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loonylesbian · 2 days

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ok i am very much so not a writer, or at least not creatively. but i had this idea and i couldn’t get it out of my head so i decided to write it out. it ended up being 6.1k words so feel free to not finish it cause i’m sure it’s not good. however if you do read the entire thing i hope you like it and don’t clown on me too hard. long story short either you’re welcome for this or i’m sorry for this. there is no inbetween

naked in manhattan // k. martin

10 years ago

“Kate can you believe it! We’re starting high school!!!” you scream, hugging your best friend on the last day of summer. If you were being totally honest, you were nervous never being good at making friends, always relying on Kate for that. Her being so outgoing and friendly, it’s not that you weren’t nice, you really were, if anyone asked Kate would say that you’re the sweetest person she’s ever met, you were just shy. Talking to just about anyone made you nervous, in fact, you had a short list of people who didn’t make you nervous.

“I know! It’s gonna be great, I’m gonna do my best in basketball and volleyball, and you, my little genius, are gonna be the best in every class, and make tons of new friends,” she reassured you as if she could feel the nerves radiating off of you in waves. You were grateful for that, she had always been able to know exactly what you were feeling and how to help, even if you didn’t. It was one of your favorite things about her, sure there were too many things you loved about her to count, but that was one of your absolute favorites.

“I promise I’m gonna do my best to make it to each and every single game of yours,” you told her holding up your pinky while looking up at her, she giggled and interlocked her pinky with yours in a pinky promise, something you have insisted on doing since you met. You swore that it was more real than a regular promise, and made it to where the universe let the promise happen, not just the people involved.

“Well if it’s a pinky promise, I know you're never gonna miss a game,” she replied with a smile reserved just for you.

7 years ago

So far your promise had held, not without some struggle, but you had still attended every game Kate had for both sports she played, and just about every other game she just wanted to watch. There were a few games where you were late because of your job, studying, or other things that had gotten in the way, and the two times where you sat as far away from everyone else as humanly possible because you didn’t want to get them sick but also didn’t want to miss Kate’s game, but for the most part you sat right at the front to cheer on your best friend.

After the game tonight you guys were gonna have a sleepover as tradition for Friday night games, whether it resulted in a win or a loss. Either way, you usually ended up in her arms bringing her comfort, whether that be her knowing that she deserves it because she played well and won to bring her down from that high or wishing she had done things differently to change that loss and you reassuring her that it wasn’t all her fault, because as far as your were concerned basketball was a team sport and a loss couldn’t hang solely on one person's shoulders. After all, you were her number one supporter, never failing to let her know how proud of her you are and how much you love her no matter how she feels. You made everything feel okay for her, but it was the least you could do, afterall she did that and more for you.

when i sing that lana song it makes you cry

On the drive back to her house listening to the radio, she couldn’t help but look at you as much as she could without crashing the car. She couldn't help but feeling like she was was really listening to the song for the first time as you were singing along to “Young and Beautiful” by Lana Del Ray. She didn’t quite know what it was but when she looked at you and listened to you singing she couldn't help but feel her heart race and her body flush, she swore she could listen to you forever. Had someone told her in that moment she would never get to hear you sing like that, she would swear she’d cry And if anyone asked, she would tell them she liked girls, it wasn’t like it was a secret, and she’s had crushes before, she knows what it feels like. But she never thought she would have a crush on you, purely because you were her best friend, she couldn’t do that, it could ruin your friendship. That wasn't something she was willing, or at least wanted, to risk. A friendship that you've had since kindergarten, although now that she thought about it, it was basically a lesbian right of passage to fall in love with your best friend and-

mean girls we watch every night, and we both have a crush on regina george

“So wanna watch Mean Girls?” you ask abruptly interrupting her thoughts. Truth be told she’s glad that you did, it was probably best that she didn’t dwell on those thoughts for too long. Little did she know she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t having completely friendly thoughts about the other. She was just the only one who wasn’t in total denial about liking girls in the first place.

“Obviously. As if we would watch anything else first,” she replies with a scoff as if it were crazy for you to even ask. Although, to be fair it was crazy of you to ask because that was the first movie you watched anytime you had a sleepover, and it had been that way for years.

“Sorry. Sorry. I forgot you had a crush on Regina George,” you said with a small chuckle, brushing off the twinge of pain you felt at the idea of Kate having a crush on anyone else, even if it was a fictional character from a movie. Because why would you be sad or jealous about that? She was just your best friend, right?

Kate flushed even more red at this comment if that were possible with the combination of the game she had just played and watching you. Even though it was chilly outside and in the car, in that moment it felt like it was 100°. She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or joy that was causing her to feel that way, but she did. In that moment life was perfect, the chill in the air, the rain falling around the car they sat in, the now soft music coming from the speakers, and most importantly you. She wished she could stay in that moment forever, just taking you in, stuck in that perfect moment forever. She let out a slightly nervous chuckle, lightly biting her lip, before she replied, not wanting to break the peace she felt.

“Okay, okay, don’t act like you don’t have a crush on her too. I know you have a thing for blondes.” She finally lets out trying to wave you off and ignore her pounding heartbeat, all while trying to steal another glance at you. What she doesn’t notice, however, is your face flushing or your fists clenching when she says that as if she uncovered a deep dark secret, that you hadn’t told anybody. And to be fair that’s exactly how you felt, you did have a crush on this mean girl and you did have a thing for blondes, but you hadn’t quite come to terms with that yourself, let alone talk to anybody about it. So if anyone asked, the blondes you had a thing for were blonde guys, but you were hoping nobody would ask. Even if that person was Kate, your best friend.

And you didn’t notice her grip on the steering wheel tighten a little bit, waiting for a response. Hoping you would do or say anything to acknowledge what she had said, telling her she was right or wrong, waving her off altogether, laughing. She waited for any acknowledgment of what she had said for the rest of the ride home, but it never came. Instead, you changed the subject all together after sitting in silence for a few minutes. You hoped she didn’t notice that, but she did.

And so you followed your typical Friday night game routine, going to her house, watching Mean Girls, finding yourselves tangled up together but never acknowledging it, and then turning on some other random show or movie before falling asleep. Still in each other's arms. Still, just best friends.

6 years ago

Today was the day, the last full day before your crush best friend was leaving you. Ok well not you per se, but she was leaving. And yes you were also going to leave and go even farther in a few weeks, but that’s beside the point. It still felt like she was leaving you and it just didn’t feel right. You couldn’t exactly put into words how or why you felt so badly about it, but you did. Maybe the fact that you had never been apart for longer than a week played a part in it. Sure, you were both gonna go off and hopefully live your dreams, but it just didn’t feel right to do that away from each other. However, she was going to Iowa and you were going to New York and there's nothing you could do to change that now. And you did genuinely think about going to Iowa instead, but New York was your dream, so when you got into culinary school there you decided to go. You knew you loved it and you knew that New York was a great place to start, not to get started on the fact that it could take you literally anywhere you wanted to go. That didn’t make the decision any less painful though.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” you whispered in Kate’s ear giving her a hug. You honestly don’t know why you’re saying it right now, it’s not like she's leaving right this second, but you still need to say it, and you’ll probably say it about 1,000 more times before you actually have to say goodbye in the morning after your final Friday night sleepover, even if it didn’t follow a game you guys have grown into the habit of doing this almost every Friday night. She squeezes you tighter if possible when she hears this, trying to burn that moment into her memory, knowing she loves you but it’s too late to do anything about it now, at least not anything serious. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you, to admit her feelings for you after years of friendship less than 24 hours before you guys go to different states for college. It would be cruel, and she told herself it would almost be more cruel if you felt the same way about her. She knew that you came to terms with being queer, at least enough to admit it to her and yourself, what she didn’t know is that a big part of that was you coming to terms with being in love with her. But still, it was too late and she had to let that be.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” Kate said with a big sigh before releasing you, muttering a quick “more than you could know,” under her breath, hoping you didn’t hear. Happy when you showed no indication of hearing the last part.

“But we still have a whole afternoon/night to do all of our favorite things together before I leave. And we can go get our favorite breakfast in the morning,” she said with a more upbeat tone, poking your sides slightly, trying to lighten your spirits too. Slightly succeeding when she saw you perk up a little, putting a small smile on her face.

“Okay, okay, so what do you say to popcorn, Mean Girls, and a bunch of candy?” you asked, slightly mimicking her accent. She replies with an eager nod. Grabbing your hand and pulling you to her room after making a pit stop for the snacks, failing to notice the blush that covered your cheeks. You simply follow her rushed pace, happy you decided to wear sweats and a tank top, as opposed to something like jeans to lounge around in.

By the time you were about halfway through the movie, you found yourself wrapped in her arms, like usual. But for some reason not knowing when you’ll see her again after this, and the cheesy high school coming-of-age movie in the background made you a little more confident. Not super confident to where you would outright tell Kate that you’re in love with her, but confident enough to try and hint at something, which is more than you’d ever been willing to do with anyone else. So that’s what you do. Especially after spending years denying your feelings, and almost a whole extra year hiding them.

“You know what sucks,” you start off looking up at her waiting for any kind of acknowledgment. She finally looks down at you with a light “Hmm?”

“I’m about to go to college and I haven’t even had my first kiss,” you say unable to stop your eyes from glancing down to her lips. This statement took her off guard, sure, you had never talked about anyone, guys or girls, but you’re you and she figured you had your first kiss and in your typical shy fashion, you just hadn't wanted to bring it up.

“What? No way!” she says laughing a little only realizing her mistake when she saw your face drop.

“No no no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t get how you of all people haven’t had your first kiss yet!” she exclaims “I mean you’re literally perfect, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re a great cook, I mean you're my favorite person in the world. I just don’t get how no one’s kissed you yet!” she finished off her little rant with a small huff.

“Well no one’s wanted to,” you mumble looking down a little bit, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.

“That’s not true,” she mumbles quieter now than she had been before, suddenly feeling almost as shy as you while taking you off guard. It was pretty obvious what she meant, no hidden meaning laced in with her words, unable to pick her gaze back up to your eyes once they dropped down to your lips.

“I mean would you?” you question with a little more confidence once you notice where she's looking. You can’t help but follow her lead and look down to her lips, before going back up to her eyes, even though she still wasn’t looking.

touch me baby, put your lips on mine

“It doesn’t have to be weird or anything, it's just you’re my best friend, and I’ve never kissed anyone, and you’re leaving tomorrow and I don’t want to go to college without at least having my first kiss,” you kind of spit out hoping you don’t sound pathetic or desperate, or make her want to kick you out.

“Would you want me to?” she questions back, already knowing your answer but just wanting to ask to know that you were sure.

“Yeah, I’d like that” You rush out in a kind of whisper to her nodding, so she nods back to you. You can both tell that you’re nervous, each for different reasons. All it takes for you to start leaning into each other is locking your eyes again. In that moment she looks like an angel, with the soft glow of the lamp making her hair look even more golden than usual, to the way she was looking at you, not to mention how you felt about the grip she had on you. You barely even had time to actually look at her before her lips crashed onto yours. And that’s exactly what it felt like in that moment, like waves crashing onto cliffs, a completely overwhelming feeling, yet still, it brought you a newfound sense of peace. She pulled you as close to her as possible, knowing that this may be the only time you get to do this, not wanting to be even an inch away from you. At this point you were basically straddling her while she was leaning up against her headboard, both wanting nothing more than to be together, knowing you couldn’t.

You had never kissed anyone before but thought to yourself that in that moment that if this is what it is like you never wanted to stop. Kate had kissed people before, and you knew that, but what you didn’t know was that none of those felt anything like with you. They couldn’t compare. Not by a long shot. If she didn’t know how much she loved you before, she definitely knew now. The only issue is that she knows this, it’s gonna make it even harder to leave you in the morning.

By the time you guys pull away breathless from a mixture of kissing, nerves, and giddiness, you can’t help but feel at peace, resting your foreheads against each other’s. Sure you knew that nothing could come of this, that nothing would come of this, at least not right now. But you were happy. Happy that you got to show her how much you love her in one small way, one new way. Happy that you got to know her, and happy that she felt the same way about you. Even if you guys didn’t necessarily talk about it, or say outright say it, you both knew that was always one of the best things about your friendship, you didn’t have to actually talk in order to communicate and get your point across, and even when you did need words you didn’t need many of them.

So when you guys make eye contact again you come to a silent agreement, you have that night, and the next morning to talk if you want. You know you love each other, but also that there's realistically nothing you can do for you to start a relationship at that moment and have it work out. Not when you were about to be nearly 1,000 miles apart. It wasn’t right to risk it. And you both know that you’re too important to each other to risk your friendship, especially when almost all of the circumstances are pointing to it not working out. So, you have that night, after that, you’re friends again, maybe not even best friends, and if it works out you can be together in the future when you can be closer. But for the time being this is for the best, this is safe.

April 2024 || Present Day

It had been years since you and Kate had last seen each other properly, there were brief passings when you were both in your hometown that resulted in short conversations, but you were both barely there, you less than her, and when you were your family made sure you never went longer than 20 minutes without them other than to let you sleep. You had stuck to being friends, not best friends, just friends. Never talking about that night, your last night together. Not wanting to risk it, not yet. Other than that, you guys have managed to text each other occasionally to check-in. Keeping each other updated on your lives, but not close. It was as if you had both come to the understanding that you should keep a certain level of distance so as not to ruin what you had. Knowing that if you talked more, you would’ve talked about what could have been more. And you just couldn’t risk it.

id love if you knew you were on my mind, constant like cicadas in the summertime

That’s not to say that you didn’t keep an eye on her and her basketball. You had been her #1 fan since day one, and even if you didn’t talk or see each other as much as you used to, you wouldn’t let that change. You still felt the exact same way when you thought about her, even if you tried not to. Even when you knew you shouldn’t. You just couldn’t stop thinking about her. While you obviously couldn’t go to all of her games anymore, you still watched every single one, even when you were at work during them you would try to either watch it on your phone or record it and watch it when you got home later. You even managed to take off work for both the Final Four and the Finals this year to watch her and her team, even if you didn’t make it in person, you still had to watch the games live. And once you heard that she had declared for the WNBA draft you had to get a ticket for that, it was perfect, it was in Brooklyn so you didn’t have to travel more than taking the subway. And this time you told yourself that you would talk to her, not go up to her at the draft but you would text her and let her know that you were gonna be there if she wanted to meet up after, or at any point while she was in town. You would make an effort to see her. You really didn’t know when the next time you’d get the chance to see her again would be, it’s been so long since the last time, partially due to schedule, partially due to nerves, and you were about to move across the country to Las Vegas for a new job. You figured it was now or never, and you really hoped you would get the chance to see her so you could get her out of your mind.

