#i'm usually the end of these chains lol
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amidnightqueery · 8 months ago
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I don't hate my job or anything, but man, being a float educator is so fucking thankless
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invinciblerodent · 4 months ago
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Omg your davrin doll is so cute!! He looks so polite ❤️❤️ i love the way you did the hair also, you are incredible at this tbh also i see the vallaslin on there its so cool!
Aaah, thank you, that's so sweet!! 😊😊
❤️Linking my post of him because why now, it's self-promo time❤️
I'm so happy that the vallaslin picks up (it needed to be pared down HARD because of sizing issues), but I'm actually so pleased with the hair!
If you don't mind me rambling a bit about crocheting, hair is usually the toughest part for me to figure out (particularly in cases like this, when the hair length and texture doesn't really match the style people usually tend to make dolls in), but I think I came up with a pretty fun solution this time. (It's a round piece with curls added only to the stitches that were to become the front of his hairline, and then I added zig-zag rows of surface slip stitches onto the "crown" of his head in a triangle shape, so I could then add the individual curls in varying lengths into those stitches. After that, extending the sides down and decreasing to match his hairline around the back of his neck was honestly so satisfying.
That's kind of what I like the most about amigurumi- figuring out how to translate recognizable designs into such a versatile, but limited medium, lol. ❤️
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alllgator-blood · 2 months ago
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I don't usually do anything for pride month cause I'm fruity every day of the year, but ahhh let's just say this year it felt especially important. Hope everyone is doing safe and that your ally friends/family members are giving you all their worldly possessions + sacrificing heretics in your name! I actually drew a very similar picture last year but didn't end up finishing it, some of the flags were definitely different though. NARINDER HAD THE EVIL AUTISM FLAG FOR SOME REASON. Shamura was the only one I finished so I'll just drop them off here:
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Wow look at them go, rejecting humanity and encompassing cosmic knowledge and ceaseless war rather than masculinity or femininity....what an icon
Over the year that I've been in this fandom, I've had a lot of thoughts about Shamura's gender that I'll dump here, I WILL SAY it gets more ranty than I've ever gotten on this blog + talks about the fandom itself, so I hid it under the cut. But I feel like I've been pretty tame on this blog so far and because it's pride month, I have the legal right to make ONE rant about a queer fictional character's perception by the fandom
My weak enby heart still has a fucking death grip on shamura that hasn't been loosened in over a year at this point. They're not the best nonbinary representation in media but they're MY FAVORITE and that's all that matters. I can't stress how awesome it felt playing an actually cool, fun game a couple years ago and seeing that the Wisest, Most Powerful Eldritch Beast in all the land was a disabled nonbinary person. And it goes completely without question, it's like yeah that's shamura and *they're* going to traumadump on you and mind control your followers to rebel against you. Don't even worry about it bro
Being like....nonbinary and disabled and native and butch and yadda yadda, I swear to god I just got used to having no media/characters I could relate to. I didn't even think about how bad it felt until I'd stumble into the odd comic or indie game that had a Diverse Cast that MAY feature someone like me, but generally those types of things don't really *do* much with those characters. Not to be like THEY JUST WANT BROWNIE POINTS but...uhhh.........is it so bad to say that sometimes it does feel that way lmao, I won't play your game or read your comic if I feel like you see me as a checkbox to tick rather than a person with a fundamentally different experience.
I'll take this time to say it is kind of disheartening to see the fandom's treatment of shamura's gender sometimes, as someone who uses exclusively they/them. I've got a thick fucking skin, I've publicly acknolwedged I was genderless since before the nonbinary flag was even made, I've had a lot of time to roll with the punches that inevitably come from being trans. But literally one of the first comments I ever got about my shamura headcanons (when I still posted on reddit like a year ago) was that they didn't like that I made them AFAB and said "why can't they just be completely genderless". Like...making the TRANS character TRANSITION at some point was a bad thing? I wasn't saying "they're a girl in my drawings lol" and I even explained that I made them AFAB so I could connect with them better but. Ough
I s2g just mentioning this character brings up arguments, same with the lamb to a lesser extent, but DO NOT look at the reply chains on the youtube uploads of ANY of shamura's songs. It's always that someone calls them a him or her, someone corrects them, someone crucifies that person for being the Woke Police, blah blah blah IT'S AWFUL. It's funny in a way that the mere presence of a nonbinary person is enough to start a small war, but it also feels dehumanizing to know that my gender just cannot respectfully be talked about the same way binary genders can.
While I'm still talking about this, I don't hold it against people who played the game in other languages and call shamura "he" or w/e because from their perspective, the character is male. I've not changed my perspective of the character because I found out they're male in other releases, so I can readily accept that those folks won't either. But it feels....gross to see people who played it in english who just picked whatever binary gender they wanted shamura to be and went with that. Literally every single character with a confirmed gender is male except like, Heket + Forneus + Monch, so to take the ONE undebatably nonbinary character and decide they're not good enough the way they are is....ough. "It's my headcanon" bro that's erASURE IDK HOW ELSE TO TELL YOU. The people doing it probably literally do not comprehend what it's like to never see themself in the media they consume so I don't hate them or anything, but it took me like two decades to find a character whose gender feels like mine. It's lonely out here man
There's something to be said about me talking about that while making my kallamar nonbinary, but I'll just say this: there are so, so many male characters out there. If there was a crowd of millions of characters and ONE GUY vanished, you wouldn't be able to tell. But if there was like...a broom closet with like 9 they/thems, you'd fuckin notice if one was gone. AND I DO. Nonbinary representation isn't good enough rn to be taking the very few they/them characters out there and being like "nope my headcanon is that you're just some guy/chick", especially when sooo many people do it. Me taking one sopping wet man out of that crowd and being like "you can still be a sopping wet man, but sometimes you're a girlfail and sometimes your gender is squid" isn't the same I don't feel, otherwise I wouldn't have done it. I can't stop anyone from making shamura binary, we're all just random internet artists and do as we please, but I'm still allowed to judge from afar. I've definitely had people judge my headcanons from afar lmao
edit: I walked away and had to run back because I need reiterate, if you give Shamura features that are seen as "binary" but keep them nonbinary I think it's cool and based, especially if you are also nonbinary and just want to connect with the character more. "Gendered features" or w/e that are on a nonbinary person don't detract from their nonbinary-ness and we don't owe anyone perfect androgyny. I have boobs and an hourglass shape but also a lot of body hair + mustache and a good amount of muscle mass, doesn't mean I'm more girly or manly.
Okay end of rant, I had to get that off my chest for like EVER tbh. I really really hate discourse or drama or w/e but this is a topic that does mean a lot to me, so I made an exception this one time to make my opinion known.
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moon-ttokki-x · 5 months ago
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stylist!reader x seungmin or jeongin??? any scenario!!
hi hi~ i needed more seungmin and jeongin requests . . . been wanting to write for them so bad but i couldn't think of anything lol . anyway, here you goo~~~
₊✩‧₊˚ stylist!reader x kim seungmin ˚₊✩‧₊
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pairing: stylist!reader x kim seungmin
summary: being seungmin's stylist has its perks (mostly)
genre: idol!au, stylist!au, cheeky boy, soft and fluffy, mentions of jyp (yes that needs a warning), please bring back doberman seungmin he was my fav :(
a/n: sorry idk who made this divider . . . if it was you lmk so i can tag and credit u <3
skz masterlist
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you have to drag him everywhere
like by his literal collar
or whatever it is that he's wearing
bc this man does not want to walk
like
anywhere
drag him to the mirror, drag him behind a curtain to fix his outfit
it never ends
and he moves around a lot too while you're doing his makeup
more than once you've gotten chan to hold his jaw shut so you can powder it or fix up his contour
and he always stares at you while you do it
with his little meanie face
you know the one he makes where he's trying to be scary but it doesn't work on anyone so he's just like >:|
yeah that one
complains a lot about his appearance to piss you off
'i don't like the eye makeup' 'i hate this shirt'
it never ends but you're used to it so he kind of gives up after a while
when you got assigned to him, he would stare into your eyes while you were doing his makeup to try and make you fumble
bc let's be honest no one could focus if kim seungmin was staring into their soul
but you got used to that too and now you just ignore it
you always get him to tell you how he's feeling on a certain day so you can sort of match his outfit and makeup to his vibe
if he's in a good mood, lots of scarlet reds and brighter colours
if he's just neutral, then dewy pinks and purples
and if he's having a bad day, lots of metallic silver and black
of course his appearance still has to match the other members' vibes
but you always try to make it a little more special
seungmin would never admit it but he appreciates that so much
most of your job is just looking for him to be honest
like man literally disappears and gets distracted by the tiniest things
there's a bird outside? gone
hyunjin has his back turned and is therefore vulnerable to attack? gone
there's no reason for him to go anywhere?
gone
you've debated putting a tracker in his outfit like a literal dog but you decided against it because it's like playing hide and seek
which is kinda fun
usually he's busy doing something random or looking out the window
or pissing his members off
if worst comes to worst and you can't find him, you just threaten to call chan and he materialises out of thin air
which is kinda funny
and when he won't stay still to let you fix his outfit, you threaten to dress him like jyp
that always works lmao
he just goes absolutely rigid and his eyes go all wide
'please don't'
and you'll just fix his collar or his boots or whatever and off he goes again
multiple times you've told him to put accessories on before he goes on stage
but he always forgets
you've had to drag him backstage countless times before the group went on to perform bc he's forgotten to do what you said
you'll have super steady and nimble hands after a while bc trying to clip a chain necklace on a hyped-up puppy boy is one of the hardest things
like ever
he's just raring to go lol
always runs up to you after performing all sweaty and excited
'did you see me? when i did that move'
or something along those lines
he truly is so soft and sweet but he'll never admit it
and you'll nod and he's have the biggest shiniest prettiest boy smile on his face
stop i'm sad
most of the time he sweats all of his makeup off
and then sheepishly bows to you and apologises for ruining all your hard work
but you shake your head and tell him with a smile that it's fine
and it is, really
he looks hotter when he's all sweaty
huh? what
i didn't say anything
yes i did
after he's warmed up to you
and it takes a while, i'm gonna be completely honest
he refuses to let anyone else do his hair, makeup, or outfit
he just wants you
because you always make sure he can dance properly in his outfit, and that his hair isn't in his eyes, or that he likes his makeup
you would never make him wear anything that makes him uncomfortable either
you're always asking for his input on certain outfit ideas and he tells you honestly what he thinks
and you just take his feedback and make outfits for him that he'll be comfortable in
which makes him swoon for you
again, he would never say anything to you about how he's starting to feel
maybe one day, he thinks he might be able to
until then, he'll settle for looking at your pretty face while you do your thing <3
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a/n: yomg i wanna be a skz stylist so baddd (seungmin if ur reading this one chance pls)
ttokki's taglist: @emilywhyyy @galaxy4489 @hyuneskkami @justsomekpopstuff @wavetohannie @strayingawayy @its-stayville-forever @batty-barty-crouchjr @wickedbutlovely @headfirstfortoro @lov3yv4mps @possum-playground @bear8585
send a dm, comment under the taglist post, or send an ask to be added !
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pushingdaisies1 · 7 months ago
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ok so i'm new to your blog so i'm not 100% sure how you usually do requests but I would kill for a fic where the reader gets an injury (not life threatening) patched up by another character. Dae-ho came to my mind first tbh but you could literally do whoever. i'm not sure if you do multiple characters in one post or not so take this request however you like!
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"Dont look at me with those eyes" . . . ♡
. ⟣ㅤㅤ˳ㅤㅤ︵︵ㅤ ୨ ୧ ㅤ︵︵ㅤㅤˑㅤㅤ⟢ ,
-> PAIRING: Kang Dae-Ho (Player 388) x Reader! -> SUMMARY: Falling into these games was like a hard-hitting reminder of your status on the food chain. Always the one to sell yourself out and break yourself completely to help loved ones make it up to the top. You were the lowest of the low, a runt. A runt with a big and burning heart. But meeting Dae-ho was like a soft blanket being wrapped around you. In your first interaction alone, even though you were playing with your lives, he was like a beacon of strangely placed hope. Soon becoming acquainted with the "quickly assembled" team Mr. Player 456 (Seong Gihun) had formed, you had found quick allies with the group of men and Jun-hee. After the third game, you had taken a pretty bad blow to your leg from another scattering player. Dae-ho notices, and knows that he can't let a partner limp back without lending a helping hand. That made you like him so much, he was a helpful, hopeful fool. It made your teeth grind against other teeth as you watched him care for you so carefully. You were almost like glass in his hands. -> WARNINGS: Descriptions of violence (mingle was brutal), Not entirely proof read.., Descriptions and talks of injured/dislocated ankle, I use y/n like once LOL, I kinda fudged the "rules" of the second game don't mind that heh, I don't know how to treat wounds so it WILL be incorrect!, angst(?), Dae-ho being a cutie patootie!! -> AUTHORS NOTE: Aghhh first ever request, I love this idea, and tysm for sending one in! Dae-ho became a quick favorite of mine, especially after the fourth episode. He's so sweet and the most gentle character in the show. I love his vulnerability and warmth as an ex-marine and clear victim of toxic masculinity in his life. He's genuinely a top favorite of mine. I do apologize if this is a tad bit too long for anybody's tastes. I had a lot of fun with this request as you can see heh. I'll be using him (Dae-ho) for this one, but yes for reference next time ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗I don't mind doing multiple characters in one request <3!! Don’t be afraid to send in other characters , enjoy.. ^_^
. ─── ୨ৎ ─────── ୨ৎ ─────── ୨ৎ ─── ' . The fact that you had survived past the first and second games was shocking. You hadn't expected to see players littered down with bullets when playing a game calling back to your younger days. One by one it was like watching chickens be plucked from the coop. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you tried your hardest to stay as still as possible. Thank the heavens you didn't end up in front of the so-called "rap legend" who was pushing people left and right. In your held-back panic, you had found a point of focus. A specific player amongst the herd had more so shouted for people to stand behind others taller than them.
Stay crouched down behind the back of another and the doll shouldn't recognise your movement. As hurried steps padded against the sandy ground, you found yourself lined up behind a taller man. His hair was pulled up halfway, with a tiny ponytail atop his head. If you weren't in a life-or-death scenario you would've had a nice quick chuckle about it. His stature was easy to hide behind in the hurried chaos. As others were being shot down among the organized crowd, your feet had almost lost footing. Your stance had faltered after someone directly behind you had gotten shot by one of the sniper perks. You felt your legs begin to tremble as your back was littered with the victim's blood.
You were so close to ruining this somewhat assorted line when you felt a hand clasp your wrist. Shockingly you didn't jerk out of line, it was in actuality a steadying grip. In quick succession, he'd murmur to you, a stranger behind him. "I got you, just keep l-looking ahead." Even though his voice was trembling he still sounded like a courageous hero to you. So quickly you were able to steady your legs, and before you could hesitate anymore it was time to move. Reaching across the finish line was like a breath of fresh air. Pretty much getting all the air knocked back into your lungs. You couldn't have fallen harder against the ground after you had thrown yourself over. Locking eyes with the young man that was standing beside you. He was almost cracking a carefree smile as he soon realized that he'd too made it out alive.
Seeing you on the ground he immediately offered you a hand. If this was all in a different context, you would've been feeling more butterflies in your chest than you already had. But you had almost died just a couple seconds ago. You were grateful for his steady hands, so you hopped at the opportunity to have him pull you up on your feet.
In hindsight, you probably looked like a nut job as specks of sand littered the jacket you and every other player adorned. His grip was firm as he excitedly shook your hand. "You were a tough one out there! I'm glad to see you make it." He said with a beaming smile. The announcements drowned out your thoughts as players' numbers were being called out with their eliminations.
Your eyes were a lot more shaky as you nodded your head in response and recognition. "It's in all thanks to you. You practically saved my life. I am forever in your debt.." Words trailing off as you didn't know his name, at all. He probably had the name of an action hero or a true trailblazer. Was luck finally on your side? Did you make a friend in this horrifying ordeal?
Everything was buzzing all around between the two of you. The doll Young-hee repeats the same two phrases over and over again. As your surroundings became pure noise, you found comfort in focusing on his face and its features. His grip on your hand with firm, giving you one final good squeeze as your hands fell to your own respective sides. "Kang, Kang Dae-ho." He had this almost palpable warmth. It made you feel all mushy on the inside for unknown reasons. You'd let out a sigh of almost relief as your lip quivered. "Thank you for saving my life, Kang Dae-ho." Your eyes grew glazed over with unshed tears. No regular person has ever been this close to death. A completely and utterly helpful stranger just saved you. Your chest was pounding with emotion but there was no time for that. The timer was quicking ticking down and both of your attentions were collectively drawn to the scene in front of you.
