltover, and you couldn't deny that you were excited to hear about the experience. she had sent you a letter in the middle of her trip, but you were practically dying for more details.

while it had only been a few days since you'd last seen her, you were already bubbling with anticipation. you had heard all about her theories and hoped, for her sake, she had caught a lead.

you had also heard about her escapades with a certain red head from the undercity, and above all, you were intrigued about the new acquaintance she had seemingly made.

as you approached the door to her room, you felt a moment of hesitation overcome you as your hand hovers over the door knob. you hope she wasn't too tired, Caitlyn had a tendency to wear herself out after long days and difficult jobs. you didn't want to wake her if she was sleeping, but your desire to see her trumps your worries.

knock, knock.

you gently knock on the door, and after a beat of silence, a familiar voice beckons you in. however, before you could enter, Caitlyn opens the door without you even touching the handle and pulls you into a tight hug.

"hey, baby.. you okay?" you ask, gently carding a hand through her hair. she releases you, a tired but warm smile on her face. "i'm better now that you're here, darling." she gently pulls you into her room, closing the door to reveal its emptiness. you were both relieved and disappointed, as you were hoping to meet Vi, but grateful for the time alone.

the room is quiet as you move towards the bed and sit down, the mattress dipping beneath you. you kick off your shoes before climbing fully onto the bed and, after a beat of silence, you broke the tension.

"soo... how'd it go?" Caitlyn heaves a sigh, flopping down beside you on the bed and groaning. she takes off her shoes and outer layers, and begins to rant. "so much happened, it was incredible, and terrible, and life-changing all at once... and even after all that we- I failed. i found the truth about the undercity, about the crystal, everything, and yet- i couldn't retrieve it." Caitlyn sighs again, and turns to press a kiss to your temple.

"i'm sorry.." you whisper, unsure of what to say. fuck, why is comforting people so hard? Caitlyn chuckles, her breath light against the side of your face. "it's okay, none of it is your fault. i'm just a bit... stressed, darling. nothing to apologize for."

Caitlyn's gaze meets yours, and your breath hitches as clear blue eyes meet yours. "y'know.. i know something that can help with stress," you tease, and shoot Caitlyn a corny wink. she bursts out laughing, lurching forward slightly and your noses brush together as you both giggle.

"oh, shut it, you!" she laughs, but pulls you into a kiss. the mattress creaks slightly as she gets onto her knees, and you follow her lead. she sits up on the bed and you follow, lips chasing hers as she ravishes you.

"mngh.."

the soft whine that escapes your lips made your cheeks heat as Caitlyn pulls you onto her lap. how is this woman so composed? her lips immediately find yours again as she pulls you in, both of her hands frame your face as you meet in another electric kiss.

even though it had only been a few days since you had seen eachother, Caitlyn was determined to make it up to you.

you struggle to ground yourself, gasping between kisses as Caitlyn gently pushes you down upon the bed. she moves to straddle you, her muscular thighs are firm against you and in the moment, you can think of nothing but her. fuck, how did i pull her? the thought evaporates in an instant as she leans down to kiss you again, her skirt riding up as your lips press together.

this kiss is more fierce, a sloppy and entrancing mixture of teeth and tongue. delicate hands travel down to your waist as your back arches off the bed, and you feel a twinge in your gut as Caitlyn rolls her hips against you. "hngh-" you gasp, and Caitlyn pulls away slightly to take in your flushed features.

"is this okay, darling?" you nod fervently, your back arches slightly as your hands find purchase on her hips. Caitlyn chuckles at your enthusiasm but says nothing, before climbing off of you completely. you almost let out an indignant whine, when Caitlyn quickly begins to undress. immediately understanding, you follow her lead, until your both bare except for your undergarments.

"your so pretty, darling," she murmurs, and kisses your collarbone. your breath hitches as her trail of lovemarks and affection travels lower and lower, until she reaches your navel.