You knew you had to try. Try to talk to her, try to see her, try something. You couldn’t stand it anymore, constantly thinking about her, you needed closure, even if there wasn’t necessarily anything to get closure about. You still had to try. So even though you had grown up a lot in the past six years, you had learned to start a conversation instead of stuttering your way through when someone came up to you, gotten more friends, and most importantly gained confidence and figured out a pretty good idea of who you were. You were nowhere near as shy as you used to be, but still the mere idea of Kate brought back butterflies that made you feel like you were in high school again. Frankly, the feeling had to be classified as something stronger than butterflies. So obviously the idea of calling her went out the window for you, you figured she was so busy anyway that she probably wouldn't answer, and you told yourself that if she chose not to answer a text it would hurt less than not answering a call. And after a lot of thinking and rewriting, you finally sent her the text.

“Hey Kate, I heard you’re gonna be in town for the draft and I know you’re probably busy but I would love to see you. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been keeping up with your games, I’m so proud of you, still your #1 fan, and can’t wait to see where you go. I’m gonna be at the draft rooting for you, just like I have been every step of the way even when I couldn’t physically be there. So if you wanna meet up after the draft or at any point while you’re in town let me know.”

Once you hit send you waited, and waited, and waited. Once it hit six hours with no response you figured you weren’t going to get one. Now that you had sent it, you realized that it was more nerve-wracking to sit and wait for the possibility of a response than to try and figure out what to say and hit send. Every possible reaction she could have had to your text was running through your head, well not every one, just every bad one. You didn’t know what she was thinking, or how she thought anymore, and that was terrifying to you. The nerves were so bad that to anyone watching you probably looked like a mess, flushed cheeks, sweaty, a little hunched over, and very clearly looking nauseous. But you were fine, it was no big deal.

You lied to yourself, it still hurt that you didn’t get an answer, but still decided to go to the draft anyway. Even if she didn’t want to see you, you still wanted to support her, figuring it was a big event and the chance of you seeing each other let alone talking were slim to none. You could go and didn’t have to talk if she didn’t want to. Plus you didn’t want to waste your money after you already bought the ticket and more than anything you wanted to support her, she was your first friend, your best friend, so far your most important friend, and now she's about to be a professional basketball player. You had to be there to see it come full circle, after spending the better part of ten years being able to count the number of her games you hadn’t seen on one hand, and saying you were her #1 fan, you just couldn’t miss it. Not for you, and certainly not for her.

By the time you had actually gotten to the draft and it started you were so focused on listening for Kate or her name, you couldn’t focus on anything else. You couldn’t hear anything that wasn’t related to her. You were confident that she was going to get drafted, but there was still a “what if” sitting in the back of your mind knowing your heart would break for her if she didn’t, maybe more than hers. Then you heard it, “With the 18th pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, The Las Vegas Aces select Kate Martin, University of Iowa.” you were so focused on her getting on a team that you didn’t think of the city she might end up in. You wish you could hit rewind when you heard it, almost not believing it. She got drafted to the Las Vegas Aces, you would be in the same city for the first time in 6 years. There could be a chance of you guys actually happening. Of course, she still had to go through training camp and make the roster before she was officially on the team, but you have no doubt that that’s going to be the easy part compared to everything else that it took to get to that moment. Not to mention text you back. When you’re finally able to focus again, there have been a few more picks you decide to go on your phone and check Twitter to see what they are saying about the draft. What you didn't expect to see when you opened your phone, however, was a message from Kate.

🏀Kate 🏀

“Hey, sorry I didn’t see your message or get back to you earlier! I’m so happy that my #1 fan came to support me just like you have been all these years. It means the absolute world to me to know that you came here for me tonight because I wasn’t even sure I was gonna make it. I haven’t been on my phone like at all today, but I’d love if you’d come celebrate with me and my friends tonight? It only feels right that you’re there, you’ve been there for pretty much everything else already, you should be there to celebrate now too.”

When you read the text you could’ve sworn your stomach quite literally did flips, while a giddy feeling erupted through your body, even releasing a small, relieved, laugh. At this point, the last thing you were expecting was to get a response, at most expecting to go to a bar close to your apartment for a drink or two, if you were feeling frisky. But upon seeing her text, you decided “Why not?” and decided to respond.

“Yeah of course I’d love to celebrate with you and your friends!! You deserve it after all the hard work you put in to get here. Just send me the time and place and I’ll meet you there.”

You tried to keep your response short and sweet, not trying to read too much into what she said or trying to seem too eager. Although, you were quite excited to actually see her and have the opportunity to talk to her again. You figured it wasn’t guaranteed that you were even going to talk more than a simple greeting, let alone that she would want to talk about what happened the last time you spent any substantial amount of time together. Hell, you weren’t even sure you’d stay longer than half an hour. But before you could dwell on it too long, you got a response, with nothing more than an address and a time.

By the time you show up, which is 20 minutes late due to nerves alone, you are sure Kate had forgotten that she had even invited you. What you hadn’t expected was for everyone to automatically know who you were, greeting you excitedly. You thought at most one, maybe two people would vaguely know who you were, but you didn’t expect all of your friends to recognize you and know pretty much everything about you. Including things you were pretty sure you hadn’t told Kate when you would catch up.

But that’s exactly what happened, all of her teammates knew who you were, Jada, Gabbie, and Caitlin, even people she barely knew. Never in a million years did you think that she could possibly talk about you that much. You didn’t think there could possibly be that much for someone to talk about regarding you, let alone that anyone would want to, especially after 6 years of limited communication. Yet it warmed your heart, it made you happier than you had been in a long time, to know that she talked about you, that she cared about you enough to talk about you that much. Jada went as far as to say,

“We finally get to meet you after her nonstop talking about you for I don’t even know how long. We were starting to think Kate made you up,” before giving you a hug in greeting. You could tell from that alone that she was an absolute sweetheart.

new crush, high school love again

By the time you had been able to talk to Kate for any substantial amount of time, it was clear that you both had a few drinks. Neither one of you could help yourselves from embracing each other in a long overdue hug, slightly rocking as she lightly rubbed your back. You couldn’t help but feel like you belong there. You had always felt like you belonged when you were with Kate, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. Like you had wasted time not being there. You never wanted to leave her side again. You didn’t think you could stand it. At that moment, hugging each other again for the first time in you don’t know how long, you both felt like you were in high school again. You knew she still gave you butterflies, but in that moment you could have sworn you fell in love with her all over again.

“I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do it,” you whisper while pulling away from the all-too-long hug. Looking up at her, you were filled with an all-new type of butterfly, a bird maybe. Filled with a sense of joy knowing she was happy to see you, and a sense of contentment knowing that you were going to be in the same city again, for the first time in years. Knowing that you know each other, without really knowing each other. In a sense you know each other, you kept each other updated on the big things, relationships you were in when you talked, basic interests, but you didn’t know what really mattered. You didn’t know the little things, the day-to-day, the highs and the lows, and you missed that. You missed knowing the one thing that made her day unbearable, or the one thing that got her through the day. It was always you, to this day. But she wasn’t willing to tell you that yet. She loved you, and you her, and you both knew that, but you only knew that past tense.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she says into your ear sending a shiver down your spine. You had officially fallen even more in love with her than the last time you saw each other, and you barely talked yet. And just like no time had passed, able to see the change in your demeanor, she grabbed you by the hips before looking into your eyes.

“I’m serious y’know? I really wouldn’t be here without you. You made it all worth it,” she pauses, eyes briefly scanning the room. “Every time I felt like I couldn’t do it, you made sure to tell me that I could. You made it clear that you believed in me, but you weren’t ever gonna push me into something I didn’t want. Even when you weren’t there I still thought of you. Thought of what you would say, how you would make everything better. You got me here baby,” she finishes off. Her eyes found their way back to yours while she talked, the intensity of her gaze alone could melt you.

“Even though I wasn’t there I never missed a game. I watched every single one, even if it was just a recording. I'm still your #1 fan, and I can promise to never miss a game of yours in the WNBA now either. I’ll even be at all the home games,” you smile up at her looking to see if she caught onto your words. You can see her trying to figure out what you meant, her eyebrows scrunching up in confusion as she was thinking before a smile eventually broke out on her face.

“What? Are you moving to Vegas?” she asks, her volume growing with each word. She grabbed you by the shoulders before lightly shaking you in disbelief. As if trying to figure out whether or not this was really happening.

“Yeah, I got a job there and I’m moving at the beginning of May,” you say laughing at her clear excitement. To her it felt like she was about to burst, this is what you had been waiting for, this was a sign. It wasn’t planned and neither one of you had any idea it was going to happen, but you were going to be together again.

the rush of slumber party kissing

“I can’t believe it! Are you joking?” she asks looking down at you for any hint of a lie coming from you, but she found none, so she continued. “Like we’re actually going to live in the same city? This is amazing, I can’t believe it.” and then it slips out, she doesn’t mean to say it, but she does, “We could try. Like we could actually be together, for real-” By the time she realizes what she said she was looking at the floor and couldn’t bear to try and meet your gaze. After all, she basically just confessed that she was still in love with you after 6 years of barely seeing or talking to each other.

“Really? You’d want that?” you ask her, grabbing her face and lifting it to meet your eyes. You couldn’t believe she wanted you, after all this time she still wanted you. So you did something Kate never in a million years thought you would’ve done, you kissed her. She wasn’t sure where your confidence had come from whether it had been her basically admitting that she never moved on from you, or the drinks you had, or just simply you growing up and actually being more confident. But she couldn’t think about that now. Now she had you in her arms, for the first time in years. She had you in a way she thought she had missed out on because she waited. And in that moment she knew she wasn’t going to let you go ever again.

#kate martin x reader #kate martin fluff #kate martin #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #wbb #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa wbb #wnba draft #wnba #wnba basketball #lv aces #las vegas aces

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sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts · 11 hours

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𝕿𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘

screencaps and gifs: Pinterest

Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, BLOOD, Auctioning people, talks of BDSM, talks of virginity, talks of STD and STI tests, Dom and Sub dynamics, underage drinking (20), THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Summary: 20,000 dollars in student debt can lead to irrational decisions, like engaging in a questionable discussion when a friend who is knowledgeable about BDSM mentions an auction she's attending.

WC: 3.6K

A/n: the first of the new and improved version of my mister miller fic🫶🏻

Cold and heartless, Dr. Richards, your financial aid advisor, was a stern woman. You had expected that, considering the difficulty of having to inform hundreds of students about whether they could afford to continue their college careers or not. Last week, you discovered an unpaid dues notice from the school when you were looking through your financial reports. You had thought that all your dues were covered by a creative writing scholarship and financial aid.

Dr. Richards set your papers down and sighed, taking off her glasses and looking at you with an unexpected hint of pity. "Would you like me to be kind or blunt?" she asked, her voice steady but softened by the weight of bad news.

Your hand slapped to your forehead instinctively as dread pooled in your stomach. "Blunt," you muttered, bracing yourself.

"You're $20,000 in debt," she continued without missing a beat. "The total cost of your first year was $40,000. $20,000 was covered through financial aid and the scholarship, but if you wish to continue, the remaining $20,000 has to be paid by the start of next semester."

Shock and anger twisted inside you, making your vision blur. "Three months?!" you exclaimed, your voice rising with panic. "How am I supposed to afford that? I can barely afford anything as it is."

Dr. Richards leaned back, her eyes holding a mixture of sympathy and resignation. "I understand this is difficult, but the reality is, you need to find a solution quickly. Perhaps a private loan, more scholarships, or even a part-time job."

The office walls seemed to close in around you, the air thick with the weight of impossible choices. You stood up, feeling the urgency of time slipping through your fingers. "I'll figure something out," you said, your voice a brittle whisper of determination.

As you stepped out into the corridor, the gravity of your situation bore down on you. The campus buzzed with the usual life of students, oblivious to your internal turmoil. Every step you took felt heavier, each echoes a reminder of the $20,000 chain now dragging you down.

Night fell as you wandered the campus, lost in thought. The familiar paths seemed alien, shadows stretching long and menacing under the flickering streetlights. Once you made it back to your cramped dorm room, you opened the door and flopped onto your bed without even glancing at your roommate, Faith.

"Whoa, are you okay?" Faith asked, concern lacing her voice.

You lifted your head from the bed just enough to reply. "Remember the financial notice I got last week? Turns out I'm $20,000 in debt, and I didn't even know. Ugh, I should have read the papers more thoroughly." You sunk your head back into the thin, scratchy comforter on your bed, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on you.

Faith sat down on the edge of her bed, her eyes wide with concern. "That's... a lot. What are you going to do?"

You sighed deeply, the sound muffled by the comforter. "I have no idea. Three months to come up with twenty grand? It feels impossible."

Faith was silent for a moment, the tension in the room thickening. Finally, she spoke, her voice a mix of determination and desperation. "We'll figure something out. There has to be a way."

You nodded weakly, and Faith gently moved your shoulders to get you to sit up. She sat next to you and nudged you playfully. "Maybe a sugar daddy? You're a hot 20-year-old with a banging body," Faith joked, her mischievous grin breaking through the tension.

You managed a small smile, though part of you wondered if she was actually being serious. Faith was always open about her sex life, unlike you. You were a virgin, but the thought of a sugar daddy did sound appealing in your desperate situation.

"Yeah, right," you replied with a chuckle, though the idea lingered in your mind longer than it should have. Faith's laughter filled the room, a momentary reprieve from the oppressive worry.