The "freeze" man from before and a woman both tried to carry over an injured player. The triumphant moment was killed as people erupted into cheers, and the injured soul was shot for the final time in the head. The first game came and went. The prize money was introduced and soon the stakes were raised. Voting amongst the players was almost coming too close to starting a fight. Some people wanted to leave off the bat.
After witnessing the carnage and violence being displayed in only the first game out of six. So many lives were lost, and the prize money shined like a golden nugget. It was like the largest golden ticket out of tremendous piles of debt. Which you were suffering with.
So even with protests and bated breaths, your fist firmly pressed down onto the 'O' button. You wore it like a badge of shame on your chest. A reminder of your shameless greed, judgemental stares burned into the back of your head. When people dispersed and went to different areas around the room, you were somber. You felt shameful as you contemplated your decision.
It was so close to a tie. Your vote could've done so much. But your debt wouldn't have been fixed. You would still have creditors hounding after you for your money. You were screwed either way. The jacket was large enough for you to be able to burry yourself inside of it , in both shame and fatigue.
You were shocked that they were handing out containers of food. With how sightly sickening the first game was. But ya' know, have to keep the prized pigs well-fed to continue on. You slunk back as you immediately dug into the food you were given. You weren't focusing on taste or texture. It tasted like home, so you didn't hesitate to scarf it down in quick succession. Your eyes looked in front of you, examining the walls and the layers of beds. Players either sat by themselves eating what they had , or were already starting to make connections with other poor unfortunate souls. Something caught your eye as you were people-watching. A group of game participants, who had voted the same as you did were walking over to the previous player. You could remember the desperation that clung to his voice. Especially when other players were brushing off his words during the voting. You saw that same familiar face who also risked his life to save yours. It was the most commotion in the room. Leaving your tin and your half-drunken water bottle on your mattress, you scooted off and gently found your footing. You placed one shoe in front of the other as you watched players dispersing away, the sounds coming from them not pleasant ones. What could've been said to make that many people storm off with such unpleasant looks on their faces?
You approached the men with skittish hands and determination in your mind. Alliances and teaming up with players may be the utmost needed in these games. Making friendly with someone whos played these children's games before could give you and others the boost needed to survive. Player 390 sounded determined as well. Especially talking up his friend as a previous player. Or... were they friends? The man just seemed like a friendly soul.
As Dae-ho was addressing the men with profound respect and camaraderie, you sort of appeared beside him. "I'm sorry to interrupt but..." Dae-hos eyes expanded when seeing you, his hand meeting your back in a rather firm pat. "Ah! , Have you come to join our team as well?" Your cheeks grew warm as suddenly you were on the spot. But admittedly that was your fault. "I-I- I heard the commotion over here, are you looking for one more person?" Your voice was small and meek. '456' looked at you, his eyes cold with glimpses of warmth in those pupils. To the looks of it, it appeared like he was trying to give you room to speak. "No matter the game, having allies is always good to have. You seem like a group of good men... I don't want to die so soon. Please, your consideration would mean the most."
'001' cracked a small smile. "I don't have a problem with it." His voice was smooth ... almost hollow. You didn't focus on demeanor, only happy to see such graciousness. '456' bit back a sigh, his face a little less solemn after watching the scene in front of him between Dae-ho and player '390.' Both their sleeve rolled up, showing off their similar Marine tattoos. Before he could get a word in, you spoke up once again. "I voted to continue on because of you. You surely have enough wisdom to carry the players participating. My vote wasn't one out of malice. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place-" He put a hand out to stop you from talking anymore. "You don't need to explain yourself to me. I have no problem with you joining us, you seem to be a good kid." You took his words and ran with it. Dae-ho couldn't help but chime in. "I ran into them in the first game! They are as courageous as an ex-marine like myself." Your eyes expanded in utter confusion, no? "I'm flattered but-" '390' cut you off with a broad smile. "It's settled then, we are a full team! It is nice to meet you." The conversation was pulled away once so quickly a fight broke out. Player '001' stepped in to stop the fight once player 390 and Dae-ho stood back. You felt even safer grouping up with the four as you watched the older man quiet up the so-called 'Thanos' and his friend. Maybe you would leave the next game with your head still on your shoulders. In the dead of night, Dae-ho made sure to remind you about what the next game most likely would be. You tried to be the most quiet you could be as you made your way out of your bunk.
Why was he being so nice to you? You didn't expect to find somebody with such a welcoming atmosphere in the surroundings you were.. momentarily stuck in until the next vote. Sleep came and went, the first game haunting your mind. You may have been only able to get one to two hours of sleep at most. Trying to be as positive as you could be for this new day. Dalgona shouldn't be so bad.
When the second game was officially revealed your mind took a sharp turn to "I'm screwed." But still, your team stuck together. It couldn't be Dalgona if they were having players pair together in teams. Still though, with a previous player in the team mix, everything should go off smoothly.
Since he has seen this all before one way or another. The trust was already palpable amongst each other, you make this game your bitch. Player '222' was a happily added addition. You couldn't help but immediately clamor at having her join. The clock was already down to one minute. There was little time to spare to find one more person to finish up your group. She looked to be very capable, and it was immoral to leave a pregnant woman with no team. Soon the game was explained, as well as the inclusion of minigames in between.
You were one of the last teams. So you all took the time to watch every person's strategies and techniques. Especially the teams who actually.. made it out alive.
Victory at all costs! , player '390' had you all say as you joined hands atop of one another. Finally, you were brought up to have your ankles latched together. Since you were one of the last teams competing, there was no audience. But fewer distractions meant more focus for minigames that needed ample attention. Right beside player '222' you made sure to help her when she was losing her footing. Her eyes always glanced back to you when along with the others you'd ask if she was okay. Especially having a mighty hand at ddakji! With barely any time your team made it out alive. Once again the moment was killed by the sound of gunfire. Watching as the guards lay bullets into the team you were expecting to see finish alongside. You all were just glad you made it out alive. Coming back into the main room, the energy in the room was bubbling for conflict. You and your fellow teammates fell back to the side, introducing yourselves and getting closer to one another. When the vote was incoming you knew you weren't going to pick the option you had picked yesterday. But, if you were stuck playing one more game with these people, you felt your odds were better than before. As the masked guards came in to congratulate the players on the game, voting started up soon after. The piggy bank was a still painful reminder of what was at stake. All the money that equaled people's lives. Something in your gut was telling you that the vote wasn't going to end in your group's favor. But still, you walked up to the box, your hand pressing firmly on the 'X' button. Your hand quickly yanked off the patch on your chest to trade it out. You felt like some of the guilt lifted off your shoulders. The money was at least enough to pay off a good chunk of your debts. Getting out of here would mean you could find a way to spend your money smarter while your heart was still beating.
Filling into the 'X' side of the room, you saw that the 'O' vote count only went up and up. It made you feel almost queasy seeing the blue side of the room get larger and larger.
You stood right beside Dae-ho as your hands lingered towards his. His pinkie wrapped gently around yours, almost like a comforting gesture.
Maybe it was out of pity you had no clue on your mind. The bunched-up group waited with bated breath to see if maybe the vote would change in favor. Your face showed your shock and hurt, similar to the others on your side. One more game meant more bodies to be left astray. The air was palpable with hurt as the guards pulled back, announcing that a third game would be happening soon. Even though Jung-bae was a part of the major vote, you all still tried to stay positive. Especially on Young-Ils intervention as Gi-hun lamented about the ferociousness of the potential third game. Lights out soon came, the piggy bank in the middle giving the dark and depressing room a warm glow.
Your team had made a fort amongst the empty beds of the fallen players. You found some sort of peace as you and Dae-oh slept side by side in that compact space under the bed. Having a warm body next to you was nice in these trying times.
Morning came quicker than you had expected. Young-Il was already awake as you all arose from sleep. Like clockwork, the guards came in and escorted all the players to the next game. Some were more excited than others, you were currently just trying to keep your head steady. The pleasant conversation was killed once you all got higher up the long and winding staircases. After taking all that time you were finally brought to the third game. The doors in front of you opened as the guards filled out into the room. This new room was large and almost too grand. Its walls were a warm pale yellow with grand designs. You had all pretty much walked inside a large music box. In the middle of there stood tall a carousel. The PA system introduced the game, Mingle. Jung-bae had familiarity with the game, describing it as a game to pass the time on school trips. The team began to talk about potential strategy and game specifics. "What if it is smaller than five? Like three ... or four?" Dae-ho croaked out in response. You'd turn to him with a focused look in your eye. "We should be able to split off evenly if it's three." Everyone in recognition as Young-Il spoke up. "No matter what happens don't panic. Let's stay calm." "We'll all make it out together, here." On queue, his hand fell out in front of everyone huddled up. One by one all your hands fell atop of each other. The last one to finish up this was Gi-hun, and soon came the "One - Two - Three."
Quickly everyone was ushered onto the platform, and then the game would officially begin. The lights in the room would become harsher and more dramatic as the music started up, and soon would the spinning platform. As the PA system explained beforehand, numbers started to be called out. Ten was easy as you and another familiar group consisting of the older woman, her son, and the two other girls rushed into a room. Relief took over your bones and your bunch had made it in a room just in time. Horrified screams and shouts for mercy could be heard just outside the door. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest cavity as the locks rhythmically unlocked. Soon all players were now back atop the platform. The slow spinning motion of the large circle was almost sickening; when your eyes focused on the littered blood. But feeling Dae-hos hand firmly hold your shoulder, you snapped back into reality. The whirring motions abruptly stopped, causing you to barely lose your balance. The familiar monotone female voice of the PA system clicked to life, "Four." Immediately the lights started to flash, and your head jerked around to look at your other teammates. Counting heads, you all wouldn't have fit into one room of course. Without getting gunned down by the eventual guards. Gi-hun tried to say something but Young-Il already was grabbing your hand, shouting for two more people. Jung-bae already took the initiative as he pulled Jun-hee and guided the others into a vacant room. A scuffle happened amid the panicking players. You and Young-il had found two other players able to fill the room. But another man tried to push in, inevitably shoving you out of the room. Young-il looked like he was able to do something but in the scuffle, your leg met the man's chest. It was a swift kick with a pop ringing in your ears. With seconds to spare, Young-Il dragged you into the room and slammed the door shut. His eyes looked to you showing some semblance of pity. Even with the mortified voices outside and gun fodder, he looked towards you. "Are you alright?" You nodded as you readjusted your back pressed up against the wall. "Yeah, I'm okay ... he wasn't letting up." Trying to crack a joke clearly didn't work for the mood in the room. The two other players stayed silent, lips trembling with fear as a nightmare happened beyond the door. Young-Il gave you a glimpse of the smile before offering you a hand. "Here, that didn't sound pretty." He replied calmly as he helped you keep steady on your better leg. Soon everyone was let out of their respective rooms once again. The counter on the wall is now down to "168." On the other side of the room, you and Young-Il excited. Even as much as you tried to resist his help your leg was stinging like hell. The distant voices of Jung-bae and Dae-ho could be heard. "Brother Young-Il, Y/n!" Along with your other fellow teammates. Young-Il flashed his teeth in a smile as he called back. "Gi-hun!" You two rushed back together, you slightly lagging behind him. But he didn't seem to take any mind to it. In fact, trying to make sure you didn't damage your injured leg any more than it already was. You were met with the sight of your relieved friends. Jung-bae was immediately joyously welcoming the two of you back. "I was worried, I'm glad you two made it back." Gi-hun addressed the two of you. Young-Il had the biggest charismatic grin on his face.
"I'm a social guy, so I'm pretty good at these kinds of games." You chuckled alongside Jung-bae as the air around you all settled. This calm was weird but it was welcomed by you. "I just kinda held on tight and hoped I wouldn't get trampled along the way, seems like it works." Jung-bae nodded firmly as he patted your back, the wind leaving your lungs. "It sure did! I knew you two would make it out in one piece, I did." Dae-hos eyes wandered to your limp. He frowned at the sight of you holding back simmering pain. It all kinda just mixed into the worry already present on his face. But the joke Young-Il made definitely eased up tension. "Ohh... In her tummy?" It was a perfectly timed response to even get Gi-hun to let out some tension with a laugh. You felt well about this entire ordeal, seeing the warmth in everyone's faces. The next round was about to begin. Dae-ho turned his attention to you, pointing down to your leg. "Eh? - what happened with you?" His eyes showed genuine worry. He didn't want to lose you... maybe. "I'm fine, I just got caught up in the crowd when me and Young-Il were trying to find others." You tried to wave off his concerns, but he would place a reassuring hand on your arm, gently squeezing the bicep. "Your leg looks pretty torn up, on second thought don't look down. The sight before him was a bone prodding at the skin of your ankle. This wasn't good, you needed to be able to run! His breathing was panicked as his eyes darted around. "I-please be careful, it doesn't look so good. L-let me help you relieve pressure on it, hop." His arm extended for you to hold onto it. You gritted your teeth as you linked your arm with his. One foot, two foot repeated in your head as every remaining player returned to the platform. The numbers continued to be announced. Three, Six, and then Two. You didn't expect yourself to survive the last one. But a girl... You had seen her before hanging out with the guy who called himself Thanos. She had practically thrown you into a room. As the door clicked shut you finally could relax your one leg against the wall. She didn't really say much to you. "Thank you... thank you." You repeated, and your head nodded also repeatedly. "We saved each other, so thank - you." She replied.
Her tone was brief and almost bitter but who wouldn't be after witnessing what they had witnessed. Finally, it was all over, this game of doom. The walk down the stairs was brutal on your ankle. Your mind was so focused on the burning pain that you could only listen to somewhat of what Dae-ho was saying ... for ... moral support?
Quickly he swooped his arm back under yours. As players filled into the room , this was a moment of rest. Jung-bae was already counting the heads of players. So at the moment it was best to lay low and wait at the side lines. Perfect for Dae-ho to help you. Bringing you off to the main steps of the beds , he ushered you to sit.
“Okay! Thank you mother hen…” , you’d joke as you sat yourself up straight. Clearly the joke didn’t land as Dae-ho looked at you sternly. Slowly you extended your ankle out to him as he kneeled down in front of your , with an awkward chuckle in between. Immediately assessing your leg you couldn’t help but butt in as you heard him wincing. “What-“
Your eyes expanded seeing what Dae-ho was seeing. Comically you held a hand over your mouth as you gagged. Dae-ho immediately once again tried to calm your nerves. “I can fix it. If I remember correctly.. here.” His hands reached to unzip the zipper of your own jacket to your “tracksuit.” Your hands and his hands collided but by the way he was gesturing to your sleeve , you got what he was putting down.
Your teeth gnawed down on your sleeve. You pulled your eyes away immediately from the sight of your busted ankle. Dae-ho had his hands firmly set around specific points of your ankle. “Breathe in.. and three , two-“ Your ankle sounded off with a loud pop. You felt like you had gotten air brought back into your lungs. A pleased smile grew on his face. His eyes were so kind as he watched you be filled with pain relief. Rolling your ankle to keep it set. You saw him gripping at his shirt sleeve. “Dae-ho.. what are you doing?” You could not get another word as he ripped his sleeve off.
Accidentally you’d gasp as he quickly wrapped the fabric around your relocated ankle. “This should help ease your pain.” You were left speechless , which left him chuckling at your dumbfound-ness. “How did you know how to do that?” You asked him curiously. I mean he was an ex-marine , not just anyone knew how to set an ankle , even a marine. He shrugged his shoulders with a clueless nature. “I’ve had a bone injured one too many times. We also learned it when needing to help tend to fellow injured marines on the spot.” You gave him a look of recognition as you kept that in mind. Your cheeks grew warm as you realized your ankle was still in his gentle grip.
“You’re too kind to me Dae-ho.” You humbly remarked as you once again glanced away. What he responded with was… shocking? Well it’s not like he had let out a bomb of truth on you. But just by the way he responded to you made you feel the biggest of emotions. “We’re friends by now , and maybe I like taking care of you.”
Okay , was he flirting with you? No that was impolite to think. Your mind raced as you were only able to utter out a measly , “I appreciate you.” His head would triumphantly nod. “I appreciate you too , my friend!” In quick succession , you were already being called over by Gi-hun. Him and Young-Il were standing in a sort of corner of space behind empty bunks.
Dae-ho quickly stood up , offering you a hand. “We’re needed.” He’d surmised with an unmistakable grin on his face. Maybe he was feeling butterflies just like you. Repositioning your body , you began to sit up as your hand clasped with his. “We most definitely are.” You remarked in response. Odds be damned , Dae-ho was too good for you.
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dzvelinaskebiyars · 14 days ago
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WITHIN THESE WALLS !
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I kinda took this idea from @zyart-jpg when she said Wooin's fists are for everyone lol(T^T) I'm in angsty mood so yeah, I'll make y'all suffer too! Enjoy! Tagging: @shintaru @bfwooin @sylith @wthphe1n @kuchisabishiiiii @bunnygirlgonewild @erisawrites
It was a bad night.
You couldn't rest, couldn't sleep—too worried about your boyfriend ever since you heard about his illegal business.
