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#miasma's work
miasmaghoul · 2 months
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sooo.. how do we feel about swiss fingering transdew in the passenger seat
"Why me?"
Swiss tilts his head, spinning a heavy set of keys around one finger.
"Why not?"
Dew raises an eyebrow, gestures at the guitar in his lap, the papers spread out on his bed.
"Oh please," Swiss scoffs, pushing himself away from Dew's doorframe and striding into his sunlit room. It's a gorgeous day, early spring, the sweet scent of the rose gardens wafting in on the breeze. "You're tellin' me you'd rather practice than go for a joyride?"
Dew snorts, crossing his ankles and adjusting his beat up old acoustic. It's true that he's been at it for a while now, since just after breakfast, but this solo has been giving him shit and he's determined to nail it before their next group session.
"I don't think taking Sunny and Lus to the grocery store counts as a joyride."
Dew strums out a few chords while Swiss flops into his desk chair, leaning it back onto two legs. It creaks under his weight.
"Maybe not," Swiss concedes, unbothered, "but you could still come keep me company."
"What, the girls not enough for you?"
"They would be," Swiss replies with a shrug. "If they didn't spend every trip making out in the back seat."
Dew snorts at that - Swiss has a point, Sunshine and Cumulus are not ones to keep their hands off each other in any context. Still, he grumbles.
"C'mon, Sparky," Swiss goads, scooting his chair closer so he can rest his elbows on the mattress, propping his chin in one hand and prodding at Dew's knee with the other. "Don't make me beg."
"But I like it when you beg."
Dew throws Swiss a wink, and Swiss reciprocates with his best puppy dog eyes. Big and wet and completely irresistible. Dew sighs, throws up his hands in mock defeat.
"Fine, fine," he grumps, setting his guitar on the bed. "But I'd better get something outta this."
Swiss grins, delighted. Pats Dew on the thigh as he stands, shoving the chair back under the desk.
"I'll tell Lus to buy that spicy jerky you like," he offers, and Dew gives him a little ooh.
"The cheese too," he insists, shuffling to the edge of the mattress and reaching for his boots. "The one with the habaneros."
"Yeah, yeah," Swiss chuckles, heading for the door, "but warn me before you eat it, I'm not sleeping with you on cheese night again. I learned my lesson."
Dew hurls a pillow at him, and Swiss scampers into the hall with a boisterous laugh. The little ghoul works on lacing up his boots, and makes a mental note to never tell Swiss when it's cheese night.
Twenty minutes later they're on the road, and as the breeze blows through his hair Dew wonders why he was so reluctant in the first place.
It's a gorgeous day, sunny and hot, but not enough to need the a/c. They're flying down the highway in Copia's ancient whale of a car, the windows down and a Judas Priest cassette blaring through the speakers; Swiss belts out the chorus to Breaking the Law while Dew taps out a matching rhythm on the outside of his door. In the back, Cumulus provides backing vocals while Sunshine dances in her seat, and Dew can't help the massive grin that splits his face.
It's a 45 minute drive to the nearest grocery store - the one downside to the abbey being so remote - but the trip passes quicker than he expects. They're trundling into the parking lot before Dew knows it, Swiss killing the engine and groaning through a solid stretch. Dew flips down the visor, looks in the tiny mirror and makes a displeased sound at the state of his hair.
"Okay," Cumulus pipes up from the back seat. Dew peers at her in the mirror, not missing the fresh hickey just below her ear. "I have the list, I have our allowance, I have..." she pats at her chest, searching the pockets of her denim vest, "ah, and I have my phone!"
"You got my snacks on that list?" Dew inquires, working at his knotted ends. Cumulus makes an affirmative sound.
"Sure do," she lilts, leaning forward to dangle the paper in his face. "Jerky and cheese, as requested."
"Get some of that chocolate I like too," he mumbles, "the dark stuff, with the salt." He turns his head to give her outstretched hand a quick peck. "Please."
"You got it, sugar," she giggles, tucking the list away. "You two coming with us?"
"No boys allowed," Sunshine and Swiss say in unison, and the lot of them chuckle. It's a known fact that Dew isn't a fan of crowds and that Swiss can't be trusted around free samples, so in the car they will stay.
"Besides," Swiss adds, leaning across the bench seat to throw an arm around Dew's narrow shoulders, "I got good company right here."
He nips at Dew's ear and the little ghoul elbows him in the side, hard enough to make Swiss yelp. It turns into a quick little slap fight, a moment of playful stupidity that Dew will never admit to enjoying as much as he does.
"Play nice, kids," Sunshine chides when they break apart, resting her chin on the back of their seat with a toothy grin. "Or mommy won't bring back any treats!"
"Gross," Dew complains, but settles anyway. Goes back to working the kinks from his golden locks. Sunshine leans over the seat to plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek and Dew squawks in protest.
"Aww, but you I thought you loved calling me that!"
