The Amount Of Miles Smut Going Around Is Ridiculous. He's A MINOR And You're Writing About Sexual Acts

Esp with Wednesday

Men writing Jenna Ortega characters is so funny because they write them like:

R: *does something cool*

Jenna's character: kiss me

CINNABUN CRUSHES (part one)

Jinx x fem! kirraman! reader

Not a lot of jinx in this chapter I'm sorry.

Reader, like always, is written to be any size or skin color.

Smart! Reader

Basically just 'gaypanic!; the sequel' just with a reader in heavy denial.

Aand if it wasn't obvious already, this is an au, semi same universe, just if it had been a lot nicer to the characters. (Mainly jinx)

Basically all of the main parts of arcane happened but like vi and jinx came to like an understanding and all of the misconceptions were cleared up. So vi spends a lot of her time with jinx, because of course she would, and spends her time secretly with cait as well. Jinx never nuked the council.

Jinx still hates Caitlyn tho, because I find that kinda funny. But (name) doesn't envolve herself in enforcer business, to busy being future head of the kirraman clan and she has never met vi or jinx. (But has listened to cait rant about them both) Caitlyn hasn't told (name) about her full relationship with vi tho, so (name) just speculates on there being one.

Silco's not dead, just heavily injured and getting treated.

(The sequel to camomile dreams if that wasn't obvious)

I own nothing! Sueing me would be a hate crime.

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╾დ╼

(Name) indeed did wake up the next morning in her plush bed, the soft fire's crackling being the sounds she wakes up to. Was it all a dream?

The young woman pulls herself out of her bed, throwing her legs over it's side nd drawing back the curtain. She had woken up in the same night gown she dreamed of, how strange. Normally, her dream clothes are the strangest and most gorgeous shade of blue.

The (haircolor)ette slides off her unusually high bed, legs buckling a little when she falls, feet slipping slightly on the hardwood floor. Damn slippers.

With her most recent dream still in her mind, the girl slowly makes her way into her grand connected bathroom. Undoing the buttons on her nightgown the further she strayed away from the soft bed.

Once in there she closes the door quickly, getting dressed without the maids or service that her mother provided. How could she have dreamed up such a 'unique' person?

Well then was she real? She attempts to recall every bit of the 'dream'. Manicured hands gripping the marble counter top as she bent over it, shaking her head in denial right after. No, she must couldn't have been.

(Name) in the dream had been a stuttering idiot. (Name) in real life, wasn't. Everything else might've been true or realistic in the dream but (name) herself, had been winning awards for being a child prodigy since she was young. Eloquent words and confident smiles had been her trademark since, well forever!

No way she would ever fumble over her words just because some pretty underground girl decided to perch on her balcony for a bit.

The young woman convinces herself of the dreams existence rather quickly after that, now dressed, the woman exits her bathroom to start her day.

╾დ╼

What is it about that girl and why couldn't (name) get her out of her head. The woman groans, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb. Her irritation growing the fuzzier her head got while she thought of her mysterious 'dream' girl. (Name) pouts a little when she realized how that last bit sounded.

All of it had been stuck in her head since she had awoken, her angry yet soft and raspy voice, sounding a little worn out and breathy as if she'd been running for miles.

(Name) remembered how suffocating the air around her was. As if the girl had lived to intimidate and tease others. (Name) remembered how shiny and blue her long lightly decorated hair had been, how she had to manually blow her large bang away from her eyes at times. Don't even get name started on her eyes, enflamed fuschia irises that looked as if she had both held all the knowledge in the world and none at all. She was so...so, so not real! She didn't even exist!

The woman shakes her head, hand returning to the book, tightening around the bound cover. She doesn't exist! She reminds herself, shaking her head again. She was created in (name)'s stupidly smart mind. A manifestation of whatever (name) feels like she's missing in life right now.

And from the way she bumbled in her dream, (name) would guess a romantic partner. Her (colored) eyes roll at the thought. She had never been in a relationship surprisingly, way too focused on improving the kirraman name further to even come close to dating anyone.

Sure, she felt crushes like everyone else and found herself fantasizing some days about having a partner and kids but that felt more like an unattainable spinoff dream than an actual future. Said crushes had never had her so tongue tied or had such a hold over her though, never. Maybe she feels like she's behind on that front and created the balcony girl to 'catch up' in a way?

Or she could be wrong and the girl could've been her want for adventure or something, she was pretty mysterious. Though the romance one is what the kirraman girl is betting on; adventure brought risks and risks could result in failure. Something (name) absolutely hated.

The woman drifts her eyes back down to the wrangler book in her hand, immediately relaxing her grip and attempting to read the words.