Sure, you knew he wasn't good person but you never thought he'd go down this bad. He never failed you surprise you, really. Every time you thought everything was fine, he'd pull something up in his life that would leave you restless for weeks.
It's exhausting. Like there's walls that you can't break, despite being in relationship with him. Walls that make you think what you have with him will eventually fall apart, walls that only promise you trouble and heartbreak.
So, you found yourself in his club, after deciding to personally see what work he was doing. It was overcrowded, music blasting at max volume–almost making your ears bleed. Hundreds of girls were screaming and dancing, hundreds of boys were drinking and having fun. Couples were making out in the corner, some were too drunk to even stand. And you ended up in the middle of this mess, looking for your boyfriend.
You've heard what he said on his phone call to someone named Joker. Ironically, you don't even know his friends nor who's he associated with. His life remains mystery—even for you.
Undoubtedly, he was here, somewhere, hiding and dealing drugs. But with people constantly bumping into you and blocking your way, the hope of finding Wooin almost vanished from your heart.
The building was suffocating, making you gasp for air, that was getting harder and harder to consume.
You bumped into someone—tall, broad figure, that almost made you lose your balance. You mumbled an apology to him, desperate to keep moving.
But his yelling made you freeze in one place. "Hey, you! You made me spill my drink!" Unfamiliar man's voice echoed loudly, despite the high volume of music.
You turned around, mentally cussing yourself. Your eyes scanned his white shirt, painted yellow with the droplets of his drink. The thoughts that screamed in your head, shouting how you shouldn't have come at this place, how you should have just stayed at home, creeped in.
With a deep sigh, you apologized to him once again. "I'm deeply sorry about that. I can buy you drink, if—"
"Shut up, bitch. I bought this shirt yesterday from Anti Social Club. Do you have any idea how expensive it was?!" He stepped in your place, eyeing your outfit with judgement of devil himself, close enough to spit in your face while yelling his throat away.
"Sir, I—" Your lips parted in response, but someone grabbed your hand quickly amd pulled you behind him.
You recognized him, even if you couldn't see his face.
That expensive, colorful jacket, accompanied by plain, white shirt and black sweatpants, while golden chain hanged from his neck, his orange cap sitting comfortably on top of his head(—hiding his horrible haircut).
He spoke in his usual, sweet, friendly voice, even if his jaw muscle kept twitching from everything he was holding back to say. Fake smile, that dripped in friendly manner, rested upon his lips. "I'm so sorry in my girlfriend's place. How much was it? I'll pay."
The guy scowled upon Wooin, glaring at him with disdain. He held his chin up, rising the price much higher than it actually was. "Million won."
Wooin's eye twitched but his smile didn't disappear from his lips, he looked almost deranged. "I see." He reached in his pocket, taking out his wallet. "Million won, right?"
He took the money out of his wallet amd basically shoved it in guy's chest, his smile gone—just the frustration flashing across his face. "Here's your million."
He didn't even let the guy say anything else, just grabbed your arm and dragged you with him, away from the crowd. Not caring about people staring at him, nor his friend—Joker—who waited for him.
You knew you were in trouble. Big one at that. When he clenches your hand so harshly, that you feel like your bone will break, you know you messed up.
He dragged you outside, in secluded area where people wouldn't bother you two. Harshly spinning you around, his hands roughly gripping your elbows. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"
"I..." You hissed, feeling the sharp pain in your elbows. "I came to see you—"
"Who asked you to?" He questioned you, barely holding in the fuelled up frustration, his veins popped up on his neck.
"No one. But." You sighed, ignoring his painful grip on you. "Why are you here? I thought, you said that, you weren't going to clubs anymore? Why did you lie?"
He bit his inner cheek harshly, staying quiet for a moment before speaking up again. "It's none of your business."
And here it goes again.
Him being secretive.
Frustration boils in your nerves, as the feeling of desperation settled in your chest. You were tired of not breaking through the wall, that was built up between you two.
Lies, ignorance, avoidance...You were sick of how he responded to your questions, sick of how you didn't even know what kind of life he had, what kind of life he was dragging you in.
"Stop that." You snapped, pushing his chest. "You always say that whenever I question you. What do you mean, it's not my business?! You are my business! I deserve to, at least, know what you're doing here!"
"The hell do you want me to say, then?" He raised an eyebrow at you, like he genuinely didn't know, like he was purposely acting stupid.
"The truth!" Your voice cracked, your throat feeling tight and dry, words barely getting out of your mouth. "Is it that hard to just tell me the truth?!"
Gosh, you hated arguing with him. That was the moment when everything neither of you wanted to say, would sprout out of your mouths, mercilessly stabbing your heart and bringing you to tears. Voices raised to the point of hurting, desperate to be heard but failing each time.
But how could you stay silent when your relationship was crumbling right under your hands?! When he kept you at arm's length, letting you in as far as he could control?! Or making sure you wouldn't see what's beyond the mask he carefully carved on his own face?
You wanted him. Real him. That bruised, broken boy, who's too scared to form any healthy relationship, scared to be loved just for what he's worth and not who he is. And yet, when you love him for his heart, he drifts away, disappears into fog and leaves.
Then coming back to your arms again, mumbling apologies and making promises, he knew he couldn't keep.
But recently, he drifted far enough for you to see no way to return him back to you, no way to reach out to him. Like he was meant to hide in the darkness, barely seen and never held, just the echo from afar, filled with empty promises.
And this terrified you. Even when he was sleeping in your arms, he felt like stranger you just grew to be familiar with, like he wasn't truly yours—like he didn't allow himself to be yours. But he wanted you to be his.
You were tired of his games, wanting nothing but hold him, know him. So, the feelings you've kept inside your heart, mouth sealed from complaints, now spilled from the fresh cut, pouring everything.
"I feel like...I don't even know who you are. You just keep everything from me! I understand that you can have secrets, but this...this isn't just secret, Wooin. This is serious, okey?! And I don't want it to be brushed off as nothing!" You kept going, eyes burning with tears, that were about to betray your strong facade. "I wouldn't have come here if I wouldn't be so worried about you. I wouldn't have be here if you wouldn't leave me out of everything you do! I'm scared to even know the hell of a business you're doing here. I just know it's not legal. And I'm...I'm worried, alright?!"
"Oh, please." He rolled his eyes, his mood getting more sore as each minute passes by. "I don't need babysitter, not at my grown damn age. It's not important enough for you to know. What's so hard ti understand here?!"
"If it's not important, then why not just tell me? Why keep it a secret?" You crossed your arms over you chest, offended by his answer.
He sighs through his nose, his muscles twitching, as if wanting to hit something, to vent his anger out.
"Just go home." He mumbles.
"The fuck?!" You grabbed him by his collar. "What do you mean by that?! I came here—"
"No one asked you to."
"—because I wanted to know what you were doing behind my back! Cheating—"
"I'm not."
"—Gambling, drugs, fucking murder! For what I know, I know it's not something I'd approve. How do you expect me to stay quiet or do nothing?! How?! If you were in my shoes, would you—"
"Fuck, shut up!" He slammed you against the wall, sending jolt of pain through you spine. "Where were your worries before you started dating me?! Nonexistent?! Then why the fuck are you complaining now?!" He yelled, his grip almost bruising you. "What do I do here? Well, you were right, fucking drugs, illegal business and, what you'd call, non-human things. Happy now?"
You hissed in pain before registering his words, your heart sinking in your stomach with each one.
"What..?" You spoke up. Weakly, barely. But yoh did.
He lets go of you, taking his cap off his head, his lip stuck between his teeth as he chewed on it. He turned his back on you, and it felt like he was turning his back on your relationship, mumbling something under his breath. "Just go home."
Your eyes swelled up with tears, your heart clenching painfully at finally cleared up darkness, but you didn't like what you see. Your bottom lip trembled, as your throat felt stuck due to holding back tears. "Y-You promised...You promised me that you wouldn't—"
"Oops? I broke it." He sighs, his hands securing his cap on his head again.
"Are you in your right mind?! Why would you start this again?!" You shouted, not caring about where you were anymore.
He groaned, cursing under his breath. "This is why I didn't want to tell you."
"Didn't want to tell me?! You're basically just...treating our relationship like it's nothing! Does it even matter to you?! You think our relationship—"
"Let's break up."
You went quiet, speechless. The previous loud argument, now emptied with silence.
You couldn't see his expression, no. He had his back turned to you. But the tone of his voice was enough to tell you everything you wanted to know, everything you tried to keep together, glue it together again.
"You don't mean that." You spoke up, trying to laugh it off but when he glanced at you, his cold, chilling gaze shut you up.
He was serious.
He wasn't joking.
Without saying anything else, he started to walk away, drift away again, but this time—he wasn't promising to come back. He was forever disappearing from your sight, promising to kick you out of his heart—if he already hasn't.
You watched him, helplessly, walking away from you, stepping on everything you've built together.
You could swear it was just sand that got in your eyes back then, but the way tears spilled from your eyes, finally crying your heart out but it didn't help you feel better, it felt worse.
The thought that his lack of efforts, lies and avoidance were the signs you excused, blindly thinking he still loved you, when you could have saved yourself from this heartbreak haunted your mind.
As the night drowned the noise with silence, you drowned yourself in pool of tears, hugging yourself to fill the emptiness of his warm embrace, his kisses that you already missed.
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lawrites · 11 months ago
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Oswald Cobb x Gender Neutral Plus Size! Reader
CW: NSFW, like HEAVY NSFW, descriptions of Oz's body and a little massaging of his club foot (the poor man deserves it), body worship, PLUS SIZE/FAT LOVE, and lots of blowing/cocksucking and dirty talk.
This is for the people who watched the first episode of the Penguin show and went "okay so...raise a hand if you wanna suck his cock?" Like I'm not joking this is mainly 2k words of Oz tummy worship and cocksucking. So...enjoy 😅. Ty to @finniestoncrane for encouraging me to post this lol
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You feel like you are in heat tonight. A voice snaps inside your head, asking what's wrong with you, but you brush it to the side. You can't tell if your reactions are due to Oz’s weeklong absence or if it's because he's being particularly doting towards you. Or…maybe it's his outfit.
Oz being out on business was always stressful, 1) because he is a criminal at the end of the day and he could never return again and 2) you are left to your own devices for a whole week. Sometimes he calls to see you through his security cameras, walking you through it and getting off on the other end, but it is never the same as having his hands, his voice in your ear, his tongue…
And his first night back, Oz has decided to forgo his usually very well-dressed image, instead opting for a white suit with a fitted purple shirt. It's casually done up so you can see his chest and a little bit of his belly, the dark hair that covers all of his skin on full display. To complete his look, Oz is wearing a nice, heavy gold chain, which sits directly at the point of his body where his tummy begins to round out.
You lost your mind when you first saw him, but kept your cool. The only thing that betrayed your initial feelings was your face turning red and your inability to meet his eyes, which Oz supposedly attributed to your choice of tight dress and nervousness to head to the Lounge with him. Thankfully he didn't pick up on or didn't comment on your pupils which had blown wide, and your slightly husky voice when you said you were ready to go.
Before you left out the front door, Oz grabbed you to his side, his thick fingers digging into the generous meat of your hip, and whispered in your ear, "I like this dress, Dove. You look so good for me tonight."
And now you find yourself at the Lounge, directly next to Oz as he schmoozes and smiles and charms those that come to ask him favors or update him on business. (You tease him about his Mob-boss like behavior, saying that he should just have them kneel down and kiss his ring at this point, with all the groveling he makes them do. He grins wolfishly in response to you calling him Don Corleone. “Sweetheart, I'm being nice to them by letting them leave with a little dignity here.")
Oz has gone from having you sit next to him, to laying a hand on your soft, plush thigh, to pulling you so close that you're almost on his lap. His strong hands dig into the softness around your waist, forcing you against him so your hands have to hold onto him for support and your head rests on his shoulder.
Leaning on Oz, he occasionally whispers sweet nothings in your ear and chuckles when they make you squirm in your seat.
"Who bought you that pretty dress, Bird? They have good taste."
"You're so soft against me, Dove. Driving a man to distraction over here."
"Want Daddy Oz to get you one of your fancy drinks, hmm? For bein' so good tonight?"
It's like you're possessed, you can't help it…your hands start to wander. Not too much, you don't want to make him nervous or be inappropriate, but Oz has never minded you reminding others that you're his.
First, when Oz has no business partners around, you slowly move a hand through the fuzz at the nape of Oz's neck, carding your fingers through his hair a bit farther up and making his eyes roll back. "Guh, that's the stuff, sweetheart. You treat me so nice."
Then, your other hand slowly inches down to rest just at the edge of where his shirt is unbuttoned. One finger extends to trace the seam, where it slowly, slowly inches so it is lightly running up and down the little sliver of tummy he is showing, right below his gold chain. You pick up the texture of his rough body hair against his soft, warm belly, and it makes you clench your thighs together. His breath hitches just slightly and Oz lets out a soft groan. "Just playin', Dove? Or do you intend to follow through?"
You look up at him, and Oz has to hold back a pained noise when you say, "I'll do whatever you want Oz. Been gone for so long, and you look so handsome tonight. Can't think."
Oz grins, still unused to a pretty thing like you giving him so much attention. "Yeah? You like this look? That why you're feeling up my chest?"
You stop your hand in its path, realizing that you had started fully running it up and down his hairy chest absentmindedly. You blush and pull it away, but Oz grabs your hand and brings it up to his lips. He coos at you, voice low "Pretty Dove, don't be ashamed. Just surprised that you're so handsy tonight." He leans over a bit so you can feel his breath against your neck as he whispers in your ear, "Where's my prim and proper birdie, huh? Flown away for the night? Left a sexy little thing like you in place?"
He nips your ear when he pulls back, making you whimper and squirm again in your seat. Oz takes you in hungrily, eyes roaming down your rolls and bumps on display as he presses you to him harder. "God, you do look good, kid. Decadent. So much for a man to grab and play with. Perfect for a guy like me." His hands dig into your hips, shaking the excess flesh there and taking in the way your body wobbles with dark eyes.
Oz looks at his watch, takes in his club, and then stands up, hauling you up with him. "Let's leave early, Sweetheart." You giggle and take his arm when he offers it, acting the gentleman even after his teasing words.
Heading back to his place feels like it takes forever, especially with Oz getting handsy. The driver closes the partition between you and the front as Oz’s rough hands pet up and down your body, pulling you all the way onto his lap. He gives you a mischievous grin as he brings you down against the bulge in his pants and grinds up into you, his eyes shining when you let out a soft whine.
But he keeps your pace slow, trying to edge and tease but not end anything too soon. You feel your eyes screw up as your body gets hot, letting out a groan of frustration as they open again to give him a pleading look. He lets out a sound like he's been punched, throwing his head back against the seat. "Can't look at me like that, makes me wanna just give you everything you want.”
A thrill moves through you, filling you with a tingling pleasure at the thought that you were so pretty you could make him do whatever you wanted, in this moment. But instead, you just give him a pleased grin paired with a blush that makes his heart skip a beat.
The driver taps on the glass, and the two of you hurriedly try to straighten your clothes as much as you can. Oz hands over a tip, and then you both turn towards his place. He limps behind you as fast as he can, trying to match your pace. Usually, he may feel insecurity over his leg at this moment, but instead he just thanks whatever fate allows him to get a glimpse of your ass and wide hips shifting and swaying as you take the lead.
As soon as you're through the doors, Oz pushes you up against them and kisses you. You both breath heavily and desperately try to take in as much of the other as possible. Separating, Oz presses his forehead to yours and shakily speaks, "Whatever you want tonight, Dove. I'll do it. You…you got me. I can't say no.”
The thought of bringing such a powerful man to his knees…it makes you whine and grind against his front. He bucks into you, his soft tummy pressing against your own. "O-Oz! I-"
He grins, realizing how flustered you already are. His fingers skim up and down your hips, lightly pressing into them, "Yeah? What's my Angel want, huh? You just gotta say it."
You pause and swallow heavily, trying to slow your racing mind and even out your heartbeat so you can think. The mind you're stuck with manages to form only one thought: "God, Oz...wanna suck your cock."
Oz blanches, but then grips your hips harder and grinds into you again involuntary. You whimper and grab desperately at his arms. Oz is breathier now, "F-fuck, bird. Whatever you want."
He starts to pull you behind him quickly, desperate to get to anywhere where you can kneel in comfort. Oz grips your hand harder as you see his office, bringing you through the wide doorway and shoving the doors closed behind.
He hurriedly walks to his desk, stealing a cushion from the couch as he goes and putting it on the ground for you. Impatiently, you wait for him to settle in his office chair, and then get on your knees immediately.
You look up, hands resting in your lap, and Oz groans at how good you're being for him. He hastily starts undoing his belt buckle, but fumbles a bit. You whine, "Ozzie…let me help."