Caitlyn presses a gentle kiss on your happy trail before hooking her fingers through the waistband of your soaked panties. her gaze drifts down to your drooly pussy, yet she doesn't move an inch.

"is this okay, my sweet?" the sight of her piercing gaze on your clothed cunt combined with her velvetty words made you tremble, and you nod yet again. your brain is already turned to mush, and both of you know that you're too far gone for words at this point. you have been dating Caitlyn for a few months, and yet you still fold from just a few simple touches. maybe you are pussy whipped.

Caitlyn removed your panties and tosses them to the side before gently toying with your soaked pussy. you clench around nothing as nimble fingers trace through your folds, gathering your slick.

"already so wet, such a good girl," Caitlyn whispers, before leaning down to press a kiss on your clit. simultaneously, she curls a finger inside you, slowly stretching out your gummy walls and easing you into a comfortable rhythm. you can't help but squirm at the intrusion, and the addition of another finger only makes your brain more fuzzy.

"thats it, that's my girl," she coos, curling two fingers against a spot that makes you see stars. at the same time Caitlyn leans down and licks a stripe up your cunt, sucking on your pulsing clit and stimulating all the places her fingers can't reach. "o-oh!" you gasp, your back immediately arching as you begin to slowly grind against her face, desperate for friction. Caitlyn chuckles against your aching cunt, and the vibrations against your pussy make your head spin.

"ffuck- Caitlynnghhg-" you mewl as she slips a third finger into your clenching heat. your slick coats her lips and fingers, and you can feel your release approaching. "m close, please please mommy-" you whine, throwing your head back as your thighs begin to tremble. your lover notices the familiar pet name and realizes how close you are, and begins to speed up her fingers' pace.

in tandem with her strokes, Caitlyn sucks harder on your clit, her tongue working wonders as it swirls over your needy bud. "mommy, please-" you keen, feeling the coil in your stomach tightening to a breaking point.

your cunt flutters and siezes around her fingers as she pushes you over the precipice. with a final, guttural moan, your back arches and your thighs squeeze around your lovers head as your first orgasm of the night washes over you.

as you begin to come down from your high, you realize that Caitlyn has stood up and is scuffling around by your bedside table. your stomach flips in excitement as you see her take out a familiar strap. Caitlyn quickly joins you on the bed, and fastens the harness.

"you did s'good for me, darling, so good. now, i need you to suck on mommy's cock n' get it all wet, okay?" your cheeks flush at her words, and you realize how lewd you had sounded before. "don't get shy on me darling, i need you to stay with me. now, open up, okay?" Caitlyn reaches out to grab your face as you lay on your stomach in front of her. your neck cranes to "taste" her silicone dick as it rubs against your cheek, and you take her cock in your mouth.

you make sure to swirl your tongue over the tip, making direct eye contact with Caitlyn as you do so. a sliver of drool slips past your lips and she doesn't hesitate to scoop it up with her thumb. the amount of trust between you two, combined with the vulnerability of your position, only makes you more needy.

Caitlyn gently pulls her strap out of your mouth, careful not to move around to much lest she choke you. her silicone cock is dripping with your own spit, and she orders you to lay back on the bed.

"relax, dear, just give me a second.." Caitlyn murmurs, crawling atop you and aligning her dripping strap with your soaked cunt. she pauses as she rubs her dick against your folds, and makes eye contact with you. "do you remember the safeword?" you nod, tucking your head into the crook of her neck and whispering it in her ear.

"good girl," Caitlyn murmurs, almost absentmindedly. she aligns her strap with your aching cunt, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your thigh while the other toys with your clit. "your so sweet for me.." she whispers, and slowly begins to push her cock inside of your cunt. you mewl at the intrusion, burying your head into thr crook of her neck as your gummy walls clamp down on her strap.