"I didn't know pilties came out after dark." A raspy yet sugary sweet voice, right behind her, (name) could almost feel the soft lips brush against her ears outer shell. If the (haircolored) girl tried hard enough, she could practically feel the imaginary girls delicate yet rough and quick hands drift down her shoulder, pink and blue nails raking against her arm. Her face heats up at the illusion of such touch, lips parting as a faint gasp left them. (Name) could practically feel the warmth that bubbled up in her chest.

The hands drift lower, slinking around her back and intertwining at her front. Just under her chest. (Name) lurched forward in her seat, only moving but so far before she is yanked back into compliance. Wayward spindly fingers tracing small hearts into her rapidly moving chest, soft with lunderlying predatory intentions. How could she-

She's not real!

At the revelation, the youngest kirraman snapped open her eyes, swiveling her head around to greet, nothing. The hands are gone, replaced by the cushions on the love seat. Not even the drawn curtains had been out of place, no sign of anyone other than her in the library at all. It had felt so real...

The young woman jumps out of her seat, still holding the leather bound book in both of her hands. Surveying the expanse of the room, holding the slightly heavy book out as if in a means to protect her.

But it felt so real

A sense of hopelessness washes over her, was she going crazy? The (short/tall) girl lowers her book, eyes falling downcast standing in the middle of the open and vacant library. She's not here.

I-I must've just accidentally fallen asleep and dreamt her again. (Name) nods at the reasoning, deciding to chalk it up to just a weird nap to preserve her mental state. It's okay, you've fallen asleep in weirder spots.

"(Name)?" (Name) practically jumps out of her skin. Physically feeling her soul leave her body for a few seconds. Oh, it's just Cait.

Caitlyn. Oh that's right they were supposed to go to that new bakery place today. "Coming." (Name) gives her older sister a nod, gently closing the already wrinkled book, not like she needed a placeholder. She barley got through the first page placing the book back in its rightful place on the bookshelf and following her sister out of the family library.

The younger girl reaching out to hold the orders hand. Squeezing a little as to ground herself back into the present. Cait thinks nothing of it, pulling her sister closer to her and swinging their arms as they walk side by side down the hallway.

╾დ╼

(Name) shuffles in the slightly uncomfortable seat. Fiddling with her vanilla milkshakes teaspoon, swirling it through the teacup and further ruining the once perfect whipped cream. Who puts milkshakes in teacups?

Caitlyn sits across from her, drinking a bit of her strawberry milkshake -ew gross!-, a small blush slowly overtaking her face. The (hair colored) girl smirked at her older sister's bashfulness.

Their waiter had been flirting quite blatantly with Caitlyn ever since they entered the damn sweet shop. It was a common occurrence in piltover, so (name) wasn't too surprised.

The kirraman name was pretty well known around piltover. With Cassandra being a council woman and the matriarch of the kirraman clan, Caitlyn being a very skilled marksman and (name) being a child prodigy and Cassandra's successor, it was hard to not know the kirraman name. So, it was only natural for people to come knocking on their door, begging for a chance from one (or sometimes both) of the girls. (Cassandra would shortly after practically chase them off their property from her biting words alone.)

(Name) while flustered at first has gotten used to it over the years. So much so that it doesn't even phase her anymore when some poor soul would even try their luck with the youngest kirraman. Usually Caitlyn is oblivious enough when it comes to romance that their provocative words usually just fly over her head. The bluenette focused on more enforcer-ish? Things. (Name) still can't really tell you what it is enforcers do besides accompany her places sometimes. That was more of cait's domain if she were honest.

But today was already a strange day for her and the young woman needed a distraction. So, telling Caitlyn about the semi-attractive waiter flirting with her seemed like a perfect opportunity.

(Name) bites back a smug smirk, innocently brushing her pointer finger around the rim of her milkshake. "C'mon, you're that dense caity?" The younger of the two questions.

Caitlyn clears her throat, her ears tipped red. "Shut up (name)." The older grumbles under her breath, hiding behind the curtain of her straight blue locks. All of a sudden focused on her cremé puff.

"Oh yeah," Name rolls her eyes, lifting the teacup to her lips and looking off to her side, put the window. "You like that Vi girl." At Caitlyn's embarrassed silence she decides take it one step further.

(Name) allows herself to visibly roll her eyes, licking off the excess whipped cream she'd acquired on her finger. "What? Not interested?" The girl teases, eyebrow raised in mock concern.

"You know I'm not." Caitlyn hisses, leaning over the table so nobody around them could hear her. She lifts her hand to her face quickly after.

"Yeah you are." (Name) interrupts.

Caitlyn immediately takes offense, blush rising on her cheeks while she shook her head profusely. To no avail of course. "No! Well- but i-"

(Name) shakes her head, teasing smile still on her face, hiding it behind her cup and the copious amount of whipped cream. "Don't lie caity-cat." I've forgotten how much fun teasing Caitlyn is.