Oz groans and holds his hands up, gesturing for you to get to work, and your hands dive in. They make quick work of his buckle and separate his belt, and then start unbuttoning, unzipping, even undoing his shirt, until his cock is free, so hard it's resting against his soft, fuzzy belly.
You almost drool. But then, you go a bit further. You move down his pants-covered legs and start to leave little kisses on his brace, making him draw in a shaky breath. When you get to his shoes, you carefully untie them, slowly and gently removing them until he is left in socks. Your clever hands start to knead and rub his club foot, making his eyes roll back and his posture soften almost instantly.
After a few minutes of massaging his poor foot, that he never lets anyone know is almost constantly in pain, his whole body is relaxed and his voice lets out occasional grumbles of praise. "Right there, Dove, yeah, that's the stuff."
Deciding that you've given him enough kindness for the night, your hands pull away. Oz's head raises up, and you almost giggle as his face screws into a confused look. "Why'd you stop, sweetness?" You do giggle now, "Oz, don't you remember why we are here in the first place?" And to remind him, you spit in your hands and Oz whimpers, "Dove, so dirty, where'd you learn that?"
But he doesn't get to speak more as they close around his length, your fingers gently tracing and running up the vein at the underside of his cock until he's panting, already leaking. You take time to gather a drop from his tip, sweetly looking at it on one finger before desperately plunging it into your mouth, groaning at his salty taste. Oz sees your thighs rub together and his eyes roll back, hands gripping his chair.
You lean forward when you're done, looking up at him and sweetly licking the tip of his cock with your pink little tongue, making Oz shiver and moan. "G-good, good job-fuck."
His praise makes you whimper, and that's when you decide to really go for it. You barely give him notice before your mouth is surrounding his tip, tongue laving around the head and making Oz shout out your name. Your mouth works down his length, using your fingers to spread out your own saliva and Oz's precum to allow you to move further down his length.
Oz is spewing obscenities, doing everything to keep from bucking into your mouth like some sort of teen who is getting his first blow, but it's difficult. His heart, his sweet bird, acting like a whore and begging to suck him off? Your sweet little mouth and hands working him so nicely? He's close already.
Vision starting to go black around the edges, you realize you have to breathe after being so obsessed with him for too long, and you pull back. Your lungs fill with big gulps of air and you can only taste and see Oz, his cock, his tummy…"So good. You taste so good. Wanna take you all the way now." Oz swears again.
He nods, out of breath, and you sweetly wrap your lips around his length and start opening your mouth wider, opening your throat, letting him slide in until your nose is pressed into his hairs and his gut is pressing into the top of your head. You whine, feeling him surround you, and your hand reaches down, pushing up your dress and playing with yourself. Oz looks down, sees your glazed over eyes and your drool around his cock, your plush body pressed into his leg, and hears your hand moving.
Oz bucks up, unable to help himself. "Fuck, Angel." You choke around his length, your throat muscles clench, and then he's finishing with a shout of your name. Sputtering, you're unable to even think about swallowing, allowing it instead to drip down your chin and onto your chest. Oz feels like he's in heaven and hell as his orgasm lasts a while, for him, groaning and throwing his head back and reaching for you. He clenches a hand in your hair and murmurs to himself “Mine, sweetness, God" around his moans.
When he comes back to Earth, he sees the mess he's made of you. His spend is pooling in the valley of your soft chest, and he groans and bucks up, his cock softening. "Dove, you killed me. You gotta stop it."
But his brain kicks in only a moment later, his eyes darkening and cataloging every part of you like he needs to remember it. "Fuck you look good, all covered in me." His hand reaches out, fondling your chest and making you moan and whimper as his cum starts to run down from where it had pooled and onto your dress, soaking it.
He fishes a handkerchief out of his pocket with his other hand blindly, loathe to stop playing with your chest or look away for a moment. Then he gently starts with your mouth, cleaning your chin and pressing a thumb to your lips, making you open for him. You do, of course, eagerly, gladly.
"You got messy, Sweetheart. Too eager for my cock, huh?" You nod and blush and he is on the cusp of getting hard again, your embarrassment after basically pawing at his cock making him feel obsessed in a way he only remembers experiencing around you.
He grins, but his eyes remain dark, like his mind is racing with vicious plans. “Well, fair’s fair, Dove. Gotta let me show you how a real man thanks you for a show like that, huh?”
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claramelooo · 8 months ago
Text
Hey, guys!
If you're reading this, congratulations! We've reached the end of this saga! I'm so happy I had the courage to start this project, and it's all thanks to the support of you guys who interacted with me so well that I felt comfortable writing with all my heart.
I still thinking in eventually to write one-shots for them, but I dunno, you tell me!! Lol
and I will definitely write more about the milfs we love, no worries!
Enjoy it!!
MINORS MUST NOT INTERACT
Warnings: Angst, Smut, Happy Ending!!!
Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat Fem Reader
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Summary: Wanda's courage makes her knock on your door after five years
Read here: Prologue | Part 1 - Predator | Part 2 - The Prey | Part 3 - On your Knees | Part 4 - The Spider | Part 5 - The Lamb | Part 6 - Pure Crimson | Part 7 - Dependece | Part 8 - Passion | Part 9 - Revenge | Part 10 - Control | Part 11 - Consequences
VELVET CHAINS
Love
After five years, everything had changed. You had graduated in International Relations and were working in a mid-level position at the American embassy, handling negotiations, mediating conversations between diplomats, and diving into a routine that made you feel important. It wasn’t exactly what you had imagined when you first dreamed of your career, but you were on the right path.
Living in a quiet Manhattan neighborhood, your apartment reflected who you were: an organized person with a touch of calculated chaos. Stacks of books sat on the coffee table, an unfinished painting leaned against the wall, and Sparky, your Golden Retriever, bounded back and forth with endless energy.
Sparky had come into your life at a strange time, a gift from Yelena. "You need some decent company," she said, placing the puppy in your hands. "Because clearly, you can’t pick good company on your own." It was her way of showing she cared, and you knew that.
Yelena was one of the few ties you kept to your past. Despite your differences, you often met up, usually for quick lunches at tucked-away cafés in the city. She would talk about her work, about Natasha, and occasionally drop hints that you should go out more.
"You're young, smart, and beautiful," she’d say, almost like a mantra. "And you live like a nun."
What Yelena didn’t understand—or pretended not to—was that you didn’t just want to go out more. You wanted something that felt impossible to find: connection.
Even when you went out with your blonde fling (if you could even call her that), everything felt hollow. She was funny, gorgeous, and always willing to meet up, but she knew nothing about who you really were. She didn’t know about Sparky, your sleepless nights reading poetry, and definitely didn’t know about Wanda.
Ah, Wanda.
There were moments when thoughts of her crept in. Not intentionally, of course, but reflexively. Like when Sparky did something adorable, reminding you of how much Wanda loved dogs. Or when a particular song came on, one she used to hum while cooking.
But you’d learned to shove those memories into the back of your mind. There was too much to deal with in the present.
That day, for example, a stack of reports awaited your review, and you had a meeting at three. But first, you needed to take Sparky for a quick walk. Grabbing his leash, you left the apartment, greeting a few neighbors along the way.
"Good morning, Y/n!" called a cheerful older woman from the second floor.
"Good morning, Mrs. Harris!" you replied, your smile automatic but genuine.
Mornings were like that: simple, ordinary. A far cry from the life you once lived.
By the end of the day, Sparky lay curled up on the rug while you pored over a complicated email. The weight of routine settled over you. Everything seemed in place, yet something still felt out of tune.
You paused, staring out at the city through the window. The lights shimmered on the horizon, a promise of vibrant life out there.
But inside you, there was only silence.
After five years, everything had changed—except you.
Outwardly, you were the perfect image of an adult woman: successful, independent, living the life anyone would envy. But inside, the marks Wanda had left on you lingered like invisible scars, impossible to ignore.
You still felt like a little girl, torn between the desire to be cared for and the need for discipline. No matter how much you tried to bury it, there was a void in your routine that no job, company, or casual relationship could fill.
Wanda had shaped you. She taught you to surrender, to trust, to lose control in a safe way—and somehow, that had defined you. The nights with her still visited your dreams, a mix of longing and anguish. Her voice, firm yet full of care, still echoed in your mind when you felt overwhelmed.
"Good girl."
It was a simple phrase, but loaded with meanings no one else seemed to understand. It wasn’t just the compliment itself; it was what came with it: warmth, security, the feeling of being seen entirely.
A shiver ran down your spine at the memory. Sometimes, you hated it—hated how her memories still held power over you. But the truth was that part of you yearned for it again: a firm touch, a gaze that stripped away all your layers of protection, a kiss that said, "You’re mine."
You’d tried to recreate it with other people, of course. Foolishly, you thought you might find something similar with your blonde fling. But the woman lacked patience, or the understanding to handle your needs. She enjoyed herself, sure, but she had no idea that, for you, it went far beyond casual sex.
There were times when she rolled her eyes as you hesitated or became too submissive. It made you withdraw, reminding you that without Wanda, no one else seemed willing or capable of understanding.
"You’re complicated," the blonde had once said after you hesitated to take any initiative.
The woman straddling you moved rhythmically, trying to coax a reaction that just wouldn’t come. It wasn’t her fault; she was doing everything right. The problem was you. It was always you. Or rather, the emptiness left by the one who should never have gone.
Your vacant gaze fixed on the ceiling, your hands resting lazily on her hips, entirely unenthusiastic. Everything felt wrong, each touch a cruel reminder of what you truly wanted.
And it was only one person.
Not even five damn years had been enough to erase her name from your mind. It was etched somewhere between your ribs, buried deep but never far enough to ignore.
Wanda.
You closed your eyes, trying to push the thought away, but it was useless. All you could do was remember the feel of her mouth on yours, the sound of her raspy voice calling your name, the devastating look that made you feel like the only person in the world.
Now, she was on the other side of the country. Probably lying in bed next to her perfect husband. You almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Vision was everything any woman could want: stable, respectable, and, of course, approved by everyone that mattered. But he was never you.
You let out a deep, heavy sigh, so profound the blonde paused, propping herself up on her elbows to look at you with a mix of confusion and irritation.
"Are you going to fuck me or not?"
You shifted your gaze to the blonde straddling you... Jenna? Jemma? You couldn’t even remember her name. All you knew was that she worked in a different department.
Gripping the blonde’s hair, you yanked her head closer. "That’s not how you ask for what you want. But since you’re a dumb little slut, I’ll do all the work."
The woman, who had been about to protest your dirty language, fell silent as you buried three fingers inside her. You grabbed her waist and pulled her down until your fingers disappeared completely.
Her nails were already digging into your shoulders with the simple movement. You smiled to yourself before you began to destroy the poor woman's pussy. You thrust with maximum speed and force, making her scream in pleasure.
You curled your fingertips, hitting the woman's spongy, pulsing spot—bringing tremors in her legs, indicating the strong signs of an orgasm. When the woman came loudly, you pulled out of her.
At least she started to get dressed quickly afterward, "Maybe we can do this again sometime."
You gave her a weak smile. "Maybe."
You grabbed your phone, ordering an Uber for the blonde, the feeling of having brought her here haunting your mind like a mistake weighing on your heart.
As you waited for the blonde's Uber, guilt began to mix with boredom. It wasn't just her; it was the whole situation. The repetition of the same pattern: empty encounters, forgettable faces, names you didn't even bother to remember. You grabbed a robe to dress yourself and cover your nakedness—you threw yourself on the living room couch, while Sparky, your faithful companion, jumped beside you, offering an affection that seemed to be the only true constant in your life.
The apartment was a clear representation of who you had become over the past five years. Modern, well-decorated, yet with an air of transience, as though you had never truly committed to the space. A reflection of your own soul, perhaps.
And now, there was the job offer abroad. Paris. A dream for anyone in your field. The first thought you had when you received the news was excitement. Yet, there was something inside you that hesitated. It wasn’t just attachment to what you had built in Manhattan. It was what you still couldn’t let go of, even after all this time.
Wanda.
Her name still carried a different weight. A name that brought a flood of memories: her laughter, the way she looked at you, the way the world seemed to dissolve when you were together. You didn’t know how she was now. You knew she was in Texas. But beyond that?
Was she still with Vision? Did the boys remember you? Had she completely forgotten about you?
The emptiness returned, but this time with a twinge of curiosity. What was Wanda doing now? Was she sleeping beside Vision? Was she thinking about you?
The sound of a notification on your phone pulled you from your thoughts. The Uber had arrived. You got up, escorting the woman outside, ensuring she was safe—you’d never let anyone leave without making sure of that. The blonde waved at you from the car window, and you responded with an automatic gesture before walking toward your balcony.
You stopped in your tracks when you heard a familiar, yet more mature voice.
“You should put some clothes on if you’re planning to stay out here all night.”
Your blood ran cold at the sound of that voice. A strong wave of denial surged within you. Turning toward the voice took all the strength you had to stop yourself from retreating indoors.
The world seemed to tilt when you turned, and there she was. Wanda Maximoff. Five years. Five damn years since the last time you’d seen her, but nothing could have prepared you for this moment.
She stood at the base of your balcony, arms crossed over her chest, covered by a wool cardigan. Her hair was longer than you remembered, with strands that caught the faint streetlight, giving her an almost ethereal glow. But that wasn’t what captured your attention. It wasn’t her undeniable beauty. It was the restrained fury in her eyes, a deep, uncontrollable fire that pierced you like blades.
“Wanda…” you whispered, her name barely escaping your throat as your heart raced wildly.
She raised an eyebrow, her expression stern as she tilted her head slightly. “I asked if you’re staying out here all night or if you’re finally going to get dressed.”
You looked down at yourself, realizing you were still in just your robe, nothing else. But it wasn’t enough to distract you from the fact that she was there. After five years. After all the time and distance, she was standing on your balcony, looking at you as though she could dismantle your entire life with a single glance.
“I…” You tried to speak, but your voice failed. Your chest tightened, a storm of emotions you couldn’t name swirling inside you. Fear. Guilt. Longing. Anger. Love. All spinning within you like a tornado. “It’s been a while.” You finally settled on that response.
Wanda’s eyes narrowed at you. “Yes, and you’ve kept yourself very busy since the last time I saw you.”
Her sarcasm hit you like a slap. Her anger, once contained, began to spill over. How dare she? Five years of silence. Five years of emptiness, and now she was here, judging you?
“It’s none of your business,” you retorted, your voice harsher than you intended.
“It used to be,” Wanda replied with the same intensity. She took a step closer, her eyes burning as her voice dropped to something rougher, more intimate. “You used to be so good to Mommy.”
Her words cut like a knife. The heat you’d felt turned to a chill. You stepped back, raising your hands as if to keep a safe distance from her, from everything she represented.
“Goodnight, Wanda,” you said, your voice cold and controlled, trying to salvage the last shred of dignity you had. You turned to head inside, but before you could take more than two steps, you felt a tug on your wrist.
Her touch, even after everything, was familiar. Too familiar. Your eyes met hers again, and something in Wanda’s expression had shifted. There was anger, yes, but also... something else. Something that looked like desperation.
“Y/n,” she said, her voice now almost a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken conversations. “We need to talk.”
“Talk?” you repeated, almost mocking. “Five years, Wanda. Five years of silence. And now you show up at my door, after everything... to talk?”
She closed her eyes for a moment, as if searching for the right words. When she opened them again, tears were beginning to pool.
The tension in the air was almost suffocating. Your heart was still racing as you stepped back, swallowing hard and looking away from Wanda. It was too much—seeing her there, the weight of her presence after all this time. You tried to escape the emotional storm, turning toward your hallway, your hands trembling as you gripped the door to close it.
But before the wood could meet the frame, her foot stopped it.
The shock of her audacity quickly morphed into anger. You spun on your heels, ready to confront her, but before you could say a word, Wanda had already crossed the threshold of your home. Without permission.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” your voice came out firm, though the lump in your throat remained. You stepped forward, crossing your arms, trying to project an authority you didn’t feel.
Wanda didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. She shut the door behind her with a calm that was unsettling, her green eyes scanning the room before landing back on you. “I’m not standing out in the cold while you play house with every random whore who crosses your path. But when I need you—when Mommy needs you—you refuse to listen,” she said, her tone almost casual, but with an edge of something dangerous, like a sharp knife wrapped in velvet.
The word you hadn’t heard, hadn’t uttered in years, sent shivers down your spine. Hearing it from Wanda’s mouth reignited a fire in your lower belly—one you tried to ignore.
“Listen?” You laughed, but it was dry and full of disbelief. “You barge into my house after five years and think I owe you anything? Wanda?”
Wanda stepped closer, and you realized you were cornered between her and the wall. Despite the anger burning inside you, something else was growing—something that made your knees weak and the air hard to breathe.
“Five years,” she repeated, her voice heavy with meaning. “Five years without a single word. And now, when I finally see you, you think you can dismiss me with a ‘goodnight, Wanda’? No. We’re going to talk, Y/n.”