Faith stood up abruptly before walking to her laptop and bringing it over to you. "A Twilight marathon isn't going to fix this," she cut you off, her tone serious, as she settled beside you.

"I know, I know... but," she hesitated, her expression grave, "well, I might have a solution." With a look of persuasion, she showed you her laptop screen, displaying a website named 'Twisted Temptations.'

"Your BDSM club?" you blurted out, taken aback.

"Okay, okay, listen," Faith hurried to explain, sensing your shock and disapproval. "We're doing this auction... You get 10% of whatever they bid for you."

You stood there, frozen in disbelief, waiting for Faith to continue. "How do you think I paid for college and..." she paused, choosing her words carefully, "most don't even want sex. You should at least look at the application."

You shook your head, doubt clouding your thoughts. "I don't know, Faith. This is so out of my comfort zone."

Faith moved closer, her expression softening with concern and determination. "Listen, I wouldn't suggest this if I didn't think it was safe. The club is strict about boundaries. You set the limits, and they are respected. Plus, I'll be there to guide you through everything."

You glanced at the laptop screen, the application form open and waiting. The prospect seemed overwhelming, yet there was a glimmer of hope—an unconventional solution to your daunting financial problems.

Faith sensed your hesitation and continued, "I know it's a big step, but think about the benefits. You need the money, and this way, you control what happens. You set your limits and preferences, and everything is mutually agreed upon with your partner. Trust me, you'll be safe."

You took a deep breath, considering her words. "But what if something goes wrong?"

Faith smiled reassuringly. "It won't. The club has strict rules and procedures to protect everyone involved. I'll help you with everything—filling out the application, setting your boundaries, and making sure you're comfortable. You won't be alone in this."

The weight of your financial troubles pressed down on you, and Faith's unwavering support felt like a lifeline. You sighed and sank onto the bed next to her. "Alright, I'll do it, but you have to help me. I don't want something to go wrong."

Faith's eyes lit up with excitement. "It won't," she assured you confidently. "Let's get started." She quickly filled in your name, age, and other essential details, then looked at you with a reassuring smile. "Okay, now we need to talk about your preferences and limits. This is really important."

You nodded, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. "What kind of preferences?"

Faith glanced at the screen, scrolling down to the next section. "Let's start with the basics. Are there any absolute no-go areas for you? Things you absolutely won't do?"

You bit your lip, feeling a flutter of nerves. "Well, I'm a virgin, but I'm ready to...you know, not be. I just don't want to do anything I'm not comfortable with."

Faith nodded, her expression serious but supportive. "That's totally okay. You can specify that you're new and what your limits are. Many people in the club respect that and will help you explore at your own pace."

She typed as she spoke, checking off boxes and filling in fields. "What about things like light bondage, sensory play, or role-playing? Have you ever thought about those?"

You blushed slightly, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. "I've never tried any of it, but I guess I could be open to light stuff. Nothing too intense to start."

Faith smiled encouragingly. "Perfect. We'll start with light bondage and sensory play. You can always update your preferences later as you get more comfortable."

She continued filling out the form, asking about your comfort levels with different activities, safe words, and any medical conditions or allergies. You answered as best as you could, relying on Faith's guidance and the snippets of information she'd shared with you over the years.

"Remember," Faith added, "most of what you like and don't like is decided mutually between the dom and sub. Communication is key. You'll discuss your limits and preferences with your partner beforehand, and you can always say no if something doesn't feel right."

Faith noted your availability and reviewed the application one last time. "Alright, I think we're all set. Ready to submit?"

You took a deep breath, nerves, and excitement swirling within you. "Ready."

Faith clicked the submit button, and the screen flashed a confirmation message. She turned to you with a grin. "Welcome to Twisted Temptations. You're going to be great."

As you sat there, a mix of relief and apprehension settling over you, Faith squeezed your hand. "Remember, you're in control. This is about exploring your boundaries and discovering what you're comfortable with. And I'll be here every step of the way."

You nodded, and Faith smiled. “The auction will be held next week. You’ll need to get an STD and STI test done, and you desperately need to get something sexy.”

You gasped at Faith. “I own sexy clothes?”

Faith giggled and walked over to the closet. "Well, maybe not yet, but that's what I'm here for."

She flung open the closet doors and began rifling through your clothes. After a moment, she pulled out a baggy hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, holding them up with a look of mock horror. “Unless you plan on seducing someone with the allure of ‘Netflix and no chill,’ we need to do some shopping.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay, point taken. But where am I supposed to find something sexy?”

Faith’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Leave that to me. We’ll hit up the mall tomorrow, and by the time we’re done, you’ll have an outfit that’ll make jaws drop.”

You felt a mixture of excitement and dread. “Fine, but no leather. And nothing with feathers. Or sequins. Or—”

“Relax,” Faith interrupted, still laughing. “I know just the thing. You’ll be sexy, not sparkly.”

As Faith closed the closet doors with a flourish, she turned back to you, her expression turning serious. “But seriously, the tests are important. We need to make sure you’re safe and everything is in order.”

You nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in again. “I’ll make an appointment first thing tomorrow.”

Faith grinned and flopped down on the bed beside you. “Great. Now, let’s watch a terrible rom-com to celebrate your big decision. It’ll be our last bit of normalcy before you become a sex goddess.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile.

Faith and you decided to Uber to the auction. The city lights blurred past the window as you fidgeted with the hem of your newly purchased dress. Faith noticed your nerves and squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“Alright,” she said, her tone both calming and excited, “let me walk you through what’s going to happen tonight.”

You nodded, trying to focus on her words instead of the churning anxiety in your stomach.

“When we arrive at the venue, we'll check in at the front desk. They'll hand you your papers and auction number,” Faith explained. “Then, we can mingle and meet some of the other participants. It's like a real auction party, so don't be shy about striking up conversations.”

You took a deep breath, feeling slightly reassured. “And when does the bidding start?”

Faith grinned. “Bidding starts at 10 PM sharp. That's when the real excitement begins.

As the Uber came to a stop outside the venue, I looked out the window at the unremarkable building that awaited me. Faith led the way, exuding confidence as she stepped onto the sidewalk.

Stepping into the venue, anticipation swirled around me like a gentle breeze, mingling with the soft melodies of background music. The interior whispered of understated elegance, with dim lighting casting enchanting shadows across the polished floors and plush furnishings. Faith guided you towards the check-in desk, where attendants bustled about with papers and pins. You exchanged a nervous glance, excitement bubbling beneath the surface as you approached the desk.

“Welcome,” greeted the attendant with a warm smile, “may I have your names, please?”

You and Faith exchanged introductions before the attendant handed you each a set of papers and pins to attach to your dresses. With a playful grin, Faith nudged you and held up her pin, wiggling it teasingly.

“Alright, partner in crime,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “let’s get these on and make sure we’re looking sharp for the auction.”

You chuckled, feeling a surge of affection for your friend as you both leaned in to help each other attach the pins to your dresses.

With your pins securely fastened, you and Faith made your way toward the main ballroom. The air seemed to buzz with an undercurrent of excitement and anticipation. As you approached the entrance, the grandeur of the room came into view.

The ballroom was a striking blend of opulence and decadence. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the space, illuminating velvet drapes in deep, sensual hues that lined the walls. The polished marble floors reflected the ambient light, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. Guests mingled in clusters, their laughter and hushed conversations weaving a tapestry of sound that filled the room.

At one end of the ballroom stood a grand stage, draped in rich, crimson fabric and adorned with luxurious golden trim. The stage was set for the auction, with a sleek podium at the center and rows of plush chairs arranged in front, ready for the evening’s main event.

As you stepped further inside, the scene grew more intense. The guests were an eclectic mix, their attire ranging from sophisticated evening wear to daring, barely-there outfits that left little to the imagination. Leather, lace, and latex dominated the fashion choices, with some attendees adorned in intricate harnesses and collars, their outfits hinting at the BDSM theme of the event.

Faith squeezed your hand one last time before she was swept away by a familiar face, her confident stride never faltering. You stood there for a moment, feeling a sudden pang of anxiety as the crowd seemed to close in around you. The noise, the lights, the sheer number of people—it was all too much at once.

Your heart raced as you tried to navigate through the sea of faces, each one strange and intimidating. The grandeur of the ballroom that had seemed so captivating just moments ago now felt overwhelming. You took a deep breath, attempting to steady yourself, but the sensation of being out of your depth only intensified.

The guests were like nothing you had ever seen before. A man in an immaculate tuxedo strolled by, a jeweled mask obscuring his eyes, while a woman in a full-body latex suit and stiletto heels sauntered past, her movements deliberate and commanding. A couple nearby caught your eye: the woman wore a sheer, flowing gown, her partner trailing behind her on a leash, wearing nothing but leather shorts and a collar.

In one corner, a group of people had gathered around a figure suspended in a rope harness, their intricate knots both artistic and functional. Soft moans and murmurs of appreciation floated through the air as the person twisted slowly, lost in the sensations the ropes provided. Another attendee, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, held a riding crop, playfully tapping it against their thigh as they chatted with a scantily clad submissive whose eyes never left the ground.

Guests lounged on plush sofas, some openly engaging in power play dynamics. A woman in a sleek corset held a leash attached to a submissive kneeling beside her, while another couple whispered intimately, their hands exploring each other's bodies with practiced ease. The atmosphere was charged with an erotic energy, a palpable sense of anticipation for what the night would bring.

As you continued to weave through the crowd, searching for a familiar face or a quiet corner, the overwhelming nature of the evening began to settle heavily on your shoulders. The mix of luxury and raw sexuality, the boldness of the guests, and the anticipation of what was to come all blended into a dizzying mix that left you feeling adrift.

In that moment, you longed for Faith's reassuring presence, her confident guidance. But she was somewhere amidst the throng, leaving you to navigate this new and intimidating world on your own. You felt a prickling sense of vulnerability, the realization that you were truly stepping into uncharted territory sinking in as you tried to steady your breath and find your footing in the extravagant chaos surrounding you.

So, like every college student in a social bind, you made a beeline for the bar. "Shit," you muttered, realizing you had left both your fake and real ID back in the dorm. Trying to muster some confidence, you approached the bar, hoping your outfit might be convincing enough. You sidled up next to a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed impeccably in a well-tailored suit. You could catch the faint scent of pine and campfire from his cologne.

Putting on your best flirty face, you addressed the bartender. He was the complete opposite of the man beside you—average height, slightly taller than you, skinny, tattooed, and wearing an ill-fitting button-up uniform top. His head was shaved clean. "One shot of Tito's, please," you said, playing with your hair in an attempt to seem older and more sophisticated.

The bartender chuckled. "ID, please?"

You leaned forward, arms together to emphasize your cleavage. "ID, really?" you said, trying to be as seductive as possible.

The bartender looked tempted but quickly shook his head. "No ID, no alcohol," he said firmly, turning away.

You groaned in frustration, which caught the attention of the man next to you. He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He was older, that was clear, but he looked good. His stubble was neatly trimmed, his curly hair slicked back in a way that seemed both effortless and intentional, and his eyes were large and expressive.

"So, no ID?" he asked, his voice warm and slightly amused.

You smiled back. "No, but a girl can try."

He set down his glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light. "Well, how old are you then?"

"Twenty," you admitted, locking eyes with him.

Before you could continue the conversation, Faith appeared, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the bar. "What were you doing talking to Joel Miller?" she asked, her voice a mix of shock and concern.

You glanced back, watching Joel as he turned back to his drink. "Just chatting. Why?"

Faith handed you a pamphlet and opened it to a specific page. "Page four," she instructed.

As you skimmed the page, she continued, "Joel is... intense. He's someone to shy away from until you're more experienced. Trust me on this."

Your eyes widened as you read the details. "Intense" was an understatement. "So, who's the safe bet?" you asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Faith's face softened. "His brother, Tommy. He's more laid-back and a better choice for someone starting. You'll find him much easier to talk to."

You sighed, glancing back toward the bar. "Guess I dodged a bullet, huh?"

Faith smiled. "Yeah, you did. Now, let's find Tommy and get you introduced. He's around here somewhere."

Joel suddenly appeared as you and Faith navigated through the crowd, stopping you both dead in your tracks. "Tito's," he said, handing you a glass with a wry smile. He glanced at the number pinned to your dress before walking away, leaving you stunned.

"What was that about?" Faith immediately questioned, her eyes wide with surprise.

Before you could respond, a voice boomed from the auction podium. "May all the products please make their way backstage."

Faith turned to you, her expression shifting from curiosity to urgency. "We'll talk about this later. Right now, we need to get backstage."

Your heart pounded as you nodded, clutching the glass of Tito's Joel had given you. You downed it in one gulp, hoping it would calm your nerves, then handed the empty glass back to Faith. She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "You'll be fine. Just remember what we talked about. You're in control."

With a deep breath, you joined the other "products" making their way to the designated area. The backstage was a flurry of activity, with organizers checking names and numbers, and participants adjusting their outfits one last time. The air was thick with anticipation and a hint of perfume mingled with the scent of leather.

An organizer approached you, checking your number against his list. "You're number 3, correct?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely audible over the din of conversation and last-minute preparations.

"Great. Just wait here until you're called," he instructed, pointing to a row of chairs along the wall.

You sat down, your mind racing. Faith's words echoed in your head: "You're in control. You decide your limits." The reality of what you were about to do began to sink in, but you steeled yourself, determined to see it through.

As you waited, you couldn't help but think about Joel. His unexpected gesture with the Tito's, the way he had looked at you—something about him intrigued and unnerved you. But Faith's warning was clear: he was intense, someone to be cautious around. Your thoughts were interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

"Number 3, you're up next," the organizer said.

You stood up, smoothed out your dress, and took a deep breath. As you stepped towards the stage, the curtain drew back slightly, giving you a tantalizing glimpse of the auction room. The ambient lighting cast a soft glow, illuminating the expectant faces of the bidders, their anticipation palpable in the air.

Stepping into the spotlight, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. The auctioneer's voice echoed in the room, commanding attention as he announced, "And now, presenting number 3, starting bid at $500."