"I'm not lyin-"

(Name) snorts, "Liar." The older girl sends her sister a glare, wishing she could just get sucked up into a black hole already. "Lower you voice!" Caitlyn insists.

(Name) waves her hand in a whatever motion, shrugging her shoulders a little bit to further her point. She'd never admit it aloud, but she has missed having such moments with her older sister.

The sisters, while still living under the same roof, hadn't been able to really talk in a whole year. The both of them, far too busy working on their lives and careers to sit down and converse for longer than three minutes. Caitlyn, busy working towards her desired position as an enforcer, and (name) with her responsibilities as heir to the kirraman clan.

They used to be so close, despite their decently sized age gap, and stubborn, antisocial personalities, they were each other's best friends. Not talking in so long hurt the both of them.

It's actually part of the reason they were in the coffee shop. Caitlyn, coming home all roughed up with a growing bruise that matched her hair in color knocked on (name)'s door in the middle of the night. Almost crying in relief when she saw her younger sisters tired and annoyed face when she opened the door.

After spending her afternoon (night? Caitlyn couldn't tell) with the dysfunctional sisters, (who'd thankfully come to a non lethal and desired conclusion) the oldest kirraman daughter realized that she took her own younger sister for granted a few times herself. Suddenly aware of how long it has been since they last talked. Hm, maybe that tea party from hell actually had some benefits.

After that, it seemed like their gradual distance, just faded away. They stayed in (name)'s room all night, the two of them giggling like schoolgirls into the wee hours of the morning. And agreed to talk to each other at least once a day, never wanting their relationship to get that strained again.

"I- (name)!" Caitlyn's blush grows even darker when (name) makes kissy faces, wanting nothing more than to simply throttle her younger sister.

"Oh Vee! Your lips taste heavenly-" (name)'s voice raised several octaves, sounding akin to that of a squeaky british chew toy.

"We've never- I- my voice does not sound like that! And it's Vi!" Caitlyn obviously took offense to the blatant caricature. Her sulking interrupted by the younger girl once more.

"Feast your eye's upon my bulging yet stiff muscles my darling cupcake!" (Name) could barley get the sentence out, having to put her tea cup down as a small laughing fit overcame her. The absurdity of her words pared with the embarrassed yet pissed look on her sisters face growing too much for her.

She laughed so hard that her ribs hurt, having to shakily put one hand over her chest while the other covered her mouth. Almost choking multiple times while she attempted to calm herself down. Aware of the sudden eyes that were now on the both of them. Moms gonna have a fit.

Caitlyn's face did the impossible, growing an even darker red in color as she tried to silence the girl across from her.

Soon enough, after a couple minutes more, (name) calmed down, and caitlyn's red face turned back to normal. The semi- peaceful atmosphere returned, though the (haircolored) girl had to reorder for a drink to soothe her now irritated throat.

"Serves you right." Caitlyn pouted, still not really over the teasing.

"You knew it would come eventually." (Name) snarked right back at her. Taking a sip of the ginger tea given to her, the hot beverage helping her raspy throat.

Caitlyn shrugged, giving a single nod at the statement. She definitely did.

╾დ╼

Name lays face up in her bed, head resting on the multiple fluffy pillows, hand conjoined just under her chest. Her (eyecolored) eyes staring up at her painted ceiling in wonder.

She can't sleep.

The (haircolor) turns over on her side with a huff. Tucking her arm under the pillow. She doesn't want to go out onto her balcony either this time, still not over the dream girl from last time. Plus, she already finished her book and now has to wait til the next day to get another, so she'd be bored out there anyway.

After their 'sister bonding time' Caitlyn had dropped (name) off at home. Apparently, she had a date with vi so Caitlyn had left (name) to her own devices for the next couple of hours.

(Caitlyn didn't know that 'name' knew, still attempting keeping their budding relationship under wraps. She's not very good at it though.)

(Name) hadn't minded of course, happy that her older sister was happy, so she just made sure to keep their mom busy. Distracting Cassandra with long winded questions that the (hair colored) girl already knew the answer to to further stall time.

After Caitlyn returned of course, (name) had taken a shower, and practically ran to bed. Using the excuse of her being 'suddenly tired', in reality she just didn't want to be in her mothers vicinity encase Caitlyn blew it.

(Name) gives a small huff, rolling her eyes and turns onto her other side.

Just outside her canopy, her balcony door rattles. The noise itself driving the girl on the bed out of her thoughts, a soft, unheard gasp leaving her.