“Talk?” you repeated, almost derisively.
The tension in the room was almost electric as you held Wanda’s gaze. No matter how hard you tried to maintain your firm posture, your crossed arms, and your cold voice, something inside you was crumbling. She was so close now, and that familiar scent—a mix of something floral and woody—invaded your senses, dragging up memories you had spent five long years trying to bury.
“Yes, talk,” Wanda replied, her tone lower now, but with an intensity that rooted you in place. “And you’re going to listen, Y/n. Because I didn’t cross half the country to be ignored.”
You let out a bitter laugh, anger and confusion boiling inside you. “You don’t have the right to show up here and demand anything from me, Wanda. Nothing! You made your choice, remember? You chose your family. You chose Vision. So why are you here now? For what?”
Her eyes shimmered with a mix of pain and determination.
"Vision found out." Two words—only two words were enough for you to completely let your guard down with her.
You felt your arms drop to your sides, your posture crumbling. All the control you had desperately tried to maintain was ripped away. Wanda observed the change in you, her eyes watchful but devoid of any satisfaction. It seemed like she was crumbling inside too.
"Found out what, exactly?" you asked, but your voice came out softer than you intended. It was a loaded question, filled with everything you had tried to ignore for years.
"About us," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "About everything."
You let yourself fall back against the wall, trying to find stability as your head spun. "And then? What do you want from me now, Wanda? I can't be your safe place when everything falls apart. Not anymore."
The woman ignored your questions and continued her monologue, her eyes glistening with tears. “He threatened me. Threatened to expose this to the church, threatened to take the boys from me.” Wanda's voice was a fragile thread.
You tried to speak, but your throat was dry. Everything about her—the teary eyes, the voice heavy with pain, the proximity—was pulling you back into a whirlwind of emotions you didn’t want to face.
“I thought about killing him.” The confession made your heart stop for a second. You felt the weight of those words hit you like a punch. Wanda, your Wanda, talking about murdering her husband with an almost practical coldness.
She took another step, her palm now resting against your cheek, a touch so delicate it completely contrasted with the violence of her words.
“It would be simple to poison him, and I’d be free—I’d have my boys, my reputation intact, I’d have you.”
The closeness was suffocating. The intensity in her eyes, the tears slowly rolling down Wanda's face, mingling with your own tear-filled gaze, trapped you in a way you couldn’t escape.
“But then… Billy got sick, and I saw no other way out, Y/n. There was no other way to push you out of my life except for that…” Her voice trembled, an echo of a desperation so raw and real it made your chest tighten even more.
Your heart was torn between believing her and protecting yourself. Her words seemed genuine, but you knew Wanda had always had the power to manipulate your feelings. She always knew exactly how to reach the most vulnerable corners of your soul.
“Wanda, I...” You tried to find words but were lost. Lost in the whirlwind of emotions she provoked in you—anger, sadness, love, and a terrible longing for everything you used to be together.
"I never wanted to hurt you," she whispered, her fingers now softly tracing the line of your jaw. "I just wanted to protect you. Protect the boys. Protect... us."
"Protect?" Your voice finally found strength. "Wanda, you destroyed everything. Not just your life but mine too. I spent five years trying to piece together what you left behind. And now you come back, expecting me to believe it was all to protect us?"
Wanda stepped back slightly, but her eyes remained fixed on yours, pleading for something you didn’t know if you could give. "I don’t expect you to forgive me, Y/n. Not now. Maybe not ever. But I needed you to know. I needed you to understand what really happened."
Silence fell between you, heavy and oppressive. Her words still echoed in your mind. Vision. Threats. The boys. She had thought about killing for you. For them.
And despite everything, a part of you wanted to believe her. Wanted to go back in time, to before everything fell apart, to when her touch was the only thing that made sense in the world. But the past was there, as present as she was, and you didn’t know how to escape its shadow.
“Who was she?” Wanda's hoarse voice cut through the silence like a blade—low, but laden with an intensity that sent a shiver up your spine.
You blinked, confused, trying to understand the question. "Who...?"
"The blonde? Who was she?" Wanda interrupted, her eyes burning into yours, her tone a little firmer, almost possessive.
You hesitated, discomfort growing. "I... I don’t know what that matters now, Wanda."
"It matters," she shot back, stepping forward. "Because she left your house wearing the same cheap perfume I smelled on you when I arrived. So I’ll ask again: who was she?"
The sudden clarity in Wanda's words hit you like a shock. It wasn’t just curiosity or simple jealousy; there was something deeper in the way she was looking at you, as if she desperately needed this answer.
“She’s just...” You averted your gaze, trying to find an explanation that didn’t sound as frivolous as the truth. "She’s nobody. Someone from work. She means nothing."
“Means nothing,” Wanda repeated, almost to herself, but with a touch of sarcasm that hurt more than you wanted to admit. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as if trying to calm herself. When she opened them again, her green eyes were intense, locked on yours. "You think I believe that? Since when would you let just anyone touch you? She isn’t ‘nothing.’"
"You have no right to come here and ask me these kinds of questions, Wanda. Not after everything," you snapped back, your own anger finally starting to bubble.
She began, her voice deep but trembling, “Just the thought of someone else touching you, kissing you, seeing you the way I did…” She paused, her fists clenched at her sides. “It feels like the ground is disappearing beneath me.”
You felt the air leave your lungs. Her intensity was overwhelming. "Wanda..."
“You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice broke, and for a moment, she seemed so vulnerable that you didn’t know whether to stay or run. “I tried to move on. I tried to accept that I’d never have you again. But every day, every night that passed, I felt you with me. Here.” She pressed her hand to her chest, over her heart.
You stayed silent, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to deal with the storm forming in front of you.
“I see myself in every woman who tries to touch you," she continued, her voice lowering but still loaded with dangerous intensity. “And it’s unbearable. Because no matter who they are, I know none of them will ever be good enough for you. Because none of them are me.”
Her words hit like a blow, mixing anger, sadness, and a pang of something you didn’t want to name. Love. Maybe obsession.
You whimpered, “That’s not fair! You chose him over me! You can’t just come here and say whatever you want.”
“I had to, Y/n! For the sake of my kids, for Billy’s health!” She snapped, clearly frustrated with your stubbornness.
You let out an incredulous laugh. “And what does that mean now, huh? What does it change in the present?”
She stood up from the couch, straightening her posture—and her pride. “It means I’m divorcing him.” She began walking toward you in slow steps. “It means I took the first flight and traveled 27 hours—even though I’m terrified of planes—just to see you.” Wanda smiled, emotional. More steps, closer to you. “It means, Y/n, that no matter how hard I’ve tried, I can’t forget you.”
You wanted to step back, but your body wouldn’t obey. You couldn’t control yourself and cursed inwardly at the thought that your body still belonged to her, and the promise Wanda made you before still lingered.
“You know what, Y/n?” Wanda said, staring at you intently.
You couldn’t have answered even if you wanted to, your voice stuck in your throat.
“All I’ve been able to think about for the last few fucking months is your beautiful face between my legs.” Her face was close to yours, her breath fresh and hauntingly familiar, tickling your skin. “Tell me, so many women coming and going from this place… but has any of them made you come like I did?”
The truth was that you hadn’t had an orgasm since your last time with Wanda. Every woman who had passed through your life didn’t understand how much you wanted to be broken during sex and then be held, pampered, loved…
“Oh, poor thing… Haven’t you cum since the last time Mommy made you?”
Usually, you hated it when people got in your head, but you were getting close to the limits of your intelligence. The only woman who could make you was right in front of you trying to do just that.
“It seems like you need Mommy as much as she needs you.” Wanda slowly knelt down, opening the robe you were wearing a little. She moaned when she saw that you weren’t wearing any panties.
“Fuck, I love how wet you get for me.” The woman’s mouth was watering as she remembered the taste of you on her tongue.
Your breathing quickened when one of Wanda’s fingers dragged through your folds. Quickly, you took a step back and closed the robe again.
“I can’t do this. You're going to fuck me and then leave me!” You shouted, stomping your feet like the little girl Wanda knew well and missed terribly.
“Y/n, I'm getting a divorce, seriously!” She uses that soothing tone, the tone she used to calm you down when you cried in her arms after a punishment.
Before you can deny her once more, Wanda crushes her lips to yours—and that was the end of the conversation. Your hands locked themselves in the older woman's blond locks, bringing her even closer to you.
“I hate you so much!” You growled, biting Wanda's lower lip, making her moan. “You owe me the best orgasm of my life.”
You rip the woman's blouse, wrapping Wanda's nipple between your teeth—mutilating them, making Wanda moan.
“Has he touched you since I left? Do you moan like that for him? Does your body react to his touch?” As much as you tried. Tried to forget her and put out the fire of your obsession for her, here you were, with your mouth mistreating every inch of her skin.
“No.” Wanda replied breathlessly, her hands tangling in your hair. “Only you.” The woman’s intense gaze as she said this made you shiver.
Wanda pulled your head away from her. Your neck was stretched back as she stared hungrily at your body, “Mommy understands that you’re mad at her, baby, but don’t forget who’s in charge. You want to make me happy, don’t you?”
You immediately flinched at the brightness of her black eyes of pure excitement, “Yes, Mommy.”
Her lips pressed against yours in a small peck, “Good girl, now take me upstairs.”
There was a hesitant tremor in your body as you picked up the older woman and carried her to your bedroom. You sat her down on the bed and stood in front of her, waiting for the next move. You were writhing around, your pussy was so wet.
"Did you enjoy fucking that blonde slut on this bed? This bed should only be used for pleasure if mommy allows it."
You shook your head, "No, mommy…"
"What about the other sluts you were fucking? Hmm, you had so many, didn't you? All blondes… I wonder why that was."
Your focus was divided between her questions and the hand she was using to tease you. Her hand found a path you desperately wanted to follow. From your chest to your pussy.
"No mommy, they couldn't satisfy me."
Wanda finally took a long step towards you, placing her hand on your chest. "And why is that, baby?"
Your breath hitched as she touched the band of your robe, threatening to take it off. Her delicate finger crept into your folds.
"Because only mommy can make me cum." She pinched your clit, making you whimper,
"Say it again."
"Only mommy can make me cum," Your voice rose an octave as Wanda thrust a finger into you.
There was a slightly sadistic look on her face at the sound of your cries. She bent down to her knees, pulling off your robe, leaving you completely naked to her. Her finger continued to attack your pussy.
"You're so tight, Detka, has no one put a finger inside you since mommy? Have you kept that pussy all pristine for me?" You were struggling to stand at this point.
The way she was talking to you along with her finger fucking was enough to make you fall apart. Wanda smacked your thigh firmly, making you jump in surprise,
"Mommy asked you a question." Your frantic eyes met hers,
"No, mommy, no one has touched me since you."
"Not even your pretty little finger has been in that pussy?" You shake your head,
"No, Mommy."
She takes this as a sign to shove 2 more fingers inside you, "Open that pussy for Mommy. When I'm done, that hole will be just right for Mommy."
You moaned at the way your pussy stretched for Wanda. You could feel the juices dripping out of you as Wanda worked her magic on you. You almost screamed when you felt a slap against your clittoris.
Although you couldn’t see her, you were sure the woman was smiling at your reaction. She continued to pound your clit hard to the point that your knees felt like they would give out at any moment.
“It’s like it’s the first time all over again. You can’t handle a simple caress and a slap on your pussy without your legs giving out. We’re going to have to retrain you after this,” the woman pushed you hard onto the bed.
Your hands were gripping the edge of the mattress as your legs dangled over the edge. Wanda settled herself between your knees.
Her hot breath teasing your pussy. She gave one last smack before closing her lips around your clit.
“Fuck, mommy!” Wanda giggled into your pussy, sending vibrations through your body.
Wanda used one hand to hold you down as she fingered and tongue fucked you. Your back was almost arched off the bed.
“Mmm, so sweet.” She murmured into your pussy. “Mommy missed that smell so much, that sticky little pussy of yours wetting my mouth.” Wanda ground her own pussy into the edge of the mattress, the friction sending tremors through her legs.
You wanted to close your legs because there was something building in the pit of your stomach.
You staggered up from your sitting position when Wanda removed all contact. It was like your eyes were going to pop out of your head.
There was a mischievous smile on her lips as she looked down at you.
“What’s wrong, Detka?”
Your body was shaking, yearning for your long-awaited release.
“Mommy, please.”
Wanda smiled even wider as she crawled on top of you, lining her pussy up with your fluid cunt. She was directly above you, her eyes looking playfully into yours,
“Please, what, huh? We’ve barely started, baby girl, you don’t want to cum now, do you?”
Wanda began to grind against you, making you both moan at the contact of your pussies together. The ease with which your clits met only showed that your bodies had met before—maybe in another life.
"I need to cum, Mommy. Please let me cum. Fuck, it's been too long…. I need my Mommy to make me cum, only Mommy can make me cum, please," you were desperate.
If you even tried to touch yourself without her permission right now, she would deny you. The best thing you could do was beg like the hungry slut you truly were.
She increased the friction against your pussy and a small cry escaped your lips. You demanded more, and Wanda knew it.
"Look at me," Wanda gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her.
She brushed your messy hair away from your face and placed a tender kiss on your forehead, "I've missed you so much, Y/N. I'm going to make you cum so hard. Do you know why?"
You shook your head, unable to speak. Tender moments during sex didn’t happen often between the two of you. So this was definitely new, and it was making your heart flutter.
She placed her forehead against yours, “Because I love you.” She moaned passionately, as if those words had been stuck in her throat for a long time. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed my perfect little slut? My little sneaky baby, huh?” Wanda continued to grind her hips against you, feeling her orgasm coming on herself.
“All I want to do is take care of you. I want to make you feel good because it makes me feel good.” She began to thrust harder against you.
You grab her face with both hands, crushing your lips against hers feverishly. She slumps against your body, so she’s no longer holding back.
You moan directly into her mouth as she begins to move more sporadically against you.
“Cum for me, Y/N,” the command was whispered in your ear, and that was all it took for you to cum.
Both of your bodies shook, and your arms flew around Wanda, pinning her in place. It felt like your entire body was spasming under the immense amount of pleasure.
Wanda placed soft kisses on the side of your neck as you began to regain your composure, “You’re my good girl. Cumming as soon as Mommy says you can.” You look so beautiful when you're under me like this, darling.
Wanda sighed, her fingers tracing small circles on your back, each gentle touch laden with a tenderness that felt almost reverent. Her breathing seemed calm, but you could feel the rapid pulse in her chest, as if her heart was struggling to break free from the walls her mind insisted on building. There was a raw vulnerability in the silence between you, a space where unspoken emotions seemed to take form.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” you murmured, your voice thick as you buried your face in her shoulder. Every word felt like a battle against the tight knot in your throat, threatening to unravel into tears at any moment.
“I did too,” Wanda replied, her voice heavy with a weight only she could understand. Her lips brushed against the top of your head in a slow, almost hesitant kiss, as if she needed to confirm you were real. “And every day without you… felt like an eternity. A never-ending punishment.”
“I love you too, Wanda. That’s never changed.” The words came as a whisper but carried a devastating power. You didn’t need volume; the love pouring out of every syllable was enough to fill the void of the lost years.
Wanda froze for a moment, as if your confession had the power to split time in half. You hadn’t realized how tense she was until you felt her body relax against yours, a shaky breath escaping her lips. Slowly, she pulled away, rolling to her side until the two of you were face-to-face. Wanda’s face was an open book—hope, fear, and love colliding in a whirlwind of emotions.
“I have children,” she said finally, her voice low and raw, as if each word was a confession torn from her. Her gaze was piercing, searching yours as though bracing for judgment or hesitation.
“I know,” you said, your voice steady, a contrast to the delicate fragility of the moment. Your eyes held hers, offering the reassurance she seemed to desperately need.
“The divorce…” Wanda continued, her words almost a lament, “it might get messy. Ugly. And I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I know.” You squeezed her fingers gently, as if to say no obstacle would be big enough to separate you again.
The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. It was as if both hearts were readjusting their rhythms to beat in unison once more after so long out of sync. You brought your free hand to her face, gently caressing her warm, delicate skin.
“I’m here by your side, Wanda, no matter what happens. As long as you’re honest with me, I’m yours.”
Wanda blinked, her eyes glistening with tears she didn’t try to hide. “All mine…” she echoed, her voice almost a whisper, as though she couldn’t believe the words. A single tear slid down her cheek, and you wiped it away with your thumb, a simple gesture heavy with unspoken promises.
“Yes,” you reaffirmed, your voice soft but resolute. “Always yours.”
Wanda closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. When she opened them again, a determination shone in her gaze that hadn’t been there before. “I’m going to fight for this. For us. I’ll never let you go again.”
And so, in that room where time seemed to have stopped, you found each other once more. After five years of pain and distance, nothing felt more certain than the promise you now shared.