Dew shoves her away, suffers through a chorus of snickers while his cheeks go pink, and resolutely avoids looking over as Swiss. The girls get their things together and then they're clambering out of the car; Sunshine glues herself to Cumulus, laces their hands together, and together they stride across the parking lot to the hulking monolith that is the grocery store.
"Mommy, huh?" Swiss pipes up moments later, and Dew groans.
"Shut up," he grouses, giving up on his messy hair and slouching down in his seat. "It's her thing, not mine," Dew lies. "Besides, I've called you worse."
"Can't argue that," Swiss lilts, stretching his arm along the back of the bench seat. "Remember that time you called me Mr. Army?"
Oh, does he, and Dew really doesn't want to think about that right now. Thick fingers tease their way into his tangled hair, blunt nails scratching against his scalp.
"You were the one that put me in a schoolgirl outfit," Dew huffs, crossing his legs for reasons totally unrelated to that particular memory. "I can't be held accountable for anything I said."
"I just never thought I'd get anyone but Rain to call me that," Swiss murmurs, a lascivious grin sliding onto his face. Dew looks at him from the corner of his eye, unwilling to lose the pleasant pressure of Swiss' hand in his hair.
"Rain? Really?"
"Oh yeah," Swiss says, converational. His hand moves to cup the back of Dew's neck, and oh is that lovely. "Wanted me to spank his ass raw and tell him what a naughty boy he was while he said it. Poor guy went off against my thigh before I could even get him on my cock," he sighs, wistful. Swiss turns his head, fixes Dew with that vulpine smile. "You were a nice surprise."
The little ghoul rolls his eyes, and really hopes Swiss doesn't notice him squeezing his thighs together. He has nothing further to say on the matter - or, at least, nothing that won't get him into trouble - so he stays silent. Enjoys the way Swiss' thumb rubs the spot just behind his ear while he watches humans mill about the lot. Families and individuals both, with arms full of paper bags holding untold goodies.
For what it's worth, Swiss doesn't keep talking either. He's not quiet, still humming out a tune Dew recognizes but can't quite place, but it's comfortable. The sun's hanging high in the early afternoon sky, a gentle breeze flowing though the still open windows, and Dew would be lying if he said this wasn't a nice way to kill time.
"What's on your mind?" Swiss asks a handful of minutes later, giving his neck a squeeze. "You're never quiet for this long."
"Oh you're one to talk," Dew chuffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can't remember the last time you shut up for more than five minutes."
"Pfft, sure you can," Swiss insists, that large hand dipping into the collar of Dew’s t-shirt, callused fingertips drifting over his skin and dragging a soft sigh from his lips. "I'm pretty sure I don't talk that much when you're sitting on my face, spitfire."
Dew scoffs despite the tingle the words force through him, a warm feeling settling into his belly. He turns his head to give Swiss a look, an incredulous eyebrow raised.
"That's the only example you can think of?"
"No," Swiss shrugs, "it's just the one I'm thinkin' of right now." The other ghoul licks his lips in a very intentional way, and that tingle hits again. "I guess deepthroating Mount counts too, but -"
"So the only thing that keeps you from yapping is having someone's junk in your mouth," Dew interrupts, nodding sagely, "noted."
Swiss laughs, loud enough to get the attention of a few people loading their car nearby. Dew shrinks in his seat.
"Like you're complaining."
He shifts in the seat, scooching closer. Dew squints at him, suspicious, but doesn't protest. Not even when Swiss gets close enough for their thighs to touch, for the other ghoul to drape an arm around his neck and let that huge hand rest on his chest. For Dew to soak in his spicy cologne and for Swiss to rest his chin on a bony shoulder.
"Besides," he rumbles, nosing at Dew's temple, "we both know you love my yapping."
"Love is a strong word," Dew mumbles, tilting his head when Swiss nuzzles his neck nonetheless.
"Mm, I don't think so," Swiss hums against his jaw, stubble scratching at his skin in a way that makes Dew's eyelids flutter. "Don't think I missed that little leg squeeze when I was talkin' about Rain, baby."
Dew groans, gives him a little shove. Far from enough to dislodge the other ghoul, more of a nudge than anything else. Token protest. Swiss huffs out a soft laugh, kisses his cheek.
"That's what I thought," he coos, licking at the shell of Dew's ear to draw out a shiver. The hand on his chest finds a nipple through his shirt, and Dew has to bite his lip to keep from making a sound. Curse Swiss for knowing every one of his weak spots. "Can't hide from me, Sparky."
Dew hates that he's right, and hates even more that - even in a place like this - Swiss can get him riled up with so little effort. Dew bounces his leg, takes his lower lip between his teeth while he scans the parking lot. There are people everywhere, but none close enough to see them - a fact Dew is very thankful for when Swiss sucks his earlobe and gives one of his nipple piercings a tug. Any closer and they might hear his moan.
"Fuck," Dew grunts, squirming in his seat, "ugh, you bitch."