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writingquestionsanswered · 2 days

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i'm currently trying to write a story with second chance trope. the story is about a friend group since childhood of 2 girls and 4 boys. the female mc and the male mc were developing feelings for each other, then the male mc left the country without telling anyone. after 3 years of no contact, he comes back. naturally, the female mc has a lot of pent up resentment towards him but she still has romantic feelings for him.

so, any tips on writing a second chance romance?

Second Chance Romance

There are five really important keys to writing a good second chance romance:

1 - Create a Sense of What Was - Even if the story starts after that first relationship (or almost relationship) ended, it's important to give the reader a sense of what that relationship was like. What drew them to one another initially? What were their interactions like? What strengthened their bond? You can paint this picture using a combination of flashbacks, memories recalled in exposition, memories recalled in dialogue, having the character look at photos or video, comparing present experiences with past ones, or even through snippets in dreams.

2 - Be Clear About What Went Wrong - The reader can't root for a second chance if they don't understand what went wrong the first time around. Specific to your story, you'll need to address not only why this character suddenly left the country without telling anyone and without contact, but how they rationalized the negative impact it would have on this person they were beginning to develop a relationship with.

3 - Be Clear About What Went Right - Sometimes relationships fail, even if their foundations are good, but that second go round isn't plausible unless there was something worth going back to. So, not only is it important to be clear about what was good about the relationship when you illustrate it in retrospect, you'll also have to show us those things are still there--or have the potential to be.

4 - Illustrate What Changed - The relationship failed for a reason. Whether there was hurt involved, poor timing, wanting different things, or some other obstacle to progress. So, you can't give this couple a plausible shot at a second chance unless you show us how the obstacles were removed or overcome. In the case of your story specifically, not only will you need to address why the character left in the first place, but why they chose to come home, and how they make amends for disappearing without notice or contact.

5 - Rebuild Relationship Upon Old and New - I like to think of it like this: imagine the concrete slab foundation of a house. This is what the couple built together in round one. But when they parted, the foundation was damaged in places (the amount of damage obviously depends on what caused the split.) When they meet up again, the foundation is still there, it's just got the old damaged parts and a lot of erosion from time and weathering. But it's there. So as they work through what went wrong and patch up their friendship, they patch up the damage from their split. Then, as they get to know each other again and the friendship reestablishes itself, the foundation gets cleaned back up and brought back up to pristine. And from there, they can build the walls of their healthy relationship.

Happy writing!

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lokiondisneyplus · 1 day

Text

Sophia Di Marto [sic] knows why the Marvel Studios breakout series “Loki” was so successful creatively. It was partially due to the casting. Much of it was in the writing and the direction, but mostly, it was about the dynamic between the title character, played by Tom Hiddleston, and Loki’s multiverse doppelganger, Sylvie, portrayed by Di Marto herself.

“Some of it’s in the writing, some of it’s in what Tom does, a little bit of it’s what I do, but that it’s how these two characters rub each other up the wrong way,” Di Marto says. “They’re so similar but so different. And I think that fine line between the two is what’s really entertaining to watch because they know exactly how to wind each other up. Sylvie knows exactly how to wind Loki up and audiences love watching Loki being wound up. So, it’s just really entertaining and that’s part of the chemistry because they sort of hate each other, but love each other and will always be connected now. So it is this really specific dynamic, which is a massive gift to be able to play with.”

Over the course of our conversation centered on season two, Di Marto reflects on whether Sylvie found peace at the end of season two, how the stunt choreography keeps her in shape, what new directors Justin Benson & Aaron Moorhead brought to the series, and much, much more.

____

The Playlist: First of all, I have to tell you, that even though it aired last fall, “Loki “is still one of my favorite programs from the past 12 months. I just thought it was so well done.

Sophia Di Martino: Thank you.

When you found out you were coming back for season two, did you have an idea already of where Sylvie’s arc was going to go?

No, I had absolutely no idea until I read the script and then I had to read the script like three times because it was quite confusing.

Did Eric Martin, who was the head writer, sort of sit you down and give you a heads up, this is where we’re going, this is how we see her?

I’m trying to remember exactly what happened. If anyone sat me down, I think Tom might have given me because an executive producer as well, so he’s more involved in the writing and all the behind-the-scenes stuff. I think he may have given me a little headline sort of idea of what the second series was about, but I didn’t really know what would happen until I read the scripts. And then as we’re shooting, it’s changing all the time as well. The main structure is the same, but it’s really a moving beast and a big collaboration. So we’re rewriting it all as we go with Eric.

After reading the initial scripts, did you at least think to yourself, “O.K., we’re going to get to a point at the end of the season where Sylvie is at least at peace?” Or do you think part of her is still out for some sort of revenge”

I dunno if she’s at peace at the end of series two. I don’t think she goes back to Oklahoma. I don’t think she tries to get that peaceful human life again. I think she’s on another adventure, but I dunno. I feel like she just keeps casting an eye over what’s happening with Loki and with Sylvie. I don’t think she’s ever going to be truly at peace. I think she’s a sort of natural-born fighter. I think she’s only ever truly herself when she’s fighting for something. So she’s perhaps gone to look for the next fight.

Do you think that’s the big difference between her and her alternate timeline version of Loki played by Tom? That’s the inherent difference because Loki doesn’t seem to always want to fight.

I don’t think he wants to fight, but he has something within him that’s unfinished and he’s always searching for his glorious purpose. And I think they’re both doing that in slightly different ways.

And I know every member of the media that you’ve spoken to has asked you this in some way, but have you been given any tea about whether Sylvie will continue looking for her glorious purpose down the road?

I have no idea. They’ve told me nothing.

Do you like that in a way?

Yeah, I mean, because if you can just get on with your life until you get a phone call that says you have to be somewhere at a certain point, do something. Yeah, it’s an exciting part of it.

Was there any scene or moment in particular where you were like, “O.K., this is a moment that I’m going to have to dig deep into. This is a tougher scene than maybe I might’ve expected this day”?

The scene that was most interesting to play was that moment in McDonald’s when Loki and Sylvie meet again for the first time. I don’t think there were hardly any lines in that scene. Maybe she says, “Are you going to order something or not?” And it is very sparse the dialogue, but there’s so much unsaid, there’s so much acting going on and they look at each other for the first time. And that was really, really cool to get to play that. It’s bumping into your ex for the first time.

And I’m guessing there is not a lot of rehearsal time correct? It was mostly working it out on the scene on set.

Oh yeah. Yeah. The only rehearsals that we got were some choreo or some fight stuff. Yeah, we didn’t get much rehearsing for the actual dialogue scenes, but I like it that way.

Do you feel like there’s more spontaneity?

For me? Yeah. I like to rely on my intuition and my spontaneity.

Well, I always heard that when you put good actors together should get good results. But this cast in particular had such great chemistry. Even in season one. Do you think that that was just luck? Is it just the talent of the actors?

I think it’s also the characterization. Some of it’s in the writing, some of it’s in what Tom does, a little bit of it’s in what I do, but that it’s how these two characters rub each other up the wrong way. They’re so similar but so different. And I think that fine line between the two is what’s really entertaining to watch because they know exactly how to wind each other up. Sylvie knows exactly how to wind Loki up and audiences love watching Loki being wound up. So, it’s just really entertaining and that’s part of the chemistry because they sort of hate each other, but love each other and will always be connected now. So it is this really specific dynamic, which is a massive gift to be able to play with.

I know you had stunt doubles for a lot of it, but you did do a lot of your own action choreography, correct?

Yeah, yeah. We learn it all and then they sort of swap it and change it when they need to make it look better.

Was it fun? Is that stressful as an actor to have to do that stuff compared to just regular scenes?

I love it. It was a really great opportunity for me. I mean, I was like three months postpartum on the first [season]. It was a great opportunity for me to get fit. I don’t go to the gym. I was the most unfit person when I started, so it really kicked my ass into gear. But I really enjoyed it. And it’s watching the finished product, it just makes you feel like an absolute badass, even though it’s not me. Some of it is not me. It feels great to be a part of it, and it really helps me get into character as well as Sylvie because she’s such a brawler. She loves fighting so much. I’ve realized that I do too. And I’ve carried on. I box a couple of times a week, and I really enjoy the feeling of being able to channel my aggression somewhere. And as a woman, I think it’s quite rare to be able to be given the opportunity to be able to be aggressive and I love it.

At least for season two, do you recall one sequence or set piece that was tougher than any of the others?

There was two of the fighting stuff. I’m trying to remember. The stuff on the Ferris wheel was quite tricky because the space was quite small and there were wires. We were doing wire work, so that was tricky. And a lot of it gets changed last minute. So, you learn the sequence and then they figure out how they’re going to shoot it, and then they realized you can’t do the sequence anymore, so you have to do a different sequence. And so a lot of it is learning choreo on the fly and changing it up and doing something different that works for the camera. So, that was challenging. And I remember I had to throw the TVA guidebook and I couldn’t get it in the right place. Things like that, take ages to try and do. In the first series, there’s a sequence where a knife lands right next to my face, and one of Loki’s daggers stands right next to my face. Little things like that take hours.

youtube

In the final episode, you have a great moment when Loki continues to go back to sort of the workroom area where you guys all keep getting killed again and again. And Sylvie sort of imparts on him one last time about what he needs to do. Do you remember that scene that I’m talking about?

Is it in Key’s workroom or the Key Lime Pie?

It’s the last time that we see that version of Sylvie. The spaghetti is coming to sort of wipe her away. It’s before he goes back and realizes that he has to go into the…

Oh, yeah.

I don’t know if you remember that scene, but it seems like such a rich moment for Sylvie. I was wondering, did those moments at least sit with you at all about how emotional Sylvie’s connection had become with Loki?

Yeah, definitely. And I think she’s the spokesperson in a way for his friendship group. It becomes a real ensemble by the end of series two. It’s not just Sylvie. He’s made quite a few friends and they’ve become almost like a little bit of a team and he’s watching each one of them disappear. And I think Sylvie’s the last one to be turned into spaghetti. And that’s the moment where he realizes he needs to figure out how to control this time slipping so he can change what’s happening because otherwise, he’s going to lose everyone.

The drop-off between season one and season two from Kate Heron to Justin Benson & Aaron Moorhead was almost non-existent. They certainly have their own directorial style, but the quality is just so good. Can you talk about what they’re like to work with as directors on set and what you thought they brought to the series?

They are so relaxed at times. I was like, “Why are you so relaxed? It’s making me feel nervous. Why are you so confidently cool and calm?” They just know exactly what they want and what they’re going to do. And they have their own style and they’ve done a bunch of indie films, so they’ve done their time and know how to do it, and they know how to work with each other so well. I dunno if it’s about something to do with being two of them so they can share their stress or something just so chilled out and so open and collaborative and funny and just so easy.

I know you recently wrapped “The Radleys” with Damian Lewis. It’s a horror vampire comedy, right? Can you talk about it at all?

Honestly, I dunno when it’s going to be released, but it’s a vampire movie about a family of vampires trying to live in suburbia and not drink blood.

And it’s funny. It’s hopefully funny.

Hopefully. Yeah.

#sophia di martino #sylvie #loki season 2 #Youtube

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the-starlight-project · 3 days

Note

So I got a list of theories, I am sorry if this is too long to answer, but I had to share my thoughts with you guys.

Shamdow is probably the least aware of everything going on. He seems genuinely confused and concerned about Sonic/Nicky, even when Sonic/Nicky is "new."

Shillver (thanks to whoever came up with this name) knows the most. After all, why would you randomly be on a rooftop standing in the rain and hiding behind a door you got smacked with? Surprised there was no audible sound of a man swearing upon being smacked by a METAL DOOR.

Both of Tails actors are siblings. It was common for some characters to be played by siblings due to similarities with them at young ages. Though based on the photo and the fact these follow the games, these two most likely acted in the Sonic Generations season of this show.

Knuckle's actor is probably the one who constantly needs to keep people on track, and he is probably the one who has the angry writing on that board. I also feel like he is the one who actually takes care of Cheese since chaos are associated with the Master Emerald. It would make sense for Knuckle's actor to still have a slight connection to it, even if he doesn't in real life.

Cassy is for sure Rouge. Shadow and Rouge were both introduced in the same game, so it would make sense for both to be introduced the same season. I am going to guess she is also Shamdow's roommate, mainly because it seems like the two would live together before they get into acting.

Cream's actor is probably the least seen, but most liked of the cast. She definitely seems like she embodies Cream herself, whether she is acting or not.

Blaze's actor might know part of what is going on, but not fully. Blaze and Silver do have a somewhat close relation in the game they appeared in, and afterwards it was more of Deja Vu due to weird Sonic Game timeline stuff, so Blaze's actor may know something because of Shillver.

Amy's actor has a scar on her cheeks. I have a feeling she accidentally got it on set, since her character does weird a hammer, and I am sure some balance issues may happen time to time, resulting in a few falls.

Eggman's actor is probably the sweetest man alive, or the most evil man you'll ever meet. Either way, he appeared in the first few pages and is for sure going to be seen later.

Sonic/Nicky isn't "new" as the studio suggests, they just use the "new" story to make everyone believe he was replaced. I am going to guess that if Sonic/Nicky has been there the entire time since the shows creation, the studio had some really clever ways to hide stuff. Especially if Sonic/Nicky is still a teenager after 30+ years.

Lastly, if Sonic Generations is a season, then who was the Classic Sonic actor? Does Sonic/Nicky have any siblings and doesn't know/realize it, or is it just some random blue hedgehog actor that the studio randomly found and knew would make for a believeable younger Sonic?

I gotta say, we're both so sad you're anonymous right now - this was an awesome string of theories and we wanted to give you props!

I can't answer all of them in depth, as you probably guessed, but I'll go ahead and confirm what I can right now!

Shamdow is definitely the least aware, and Shillver (as of right now) is the most aware of the characters that have been introduced.

I can't even make a snarky comment on this or anything, you just hit ALL of the Tails portion of this theory on the head. They are indeed siblings, and both did participate in the Generations season!

Knuckles' actor was definitely the one writing on the board, but I can't tell you anything else about him for now... except for the fact that he doesn't take care of Cheese LMAO

Cassy is definitely Rouge. They aren't roommates, but they were technically new friends when they were introduced. They met during the casting for SA2.