[...]
The irresistible aroma of roasted turkey wafted through the house, mingling with the scent of pumpkin pies and spices that promised a memorable dinner. Through the window, the golden light of an autumn evening softly spilled onto the dining room walls, painting everything with a warm, cozy glow. Sparky, ever vigilant for any sign of food, lay at the foot of the table, watching everyone’s movements like a little guardian.
“Tommy, if you put one more olive on that plate, I swear you won’t get dessert!” Wanda scolded, her voice filled with exasperation, though her eyes betrayed an amused glint.
“Mom, olives are the best part of dinner!” Tommy retorted, stacking a fourth olive in the corner of his plate as if building a tower. Billy, seated next to him, leaned in with a teasing grin.
“Let him be, Mom. At least that way he’s eating something, considering he always skips the vegetables.”
“I don’t skip them! I… selectively eat them,” Tommy corrected, raising an eyebrow.
Wanda ran a hand over her face, clearly resisting the urge to say more. She looked like the epitome of an exhausted mother: wrinkled apron, hair tied back in a hurried bun, and a furrow between her brows that revealed her struggle to keep everything under control. Watching from the kitchen as you sliced bread, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly.
“Relax, love. They’re just excited. It’s part of the holiday,” you said gently, crossing the space between the kitchen and the table with a plate of salad. Wanda turned toward you, her shoulders subtly relaxing at the sound of your voice.
“They’re going to drive me insane, that’s what’s going to happen,” she grumbled, though her words were tinged with affection.
Leaning in, you kissed her cheek, ignoring the muffled teasing coming from the boys.
“It’s only until dinner. I promise, after that, they’ll be calm and polite as angels.”
“Doubt it!” Billy called out loudly from across the table, laughing as Wanda narrowed her eyes at him.
Finally, everyone sat at the table, the golden turkey shining at the center, surrounded by colorful dishes: gratin potatoes, sautéed vegetables, pies, and sauces that completed the feast. Sparky, realizing it was mealtime, lay down again with an exaggerated sigh.
“Okay, kids, let’s give thanks for today,” you suggested, taking Wanda’s hand, who in turn took Tommy’s. The chain was formed. Billy glanced sideways at his brother before offering a small smile.
“I’m thankful for this new house and for Mom’s cooking,” Tommy said first, surprising everyone with his sincerity. Wanda blinked, clearly moved, but held herself together.
Billy, ever practical, smirked and said, “I’m thankful Sparky didn’t eat my snack this week. And for that pumpkin pie over there.”
Everyone laughed, breaking the momentary seriousness. Wanda squeezed your hand gently before speaking.
“I’m thankful for the family I chose and for the peace we have here. None of this would be possible without you.” She looked directly at you, her green eyes full of a tenderness that seemed to envelop her entirely.
You smiled, feeling your heart warm. “And I’m thankful for all of you. For being together, healthy, and happy. That’s all that matters.”
That night, as the boys slept in the room next door and Sparky snored at the foot of the couch, you and Wanda found each other in the small space of your new home, cups of tea in hand. The soft lights of the room illuminated only your faces, creating an intimate and cozy bubble.
“Do you realize we’re here now? Together. Like a family,” Wanda murmured, her voice tinged with a sweet incredulity. “I never imagined my life could be like this.”
“You deserve this, Wanda. You deserve love, you deserve peace.”
She smiled softly, her eyes glinting with some distant memory. “That trip to Paris… it was the best surprise I’ve ever had.”
You laughed, fondly recalling the moment. Wanda thought you were taking her just to celebrate your vacation, but both of you had a secret plan. On the first night, under the illuminated Eiffel Tower, you took her to dinner, pulled a ring from your pocket, and knelt before her. Wanda’s smile and tears were enough to calm any nerves.
What you hadn’t expected, however, was that she also had a ring hidden in her bag.
“It’s funny how we proposed to each other at the same time,” you said, laughing softly.
“I knew we were meant to be; I just needed a ring to make it official,” Wanda joked, leaning into you.
The memories mingled with the present: family dinners, the twins’ laughter, Sparky’s innocent antics, and the love that overflowed in every touch and shared glance between you. Life went on, and that moment was just a snapshot of a story that would continue long after the readers’ eyes closed.
Destiny is a quiet and unpredictable force, weaving invisible threads between souls that, somehow, were meant to find each other. Sometimes, it acts as a whisper in the wind, a shared glance in a church that grows into a grand story, the kind so impactful they become unpublishable.
The best love stories are the ones eyes can’t read, the ones words aren’t enough to tell. They are the stories that are felt or dreamed.
Some loves are born as sparks: they shine brightly but end in the same breath that started them. Others, however, carry eternity in the eyes of those who live them. They are built over years, with patience, courage, and even silence. These loves withstand time, crossing generations, and when life ends, they find a way to continue. Perhaps in another era, perhaps in another skin, but never in another heart. Because there are loves that don’t belong to just one life. They belong to destiny, and destiny, however whimsical, always finds a way to perpetuate what was born to be eternal.
We are all like pieces of coins that children break in half as keepsakes—turning one into two, like flounders—and each of us is always searching for our corresponding half.
And so all this commotion is a relic of that original state of ours, from when we were whole, and now, when we long for and pursue that primordial wholeness, we say we are in love.
And that was it. You had found your other half. Wanda was your primordial wholeness, and you were hers. The world might change around you, but that—that silent and secure love between you—would remain, unbreakable as velvet chains.
~*~
Thankiuuu so much for you read Velvet Chains!!! YEYY
I hope the ending met your expectations!
I dunno if i'll write anything before Christimas, so... MERRY CHRISTMAS you gayyys!
Inspired by Love Thy Neighbor by @lowkeyerror ❤️
Tag list <3
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@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher
@idkwhatever580 @valentine585
@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good
@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @bees-for-brains @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp
@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @sheriffswan-blog @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000
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miquellah · 2 months ago
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⚜️The @Miquellah Miquella Manifesto⚜️
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The big, long, TL;DR compilation about MY personal takes on Miquella of Elden Ring, as someone who's had him rotating in my head since pre-SOTE and has worked so hard to comprehend him since.
Usual disclaimer: this is purely a writeup of MY personal take, not necessarily views I'm saying you HAVE to adopt. For the most part all my takes are based on actual, in-lore truth ("Miquella had good intentions and wanted to save people") as well as stuff that is not stated, but still fits in cohesively to his narrative ("he does not actually experience romantic/sexual attraction at all, and is just acting on compulsory standards he THINKS he needs to adhere to")
Additionally, I will probably be periodically updating this to add in sections or info I'd forgotten, along with anything new. There is a Lot to say. And of course, CW for discussion of incest in the Radahn and also Mohg sections.
⚜️ Motives
Here we start. Nooo, he did not want power for power's sake. If anything, power, and the ascension needed to attain it, was just a means he was conditioned into believing he NEEDED in order to save others. Unfortunately Miquella himself is also unable to solve anything at the root cause, and can only apply “bandaid” solutions— such as Leda’s paranoia being only pacified, as well as Hornsent’s vengeful grudge. It is likely he did wish to charm everyone under his rule in much the same manner, but this would not have actually solved any problems, only ignored them entirely.
It has apparently been found that Miquella's wish to bury "the original sin" was actually localized from something more akin to that of "karma" in JP; this is likely in some thematic reference to the Golden Order's Law of Causality, which states that "all things are linked in a chain of relation"-- cause and effect. Strife is caused by previous wrongdoings, the cycle of violence. If one could annul causality itself (by refusing individuals the ability to seek revenge or cause strife), one could theoretically end suffering itself.
⚜️ Morality
Miquella is SO "Good"-aligned, truly, that it circles right all the way around to being harmful. His faults are actually in that he still continues to utilize the same system as that his mother did, with its own rotten foundations— no one, single person should have omnipotence over others, no matter how Good their intentions. He is also, ultimately, not able to see others as anything other than “people to be saved”, while also mentally trapping himself into the role of “someone who has to act as savior”. Miquella has the inability to see others as those who are fully capable of their own fates, and he is also unable to respect himself this same way (see in contrast to Ranni).
Miquella's place in the narrative is to make us question ourselves and our own good intentions, to serve as a cautionary tale in that good intentions alone do not inherently make us incapable of harm. Also, perhaps to pose the philosophical question of "if free will causes suffering, IS it truly bad to remove it?" (Which the game then answers itself, even still).
Related Posts: Here, Here
⚜️ Charm
Summary Pending
Related Posts: Here, Here
⚜️ Malenia
Miquella and Malenia are symbiotic; she fulfills what he cannot (strength, physical combat prowess), and he fulfills what she cannot (charisma, social and political navigation). I would even dare to say that her sake and need for salvation is the very origin, and core, of his motives for all his big plans. Miquella did not abandon her, or at least, had absolutely no intention of doing so. That's us who kept him from returning lol.
Some people seem to think she may have had doubts in him? But I think she was absolutely on board, and that she was the last person who he would EVER need to charm. She has every reason to want to see his plan go through, because almost everything he does is FOR her, this included. Also I like when we allow women agency in their decisions!
Related Posts: Here
⚜️ Mohg
God don't even get me started on trying to figure out the exact timeline here. Personally, I don't feel Miquella left/allowed himself to be kidnapped willingly, nor did he manipulate these events. I'm willing to believe that he and Mohg perhaps worked together at some capacity, at some point in time-- I do believe he truly cared about Mohg, and pitied him. While everyone else sees the use of Mohg's corpse to house Radahn's soul, and thinks it was a move made from apathy or spite, I think Miquella personally felt it was a means of honoring him. Mohg had such adoration for him, and so dearly wished to be his consort; by that means, even after the Tarnished has killed him, this can still be accomplished.
Miquella had no feelings for him, but Mohg absolutely was in love with him. Difficult to say just how much of this was the charm? But even post-SOTE I still think that Mohg having incestuous adoration still fits for his character, as someone so pitifully depraved of love all his life, and finding a potential salvation in Miquella.
Miquella's charm didn't make Mohg do all that blood cult shit either by the way. That was all him babeyyy. We can't keep forgetting The Formless Mother herself, or refuse to let Mohg have any faults or agency at all.....
Related Posts: Here
⚜️ Radahn
Originally I had been on-board with "Radahn was unwilling and puppeteered the whole time", but I've since seen some compelling talk hinting otherwise. I'm on board with the latter, now, as I do think Radahn WOULD have been all for Miquella's plan from the start, and I also want the guy to have some amount of agency at all lmao. But I think the narrative also does intentionally obfuscate this on purpose.
But, Radahn WAS kind, and that IS what Miquella sought for someone as a lord. I think Radahn's whole motivation in seeking to emulate Godfrey is that he wanted to be a HERO, and to SAVE people from suffering, much in the way it was deemed Godfrey liberated the people and served as lord. Of course, Godfrey himself was no admirable man when it actually comes down to his sins, and we are meant to see the parallels in Radahn and Miquella almost completely copying Godfrey and Marika in path.
Personally, I also don't see their dynamic as romantic, but purely political, and/or both of them believing they NEEDED to be married in order to solve all of their problems-- because that is what ascension in and of itself requires.
Related Posts: Here, Here
⚜️ Trina
Don't even get me started on trying to comprehend the nature of Rebises in Elden Ring lore. But, importantly, Trina is the key to understanding Miquella's fate, and that he's both sympathetic as well as dooming himself by choosing to ascend. Additionally, I feel he also knew that by dooming himself, he would've been dooming Trina... so of course, as someone he loved, he would've tried to keep her as far away from sharing his fate as possible.
Her penchant for the element of Sleep is also notable in that it parallels his methods for quelling harm. Sleep is a means of staving off suffering, but again, only as a "bandaid" of sorts, and not actually solving any root cause. Trina herself even mirrors Miquella's inability to change, or to create meaningful change.
⚜️ Godwyn
I'll get around to this eventually. Plenty of others have talked around this/the Eclipse tho
⚜️ Miscellaneous
Personally I headcanon his sexuality as aroace, but comphet. Miquella does not actually experience romantic or sexual attraction, but his surroundings and politics place such an emphasis on things such as marriage, that he believes he must conform to this as well.
Apparently the actual scale of his child form is still more or less the height of the Tarnished’s model�� which makes sense, actually, with the Great Rune growth aspects. Therefore even childform!Miquella is probably around 5’7.
I prefer transmasc Miquella because like [motions to all of my being transmasc], BUT am equally 100% on board with all the clear transfem readings in the narrative. I think you've really gotta give him some sort of gender, some sort of way.
.⚜️.
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yandereshingeki · 10 months ago
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The Antithesis of Decay
made for @ficsforgaza’s Kinktober!
⬑ please check them out! ⬏
Masterlist
Word Count: 2.2k
Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x afab!reader
Content Warnings: Stuckage, fingering, dub/noncon, no gendered pronouns, but reader is described to have bigger hips than their waist (no big specifications though). meant to take place between s3 & 4
Summary: An escape through the alleyway ends in a terrifying run-in with a wanted villain.
Managed to write this entirely in a single day 😵‍💫 it gave me a headache doing it that fast but thank god i got it done! It was a lot longer than I intended (stuckage is hard to keep short akhsheja & i originally wanted to go full smut but then wrote too much) and was a little bit difficult to navigate cause I don’t think about shiggy in a sexual way BUT !! I DID IT!
This is also the first time I'm posting something I've written in present tense, I'm just trying to experiment and figure out how I like to write lol
Shiggy lovers i hope this is adequate!!
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Another crash. Another roar. Another Nomu.
You're in the thick of it, beside a building, half-destroyed, and another one completely toppled to the ground. There's screaming and panic, citizens running in every which way to escape the crossfire. Another building is about to collapse, and the monsters take no hesitation in using it as leverage to fight.
There are other heroes here, maybe three, or even more now if there were any on patrol nearby; it isn't clear through the fog of dirt and smoke. It isn't enough though. None of you had the strength or stamina to fight against the group of Nomus that appeared. Especially not by yourselves, even if you barely outnumbered them. The rubble is building. The ground is practically shaking under their destructive hands. They have the absolute advantage.
  Your quirk isn't built for such a fight, even as a pro, and your combat skills would prove useless against those monsters. You're meant to be more of a support hero than anything, someone usually waiting on the sidelines to rush in and heal the defending heroes in fights. The limits of your restorative quirk meant it was wise to steer clear from the heart of the battle and avoid being hurt, so the best course of action would be to run. Run and find backup. That's the most you can do for now; the most you can try to save what remains of that small city sector.
You choose your path quickly, remaining observant of the chaos around you. Cracked asphalt and concrete, dust flying everywhere from the destruction, debris from the second half-collapsed building scattered everywhere. The Nomus remain distracted by the other heroes, so despite the obstacles, there's a clear path to the closest alleyway. From there, if you can just reach the other side of the buildings and escape harm's way, you'll be safe to make the call.
You can make it, you believe — as long as you're fast. Confident, you take off, bound for the crack between two untouched office buildings nearby, the spring in your costume's boots allowing you to move more efficiently. With such quick speed, you nearly run face-first into the wall, entering it at an angle that's easy to correct with a simple push off against the brick. From there, the path is a straight shot to the other side, only separated by a feeble chain link fence. There's a hole that looks just big enough for you to crawl through at the bottom of it, the wire pried upward to create a gap. You can make it, you repeat in your head. The coast is clear, you can make it.
  Stumbling to a stop in front of the mesh barrier, you drop to your knees as quickly as your body will allow, planting yourself onto your stomach afterward. The opening is much smaller up close, but it's nothing you can't army-crawl your way through. Your costume was made to be dirtied and protect you in the heat of conflict, so having it scrape across the rocky ground while you drag your way under the fence isn't an issue. Its durability was the least of your problems — until now, that is..
  The elastic fabric snags on the wire once you squeeze your head and arms through the hole. Time is sensitive, you don’t have any to waste on something trivial like this. You try to reach back to untangle it, only to find the wire completely stabbed through. 
  With a heavy sigh and adrenaline crawling in your veins at the delay, you manage to move back a sizable distance before you try again, but it’s useless. The ends of the wires are sharp and stab into your suit with ease, holding you back. You needed to try something else, you needed to be fast.
  Before you can attempt to force your way through the hole, a voice arises behind you. Raspy and hoarse, you don’t even realize he's there until he speaks.
  “Oh, look at what we have here. A hero, is it?”
  His approach is slow, and you only hear his footsteps once he's standing over you. Your entire body goes stiff, your blood running cold as you curve your spine back to look at him.
  "Shigaraki," you whisper, terrified, under your breath. 
  "Oh, you know me already? How nice, I suppose we can skip the introductions then." 
  You can hear your breath hitch in your throat when he speaks and feel his presence as he looms right behind you, bending at the knees to crouch down over your legs.