"you can take it, darling," Caitlyn purrs, and thrusts fully into your soaked heat. swift fingers continue to toy with your clit as you fall apart, crumbling even though she hasn't even moved yet. Caitlyn seems to realize this, and slowly pulls out before pushing her cock back inside of you. her strap reaches places inside of your pussy that your fingers could never hit, and your eyes roll back from pleasure.

"mnghh-ommy!" the term of endearment slips out yet again before you even have the time to think, and Caitlyn curses under her breath. her thrusts begin to increase in pace, reaching deeper and deeper inside you as tears well up in your eyes. the pleasure is mind numbing as she continues to circle your clit with her thumb, and your hips instinctively roll up off the bed towards her touch.

Caitlyn's hair slips over her shoulders, framing the both of you in an indigo silhouette. you can already feel your release beginning to build as Caitlyn thrusts in, buried to the hilt in your sloppy pussy. your clit pulses beneath her touch, already yearning for release.

"mommy, please," you mewl tearily, thighs quaking as your eyes roll back into your head. "m close-" Caitlyn shuts you up with a kiss, burying her tongue in your mouth. you can taste your own slick, and the thought only makes you needier. Caitlyn's thrusts begin to grow sporadic as the bed shakes, and you know that you won't last much longer.

as if on cue, Caitlyn breaks away from your kiss to whisper in your ear. "its okay, baby, you can cum," she murmurs, accentuating her words with a deep thrust. the tip of her cock ever so gently brushes against your cervix and you sob from the mixture of pain and pleasure. the coil in your abdomen is tightening beyond belief, and a few more wanton moans fall past your lips.

Caitlyn rolls her hips especially deep, rocking against you as the sound of skin slapping against skin and your own moans drown your senses.

"go on, hah, darling. you can cum," Caitlyn's voice slurs, her breath tickles your face as your bodies collide. all it takes are these few words for you to come undone, your back arches and your eyes roll back as you fall into ecstasy. tears stream down your face as pleasure washes over you like a tidal wave.

as you come down from your euphoric high, Caitlyn presses soft kisses across your face. "you did so good for me, my sweet, so good. 'm so proud," she coos, brushing the hair out of your face and pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. all you can do is nod, too fucked out for anything else.

"lets get you cleaned up, okay darling?" again, you nod, melting into her embrace as she scoops you up. and head towards the bathroom. fuck, she's strong, you think, nestling into her embrace as she presses yet another kiss to your forehead. you wouldn't have it any other way.

suddenly, a knock on the door startles you both and, without warning, a red haired girl barges in.

"Caitlyn! i have something to- OH SHIT" the girl turns away, face almost turning the color of her hair in shock. you rush to cover yourself with a nearby robe, flushing under the scrutiny of the stranger in front of you. Vi, you recognized internally. Caitlyn had only been able to send you one letter while she was in the undercity, but it had told you a bit about the red haired stranger in front of you.

"Vi! what did i tell you about knocking!" Caitlyn is flushed, and quickly wraps a towel around her bare form. Vi, clearly embarrassed, turns away, and you can't help but laugh at the sight of such a gruff individual looking so awkward.

Caitlyn soon joins you in your laughter, and Vi rolls her eyes. "can you two please get decent so i can talk to you?" she huffs, and you can't help but smile. "alright, alright", Caitlyn sighs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "you bathe without me, okay? i'll join you in a minute, after i get decent". she accentuates the last words in a mocking tone, and Vi grumbles again. "lovebirds.." she sighs, and leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

"that should teach her to knock," you giggle, and Caitlyn shoots you a look. "knowing her, it won't," she chuckles, and you squeeze her hand. you can tell she's concerned about whatever Vi had to say, and you know how important this case is to her. "go talk to her, she wouldn't have barged in if it wasn't important."

"i don't want to leave you-"

"i can handle myself, Cait. now seriously, go. i think Vi will throw a fit if you don't join her soon," you reply, kissing Caitlyn again on the nose.