(Name) sits up quickly in her bed, clutching the comforter closer to her chest, small twinges of fear growing the longer the seconds drew on. Part of her wants to dive under the covers and hide there until morning. But that's childish, there's no such thing as monsters. Still, the (haircolor-ette) draws her body closer in on itself, attempting to make herself smaller while she listened on.

Silence.

A prolonged silence.

She was being stupid. There's no such thing as a monster.

It was most likely the wind. (Name) takes a small breath, acknowledging the puerile situation. But then again, the wind can't knock against doors.

Sleep. The startled heir tells herself, your just tired.

And so, she tugs the covers impossibly further towards her body. Laying her weary head against a soft pillow and closes her eyes, forces her mind to rest as she tires herself out.

Just outside her balcony, large blue braids whip around the corner. Leaving a small, delicately crafted gift near the door, for its new owner to find in the morning.

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call me old fashioned, but i was born to serve luxanna crownguard. cook for her, make her breakfast, clean the house, have a hot meal ready when she gets home, and do her laundry. if she cheats, that’s on me. she caught ME slipping and i will apologize and do better 

I love her sm

the true queen of westeros

Playing scrabble with the guards

reader: I will put an A down for A

felix: I will add a T to make AT

alec: I will add onto your AT to make RAT

jane *being a lil shit*: i will add onto your rat to make BIOSTRATIGRAPHIC

demitri: *flips board*

felix: god dammit.

happy birth to my one and only

We’re so used to the sexual reading of the entire book of Dracula, which takes the sensuality of the early chapters and jams everything that follows it into the same metaphor no matter how poorly it fits, but I feel the segment we’re approaching works much better with a lens of chronic illness and disease.

Vampire legends are inextricably intertwined with disease. Many of them are said to have been birthed by burying victims of disease too soon, who later seem to rise from the dead. But what’s more is that Stoker and his family have deep-seated trauma over disease: his mother had to flee her hometown at the age of 14 because of a horrific cholera epidemic, and Stoker himself was bedridden as a child from an illness that no one could identify.

Found this quote from Irish Historian Mary McGarry:

Bram as an adult asked his mother to write down her memories of the epidemic for him, and he supplemented this using his own historic research of Sligo’s epidemic. Scratching beneath the surface (of this essay), I found parallels with Dracula. [For instance,] Charlotte says cholera enters port towns having traveled by ship, and can travel overland as a mist—just like Dracula, who infects people with his unknown contagion.

I bring this up because a lot of academic analysis insists that Lucy sleepwalking is proof of her being the Slutty Woman archetype that needs to be punished. This suggested symbolism is hilarious when put next to the text saying she inherited it from her father, but I’d like to suggest a different angle from the lens of disease suggested earlier:

Lucy’s sleepwalking is a condition that predates Dracula but makes her an easy target for him to prey on. Through the lens of disease symbolism, she now is someone with chronic illness or disability who is especially vulnerable to infectious disease. This becomes a cross-section of Stoker’s trauma regarding disease: his own mystery illness and his mother fleeing a plague.

To wind down my rambles with a bit of a soapbox, I feel this adds a very poignant layer to the struggle to keep Lucy alive. The COVID pandemic showed a horrifying level of casual ableism vs disabled and immunodeficient individuals, shrugging off their vulnerability and even their deaths with “well COVID only kills them.” There’s something deeply gratifying at seeing the way everyone around Lucy fights to the bitter end to protect her and refuses to just give her up to Dracula, whether it’s Mina physically chasing him away or the suitor squad pouring their blood into her veins or Van Helsing desperately searching for cures. The vulnerable deserve no less than this. They’re not acceptable casualties.

Fuck it, this is a Tara Markov safe space.

I feel like something that gets little left behind when people discuss Caitlyn gassing Zaun is that, while yes, gas doesn't discriminate between innocent and criminal, child and adult, and that some Zaunites are forced into a life of crime to make ends meet so it's not entirely their fault-- Um, are we forgetting who makes the laws? It's important to me that we acknowledge that Piltover decides who is a criminal, decides what is undue retaliation (the Day of Ash, Jinx blowing the gas back into Piltover), and decides the punishment, which is often more severe than the "crime" or the retaliation. I just have a problem with the rhetoric that "some criminals are people!🥺" bc ALL "criminals" are people. The justice system in Arcane is just as flawed as it is in real life, can we think for just a moment that "criminal" doesn't mean "bad person" it just means they're in violation of state laws, which are often unjust and discriminatory. Like the state's definition of what makes someone a criminal is specifically designed to lock away and enslave minorities. (This is why fictional societies that are extremely egalitarian about race often fall flat, because it's not written from a place of respect, its from a place of discomfort.) Okay thank you.

"what's wrong with my pants?"

"nothing babe come back to bed"