  "I've seen you on TV," he starts, and you hold back a scream when you feel four rough fingers gently touch the back of your thigh, "You've got quite the impressive quirk, you know. Restoration quirks are hard to come by. And yours…"
  He pauses again, glides them up to where your hip and femur jointed together, and relishes in the way you shiver before he continues, "It's the exact opposite of mine. I guess you can only restore organic things, sure, but — it does make me wonder."
  You're hardly listening to his little ramble, your heartbeat drumming too loud in your ears to process anything — but then, your head goes blank when you feel all five of his fingers cup around your hip. Panic sets in fast, and you find yourself writhing before you can think, trying to force your way through the fence. The metal wires only dig into your skin, causing even more pain as you realize you're hips are too big to fit, and you wouldn't have made it anyway.
  Tomura only chuckles lightly at your reaction, watching the bottom half of your hero suit disintegrate into dust. You don't even realize it until you're already crying, and a cold breeze hits your face and bottom half. His hand is on you. Touching you. Feeling you, and yet.
  You don't feel any pain. His touch is simply normal against your skin. His palm is surprisingly warm, but dry. And you don't disintegrate. You don't disintegrate.
  Tomura laughs again at wide eyes and gaping mouth as if you should have expected his quirk to cancel out with yours. He slides his palm across your bottom, down to the back of your thigh again to caress it up and down slowly. Carefully. His touch lingers far longer than you're comfortable with.
  "Your quirk activates automatically when it's your own body, right? I wonder how long I can keep doing this for, then." He speaks so casually, acting like you weren't trapped and half-bare under him.
  "I've always wanted to be able to touch someone like this again. No gloves, no barriers. Just skin. When I saw you on the news and heard about your quirk, I thought you were perfect. Aside from that pesky hero stuff, that is," he frowned slightly behind the hand on his face, moving his own to grip at the fat of your ass, "You have no idea how frustrating it is to be unable to touch something without it falling apart."
  You let out a loud squeak, feeling his weight on the back of your knees when he sits on them, squeezing and kneading your flesh in his hand. There are tears in your eyes, and you struggle to twist around to look back at him, where he sits proudly like a king on his throne. Seeing such a widely known villain — being face to face, but being stuck and having him touch you like this. It felt humiliating. Humiliating to who you were as a person and a hero. You felt sick to your stomach.
  He frowns a little at the pathetic look you give him, only tightening his hold more, "Come on, don't look like that. I haven't done anything yet."
  As he speaks, he slides another hand underneath you and pulls your hips up slightly, your spine beginning to ache at how it was strained. You can only shake as you watch him, the hand that was gripping your ass moving to slide a single finger down the center of your underwear, sending a large jolt up your spine.
  In an instant, you look forward again, covering your mouth to hold back any noise you'd almost let out. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of making a sound, let it be cries or anything. So you force yourself to silence, even as tears roll down your face.
  Tomura only grins, running the finger up and down the fabric a few more times just to feel you jolt before hooking around the lining to pull it off to the side, stuffing it between your thigh and outer labia to keep you exposed. You clench up at the cold air, another shudder roving through your body as Tomura holds back a chuckle.
  Without another thought or word, he immediately dives in, his two fingers sliding between your folds, feeling whatever you can offer him before moving down to the bud below. You shiver, but are otherwise completely frozen as he does this, not even knowing half of what to do to retaliate.
  "Not too wet yet, I see. That's ok, I can fix that." He says, beginning to prod around for that extra sensitive spot he knew you wouldn't resist. A lightbulb goes off in his head when you jolt suddenly, your hips shaking extra whenever he squishes or pokes at it. With a grin plastered under that embalmed hand, he starts to move his fingers around in slow, gentle circles.
  The coarseness of his fingers doesn't help the sensation they bring on, that feeling of soft ecstasy pulsing through your body slowly like a drum. You hold back your sounds, at least, only your breathing growing heavy as he watches you clench around nothing. 
  It isn't enough for him. He needs more than this, he needs you prepared, and that wouldn’t come from just a few measly touches. 
  His fingers move faster, gaining enough friction that he has you audibly gasping, slick already building up just below. It doesn't take as long as expected, like your body is reacting on primal need. It almost makes him wonder — maybe you're getting off to the position he has you in, even if you don't realize it.
  He gives you a few more minutes of soft touching, allowing a good amount of wetness to accumulate between your shaking thighs before moving his fingers up. He gathers your natural lube on his digits, humming as he slathers it all over your pussy to make it nice and glossy before dipping them back in, finally allowing them to take the plunge.
  As if you weren't already amply humiliated, the way his fingers toy with you before pressing in is distracting enough that he manages to draw a squeak out of you the second he dives in.
  "Ohh, give me more of that. Don't be shy." He says, sliding his digits out slowly, licking his lips at how slick they are before shoving them back in.
  His fingers are so long, soaking knuckle-deep inside of you and reaching parts that your own couldn't. You would rather die at his hands now than ever admit it to anyone, but god, it feels good.
  He's already moving them so fast, curling them all around like he's searching for something. It felt too good to be touched by someone like that. You haven't slept with another person for over a year, so it's like a new foreign feeling and an old friend all at once. You can't stop yourself. Your brain grows foggier with each drag of his fingers, like he's scratching an itch you couldn’t by yourself. You couldn't hold it back anymore.
  You let out a quiet, croaked moan, covering your face with your hands to hide how embarrassing it is to indulge in something so crude with someone like him.
  A wretched smile immediately dawns on Tomura's face, and he moves his hand even faster, trying to milk more sounds out of you before he moves on. He wants you to make more noise, to hear how good a disgusting villain like him is making a great hero like you feel.
  From there, the sounds just spilled out. He’s surprisingly quick to find the smooth spot inside of you, pumping over it repeatedly until you’re a wriggling, gasping mess. The coil inside of you is winding up tight, growing ready to burst at almost any second. 
  It's so degrading, being face down in the concrete while a villain is digging his fingers so deep into you. But you weren’t thinking about that anymore. Your mind is too focused on how good it feels rubbing against your walls, the friction driving you crazy with how fast it builds up.
  Then, like electricity in your veins, it comes crashing through your body all at once. The pleasure, the ecstasy. Your body practically vibrates against his hand, an unforgiving orgasm ripping through your entire system until you’re panting like a dog, still pulsing around him as he slowly removes his fingers and wipes them on your thigh.
  As you return from your high, the quiet chuckling unnerves you. And then you feel sick to your stomach again. You’re still recovering, but you’ve come to your senses enough to look behind you.
  The sight you see has bile rising in your throat. He’s already grabbed onto you again, unzipping his pants with one hand while he speaks.
  “So, what do you think your little hero friends would think if you had sex with a villain?”
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zewik7 · 2 months ago
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How to gain weight on a budget
First of all, a premise: different countries have different "cheap foods" (eg. here in Italy we don't have eggs costing 12€, they cost just around 2€ for a pack of six!), so this guide may be only partially of help if you're not in Italy and/or EU.
Cheapest sources of calories are things like (kcal stated are per 100 grams):
Olive Oil (~899 kcal)
Lard (~891 kcal)
Seeds' Oils (~884 kcal)
Butter (~717 kcal)
Peanut Butter (~625 kcal)
Mayonnaise (~655 kcal)
Seeds like Sweet Almonds, Nuts and so on (~610 kcal)
Chocolate (~552 kcal)
Nutella (~540 kcal)
Bacon (~458 kcal)
Sugar (~387 kcal)
Whole Grain Pasta (~353 kcal)
Flour (~341 kcal)
The list might go on, but these right here are the most caloric foods and ingredients you can find for a relative cheap price almost anywhere.
Noticed anything? The vast majority of food considered "caloric" didn't made to this list... things like rice (~130 kcal), potatoes (~77 kcal) and whole milk (~64 kcal) can't even get near the last entry (flour) value! Even avocadoes (~231 kcal) are nowhere near it!
Let's now go fetching prices... Disclaimer: you DON'T HAVE TO buy brand products! In fact, I almost always buy off brand. I'm in no position to pay for the name of something and not for the actual product...
I wanted to use LIDL prices since it's a pretty common discount superstore chain here in Italy and, I presume, in the whole EU, BUT I had a lot of difficulties finding their prices. So, I'll use instead another common superstore chain here in Italy, EUROSPIN, which has a database that can be consulted via its phone app.
Now, some prices might be tricky, because some items on the list actually arent' that cheap... but, if we consider them "long-term consume" items, those prices are actually more sensible.
For this reason, I'll then point for each item how many times I buy the item.
Olive Oil (5 liters bottle = 24,50€. I buy it once every 5 months)
Lard (500 grams = 1,70€. I buy two of them every 10 days)
Seeds' Oils (5 liters bottle = 7,50€. I buy it once every 6 or 7 months)
Butter (1 kg = 8,50€. I buy it once every month)
Peanut Butter (350 grams = 2,30€. I don't use it (I don't like it very much lol))
Mayonnaise (500 grams = 1,70€. I buy two of them every month)
Seeds like Sweet Almonds, Nuts and so on (200 grams = 3,00€. I bulk on them 2 weeks per month, so I buy 7 of them  every month)
Chocolate (500 grams = 5,00€. I buy two of them every month)
Nutella (NOT THE REAL BRAND ONE!! 750 grams = 3,50€. I don't buy it since I don't like it, but my wife does lol)
Bacon (Strips: 1 kg = 7,50€; cubes: 200 grams = 1,50€. I buy it in bulk when on sale and freeze it)
Sugar (1 kg = 0,90€. I buy it whenever it's about to end, less than 1 a month tho)
Whole Grain Pasta (1 kg = 0,90€. I buy it in bulk, preferably on sale but not necessarily; I eat it twice a day so we end up buy it a lot (more than 10 packs per month)
Flour (5 kg = 1,90€. We buy it every once in a while when it's about to finish).
What to eat and stuff on
My daily eating routine is usually about baked snacks and pasta: at the meals I eat pasta (usually paired with legumes like lentils or beans) and fried finger food (you HAVE to eat your greens, so why not frying them and eating them with mayo?), between the meals I snack on muffins and cakes and cinnamon rolls. 
I understand that mine is a privileged place, since my wife works just half of a whole day, so this arrangement could not work for everyone and someone may rely on packaged snacks more!
I hope this little guide could be of help to anyone needing it 🥺
Stay strong, stay fat! 🐷♥️
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hotchsofficialwifey · 2 years ago
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okay hear me out... mike schmidt with goth!fem!reader (be warned: i'm not goth so this might not be very accurate lol)
he met you while he was working at the mall, eyed you from across hot topic. despite your intimidating black clothes, chains, and eye makeup, you had one of the sweetest smiles he'd ever seen, instantly drawing him to you. you said good morning to the worker with one of those perfect smiles and he immediately felt butterflies in his stomach.
he started hanging out at the hot topic more frequently. he began to pick up on your schedule, too. you'd usually come on Saturday's between 12-3pm, circle through the food court and your favorite stores (one time he even caught you at Victoria's Secret, but didn't go in, for obvious reasons). he felt a little creepy, but it wasn't like he was stalking you, just keeping you safe (this was his bullshit excuse). some part of you was simply magnetic, pulling him in like a siren, wrapping him around your finger so tightly he never wanted to be let go.
after a few weeks or so of this same routine, he got fired for beating up a man in broad daylight, and had to get a shitty job at Fazbear's Pizzeria. the only part of that job he missed was you, but his yearning would soon come to an end. he went on various apps, websites, whatever he could to find a babysitter for abby while he was at work, when he found your profile on one of the apps. you were around his age, lived in the same town, and were looking for a job as a babysitter. perfect! he got in contact with you shortly after, and you were fast to reply. you set up a day, time and location, and the next night you were there, knocking on his door.
it was as if the closer he got to you, the prettier you were. pink lips overlined with black liner, flared black jeans paired with a Siouxsie and The Banshees t-shirt, eyeliner so sharp it could probably poke him and black converse covered in doodles. you were more casual than usual, obviously, but god, you were beautiful. you hit him with one of your dazzling smiles, introduced yourself to him and abby (abby instantly liked you), and he went off to work, the scent of your sandalwood perfume on his mind.
you got closer over the months you babysat abby. he came home early in the morning, but you always made breakfast (not only were you beautiful, but amazingly sweet). he didn't pay you as consistently as you originally hoped he would, but you were begin to grow a crush on him, so you didn't really mind. it got to the point where you two even exchanged numbers, using work as an excuse, but you mostly talked and sent memes to each other. but what he admired most about you is how good you were with abby. you guys drew together, watched cartoons together, laughed together, you even did tarot readings for her. abby would fill him in on every little detail of your night together, start to finish. she adored you, and you adored her, which only made him fall harder for you.
the love confession was unexpected, but really sweet. he had invited you over for dinner before he went to work, which he often did, but after you put abby to bed and sat down on the couch with him...
"thanks for everything you do for us." he blurted suddenly. your face suddenly felt very warm, and you bashfully replied.
"it's no big deal, really. i like spending time with abby..." fuck it, you thought. "and with you." you stared at each other for a moment, tension in the air, before he kissed you. slowly, softly, easing you into it. it got heated quickly, and one thing left to another, and he was forty minutes late for work (but it was so worth it).
a/n: okay, this wasn't as focused on the goth part as I wanted it to be, but wtvr. i'll be doing headcannons for goth!reader later!! for now, here's some backstory lol
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adventuringblind · 10 days ago
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star wars landoscar???? tell me everything, i am invested, i neeeedd iiiiiitttttt
Fair warning that this Jedi bashes a bit! (she says while four red lightsabers are ignited behind her because she and her husband think the Jedi morals are kind of dumb)... Also it's kind of a tangent, whoops-
Force abilities, to me, are one of the most interesting concepts. Force empathy is one of them. Oscar has this specific ability, and while not inherently attachment driven, Little youngling Oscar can't separate that and gets attached too quickly for the Jedi to be okay with. It's his main drive in decision making and still can't separate the two as he gets older and does more questioning about how the council is operating because he is just a sponge of personal information. That makes him dangerous. Oscar straight up runs away because he's tired of it and meets Mark who ends up training him instead.
Lando is the Jedi golden child and standard to follow, but it took them a long time to get there. Lots of discipline. He doesn't question things and just accepts the councils word as law (now, lol, it took them a while to get here).
He meets Oscar and that sets of a chain of events of Lando trying to figure out why this guy has such an interest in him.
He does a lot of soul searching in this time. Because feelings are new and unexplored and he's horny but doesn't really know what to do with that. Oscar keep managing to be where Lando is a can tell so he starts whispering words of advice into Lando's innocent ears and eventually we get a well timed 'choke me' from Lando who is using fighting as foreplay.
There is smut eventually, a few times, because now Lando is insatiable. There is also a lot of drama and emotions because the unhinged force choking porn idea spiraled into whatever this is.
unedited snippet below the cut :)
The strangers is pale, skin gratified with moles and freckles, soft brown eyes and hair to match. Short, but pieces stick out and the front looks like it's trying to wave but can't.
Black robes. Lightsaber on his hip. Decidedly not a Jedi even if he looks exactly like one.
"Who are you and what do you want with me?" Lando unfolds himself, poised just in case.
The stranger laughs. The keeling over wheezing kind. "Well Lando, if you must know, my name is Oscar." He takes a dramatic bow but keeps eye contact the entire time. "And I'd very much like for you to point me in the direction of your master."
How does this man—Oscar—know his name? Have they met before? "What do you want with him?" He tries to keep his voice flat but something about Oscar makes it wobble. A horrible thing that makes him feel small—a fear he can't remember.
Oscar smiles, lopsided with a few teeth showing. "I mean, the usual goal is to take him hostage but I'm sure my Master wouldn't mind his head on a platter." He sounds like he's joking. Lando can't read his intent, or him in general. his whole presence is unnerving.
Lando reaches for his saber, unclipping it from his belt with a growl in his throat. He ignites it and illuminates the darkening hall in a green glow. "You must be the reason we're here."
"Perhaps, but I'd say you're a much better prize. I hadn't realized Master Rosberg would be bringing you with." Oscar doesn't go for his weapon. Actually, he looks unnervingly calm. Finally, he tilts his head. "I thought you were joking—do you really not know why you're here?"
A hot wave of shame floods his veins, searing its way through his body. "I trust my Master."
Oscar snorts. "Of course you do. Everyone in the republic trusts the Jedi implicitly." He leans against the wall, head tilted back to expose the expanse of pale neck.
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milkycarnations · 1 year ago
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HC's for the creeps aftercare after a rough night with their SO?
A rough night or a rough night? ;) Let's do both. Please keep sending stuff to my inbox I'm obsessed. For context, the sfw ones still apply in the nsfw context lol. I wanted the sfw ones to apply even in the context of just going through some tough shit.
Tim
sfw:
Makes you breakfast the next day - let's you pick. Or gets something for you if you prefer something from a cafe/restaurant/fast food chain.
You want a sausage egg McMuffin and breakfast ends in three minutes? He's gonna find a way to get you that sandwich.