"i love you, darling," she murmurs, and you watch as she gets dressed. blowing you one last kiss, she leaves the room, where you can see Vi's silhouette in the hallway. Caitlyn closes the door behind her and you enter the bathroom, relaxed and content. you knew Caitlyn would join you soon, but for now, it would be best to enjoy a peaceful shower alone. you hope your next meeting with Vi would be less chaotic, and more, as she put it, decent.

Caitvi x reader slowburn multi chapter fic... what do yall think... ummm...... these woman are corrupting my brain hhhhhh..... aaaaaaaa!!! would yall want Decent to become a series?? anyways GOSH this took wayyyyyy too long like i could NOT finish the smutty part in the middle i hope it wasn't too obvious🙏🙏🙏 i actually really enjoyed this req ehhehee- hope u enjoyed too!!!

#arcane x reader #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane smut #arcane fluff #arcane x reader smut #arcane vi #arcane caitlyn #arcane caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn smut #caitlyn kiramman smut #caitvi x reader #crack fic #arcane fic #arcane imagines #arcane league of legends #arcane caitlyn imagine #caitlyn imagine #caitlyn #caitvi

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.127 Blessing in the storm

Back outside, I found a remnant of our party crew. Maira and her family held down the dance floor while Mama and Chi Chi yammered on about who knows. Hopefully they got all my embarrassing childhood stories out of their systems. Sophia sat at a table, probably nursing her back. I asked if she wanted to go home, but she said she was okay. It began to rain, so Maira, Chi Chi, and the Ricketts family went home, and me, Sophia, and Mama went inside. I was starving and realized I hadn't eaten since breakfast, so I grabbed a plate of ribs and ate in the dining room. Sophia followed me, and so did Mama. I guess it was story time.

I began by apologizing for not doing what I promised to do. It wasn't my intention, but it just happened that way.

"We've been trying to get pregnant ever since we got engaged," I said.

I watched Mama's face and saw the exact moment she realized where the story was heading. Nothing I said came close to being her fault, but I could see the mommy guilt oozing from her eyes, and I knew exactly what she was saying to herself in that moment. My son needed me, and I wasn't there. I failed my child. I'm a bad mother. I had lived long enough to understand there was nothing I could do or say to ease those kinds of thoughts, but I still wanted to.

Sophia jumped in and talked about her first suspicions of a problem, getting tested, and doing treatment. I explained we didn't say anything then because we thought the treatments would work quickly and we'd be pregnant any day. We thought telling everyone would cause unnecessary alarm, but as the days went on, it got harder and harder to reach out because we were so devastated. We used every ounce of remaining energy to keep our minds off it because we were emotionally spent.

Finding out about Alessia's pregnancy was hard. Really, really hard. I was angry at her because I wanted what she had, and she didn't even appreciate it. On top of that, I found out I also had low fertility which pretty much eliminated our odds of getting pregnant.

"Your granddaughter was conceived through the miracle of IVF," I said.

"Oh, my sweet boy! I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that! I wish I could have known so I could comfort you, but I understand why you didn't reach out. I know all too well what it's like to feel you need to suffer alone."

"IVF is really expensive, though," she continued. "Are you okay? Do you need help? I could-"

"We're fine, Mama. But, thank you."

"Okay. I'm glad. Wow... I don't know how to feel. Like, my heart is broken for you, but I'm extra excited about your future now. I always thought you'd be amazing parents, but I know you'll be even more so now and will spoil this baby rotten. I'm so proud of how you two support each other. You've got the real thing, and it makes me so happy."

"When I learned about you," she said to Sophia, "I dreamed about this time. I looked forward to staying with you for a few days while you found your wings and make sure you two got enough rest. Things won't be quite like that now, but I'm still here for you guys. I'm not sure when I'll be able to get away and meet your sweetheart, but if you need anything at all, call me. I'll find a way to help."

"That's really sweet, Emmy. Thank you!"