Cream is seen the least for a reason.

Blaze's actor doesn't really know what's going on, but I'd say they're suspicious. Also, they're not too close with Shillver, but they're friends enough.

All of the section about Amy's actor is correct! She did get that little scar on set, during the filming of Sonic CD! I'm sure you can guess where.

Eggman's actor(s) is definitely ... a man. He's nice! He's nice.

The studio definitely has some really clever (and morally dubious) ways of hiding things. There have been several occasions where more extreme measures were needed, though.

Classic Sonic definitely has an actor! He's his own entity, has his own life (and is connected to Amy's actor in his own ways). They aren't siblings or anything (though that's not to say that Sonic doesn't have any).

#starlight au #project starlight #starlight ask tag!#mw replies #sb replies

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nymph-ette111 · 21 hours

Note

Hello again! Its me the one who requested the proxies with a forest ranger S/o

I sawed your post and kinda went 😮 when I found out forest rangers and fire looksouts aren’t the same thing too ngl. I originally got the idea when I watched/played ‘Fears to fathom: Ironbark lookout’. I actually looked it up and I guess the correct term would be “Park ranger” (I still don’t know bro I could be wrong) but I originally got the idea from the fears to fathom so I guess you could kinda base it off that (minus the cult) but I just thought it would be a cool idea. Like for example on the fire watch aspect, Tim is chronic Smoker and Toby is canonically a pyromaniac (idk about brain in this situation) so like Tim could be smoking or toby could be setting something on fire and you would be side eyeing tf out of them. OR, You could just be trying to peacefully sleep in your watch tower (assuming there is one) and One of them would be knocking at your damn door/window in the dead ass of the night and your just there either terrified, confused, or annoyed (its up to your interpretation).

But anyway sorry for the ramble and confusion, As always I appreciate you and hope you have a wonderful day (remember to drink water) buh/bye now <3

(♡) Authors note; in my old author's note I literally said it was inspired byironbark lookout but then I hesitated bcs I thought it wasn't what you're looking for. good thing I didn't delete the previous work :3 SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT I DIDN'T HAVE ANY MOTIVATION TO WRITE ANYTHING :(

HOODIE;

-before the relationship between you two, he knew about your job as a park ranger/ fire lookout.

-actually, he knew about everything. From the tasks you usually handle to your working schedule.

-the reason he didn't kill you off was because part of your job is keeping campers away from the unregistered camp grounds which was quite convenient on his part. (Perhaps convenient for all of them)

-that way he wouldn't risk getting caught on the way/back from a mission, even though he usually drives to his destinations with a beaten up old truck. He knows how nosey some people are and would definitely pull a curiosity move and possibly find his resort.

-but he also couldn't let you run around freely around the forest either, he just kept an eye on you for a while in case you were too close to finding out about his...'business'

-i can see him stalking you slowly seeping into his routine. could be out of curiosity or genuine interest.

-during your relationship, he'd drop by from time to time in the watch tower even though it's against the rules. He'll be careful, he says.

-he's still an asshole very much like his friends, would probably disregard his mudded hiking boots by the entrance and just throw himself on your bed. Not caring if whatever substance he was covered in (blood) stains your bedsheets or something.

-to make up for it he cooks you food with whatever ingredients you have to offer :3 I like to think he's a good cook, staying out in the forest for long periods of time gained him that skill.

-if he isn't too busy, you two would watch the scenery together :) a little nice bonding moment.

MASKY;

-sigh... This motherfucker would NOT be good company for you at all.

-you could be sleeping peacefully just to wake up and find him standing at the foot of your bed just...staring.

-he's making sure they don't get you lol

-who the fuck is "they" (...does anyone get the reference)

-steals any lighters he finds in the shack just to light up his cigarettes.

-yes, when he puts out his cigarettes he just throws them on the ground. not caring if it's against the rules to litter the forest. at this point they're all trying to get you in trouble whether it's intentionally or not.

-unlike Toby, he doesn't help around that much with your tasks.

-if you manage to convince him to bring up some firewood from the shack so you can light up the fire, just praise him. it's enough to boost his already humongous ego and he might consider helping every now and then just so you could call him your strong, manly boyfrie–

TOBY;

-This stupid fucker would send you disturbing messages on his old ass flip phone at night whenever you still have the planks up.

-some shit like 'i c yu :-)'

-... yeah he never likes typing his sentences properly because he still uses those number keyboards (I don't know what they're called)

-it gives you a heart attack everytime untill you look out the window and see that it's Toby being a weirdo again.

-like anon said, he always sets random stuff on fire which always gets him in trouble, you end up reminding him that you aren't the only fire lookout in the forest and that another worker will report it.

-he doesn't listen.

-he definitely scares off any campers in areas they aren't supposed to be. Hey, at least he isn't completely useless!

-the opposite of Brian/Hoodie, instead of cooking for you he absolutely ravishes anything you have in the fridge.

-no, he isn't sorry.

-other than the things that he does to piss you off he actually does help from time to time like helping you fill in the service reporting— using the anemometer, checking the thermometer...etc

-he thinks the devices look neat :)

#♡⁠˖⁠꒰nymphette writes #divider by pommecita #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #headcanon #x reader #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby #hoodie x reader #mh hoodie #hoodie marble hornets #masky x reader #mh masky #masky marble hornets #ticci toby creepypasta #creepypasta masky #hoodie

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maybege · 1 day

Text

What If - Part 4

Summary: Mandalore approached and you cannot help but feel like something is about to go terribly wrong.

Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 6.2k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), (semi-)public sex, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, knotting, cockwarming, dirty talk, praise kink, Angst with a capital A, fluffy fluf

As we say in German “Was lange wärht, wird endlich gut” which is what I am using as my excuse for why this took so long. The truth is: depression is a bitch, real life is a bitch and creativity and time for writing are like the same side of two magnets that do not want to even go near each other. Anyway, we made it!!!

There are a few people I gotta thank for this. First and foremost the iconic, the brilliant @mostly-megan who not only suffers through all the random AU ideas I have (and there are a LOT of them) but also brainstorms with me. The Ragnar Scene and also a very (very!) lovely scene towards the end of this part would not exist without her and for that, I am very grateful. Then, of course, the ever-present, ever-lurking genius that is the Boba Tea Anon who is in the Paz trenches right there with me and encourages me in everything I do (even if it is just a – I promise one day I will do a Lord Huron Paz piece!). Also, a very special shout out to Neyo (@galacticgraffiti) who gave the Mando kids their names, suffers through The Horn Knee with me and is always there to cheer me on. And then, of course, all you Paz girlies (gn) who make me feel like a sane person while I ramble about a faceless man who appeared for a total of 23 minutes (if that) and is – canonically – dead anyway. You make sharing my writing worthwhile in the first place and I will be forever grateful for getting to share my writing with you.

And with that – on to the last part (and the new canon for me lol). Please let me know what you thought in a comment or a reblog!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

There was a certain impatience to him you had not expected at the last meal. When the announcement came that you were approaching Mandalore, Paz – who had spent the dinner between you and Ragnar – had pulled you into his lap, his arms like iron around your body. Ragnar had wandered off to the front with all the other foundlings, expectantly looking up at the clan leaders.

You had turned your face into Paz’s neck, trying to get his scent on you. You could not believe how you had only known this man for a few days – a week, at most! – and yet his scent was the only thing that seemed to calm you down. And it was no different for him.

The alpha’s hand immediately found your scent gland and you shivered as the soft leather brushed over your skin. It did not take long until he pulled his gloves off, settling them into your lap, before resuming his motions.

The nervous energy in the room was palpable but it was practically radiating off him and it inevitably affected you as well. Where you had been excited, if a bit reluctant, a few weeks ago at the prospect of reclaiming Mandalore, now there was only a strange sense of dread in your stomach. One that even the alpha could not dissolve.

“When you wake up tomorrow, some of us will set foot on our homeland for the first time in too many years,” Briggs announced, his serious gaze roaming over the packed hall, “I cannot promise you it will be easy. I cannot promise we will all wake up to the sight of Mandalore. But we will die trying.”

You could see Ragnar looking back at his father who tilted his head. A gesture meant to be reassuring but only resulted in you questioning whether Paz would be one of those dying. You shifted nervously, causing Paz to tighten his hold on your waist.

“Calm down, love,” he rumbled quietly behind you, “It will be alright.”

Forcing yourself to nod, you gripped his large hand tightly, trying to burn into your brain what it was like to touch him,

“Rest well and rest assured that tomorrow will mark the start of a brand new era,” Briggs raised his glass, “And let us toast to our home!”

“To our home!”

Everyone lifted their glasses and the conversations resumed, a constant background roar that reminded you of the countless fates that were tied to the success of this mission. A strange feeling started in your chest, and not the kind that Paz’s presence usually caused.

You shifted again, watching as the crowd dissipated and the foundlings were walked off to bed. Their excited chatter moved down the hall and something cold clenched your heart when you watched Ragnar wave at his father.

Immediately everything quieted down. With everyone returning to their own conversations and the hall being considerably more empty now, Paz did not waste any time. His hands landed on your thighs and you managed a wobbly smile.

“What is going on in your pretty head?” he asked you, his fingers skimming over your thighs, “You’ve been squirmy all evening.”

“Who says something is on my mind?”, you popped a berry into your mouth, grimacing at the sudden sour taste.

“True,” he laughed, “You might have just spent dinner thinking about when you can finally sit on my cock again.”

“Paz!” you gasped, “you cannot – I mean – what if –“ You glanced around with flushed cheeks, relieved to see that no one had seemed to hear his indecent theory.

He laughed again and the sound made your heart and body melt. “I will never tire of making you flustered,” he murmured, his big hands pulling you closer, “Though I actually would not mind having you cockwarm me tonight, sweet omega,” his fingers brushed the underside of your breasts and you shivered, “I would be lying if I said I could ever get enough of you.”

“I actually had something similar in mind,” you admitted shyly, slipping off his lap and enjoying the way his hands followed you and his body leant into you. As if he wanted to keep touching you, as if he never wanted to let you go. Your heart skipped a beat and you smiled.

“I … would like to try something?”

He leant back, his legs spreading with the movement and your teeth dug into your bottom lip at the sight of the obvious bulge in his pants. “Oh yeah, omega, and what would that be?”

You made a few steps away, making sure that your robe (a dark blue, just like his armour) swished around your form as enticingly as possible. Paz’s head turned to follow your movement from your place in front of him to a chair in a dark alcove, dressed in shadows where you knelt down right in front of it.

The big alapha hummed, rising to his feet, knowing exactly what it was you had in mind. “I think I can get behind that idea.”

From the other sounds that were floating through the cantina, you knew that illicit things were already well underway. Most of them likely more graphic and adventurous than what you had in mind. Still, you felt a little nervous at the prospect of sucking Paz Vizsla’s cock.

But for some reason, this was exactly what you needed. You wanted to bring him pleasure, so much pleasure.

You watched as he pulled off his cape, folding it expertly before motioning for you to stand. He dropped it on the floor, his hand steadying your elbow as you sunk down on the soft fabric. “Don’t want you uncomfortable,” he announced, before sitting down in the chair.

He looked big like this, bigger than usual. And oh so confident it already made your panties wet. His knees spread, the trunks he called thigh caging you in and you watched with bated breath as his fingers undid his codpiece, expertly freeing his cock.

He was already hard and dripping precome, the knot at the base slightly inflated and you squeezed your thighs. It was not like you had never seen his cock before and it certainly was not as if he had not fucked you before. Yet, the sheer size of him and the thought of taking him in your mouth overwhelmed you a little.

Where were you supposed to start?

But when one big rough hand closed around his shaft and Paz started to jerk off right in front of you, you could not help but to simply … dive in.

Opening your mouth as far as it would go, you closed your lips around his tip, one hand struggling to fit around him. The grunt he let out, paired with a twitch of his hips, had you smiling around him.

“Stars above,” he cursed, “Warn a man next time, won’t you, love?”

You looked up at him, teary-eyed, while your tongue licked the underside of him. Or at least the part you could reach. He was heavy in your mouth, heavy and big and he tasted of something that made you want more. Slowly, you moved forward trying to take more of him but soon enough, he bumped something at the back of your throat and you sputtered.

Before you could panic about breathing, Paz had pulled out of you, his large hand cupping your cheek while the other was still wrapped around the base of his cock. “Deep breaths, omega,” he soothed you, his hand leisurely stroking himself, “You are doing so good for, trying to take it all.”

“You’re so big,” you marvelled, wrapping your hands around him, “I want it all, alpha, I – Paz, I really want it all.”

“Want my help?” he asked, “Might have to be a little rougher, though, sweet omega, and I can smell how much that turns you on but I need you to tell me – Are you sure?”

You nodded eagerly, darting your tongue out to lick at him. “I am sure, alpha,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to the tip, “I promise.”

“If it is too much, tap my thigh three times, understood?”

You nodded again, shifting on your makeshift pillowed. Your thighs were already drenched at this point and you wondered whether you could come just from sucking him off. It seemed like you would be able to do a lot of things when it came to Paz.

His grip on your face loosened just the tiniest bit. “Open up for me,” he ordered, pulling your face towards him, “There we fucking go. Gorgeous.”

“I will never tire of this sight,” he groaned, “You struggling to take my size, trying to be so good for me,” he shifted, his hips surging forward and you smiled with pride when you did not gag this time, “Can I go deeper, love? Is that okay?”

With your position between his legs, your jaw wide open around him, you could not really nod. But Paz seemed to recognize the excited twinkle in your eye because you could hear the grin in his voice when he muttered a “Stars, you’re perfect.”

You took great care to keep your breathing even and through your nose, experimentally swirling your tongue around him every time he pulled out of your mouth. His thrusts grew heavier, his hold on you tighter and you swore you were this close to coming just from the sheer sight of his shaft covered in the sheen of you.

It was not long before he came in thick spurts on your tongue. You struggled to swallow it all, your throat working overtime as you did your best to swallow around him. “Good girl,” he praised you, “My good fucking girl.”