He really believes in food as comfort and love, so whatever you prefer he wants to make happen.
nsfw:
Can't stop staring at you. Like, it's almost disturbing how his eyes are on you constantly.
Prefers if you don't get dressed, but if you must, would ask you to wear a long t-shirt or a slip.
In this moment, you could literally ask him to do anything for you - and he would. Use that information however you please. He just wants to pamper you.
Brian
sfw:
Won't let you go until you ask him to, even if he's lying in bed all day.
When you're genuinely bothered or upset by something, he can soften up and be really good support for whatever it is.
If cuddling for very long isn't your thing, then he's content just being near you.
nsfw:
This man is so smug.
Of course, if you're in sub drop or anything, he's going to go easy on you, but the back and forth between you doesn't really stop. He will bring up whatever happened and kind of keep that going - even if you're a bit embarrassed now that you came.
Really - he just wants to work you up all over again and keep the game going for just a little bit longer. I really do believe he's a mean dom and really does get off on humiliating you. He will remind you of everything embarrassing you did for him.
Jack
sfw:
Makes you drink a glass of water - even if you say you aren't thirsty. He knows you're dehydrated.
If you're hungry now, he'll make you a meal, but he's not opposed to waiting. He makes you what you like the most, whether that's from that restaurant you like or just Kraft mac n' cheese.
nsfw:
He knows what he's doing and he already has everything set up. He's cleaning you up with a warm towel before you can even catch your breath. He doesn't want you to get an infection, after all.
Usually spitting praises and compliments to you.
Often suggests a bath together - even though he can't fit in the tub at all.
Toby
sfw
Now is the perfect time for adventure. Wants to go on a night walk.
Just wants to go out and do things with you alone in nature - pretend to not exist to the rest of society with you.
You'll walk down the empty 2 am street and just talk about whatever's on your mind. Sit on the swings at the park and kick rocks enjoying each other's company.
nsfw:
His aftercare is horny.
He'll still be touching you in ways, or still be inside of you.
He's a biter and finds himself still giving little nibbles to your neck, but when he finally stops, he catches himself running his fingers over the love bites.
It's all fervent and reckless, but not neglectful. I don't really know how else to describe it like that. Toby loves like a teenage boy loves his first girl friend - unabashed and adventurous - even though he's an adult now.
Jeff
sfw:
He's a rock. Your rock, but still a rock. I don't imagine it's easy to get him all empathetic, but he's still there for your struggles.
Encourages more of an activity - cooking a meal together, smoking, whatever it may be.
nsfw:
I'll be honest, I think sex with him is very primal and animalistic. He's not too keen on you cleaning yourself up immediately after, so if you're cuddling he'll try to convince you to sit in it.
Obviously he won't force you, he just thinks it's hot when you get physically exerted over something. It plays into this dynamic of sneaky, taboo sex where you get off and then go along with your day pretending nothing happened. Might not be there emotionally, but again - he'll ask if you want to go out and do something.
Liu
sfw:
He definitely feels with you the most. Whatever emotions you're going through, he parrots them very easily.
A back rubber. Just constantly running his fingers over your back in gentle caresses. Wipes your tears gently, if you have any. Pokes your cheeks when you smile.
nsfw:
In regards to sex, Liu always makes you a cup of tea after. He's narrowed down your preferences (but I always like to think he'd give you unsweetened peppermint tea - unless you don't like it).
Prefers silent cuddles after sex. Usually this lasts for about half an hour (unless it's right before bed.)
Nina
sfw:
You probably fell asleep while watching movies or something. The movie is still playing when you wake up.
A moment for self-care and pampering. Pedicures, facials, and backrubs. Real stereotypical "girl" stuff - even if you aren't a girl. She wants the sleepover experience with you.
nsfw:
I imagine her aftercare for sex is very similar.
She doesn't want you to dress, but if you do, she insists you wear a cute matching robe with her and fuzzy slippers.
Lots of pillow talk - she really isn't content with just being quiet and cuddling.
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sacred-coffin · 2 months ago
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Today I present you thoughts on elemental demon ghoul magic. First of all. I think it's nothing grand or exciting, in my opinion. It's mostly about the imagery & the aesthetic for me, not so much for utility or whatever
Fire ghouls: I like to think they can snap their fingers and make a flame like a little lighter. Because it's awesome. I think they tend to have a higher body temp/radiate more heat than a normal person. Alpha is especially warm, whereas Dewdrop & Ifrit are only mildly warm. Sometimes they puff out little clouds of smoke when they huff or get angry. I like to depict them with heat vents sometimes, so those might smoke too.
Water ghouls: they are so DAMP. Water condenses on their skin constantly. Some more than others, of course, but I haven't thought much about how and who. Chain's hair seems to always be a little damp. Also ofc I think they have gills :3 sometimes I like to think of them growing fins in the water, but idk. Either way they don't really have fins when they're on land.
Air: I think they can cause subtle shifts or changes in the air around them; usually unconsciously. One of my favorite thoughts is that the air pressure in a room increases when Cumulus gets mad LOL. I also think they tend to be light/softer than other ghouls, but I'm not super sold on that. I think sometimes the know what the weather might be like, or when a storm is going to roll in. If it's a lightning storm, Cirrus is prone to accidentally shocking people.
Earth: ok first of all I think they're rocks. Sorry. I don't vibe with them being plant guys :( anyways. i think if they're mad and stomp their feet, sometimes the ground can crack if it's like stone. Sometimes when Mountain laughs too hard, the ground around him tremors a bit. they can identify any rock by touch, sight, taste, whatever. and also they grow rocks on their body, but when they're topside the rocks grow at the same rate they do in reality. which is very. very. very. slowly. some stop growing entirely! but it's kind of impossible to notice. the earth ghouls probably notice though.
Quintessence: do you remember when you would wave your hand in front of the big box tv and you could feel the static? I think quint ghouls feel like that sometime. some strange fuzzy feeling. i think they sometimes give off this aura of unease to people who don't know them. they feel like they shouldn't be here. but i also think they just know things sometimes. Omega has a pretty good read on people's emotions, sometimes they bleed into his own. Aether is pretty good at catching people before they have an accident. Phantom seems to always know the right thing to say (although usually it's just the most optimal joke)
For multi ghouls, they kind of end up having a collection of these traits, but it has a lot of variation. Swiss has a little bit of everything, whereas Aurora has more air ghoul traits and almost no fire ghoul traits.
This is just a little taste of ideas that I have, but I think they get to the core of how I feel about their magic.
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torahoes · 8 months ago
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(IDOLiSH7) Haruka Isumi - 16PRODUCERS Rabbit Chat
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Please note that I am not a professional translator. If you come across any mistakes, feel free to let me know and I will make the necessary corrections.
Haruka Isumi:
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Haruka Isumi:
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Haruka Isumi: Oh, you read it already
Torao Mido: What’s this? You’re early, Haruka
Haruka Isumi: So are you! Are you done with your shoot already?
Torao Mido:
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Torao Mido: Are you happy?
Haruka Isumi: I'm
Haruka Isumi: I'm not not happy....
Haruka Isumi: 😑😑😑
Torao Mido: What's with that, lol
Haruka Isumi: It’s nothing!!! 😑
Torao Mido: I was supposed to do the interview during my commute, but the shoot ended earlier than expected, so I’ve got some time to kill
Torao Mido: Your text popped up the moment I opened my phone.
Haruka Isumi: Hmmmmm
Haruka Isumi: We’ve still got time. Wanna talk about something?
Torao Mido: Let’s play Word Chain [1]
Haruka Isumi: LMAO
Haruka Isumi: Are you looking to lose to me again? 🥴
Torao Mido: I'm determined to win this time. I’ve come prepared with a strategy
Haruka Isumi: That's hilarious lolol
Haruka Isumi: Well, whatever 🥴 I'll take you on! Let's start with the letter “L”!
Torao Mido: Lip
Haruka Isumi: Princess
Torao Mido: Soup
Haruka Isumi: Print
Torao Mido: Tomato ketchup
Haruka Isumi: Wait, why do you keep attacking me with words that end with "P"?!?!?!?!
Torao Mido: That’s right. Now you know I’m not the same person you're used to facing. I’ve even overcome my fear of “H”
Haruka Isumi: Why am I being repaid for that one time right now!!!
Haruka Isumi: Plastic!
Torao Mido: Crepe
Haruka Isumi: UGHHHHHHH [2]
Shiro Utsugi: Great work today, you two! Are you getting fired up talking about foods starting with “P"?
Shiro Utsugi: Pudding! I’ve been really into it lately. The firmer ones are just so delicious
Haruka Isumi: Oh
Shiro Utsugi: Eh?
Torao Mido: Guess the game’s over now
Shiro Utsugi: Wait, were you playing Word Chain?! Ahhhh, I’m so sorry!! I totally ruined it for you guys!!!
Haruka Isumi: Not at all, it's fine. Actually, I should be thanking you!! 🥴 You saved me from losing
Torao Mido: That’s alright, I’ll just keep honing my skills for the next time
Haruka Isumi: And I’ll just beat you again then! Anyway, isn't it time already? Let's begin, Utsugi-san!
Shiro Utsugi: Thank you very much 😭 Once again, we’ve been asked to capture your usual relaxed interactions, so we'll be conducting the interview in this format using Rabbit Chat!
Shiro Utsugi: Isumi-san, please tell us how you felt when you heard Mido-san would be producing you!
Haruka Isumi: To be totally honest, I really had no idea how he was going to go about producing me!
Haruka Isumi: I mean, when I think about how Torao sees me, I imagine stuff like “good at singing,” “knows a lot about sweets,” or “really good at Word Chain.” I figured he’d be thinking along those lines lol 🤔
Torao Mido: Yeah, I guess we've never really had a proper conversation about what I think you're like as an idol and all that
Torao Mido: But after listening to the song, did you get a sense of how I see you?
Haruka Isumi: Mhm. I mean, sorry if I’m wrong, but...
Haruka Isumi: Torao, do you maybe actually like me quite a bit...?
Torao Mido: Well, it's not like I dislike you, right!? What do you take me for?
Haruka Isumi: RIGHT!? That's what I thought too... it's just that the lyrics and melody were so straightforward
Haruka Isumi: It felt like you really captured me in a song. Even though it was my first time hearing it, it didn’t feel like the first time at all
Shiro Utsugi: It really is a passionate song with a strong message! Mido-san, could you please share how you decided on the direction?
Torao Mido: Haruka has always been radiant
Torao Mido: He never lies to himself about his feelings. Whether he's happy or sad, he expresses those emotions openly. I've always kind of admired that about him.
Torao Mido: He possesses the kind of overwhelming power that can pierce through the pitch-black night and propel us toward the bright blue sky. Haruka was always at the forefront, leading us to brighter places. Like a hero.
Torao Mido: I packed that strength of his into "Aoku."
Haruka Isumi: You think I’m like a hero?
Torao Mido: Yeah.
Haruka Isumi: I see... I didn't know. It’s pretty rare for you to say such things openly, so it makes me really happy
Torao Mido: I'm glad we're doing this over Rabbit Chat
Haruka Isumi: I’d rather you said it to my face!!!
Torao Mido: No way! That’d be way too embarrassing.
Haruka Isumi: Well, fair enough 😆 But y'know, I think you’re like a hero too, Torao
Torao Mido: Me?
Haruka Isumi: You faced your feelings, your scars, head-on. Ever since that day, you’ve challenged yourself in so many ways and expanded the possibilities for us — for ŹOOĻ. You’re seriously so cool
Torao Mido: Well
Torao Mido: I really am cool.
Haruka Isumi: We’re cool, you mean!
Torao Mido: Yeah. We’re cool!
Shiro Utsugi: I am currently taking a screenshot of this conversation.
Haruka Isumi: Ah, I should too!
Torao Mido: Guess I’ll do it too, then.
Shiro Utsugi: No matter what the future holds, I'm sure ŹOOĻ will be just fine. And if you ever feel disheartened, please reread the Rabbit Chats from this project.
Shiro Utsugi: Though, of course, I’ll do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen...!
Haruka Isumi: Thanks. We're counting on you, Utsugi-san
Torao Mido: Please keep looking out for us
Shiro Utsugi: ŹOOĻ is the best!
Haruka Isumi:
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Torao Mido:
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Haruka Isumi: It’s kinda funny seeing Torao use King Pudding stickers lmao
Torao Mido: Come on. What’s wrong with using them once in a while?
Shiro Utsugi: This happens to me as well. Whenever I use stickers while chatting with the staff, they always ask, "Is something wrong?" with concern. I guess some things just suit certain people while others don’t
Haruka Isumi: Yeah, if Utsugi-san suddenly sent me a sticker while we were talking, I’d probably wonder what was up too
Torao Mido: But his emoji choices are already so weird; isn't it too late to be surprised?
Shiro Utsugi:
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Haruka Isumi: That’s kinda cute lmaoo
Shiro Utsugi: Let’s get back to the main topic. Next, I’d like to ask about the photoshoot and the costumes. The use of wires and CGI really made for such a dynamic shot!
Torao Mido: I wanted to express Haruka’s energy and strength. You can really feel that sense of him piercing through the sky, right?
Torao Mido: Even in a stifling world that's buried in asphalt and moving at a dizzying pace, with Haruka's voice, we can take off and soar anywhere.
Haruka Isumi: Hehe, Torao just keeps saying things that make me super happy
Torao Mido: Was it scary? I remember you weren’t too thrilled about bungee jumping before
Haruka Isumi: At first, I was a little nervous about whether I'd do a good job, but it turned out to be SO much fun!!! I was like, “Woah, so this is how Torao always films his stunts too? That’s awesome” 😂
Haruka Isumi: Oh, and when you called out to me, saying, “I know you can do it,” it made me really happy.
Torao Mido: I meant every word. I believe in you, Haruka
Haruka Isumi: Yeah! Thanks. By the way, how did you decide on the costume? I didn’t think both my knees would be exposed like that 😆
Torao Mido: Heroes usually show some leg, don’t they?
Haruka Isumi: The heck? LOL. Then you should've had both your knees out too!!
Torao Mido: Listen. Try imagining me with both my knees out first
Haruka Isumi: It looked-
Haruka Isumi: It looked great! The Torao in my head totally pulled it off!!! 😂 LMAOO
Torao Mido: You’re laughing though, lol
Haruka Isumi: Show it to me next time, okay? 😂😂
Shiro Utsugi: Please show it to me too! 🐾 Well then, sadly, we've reached the end of the interview. Before we wrap up, could I ask the two of you to share a final message with your fans?
Torao Mido: I’m sure you fans have noticed it as well. When you listen to Haruka's voice, it stirs up an impulse within you, a feeling that makes it impossible not to keep moving forward. Haruka's voice guides us.
Torao Mido: From there, I came to realize that even we could become someone's hero someday. The future you reach after all your struggles is bright, beautiful, and blue. I hope you guys listen to the song a lot too.
Haruka Isumi: The lyrics, “The words I caught amidst lights that emerge and fade, now dwell in my heart,” are my favorite.
Haruka Isumi: There was a time when I used to tell myself, "I'm never going to pay heed to anyone's voice", "I'm never going to let myself be swayed by someone else's words." But now I realize I was wrong.
Haruka Isumi: I’ve always been supported by our fans’ words. Whenever you said, “Thank you,” my body felt lighter. Whenever you said, “You can do it,” I honestly felt like, “Yeah, I can!”. That’s why these lyrics resonate with me so much.
Haruka Isumi: Your words always reach us directly. Thank you so much for everything! Torao called me a hero, but to me, my members and our fans are the real heroes! I’ll make sure to treasure “Aoku” together with Torao!!!
Shiro Utsugi: Thank you, Isumi-san and Mido-san. I’m very excited for ŹOOĻ’s future...!
Haruka Isumi: Me too!! Let's keep doing this together, Torao!
Torao Mido: Yeah, of course. I’m looking forward to my future with you guys.
Torao Mido: So, this marks the end of ŹOOĻ's part in this project, huh. Should we do something to celebrate?
Haruka Isumi: Good idea! Let’s have another party together! At your place, Torao!
Torao Mido: Sounds good. It’s winter, and for a big group, there’s really only one answer, right?
Haruka Isumi: Hot pot party!! 🤩
Shiro Utsugi: That sounds wonderful. If I’m not mistaken, I believe everyone’s schedules line up next week...!
Haruka Isumi: It won't be just us — Utsugi-san, you're joining too!
Shiro Utsugi: Eh, is that really okay...?! I’d be honored
Torao Mido: We’ll need a really big clay pot. Guess I'll go look for a good craftsman
Haruka Isumi: You're going to start by making the pot first? LOLOL
The End.
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[1] They're actually playing Shiritori here, the Japanese version of Word Chain, where players take turns saying words that begin with the last syllable of the previous word.
[2] The word "Crepe" (クレープ) in Japanese ends with "Pu" (プ), so Haruka is once again frustrated to be given another word that ends with "P."
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