I had to be the most blessed man in all the world. My parents loved and supported every move I made; They loved my wife; I was going to be a father; My best friend was moving to town. What more could I ask for?

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #sophia aguilar #emerald pope #tw infertility

[undiscoverable-words]

Late Night Talking

I. The Debut

Phoebe was not sure what she was going to tell Penelope. She sat in the carriage across from her mama and rubbed her sweating palms across her knees. It didn’t help. Her mind flooded with her father’s threats after she returned to London, disgraced. There was no accounting for what could have happened to her, and for his slack she was grateful, but it all still made her stomach turn. 

“You will do great, dear.” Her mother promised, giving an unconvincing smile. 

A young woman’s debut was one of the most important moments of her life, as it helped shape and determine the debutante’s future. But after everything that occurred during her year away, Phoebe felt lucky to get a debut at all. She was sure her father would disgrace her and forfeit his title and estates to a distant nephew or cousin, and yet he allowed her debut. Calling Cecil generous was rare among their circle, everyone knew the way he truly behaved, but in this moment Phoebe would describe her father as generous. 

Phoebe mirrored her mother’s weak smile and clenched her fists in her lap as she gazed outside at the trees going past on their way to the palace. There was plenty to dread about the afternoon, and her buzzing brain could not decide what to worry about the most: perfecting her debut, re-entering London society, or seeing Queen Charlotte again for the first time in a month. The viscous scowl that etched the Queen’s face the last time she laid eyes on Phoebe made the debutante shudder, even now. And at the memory, her heart began to ache. 

During her year abroad, Phoebe had been fortunate enough to become acquainted with Prince Friedrich of Prussia. It had taken a handful of encounters for him to admit why he was in France, but once he admitted he was recessing from the London season after a failed attempt at finding a wife, Phoebe had to ask him all about it, and what she had missed. 

She had felt guilty for missing the chance to debut with one of her closest friends, Daphne Bridgerton, but was intrigued by the Prince’s tale that happened to involve her a great deal. As he went on, Phoebe felt disappointed at his interest in her friend, and then elated to find out that Daphne had found herself a love match with the Duke. And the joy was wholly selfless, as she felt more excited for Daphne to be in love than she did for the Prince’s availability, though she had to admit it was nice to know he was not spoken for. 

Phoebe would be lying if she had said Prince Friedrich was not attractive. She loved to see him smile, his whole face lighting up with joy, and his eyes bright. His blond hair shined in the sunlight, and his accent was more charming than she had expected, although maybe it was his personality and temperament that charmed her.

“It’s too bad,” She said, feeling bold, and warm from the flutters in her stomach. “I was meant to debut this season, if I were there perhaps it would not have gone so poorly for you.” 

The Prince flushed, but reassured her that he was charmed by her words and not at all offended by her courage. 

“The season is not over, Miss Pembroke, perhaps it is lucky that I met you now.” He said, returning her sentiment. 

He called on her often after their revelation. Phoebe felt like the luckiest girl in the world to enjoy her time abroad with such perfect company. When they were together time warped as if they had known each other for years and as if time went at lightspeed in each other’s presence. After weeks of courting, the prince wanted to propose to Phoebe. He invited her to meet his aunt, Queen Charlotte, and assured Phoebe that the Queen only wanted him to be happy, and to find a suitable Princess. 

“Do not worry, my love, once she meets you she will be just as charmed as I, and agree to have us married post-haste.” Friedrich reassured, with a loving, doting smile as he enveloped her hand in his. 

He moved to caress her face, and nearly kissed her in that moment. His breath fanned her cheek as she stared up into his bright blue eyes and already felt as if she could not breathe. 

“Marry you?” The Queen scoffed, eying Phoebe. 

Friedrich reached for Phoebe’s gloved hand and gave it a squeeze as he pleaded with his aunt. 