Your heart jumped in your chest as you licked him clean, not quite ready to let go of this intimacy.

His hand came to your chin, gently scooping up some of the come that had spilt from your lips. “Here you go,” he offered his coated thumb and you sucked the digit into your mouth without hesitation. You could never get enough of his taste.

“Let’s retire for the night, love,” he suggested, “We have a long day ahead of us.”

By the time you got settled in your bunk, you knew it was only a few hours before everything would start. Before you had to say goodbye.

Paz had excused himself, leaving you to get ready for bed alone before he appeared by your side, dressed completely in his armour.

“Are you okay?”

“Said goodbye to Ragnar,” he explained, sitting down on the little cot, hunching his shoulders over so he would not hit his head.

“Oh.”

Somewhere behind the curtains, someone snored.

Paz grunted when he laid down, his giant arm reaching out and pulling your back to his front.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly, “It’s a tight fit.”

“It’ll be okay,” he murmured, grunting when he pulled the curtain closed, “I will not spend my last night without my calmer.”

“Aren't you uncomfortable?” you asked, your voice small, “With – with the armours and me and all the …”

“I will not spend my last night without my calmer,” he repeated, leaving no room for doubt. It took a bit of shuffling to turn you around but when you finally were facing him, you already felt much better. You tucked your face into his neck, breathing in his scent as he wrapped both arms around you.

Your heart was squeezing so hard in your chest that the emotional pain became physical.

What if this was his last night? What if you would never see him again?

And what if you did? Would it ever be like this again? Would he want to keep you as his calmer (or more?) when Mandalore was finally reclaimed?

Paz shifted, his large hands running over your back until one settled at the back of your neck.

“I got you,” he rumbled, “You’ll be safe, omega, I promise.”

You swallowed away the need to tell him that it wasn’t your safety you were worried about.

The next morning was worse. It barely qualified as morning and you were sure you had not found any sleep. You had just been shifting all night from side to side, desperately burying your nose in his neck to soak up every little bit of his scent that he could give you.

You were not sure if Paz had slept either but when the alarms sounded in the room at the same time, it took him a minute to get up. Everyone was shuffling around the packed room silently, most of them already dressed and armoured. Ready to descend to the surface of Mandalore.

Despair was clawing at your insides. You felt like you were watching something from the outside that you knew would fail. That you knew would destroy everything you held close to your heart.

And yet, you watched helplessly as they lined up, preparing to board the ship that would take them into the atmosphere.

It was silent – eerie – as if everyone knew something big was about to happen. And you couldn’t move from his side. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. You needed to be here with him.

You watched as Paz double-checked his weapons and your mouth quirked up as you remembered how the man had seemed like a weapon on his own the very first time you had seen him. And how true it was, now that you saw guns and rifles packed to every piece of his armour that could carry it.

Your smile fell just as quickly as it had appeared. Would this be the last time you got to see him?

You had been scared a lot of times in your life. Like when your parents had taught you how to swim and you had been convinced you would sink to the bottom of the sea. Or when you had taken a bad fall in one of the hiding places and scuffed your knee. But that childish fear of creatures and heights was nothing compared to the existential dread that settled in your stomach.

It wasn’t fear that something could go wrong it was fear that you knew something was going to go wrong.

And could you really risk this?

“You, uh, you will come back, right?” you whispered, already hating how needy you sounded. But you needed to hear him say it. You needed Paz Vizsla’s words to be the ones to tie you to the hope of a future together.

“Someone already scared for me?” Paz tilted his head and while you knew this was supposed to be a joke, his voice did not sound very light. Like he knew it too. That feeling.

“Well, I mean you have Ragnar,” you shrugged, pulling the cloak closer around you, “And I mean your tribe needs you, you are a great warrior and –“

“Exactly,” he interrupted you gently. You watched as he approached you, his steps heavy and measured and you swallowed. “I am a great warrior,” he repeated with his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him, “Which is why I will come back to you.”

“But –“

“Listen to me,” he whispered, his hand cupping the side of your neck, scenting you so gently your eyes fluttered close, “I vow to the stars, I will come back to you, love.”

That was the last thing he said to you before he boarded the ship.

If somebody asked you what happened during the time you were waiting, you would not be able to tell them. As soon as Paz embarked on the with the scouting group, it felt like time stood still. You barely knew what you were doing. You were pacing the entire length of the ship it seemed, Ragnar keeping you company for a few of those pacing trips before he distracted himself by playing with the other foundlings.

You tried to approach your feelings rationally. You had spent a lot of your time these past few days in close proximity with Paz. He was an alpha, you were an omega, obviously there were some biological components that could have contributed to your feelings for him.

But that was exactly it. Your feelings …

At the thought of Paz not coming back, it felt like your heart ripped into two. You could not fathom a world without him in it and, more importantly perhaps, you could not fathom your life without him in it. You wanted him to come back and when all the tribes settled in their parts of Mandalore, you wanted to be as close to him as now. You wanted to spend your evening with him and Ragnar and you wanted to know what his days were like, what his role was in his clan.

Whether he wanted to keep you in his life as well.

Waiting was pure torture. Communications were cut and all that remained was the cold silence of the ship. You avoided the cockpit and strategy meetings, Briggs (thankfully) seemed to understand your reluctance and did not press you on the matter. Until Axe Woves came to warn the ship of the Imperial that had settled on the planet and the fight that had broken loose.

That was the meeting you had insisted on attending, hoping that – in whatever capacity – the stoic alpha might drop some comments about the people on the surface.

“Is,” you swallowed, “Is he well?”

The beskar-clad man, much to your frustration, said nothing at all.

Which was not very helpful.

The fight continued and troops were dispatched and you stayed, keeping the foundlings safe and quiet. In fitful dreams, you heard yourself confessing your love to him just before he disappeared never to return again. You woke up with cold sweats until you crawled into his bunk, pressing your nose into his pillow and willing yourself to think of a future in which he came back to you unharmed.

Sometimes, you could hear Sluice and Chants converse about what to do if it all failed. Whether to settle back in Nevarro was another possibility or if the tribes should stick together to find a new home.

All you could think was that you would not leave Paz on this planet.

You could not leave him.

It was morning when the announcement came. You had buried yourself in his cot, his sheets pressed to your nose as you took trembling breaths when the PA system stuttered to life, the mechanical voice echoing through the empty hallways.

You had retaken Mandalore. The air was breathable and you could safely land on the surface to meet the victorious troops.

The joy and excitement that spread through your entire body could not be described. Nothing could happen to wipe the smile off your face as you frantically searched for the one good dress you wanted to wear when you saw Paz again. You wanted to please him and kiss him and tell him you loved him. And maybe, if you were very lucky, he loved you too.

Stars, how you hoped he would.

But that elation stopped short when you set foot onto Mandalore. You could not even look at the surrounding landscapes, the fallen home of your ancestors – when you spotted the group but no Paz. A quick glance around did not reveal him either and suddenly the feeling of dread was back again.

Briggs was standing there too, and you knew the man long enough that when you saw his eyes getting glassy at your sight, he did not need to say anything anymore for the tears to fall.

This was it then.

You always wondered what it would feel like to live with a broken heart. Now you knew.

The pain in your heart was unbearable and you suddenly wished that you had never left the bunk this morning. That you were still curled up in his scent and his blankets without the knowledge that the alpha you wanted to spend your life with was dead.

“Where is my buir?” Ragnar asked somewhere behind you and you could hear it in his voice. How he tried to sound strong but he was just a child. A child without his father.

He made his way to the front and stopped by your side. You put your hands on his shoulder.

“I am sure he will be fine,” you assured him, not believing your own words, “He – he must have … another mission somewhere, right?” you looked to Axe Woves who avoided your gaze, “Right?”

Ragnar grabbed your hand. “Bu said if he is late, I need to distract you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because we're family,” he said it so effortlessly, “and because I know he will come back but you might worry and you shouldn’t worry.”

You were not sure what happened first: the stopping of your heart or the break in your breath. Paz told him you were his family? Ragnar considered you … his family?

“Do you wanna play a board game?” the boy asked and the breath rushed back into your lungs, “Bu taught me a few games for when I wait for him to come back.”

“He did?” you asked, your voice faint as you followed him back to where someone had set up a small open-air cantina at the ramp of the ship. You ignored the looks Briggs and Chants gave you. Ignored the way that Bo Katan bowed her head as if to pay respect to you as if you had something to mourn.

Not now, you told yourself as your heart cracked in your chest. Maybe tomorrow you could bury yourself in Paz’s bunk, breathing in his scent until there was nothing left but your own grief.

Tomorrow, you promised yourself, Tomorrow I will know he is dead.

The sun was setting over the mountains and Ragnar made no sign of stopping the game anytime soon. He had patiently explained the elaborate card game to you before dealing the cards. And then he had continued to play with you the entire day. Sometimes, people joined you for a round or two. The first had been Din Djarin – the man with the green baby. He had not said anything but you could feel the sadness coming off him in waves.

Then there had been The Armourer who had stayed for only one round, occasionally speaking to Ragnar about his helmet ceremony (the first having been interrupted only a few weeks prior). She was followed by Sluice, Bo Katan and finally, Briggs.

“Mind if I join?” the older man had asked, only sitting down when you nodded.

“Not at all,” Ragnar spoke up, relieving you of the to find the energy, “Do you know the rules?”

Briggs had left after two rounds, his warm hand on your shoulder the only indication of what he had come here to say. My condolences for your loss.

The tears had burned hot in your eyes but you forced yourself to keep playing. Ragnar won most rounds and the one he did not, you were fairly sure he lost on purpose. “No worries,” he assured you with childish wisdom, “Sometimes it takes a little longer to get the rules.”

“That is okay,” you forced yourself to smile, “How about we take a break for some food?”

“Good idea!” the boy jumped up, “I will get some of the berries and you stay here and watch the cards!”

Before you could protest, he had raced to the small buffet table.

You both welcomed and feared the moment of solitude this afforded you. It allowed you to take a deep breath, to let your shoulders and your guard fall. Maybe even a few tears if you were quick about it. You did not want Ragner to see you like this. He seemed to be determined that his father was alive and well – that he would return – that you could not bear to be the one to break his heart.

“Bu!” Ragnar shouted and you whipped around immediately. It took you a moment to find Ragnar but when you did, he had his arms wrapped around the legs of a large man. A man dressed in dark blue armour.

“Paz,” you sighed, feeling tons lighter. Ragnar threw himself at his father who caught him though you did not fail to notice the way his legs almost buckled.

Stars he was hurt.

A new wave of panic washed over you and you did not realise you had stood up until the stoll toppled behind you. Several pairs of eyes were on you but you only cared about one.

Paz set Ragnar down and whispered something to him. You watched as the boy nodded, skipping off to Din and the Armourer. And then Paz walked towards you. Though walk seemed too weak a word for the way his heavy steps came closer and closer, his looming figure soon right in front of you.

Paz was right in front of you.

“You,” he growled, taking your hand without slowing his stride, “Come with me.”

“Paz, what happened?” you asked, trying to look him over, “Are you hurt? Did – Were those Imperials we spotted on the radar? Axe Woves and Briggs and – oh stars, we need to get you checked out and wait – are you bleeding? Where does it hurt maybe I can –“

A door swished open and you glanced around in confusion. This was not the infirmary. This was not even a proper room if the cleaning supplies on the shelves were anything to go by.

“Paz, you need – oh!” your hands gripped his shoulders tightly when he lifted you onto a surface. Was it a table? A counter? Stars, you could not bring yourself to care. Not when he was standing in front of you, panting like he had the fight of his life behind him.

Which he probably did.

Your heart clenched again, from fear or joy you could not tell.

His large hand fiddled with your dress and with a rip, your entire front piece was hanging off you in tatters.

“Alpha,” you cried, moving your hands from his shoulders to his chest, “Alpha, are you all right? I was so worried.”

The big man stepped between your open legs and you took a deep breath. The smell of adrenaline burned your nose but you could not help but notice the arousal that was in the air as well. He was angry and determined and the way he did not even look at his hands when he tugged on his belt made you glad you were already sitting down.

“Keep calling me that and I will be,” he grunted, opening the snaps of his armour and finally his fly.

Your eyes were fixated on his hand around his cock. “Pull down your dress,” he instructed instead, “I want to see your tits.”

You hurried to do so, almost ripping the fabric entirely in the process but you could not care less. Not when you had your dream of an alpha standing between your open legs, getting ready to fuck you. The ruined fabric pooled around your hips and the cool air made your nipple pebble. But then Paz was right there, the bulk of his body between yours and you could feel his cock against the inside of your thigh.

He pushed the tip of his cock against your folds, slowly circling your clit and you whimpered. Why did everything he did feel so good? “Ready?” he asked, spreading your wetness around and you found yourself wishing that you could see. That you could see how big he was against you, how his hand gripped himself, how his brows might furrow in determination and the set of his lips as he pushed inside you.

But you could not have everything in life. And for this moment, the feeling of his cock stretching your walls was enough. He was here, he was alive and he made you feel so stars forsaken good.

“Fuck,” you sighed, “Paz …”

“That’s good, huh?” he grumbled, slowly pulling out before pushing back in. You could feel your walls ease around him, your juices covering his shaft and the gland on your neck pulsed with the need to have him scent you.

He remained still for a few moments and you took a deep breath, breathing him in again and trying to get yourself to realize that he was alive. Your alpha was alive.

Paz started to move, then, and slowly pushed inside you again before building up a steady rhythm that had him deep, deep inside you. And all you could think, between bouts of pleasure, was that he was alive. Paz was alive.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your hand shaking as you gripped the edge of the table, overcome with emotion, “A-alpha, I was so scared. “

A particularly hard thrust had your hands fly around his neck. “I was protecting you,” he replied, his voice shaking, “You were never in any danger, omega, I would not allow it.”

“I wasn’t scared for me, you di’kut,” you cursed as you hastily wiped away the tears streaming down your face, “I was scared for you!”

Paz grunted at your admission, pushing inside you again and pulling you as close as he could with the armour in the way. “And I was scared of never seeing you again,” he confessed into the darkness between your faces, “That I was breaking my promise to you.”

“Wh-What,” you gasped, feeling his cock grow inside you, “Alpha, what is happening?”

“Oh fuck,” he grunted, “Sorry, ‘mega, sorry, I didn't mean to – oh shit, love, you gotta stop squeezing me.”

Easier said than done. In fact, it seemed impossible. Because as soon as you realized that it was his knot swelling inside of you, all you could think about was what it would be like to be knotted by him. Which turned you on beyond belief.

The mental image of him filling you up to the brim, the giant size of him staying inside you, made your walls flutter and your high approach so much faster. Paz’s movements did not stop and you could feel the ring at his base growing and growing, catching on your entrance with every thrust and making you yearn to keep him inside.

“Alpha, will you – Can you – oh!” he hit that spot inside you again that made your blood sing and you fell back against the wall, completely at his mercy.

And then the light went out.

Your body tensed with fright and you squeaked, thinking something had gone horribly wrong. But Paz did not seem deterred and you faintly remembered that the light switch was somewhere on his side of the room.

There was a sound you could not pinpoint, followed by a loud clatter and then his hand was at the back of your neck, pulling you to him and you squirmed at how he folded you in half, his cock still nestled deep inside you and then he was … kissing you.

You gasped, the feeling of his lips familiar against yours and everything you had dreamed of.

“Fuck it feels good to fill you up,” he murmured, the praise making your cheeks warm.

Your legs were still trembling around his hips and you tightened your hold around his neck. Your nose bumped against his scent gland. Add that to the feeling of his smile against your shoulder and even retaking Mandalore could never rival the feeling of being scented by him.

“That good, huh?” he teased you, his lips moving against your skin.

He had some stubble that tickled your sensitive skin and you gasped, the sensation opening you up even more.

And then he pushed inside you one last time as you came around him. The knot at his base swelled with no signs of stopping, locking you together as he filled you up. You shivered at the feeling of him twitching inside you, spurts of come filling you up in a way you had never experienced before, increasing the pressure inside you that made your walls clench. He continued to rut against you, causing your clit to rub against his pelvis again and again, prolonging your peak.

After what felt like an eternity, you came down from your high, relishing in the feeling of him still pulsing inside of you. It was strange, something you had never experienced before, but the closeness made you sigh contentedly against his lips.

Paz was quiet save for a few grunts, his hands grabbing your hips, keeping you as close as possible.

“I’ve never been knotted before,” you admitted between kisses.

“Really?” Paz asked, his mouth pausing on yours, “How does it feel?”

“It feels kinda nice, alpha,” you whispered, pulling his face closer to yours again.

Paz did not say anything for a moment, his laboured breath loud in the small room. Then his hands cupped your face and you could feel his eyes on you and you wondered if he was able to see you despite the darkness. Probably not, after all, it was his visor that usually enabled him to do so. But he made you feel seen with how his thumbs brushed over the apples of your cheeks, still wet with tear tracks or how his lips softly landed on yours.

“I don’t think I told you yet,” he said against your mouth, “But you are beautiful. To me, you are the – the most stunning omega I have ever seen. When I was down there – when I … I dreamt of what it would be like to see you with my own eyes.”

A flutter started in your chest. An awful flutter of hope that had you thinking of futures beyond the next few days. He could not mean what you thought he meant, right?

“But you helmet –“ you started, trying to rationalize away the hope in your voice.

But Paz had other plans. “I want to court you,” he said, sounding as determined as ever, “Stars, I want to properly court you, love, whatever that entails for your clan but I asked Briggs and –“

“What?”

“I wanted to make sure that I did everything right,” he explained, his hand warm on your back, “So I asked him about any customs I might have to know, that last night before we left and – and for a second there it looked like I would never get to ask you. But I can, love, I can ask you now. Will you let me court you, ‘mega? Will you let me spend the rest of my life with you and Ragnar and all the other foundlings the stars let us have?”

“You – you want children, too?” you asked, feeling like the breath was stolen out of your lungs, “M-more than Rganar, I mean?”

You could feel his smile against your neck, the tip of his nose buried in the valley beneath your ear. “Course I do,” he confirmed, “Ragnar is the biggest gift of my life, I won't say no to that joy again.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest and you could feel your walls clench around him. Paz moaned, his cock twitching inside you. “Is that a yes, then?” he asked carefully, his hand wandering up to cup the back of your neck. He moved away from you,

“Yes,” you breathed out with the biggest smile on your face, “Yes, Paz.”

The scent that surrounded you made you euphoric and you realized that it had been Paz all along. That sweet scent that made your heart beat faster and a smile appear on your lips? Paz fucking Vizsla.

“Open your eyes, mesh’la,” he asked you quietly, his breath warm on your face, “Look at me, sweetheart.”

And you did. Your eyes blinked open and it took you both an eternity and a second to get your eyes used to the seemingly blinding light of the storage room. But then your eyes met his and you saw Paz Vizsla for the first time.

He had dark eyes, just like you had daydreamed, and his hair looked just as soft as it had always felt. It was matted to his forehead in places and he looked … exhausted, like he had not slept in days. There were bruises on his cheekbones and you could see some dried blood and dirt on his jaw. But all of that was overshadowed by the brightest, biggest grin on his face.

It made the corners of his eyes crinkle and you could not help but smile back, absolutely in awe of the man in front of you. What were you supposed to say the first time you saw the face of the man you had fallen hopelessly in love with?

“You are handsome,” is what you settled on finally, carefully brushing your fingertip over his crooked nose.

He huffed out a laugh, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Thank you, my love,” he rumbled and your heart skipped a beat at him calling you his. Because you were, truly, whether you had realised it before or not, his.

“I love you,” you blurted out, feeling oddly shy.

“I love you too,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, “There is no version of this life in which I do not love you.”

“You will have to tell me about your scars,” you whispered, your eyes roaming over his face, catching on one that cut through his eyebrow, “Every single one.”

“I will,” he promised, kissing you again, “We have a lifetime for it.”

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader #smut

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tildeathiwillwrite · 3 days

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genuine qustion, bc i dont understand whump, why do you like it? whats the appeal? am i missing something?

I'm going to assume from the wording of this question that you already have an idea of what whump is, and you're asking why someone would want to read/write it, but if not here is a good post summarizing the genre.

This post is divided into two parts below the cut: the appeal of whump for me, and an explanation of why I like whump.

For me, personally, the appeal of whump comes from putting a character (whether that be an someone else's character, my original character, or a nameless whumpee) in Situations (with or without a whumper), and then having the difficult recovery or healing process (usually with a caretaker). Sometimes I deviate from this pattern, such as omitting the recovery, but that is usually my main focus.

A bit more emphasis on the comfort in hurt/comfort, but there's also hurt in the comfort.

My main love of whump stems from the tropes I enjoy:

Used as bait (where a whumpee is captured with the intent on using them to lure the caretaker into trying to rescue them in order to capture the caretaker too). I like this one because of the suspense of knowing it's a trap, and wondering if the caretaker will manage to rescue the whumpee, or get captured themselves.

Magic whump (whump but in the fantasy genre). This one gives more possibilities or twists on usual whump tropes by adding magic into the mix. Combined with my love for fantasy writing.

Captivity whump (a whumpee captured by a whumper, usually including various forms of torture). This trope is very versatile. Why were they captured? What does the whumper gain by torturing them? So many possibilities. Not to mention the rescue afterwards!

Sickfic (whumpee is sick, usually with a caretaker). Someone else mentioned this before, I don't remember who otherwise I would've linked them, but illness is something rarely seen in existing media. When a piece of media has whump, it's usually torture or a fight scene, but I've only ever seen sickness a handful of times. I like the idea of a character having all these cool abilities but still getting the common cold, especially when they have someone else to take care of them. Also it's easier to write from experience for this then, say, getting stabbed.

PTSD whump (when a character has trauma). This is more of a recovery trope. I hate it when a piece of media has a character go through an incredibly traumatizing event and then as soon as they're out, they're perfectly fine mentally. Let the character have ptsd, dammit! I don't really write this often, but when I do I love writing the nightmares in particular.

Immortal whump (with a character who, for whatever reason, cannot die). I love this one because it opens up even more possibilities for whumping. It usually depends on how the character's immortality works, but they can take a lot more damage than any other whumpee.

Realism in whump (realistic injuries, illness, and recovery). Really just a preference, as I'm studying in the medical field and already know a lot about how the human body works, so I use that knowledge and apply it to my writing. For example, fainting as portrayed in hollywood movies is a lot different from how fainting actually is. Involves a fair amount of research, but I personally think it's worth it.

(side note: I haven't really found any tropes which I strongly dislike, but out of personal preference I avoid smut and nsfw whump such as rape)

As to why I like whump? This was a tough question to answer, to properly articulate. It's fiction. And writing give me freedom to do pretty much anything to the characters and through the characters. I suppose whump is another way to exercise that creativity. "I know how the character reacts to this Situation, but what about this other Situation?"

I know some other writers use whump writing to work through their trauma, as catharsis. Props to them, but I don't write whump for that reason. I always liked putting my characters in Situations, and then a couple years ago discovered what whump was, went "that's a thing?!" and basically dove in head first.

The Tumblr whump community itself has also been very sweet and welcoming, I draw a lot of inspiration from the other writers, especially when I'm trying to figure out what to write next. I doubt I would still be writing whump if the community wasn't as welcoming, and I'm very glad it's not the case. If you go back in my archive, the first writing I started posting was whump. Nameless whump turned into oc whump, which turned into posting about my WIPs. So if the whump community gatekept me out, I probably wouldn't be posting any writing at all (and that's very sad to think about).

I hope this post was helpful to you! I can't speak for other members of the whump community, these opinions and motives are my own. If you have any more questions feel free to ask.

#thanks for the ask!#anon ask #long post #whump #whumpblr #whump blog #whump community #writing thoughts #used as bait #magic whump #captivity whump #sickfic #recovery #ptsd whump #immortal whump #realistic whump

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selfhealingsweetheart · 2 days

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a lot of people like to begin and end their research into the possibility of endogenic systems existing by merely aggressively pointing to the DSM5 definition of dissociative identity disorder and using this to make some complex claims like:

"dissociative identity disorder is only ever formed by early childhood severe trauma, and so if you don't experience disordered symptoms of plurality, you don't have dissociative identity disorder, therefore you can't be a system."

however, if you ever bothered to look more into psychological literature, as you should before making grandiose sweeping opinionated claims with insufficient research backing, you'd know that the experience of plurality is actually, within the psychiatric community, discussed heavily.

there are plenty of paradigms where you can find things analogous in description to nondisordered, therapist-endorsed plurality, including therapeutic methods of engaging with oneself as plural as a means of Improving oneself: for example, Schema Therapy (often utilized with borderline patients and people with personality disorders), and Internal Family Systems (often utilized in general types of patients, whether or not they were severely traumatized as a child or even as an adult or adolescent)

as a side note, it's very anti-intellectual to have rabidly-held opinions that you bully people online about without even bothering to do a ton of research, especially into perspectives from academics that disagree with your personal very online opinions. any serious practicioner of psychology would be one who is open-minded and seeking to not Confirm a Theory but to learn and form new ideas based on what their clients can teach them.

it's also quite offensive towards survivors of psychiatric abuse to insist upon the psychiatric system of diagnostics as the end-all-be-all of one's existence, and it smells like major bootlicking to only ever allow oneself and others to be ~valid~ If an authority confirms it. it's not like the DSMs are these perfect encapsulations of everything ever that could happen psychologically, things are added and removed all the time, and those actions often accrue significant behind-the-scenes debate in the academic sphere, where people with write papers on why they think something should or shouldn't be there. remember, the DSM is simply supposed to be a Tool that Guides clinicians in order to help them distinguish certain phenomena from others, but at the end of the day not only is it Not supposed to focus on nondisordered manifestations of behaviors, but it's also not made to reductively simplify any active debate in psychiatry merely because one thing is canonized a certain way, just so you can be Right Online™

anyway. in schema therapy, schemas are said to be parts of people that hold certain typified negative self-belief systems, and patients are encouraged to both label them and speak to or as them, in order to convince their parts of new and more healthy or productive modes of thinking, rather than getting triggered into letting the schema take over and give them negative thoughts and emotional issues.

these parts are understood within the literature to be natural to everybody, because everyone compartmentalizes into belief + emotional structures like these; what makes them 'not dissociative identity disorder' is merely the fact that these parts do not cause amnesia when taking over the core self, and that they are often identified as 'parts' of the primary person, rather than fully separated other people with distinct consciousnesses. nonetheless, this is one of many examples of the parts work methodology wherein the self is casually understood to be multiple or have subpersonalities or parts within psychological literature, and that fact is then taken towards the conclusion of using this experience in a healing-oriented way.

here is an example of schema therapy, an excerpt of A Client’s Guide to Schema Therapy by David C. Bricker, Ph.D. and Jeffrey E. Young, Ph.D. who are from the Schema Therapy Institute;

moving on, there is my other example: internal family systems. in IFS, clients are encouraged by their practitioner to personify and then actively dialogue with their various emotional states and common modes, and also to look for particular styles of parts already well-known by the IFS paradigm such as 'firefighters' and 'managers,' which are two different kinds of protector parts. with IFS becoming popularized nowadays, more and more laypeople are now becoming comfortable with the idea that they have psychological parts, which can be parts of their personal Self or parts that exist within them and hold certain emotional functions, despite perhaps not experiencing the typical heavy dissociative states definitive of disordered types of multiplicity like DID.

here are some excerpts from a book called The Others Within Us, by Robert Falconer, with a foreword by Dick Schwartz, the founder of IFS, as well as many high praise reviews from members of the psychiatric community for his writing, which breaks new grounds and is very in-depth and thorough.

here he discusses needing to have an open mind towards phenomena that are not well-studied yet, and learning to humble himself in order to do so even as a trained clinical trauma counselor in his 60s and 70s at the time of studying and eventually writing this book.