“She was meant to debut this season, Tante, it is fated that we met and formed a love connection, don’t you think?” He tried. 

The Queen looked on at Phoebe, wholly unimpressed. 

“No matter the consequences, you shall have a wonderful season, darling, I can feel it.” Amelia said, pulling her daughter away from the ghostly memory of her freedom and happiness. 

Phoebe nodded, offering a hum, but not moving her gaze from the window. She was not as sure as her mother that things would go well. 

Friedrich followed Phoebe through the gardens, trying to reach her. Once he finally grabbed hold of her hand, he spun her to face him. She did not want him to see her so ashamed, so she cast her eyes to her shoes in the dirt. 

“Darling, it is no matter. We can marry whether Tante blesses it or not. I know of a place that will marry us expeditiously, and then we can be happy together and build a life, and one day look back on today and laugh.” 

Phoebe’s heart lurched, aching, both sad and hopeful. 

There was no doubt that upon reflection the plan to run away was entirely flawed and shortsighted on both sides, though Phoebe still felt every last reverberation of heartache once it all fell apart.

The carriage halted, arriving at the palace. If the scorching sun, tight corset, and high stakes were not enough to make Phoebe feel faint, the utter number of debutantes made her feel suffocated and insignificant. Her breathing felt sharp as she stepped down from the carriage and waited for her mother to join her.

The pair had agreed to meet in the early morning hours, prepared for a long journey on the way to their nuptials. When Phoebe reached the main foyer, there were royal guards standing in her path. She was informed that Prince Friedrich was shipped off to Austria alone, and that Phoebe was never allowed to see him again. 

Phoebe spent the rest of her year abroad focussing on writing, and practicing her musical talents, as well as her French. She returned home to an angry father and a smudged reputation. This was also when Phoebe learned that Queen Charlotte was an incurable gossip, and was not afraid to disgrace the young Miss Pembroke for daring to fall in love with her nephew the prince. 

And now she stood in front of the Royal Palace, waiting to present herself to the Queen alone this time, hoping to not be disgraced further. All the while her father’s words rang through her mind as she made her way up the front steps, arm in arm with her mother. 

“You stupid, foolish girl! Now no one will have you when you make your debut. That is not what we had planned for you. You have ruined yourself!” He yelled, causing Phoebe to flinch, and hide the tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“Now, Cecil, surely we can find someone willing to marry her and still love her.” Her mother tried, earning a nasty scowl from her father. 

“By God, Amelia, does she get her stupidity from you? Is that where it was inherited?” 

Amelia gasped, and Phoebe stared as her parents argued. 

“What about the Bridgerton boy? He, too, just came home from traveling, and he also had a disgraceful engagement blunder last season. Surely he would be happy to court our Phoebe.” 

The debutante in question watched as her parents schemed a sure-fire match for her without considering consulting her. 

“That’s it! You must marry Colin Bridgerton. Do not disgrace yourself or our legacy further, but do what you must to enamor him with you. I will not let you become a spinster.” 

“Oh, yes! I shall set up another appointment with the modiste to be sure to get the most lavish, breathtaking, eye-catching dresses for our little girl!” Amelia beamed, leaving the room to make the arrangements. 

Cecil turned to his daughter, a look of disappointment, pity, and disgust piled into his wrinkles. 

“There, girl. We’ve found a solution for you. Do not ruin this more than you already have.” 

Phoebe hoped she would not run into Penelope until later in the week, perhaps at tea, or during a promenade, though none of those seemed like the right time to tell one of her best friends that she must marry the man who holds that friend’s heart.

#fanfic #ao3 #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #late night talking #colin bridgerton #colin x reader #colin x penelope #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #colin bridgerton fanfic #prince friedrich #prince friedrich x reader

[jillapril]

Have to admit these Alicole rumors hit me hard and now I‘m feeling really confused. I’m like thinking back and forth how this could make any sense, because obviously to me it doesn’t make any. To me it was just so clear that she saw him as a useful alliance and he put her on a pedestal like a holy Madonna. Both completely aligned on putting duty and (a questionable idea of) rightfulness first. I always understood Alicent as someone who completely repressed her own feelings and longings from her teenage years on - and the only person who ever was able to stir her well controlled emotions in both the sweetest and the ugliest way was Rhaenyra. I believe she always loved her and hated herself for it, tried to kill it all off by turning love into hate, but failed over and over again. And I believe her relationship towards sex is traumatized and not good at all - we all saw what it was with Viserys and we know how she deals with Larys.

But now. These rumors suddenly threaten everything I thought about Alicent and my whole (up to this point very dramatic yet delightful) experience of watching HotD!

I mean imagine they are true and there will be a sex scene between her and Cole in episode 1. I guess there are two options - this either has been an affair for a while now or it happens for the first time ever.

Scenario 1 would make her the worst hypocrite ever seen. And I really fear this scenario, given that the mysterious third son Daeron seems to be out there somewhere. I’m scared the writers felt pumped by the thought of starting off season 2 with the reveal that Alicent never was who she seemed to be in season 1. GoT always loved to shock. This scenario would completely break my heart I guess.

Scenario 2 just feels completely out of place to me. I mean during the last hours she had to bury Viserys, fight for Rhaenyra not getting murdererd, crown Aegon and getting the ceremony bombed by Rhaenys and receive the news that Aemond killed Lucerys. How the hell could she now be even thinking about sex?! There is just no way it makes sense to me. Would be different maybe if we were already some episodes into the season and we would have seen Alicent trying to find out what she really feels and wants and during this self-discovery makes the weird decision to try out Criston as well. But in episode 1?! This just causes error in my head.

All in all I guess I just wanted to say: I‘m really scared for the Alicent I perceived and loved and I fear that I will be wishing HotD could just have ended with season 1.

#rhaenicent #alicent hightower #hotd #why just why

[mist-touched]

Thanks to @aislingsurrow for the tag! Makes me feel welcome! 🥰

I'll nominate @iona-xiv , @elypiphoros, @chadhunkler, @kaddiekait and @but-first--tea

Basics

Name: Loksen Tyr

Nicknames: Loki

Age: 75+

Nameday: 15th Sun Second Astral Moon (March 15th, I think that's right)

Race: Veena Viera

Gender: Male

Orientation: Heterosexual (includes transwomen as long as he likes their scent)

Profession: Drifter and adventurer. Will do odd jobs for gil.

Physical Aspects

Hair: Wild, long and thick black with unusual blue streaks. Wears a few braids with feathers entwined in them in the Wood-warder tradition. Almost has a mullet as he keeps the front shorter. Will sometimes pull it into a loose bun.

Eyes: Deep crystalline blue. Like shards of Hydaelyn Herself.

Skin: Pale olive complexion mostly free of imperfections

Tattoos/Scars: Fingertips heavily calloused and scarred from years of archery practice. Branding scar on the back of his neck to show that he was a Garlean prisoner. Has a rather long thin scar on his right side that goes from front to back. Very low-key blue tattoo over his left eye applied by a friend.

Family

Parents: As normal for Viera, Loksen barely knew his father; meeting him only a few times in passing. But, he was a good man who would bring gifts to his mother and him when he visited periodically. Loksen mainly remembers that his mother would smile and laugh more when he came to visit and the general mood was raised around him.

Mother: Freja Grimholt, a shaman. Well-respected member of his village who would often offer guidance to others. A spiritual leader, she instilled in him a sense of wonder and a quiet respect for the Mist. She also taught him to love Vieran poetry.

Siblings: A couple of younger sisters whom he only met a couple times when they were very young kits. He hasn't seen them since before the fall of Dalmasca. Sometimes wonder how they're doing, a melancholic thought as he doesn't know what happened to the Skatay Range after Garlemald invaded Othard.