first of all, take note of his discussion of the contestation of even PTSD when they were trying to get it canonized in the DSM. an entire movement including political pressure had to be formed just to get ptsd into the literature. nowadays nobody on this website would (hopefully) contest the validity of ptsd as an experience people could have, but back then, people had to hold their ground against the psychiatric system and even the government just to prove that their experiences deserved to be taken seriously. don't think that this was the olden days either, because the academic world still tends to hold tight to its current state and not be welcoming towards experiences outside its own paradigms, so its good to keep in mind that there are histories and politics going into the making of all this psychological literature, with more room yet for even further and more uncommon experiences to be discussed.

second of all, note that he says that to clinicians working even with people with MPD/DID, it became apparent that the parts structure could be normal for people, beneficial, and even healthy, and that it was simply the severely dissociative aspects of it that they would work to heal, rather than viewing the entire experience of plurality as inherently disordered or solely a product of trauma.

i hope its clear by now that there's a lot of discussion surrounding this issue, but that plenty of it involves the normalization of nondisordered plurality, that plurality can be even healthy and a good, therapist-approved means of self-exploration for people, and that you should not cherry-pick literature while using intellectually dishonest argument techniques online.

endos are valid imho. i myself am a dissociative system, but at least i don't claim that my opinion is the standard opinion based on just that, i actually try to do my research. hopefully this was interesting to you, and please don't discourse on my post. kthxbai

#syscourse #dissociative identity disorder #did system #traumagenic system #endogenic system #actually multiple #original post

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thehardkandy · 4 months

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i have been lurking around online help forums answering questions for probably at least 15 years and to this day it still drives me absolutely bananas when people essentially just post "HELP! I HAVE A PROBLEM" and then refuse to provide any information or context as if you are some sort of mind-reading savant capable of inducing all the information required on the broadest problem imaginable

#motivated by someone who posted about how they cant figure out X thing #where the thing in question is that they were trying to install code they found online #but they did not say what they were trying to add or what it was or where they got #or even whether it was something that was a part of something they were writing or just a couple lines #and of course after replies from op i see oh you're installing a third-party add-on #and that add-on literally has installation instructions #so i have absolutely no clue why they are posting to a DIFFERENT website. literally asking for quote 'explain step by step'#WHEN THEY DONT SAY WHAT THEY'RE DOING #AND WHAT THEYRE DOING #ALREADY HAS STEP-BY-STEP INSTRUCTIONS #the issue that im taking isnt that this person struggled to understand how to do something. thats fine. thats why im here #it just frustrates me when people dont try to articulate what the issue is #you dont need to be RIGHT but i do need to know 1) what are you trying to do 2) what have you done to achieve (i.e. post your damn code/ref #3) what is going wrong and then just an optional 4 of context #but 1 2 3 are very important otherwise it's just playing 20 questions #and this is all assuming we've gotten past the stuff like 'is the program actually set up how you claim it is set up'#because a lot of times the problem is they misunderstood a setting which is making everything else wrong #but that's the kind of thing i can infer based having accurate information

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theramblingvoid · 1 year

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It's missing Bag a Legend hours

#fallen london #apparently some parts of it don't make sense with greater lore or something idk but consider: i don't know the lore #all i know is it gave me Some Type Of Feeling when my character tried to hunt a monster based on curiosity alone #and found themself the only person who could even have a bare chance of undoing this...monster yes but also political figure #nightmare. near-god #a once in a thousand year chance and the way the writing gives you the full knowledge that you did not get there by skill #the nuns were training for much longer. april probably could have made the bomb herself #in fact it almost feels like the player's position in bag a legend relies on them NOT having the skill #less skill and knowledge than willingness. simultaneously disposable and essential #and for Hallowrove it was still a story about wanting to know #but it became more than just curiosity about a monster few had seen and instead shifted to #wanting to know whether this could be done. whether /they/ could do it. test the kind of power they'd been subject to #in one form or another for a lifetime #and see if it would actually give way. and if that giving way would actually turn out to MEAN something #and it did. the rulers are killable. the chain can be broken #and it didn't. the Bazaar still holds power. if anything more comfortably without their murderous colleague #but it made them uneasy. uneasy in the same way every person of London is every day #knowing that they're in the power of something so far above them in strength and so far from human as to see them as collectables #and for the player personally just. the sheer amount of time and effort you have to put into making that little tilt #the held breath feeling that this is a two sided hunt and you could die at any moment #the way it's such an ever present element all through the story that you are so far from the only or first person to try this #idk it just #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #bag a legend does things to me. i could write an essay #multiple probably #however i won't. because i don't know the Lore and people would so get on my ass for it jdhfjfjs #bag a legend spoilers #voidrambles

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vaugarde · 1 year

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i really dont know what to expect from magolor epilogue and im honestly not expecting a ton of story (lore stuff, absolutely bc magolor is kinda stuffed w lore as a character already) but ngl i do sorta hope theres at least a little bit of a hint of him improving or feeling bad or redemption so that people stop saying that he exists to be abuse apologia bc “he never got a real redemption arc”

#yknow ignoring that kirby as a series doesnt quite has a steady narrative #by this logic dedede being good now is abuse apologism bc he was a villain once and hes not allowed to improve and his arc was offscreen #and hes had a few villainous moments so obviously hes a poorly written character who ur suspicious for liking bc it means ur manipulative #u may think im exaggerating but fans back in the day were literally comparing him to abusers like. no?#tbf i mostly saw this during the point when this website was like ‘’redemption arcs are bad writing inherently’’ w no nuance #and trying to apply what went wrong with su to every property ever whether it fit or not #magolor is a fuckhead. yeah hes a dick. u dont have to like him but its so wild how ppl will act abt him #and its not even comparable to msot examples ppl compare him to like lusamine #w lusamine the argument was ‘’oh shes sad and she was a good mom once so she was never REALLY evil. ignore her verbally abuse lillie pls’’#magolor’s actions were never painted as something he couldnt control or that were misunderstood and well intentioned #hes a villain and the game is aware of that and thats why yknow. he literally got vaporized in the original #the ‘’oh he was only being possessed and controlled’’ thing was a misconception on fanons part. before rhe soul fight anyways #the reason he keeps coming back is bc hes a popular character that people like and wanted to see more of #and the reason his actions are brushed under the rug is not bc of a manifesto of why abuse is ok #its bc the devs were like ‘’wow itd be cool if u could race magolor in this game’’ and its not insensitive bc magolors plan was not based #in reality. idk this discussion annoys me lol #its fun to rag on him and bully him but trying to go ‘’if u like him that’s suspicious bc u like an abuser’’ is ridiculous #echoed voice

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bookished · 8 months

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HOW TO GIVE PERSONALITY TO A CHARACTER

Giving personality to a character is an essential part of character development in storytelling, whether you're writing a novel, screenplay, or creating a character for a role-playing game. Here are some steps and considerations to help you give personality to your character:

Understand Their Backstory:

Start by creating a detailed backstory for your character. Where were they born? What were their childhood experiences like? What significant events have shaped their life? Understanding their past can help you determine their motivations, fears, and desires.

2. Define Their Goals and Motivations:

Characters often become more interesting when they have clear goals and motivations. What does your character want? It could be something tangible like a job or a romantic relationship, or it could be an abstract desire like happiness or freedom.

3. Determine Their Strengths and Weaknesses:

No one is perfect, and characters should reflect this. Identify your character's strengths and weaknesses. This can include physical abilities, intellectual skills, and personality traits. Flaws can make characters relatable and three-dimensional.

4. Consider Their Personality Traits:

Think about your character's personality traits. Are they introverted or extroverted? Shy or outgoing? Kind or selfish? Create a list of traits that describe their character. You can use personality frameworks like the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator or the Big Five Personality Traits as a starting point.

5. Give Them Quirks and Habits:

Quirks and habits can make a character memorable. Do they have a specific way of speaking, a unique fashion style, or an unusual hobby? These details can help bring your character to life.

6. Explore Their Relationships:

Characters don't exist in isolation. Consider how your character interacts with others. What are their relationships like with family, friends, and enemies? These relationships can reveal a lot about their personality.

7. Show, Don't Tell:

Instead of explicitly telling the audience about your character's personality, show it through their actions, dialogue, and decisions. Let the reader or viewer infer their traits based on their behavior.

8. Create Internal Conflict:

Characters with internal conflicts are often more engaging. What inner struggles does your character face? These can be related to their goals, values, or past experiences.

9. Use Character Arcs:

Consider how your character will change or grow throughout the story. Character development is often about how a character evolves in response to the events and challenges they face.

10. Seek Inspiration:

Draw inspiration from real people, other fictional characters, or even historical figures. Study how people with similar traits and backgrounds behave to inform your character's actions and reactions.

11. Write Dialogue and Inner Monologues:

Writing dialogue and inner monologues from your character's perspective can help you get inside their head and understand their thought processes and emotions.

12. Consider the Setting:

The setting of your story can influence your character's personality. For example, a character who grows up in a war-torn environment may have a different personality than one raised in a peaceful, affluent society.

13. Revise and Refine:

Don't be afraid to revise and refine your character as you write and develop your story. Characters can evolve and change as the narrative unfolds.

Remember that well-developed characters are dynamic and multi-faceted. They should feel like real people with strengths, weaknesses, and complexities. As you write and develop your character, put yourself in their shoes and think about how they would react to various situations. This will help you create a compelling and believable personality for your character.

#writeblr #writing advice #creative writing #writerscommunity #writer problems #writing resources #writing community #writers on tumblr #writers block #the writer struggle #writing tips #writers #uservolkova

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screeching-bunny · 5 months

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Yandere! Game Show Host Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: I saw this request and was like this is such a cool request but what if we made him an evil game show host. Like one that would put contestants in deadly scenarios.

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host who kidnaps all of the contestants and forces them to play this twisted game that he created for money. Don’t worry though, he rigged the entire game to be in your favor. It was discreet enough for the viewers not to really care but apparent enough for you to notice the favoritism. Did you care? Hell no!! As long as you were getting paid you and survived this whole ordeal could give a rats ass about what happened next. Even when you do manage to get certain questions wrong, he will just brush it off and pretend that it was just a warm up question. The contestants are definitely seething whenever they see this happening.

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host is a psychopath by nature. In each round, he presents the contestants with morally ambiguous dilemmas, enticing them with promises of grand rewards while dangling the threat of dire consequences for failure. Whether it's forcing them to choose between betraying a fellow contestant or facing a treacherous obstacle, he revels in their anguish, relishing the psychological torment he inflicts.

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host is doing everything in his power to make sure that you win the game. He can’t have his poor baby feeling upset if they fail to win the grand prize. He would absolutely give out the most insane questions that practically no one knows the answer to. The punishment for getting a few questions wrong is mutilation of certain body parts and if you get too many questions wrong then you’ll end up being sent to your death. While everyone is basically being tortured in their punishments, he’d never allow that to happen to you. At most he’d probably just flick your forehead and call it a day. I imagine that most of the people watching the show are people who paid for the contestants to be kidnapped and be brought there against their wishes. Everyone who is put onto his show is a horrible person, including yourself, and have done something to be warranted to be there.

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host bends all the rules of the game for you, providing subtle hints or covert assistance to ensure your safety. Although he has a strong desire to see others in pain and suffering, his love for you is stronger. At first justifies these actions as preserving the "entertainment value" of the show, but deep down, he's driven by an inexplicable desire to protect you.

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host would baby you during your time there. He’d make a fuss whenever you tried to do anything remotely dangerous or touch some blood. I could totally see him using a baby voice to try to convince you to stop what you're doing. He has no shame, and everyone is looking at him with utter disbelief/confusion on their faces.

Yandere! Game Show Host: “Oh No! Please don’t go over there! You might slip from all the blood on the ground! Come here let me carry you across.”

Viewers: “…”

The contestant with their leg cut off: “…”

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host thrives on the power he wields over his contestants, reveling in their suffering as they navigate his challenges. As the game progresses, his demeanor grows more twisted, enjoying the contestants' internal conflicts and emotional turmoil. He taunts them with mocking laughter, reveling in their discomfort and manipulating their decisions to heighten the drama. God forbid that you manage to develop a crush on someone while you are there. He’d absolutely lose it and do everything in his power to crush them. You best believe that he’s going to keep them alive for as long as possible and give them the worst punishments known to man.

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host has cameras everywhere and when it's time for the contestants to rest for the night he’s going to be observing you. He’s a loser who doesn’t really know how to act around you without becoming a mess. In his spare time, he likes to just watch you through the cameras and imagine himself right next to you. He’s absolutely delulu about your feelings towards him and believes that you feel the same way. Even when you do manage to win this fucked up game, he’s not letting you go. There’s no way that he’s letting you leave after you managed to steal his heart. After this is all over, he’s taking you to his house and locking you there.

🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host holds pride in knowing how many people are at the mercy of his hand. Has a minor God complex and has this skewed mindset about how everyone else is beneath him besides you. Believes that you were made just for him and that you're his one true love. Would rather die than give you up or allow anyone to “take you away from him”. He’s like an annoying roach and almost impossible to get rid of. He’s making sure to stay with you for as long as possible.

—

Yandere! Game Show Host strides onto the stage with a wicked gaze, his piercing gaze fixed on the contestants. His voice, a chilling blend of charm and malice, booms through the speakers as he welcomes the participants with a mocking flourish. Thom who were strapped onto a table with heavy objects over their heads.

Yandere! Game Show Host: “Alright contestant number one, what is the mass of the Sun divided by Planck's constant in nanometers.

Contestant One: “HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT!?!?!”

Yandere! Game Show Host: “Unfortunately, that's not the correct answer. You’ll now be facing the consequences.” In a matter of seconds, the heavy object comes flying down with alarming speed. Upon impact, it mercilessly crushes against their skull, unleashing an overwhelming and unimaginable force that distorts bone and flesh. Yandere! Game Show Host then makes his way towards you and begins to speak.

Yandere! Game Show Host: “Alright, it's your turn now. No pressure, I know you’ll do great just take your time. Okay what’s 1 + 1?”

You: “2.”

Yandere! Game Show Host: "Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it."

Other Contestants: “What the hell!?!? How is this fair!?!!

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere game show host

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confused-pyramid · 1 month

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Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson #challengers #challengers smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x fem!reader #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x you

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