Grandparents: Unknown, Loksen's mother came from a different clan and village.

In-laws and Other: Various aunts on his mother's side, some biological, some friends, a couple sometime lovers of his mother.

Pets: None, but loves companion animals.

Skills

Abilities: An extremely skilled archer, it was the weapon he chose when he became a Wood-warder. The grueling training of a Wood-warder demanded talent and ability in equal measure and over the decades has honed his skills even further. Loksen has been known to provide demonstrations of Vieran sharpshooting to Woodwailers and engage in friendly contests of skill with the Gods' Quiver when he's in Gridania.

Master survivalist. The life of a Wood-warder required the ability to live out in the wilderness alone and with little resources, those who failed to learn ultimately died. He can be put in nearly any hostile environment and find a way to not just live, but thrive.

Super Sniffer: Possesses a keen, near-animalistic sense of smell. It could even be argued that their olfactory sense holds a greater importance even than sight; where one is limited by obstructing trees, the other can sense information for up to several malms, if focused. This, combined with being naturally aetherially capable, allows a Viera to even smell and parse the aether around them. Along with this talent comes the ability to recognise other individuals based on their unique scent, as well as to glean details from their ambient pheromones; their sex, their vague emotional state, their receptivity to mating, and other such physical factors. Where one’s pheromones are more akin to an olfactory fact sheet (providing basic physical information), their individual scent is their fingerprint and facial features – a unique identifier and a source of attraction all in one. Of course, this can be a handicap around bad smells.

Keen Ears: Like all Viera, he possesses extraordinary hearing, which is also reputed to be aetherically attuned. Normally if he wants to protect his ears and wishes to be relatively inconspicuous, he'll pile his ears under a hat.

Master Swordsman: These days he prefers the blade as his weapon of choice. Introduced to the Doman warrior tradition by an old samurai he was imprisoned with, he proved to be a natural, especially in the art of iai and over the years have continue to further hone his skill.

Hobbies: Fishing. Mahjong. Vieran romance poetry. Whittling.

Traits

Most Positive Trait: Despite being reserved to the point of being mistaken for aloof, Loksen possesses a good heart and a desire to help when he can.

Most Negative Trait: Can come across as aloof and still struggles with some social skills due to the isolation of being a Wood-warder and the trauma of being imprisoned.

Likes

Colors: Blues, blacks and silver/gray.

Smells: The salt spray. Vanilla. Lavender and rose. Water. Wood. Pickled fish. Grilled meat. Apple.

Textures: Smooth wood. Cool scales. Soft grass to lay on. Warm skin.

Drinks: Tea. Viera aquavit and mead (hard to get). Sake. Pickling juice. 

Other Details

Smokes: Yes. Smokes tobacco from a kiseru to dull his sense of smell around bad scents.

Drinks: Partial to sake and other strong spirits. Carries a flask with him. Handles his alcohol well.

Drugs: Aside from some natural herbs, nope.

Mount Issuance: None

Been Arrested: Was imprisoned for several years for futilely resisting the Garlean invasion of Dalmasca. Performed hard labor in harsh conditions.

#ffxiv oc #ffxiv rp #ffxiv viera #ff14 viera #oc lore #ffxiv writing #oc game #lore sen tyr

[noidedgirl]

im still reeling i got posted on r/relationshipadvice…. for self harming….. i……

#hey i’ve been clean 60 days #soooo i deserve a medal or something #ughhh im scared im going to do it again and she’s going to decide im too mentally i’ll and drop me #like her reaction the first and only time i relapsed was insane #and i don’t even blame her #if i was in the position of reading that post and offering her advice id say break up it’s not worth it too #like….. idk. idek. #i just feel like i really actually am a problem for her… #txt #and there’s two responses obv change or don’t change #and i’ve been trying so hard to change #but id be surprised if i didn’t relapse again yknow #what happens if i fail and she finds out…