"Such language," Swiss taunts, tracing the tip of his tongue along Dew's pulse point. "Lucifer, you're so easy."
Dew growls as best he can, human glamour be damned, and it just makes Swiss laugh again. It's a shame he can't argue - Swiss and Aether are the only ones who have such an effect on him, and they both know it perfectly well.
"Aww, gettin' all hot and bothered already?" Dew tries to shake his head, but Swiss kisses his throat and it doesn't get him very far. "Don't lie, firecracker. I can smell it on you."
Of course he can. He always can. Dew sighs as his eyes slip shut, sagging into the seat as Swiss slowly but surely teases the spots that make him start to sweat. Swiss' other hand lands on his thigh, stroking tight denim until Dew’s legs uncross. He walks two fingers up the inseam of the little ghoul's jeans while he trails wet kisses along his jaw, and Dew really can't help the soft sounds it all wrings from him.
Then that wandering hand sneaks under his shirt, lifts it up to expose his belly, and Dew jolts.
"H-hey, wait," he breathes, fists balled at his sides. His eyes crack open despite the way Swiss continues to work his chest, his throat, his ear. He watches Swiss' talented fingers trace his happy trail, dip into his navel and disappear up his shirt, and when Swiss rubs at his bare nipple Dew has to clap a hand over his mouth to hide his moan. "Shit, Swiss -"
It's muffled by his palm, and Dew's eyes dart around the parking lot as Swiss pulls away. Fixes him with hooded eyes and a crooked smile.
"Hm?" Swiss tugs both piercings at once and Dew shudders. "Something wrong?"
"You - oh - fuck, Swiss some...someone's gonna hear, someone's gonna - nngh - gonna see -"
"So?" The hand under his shirt runs ticklish trails down his belly, makes the muscles there jump. Swiss nibbles at his collarbone and Dew makes an embarrassing gurgling noise. "You like being watched and we both know it."
That may be true, but Dew thinks there's a difference between Mountain spying on him through a crack in the door and being fondled in a public parking lot with the windows down.
Swiss' hand finds his belt then, and Dew throbs.
"Fucker," he bites out as Swiss unbuckles him, other hand still expertly working his chest, and Dew flushes at the dark chuckle Swiss lets out.
"Maybe later," he croons, kissing the hinge of his jaw. "I got other plans for you right now."
Swiss wastes no time it getting his belt out of the way, quick to pop the button and tug down his zipper. Dew's narrow chest is heaving by the time Swiss hooks two fingers into the band of his boxer briefs. The other ghoul gives him a cruel smirk, snaps the band against his skin, and Dew sucks air through his teeth.
"Better keep it down, baby," Swiss speaks against his ear, liquid silk. "If you can, that is."
That hand worms its way into his underwear, slips down between his thighs, and Dew clenches his teeth so hard his jaw cracks.
"Mm, what's this?" Swiss glides the tip of one finger through his folds and Dew's thighs tense. "So slippery already. Just from this?"
Swiss tweaks his nipple, licks a nasty stripe below his ear, and Dew really has to work not to choke on his own tongue. His fat little dick throbs against Swiss' palm, and Swiss sounds absolutely thrilled about it.
"Oh, someone's excited," he teases, one thick finger prodding at his hole. "It's already tryin' to suck me in," Swiss sing-songs, and the little ghoul's shoulders sag.
Dew whimpers when he pushes the tip inside, clenching around an intrusion that feels far too good for how slight it is. He can't stop looking at everyone wandering the parking lot, trying to stay on high alert for the slightest hint of undue attention but struggling more and more with every passing second. Swiss wriggles that probing digit further inside, up to the second knuckle, and then there's sudden pressure on it front wall that has Dew's back arching off the seat.
"Fuck, fuck," he wheezes, hands flying to whatever he can reach - one paws at Swiss' shirt, the other gripping his forearm. Feeling the muscles shift as Swiss' finger works him open, groaning at the gentle stretch. "Oh you bastard."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart," Swiss breathes, palming his stiff clit, and Dew's breath catches in his throat.
"Can't believe you're - oh shit, oh - fuck, can't believe I'm letting you - ah!"
Dew bites his lips shut as Swiss curls his finger just right, muting his cry and fighting to keep his eyes from rolling back. Clamps his thighs around that massive hand until Swiss chuckles in his ear, swirling that digit and making the little ghoul's eyes cross instead.
"You're so pretty like this," he rumbles, a second finger tracing around the first, spreading slick. "All shy. Makes you even tighter," Swiss tells him, and Dew clamps down even harder. Why is it so good? "Wish I could get you in my lap right now," his breath is so, so hot in Dew's ear. "Get you to sit on my cock and see how quiet you are then."
Dew shivers head to toe, legs spreading at the thought alone, and Swiss leaps at the opportunity. Pulls his first finger out only to slide back in with two, and there's no possible way he could stay silent through that. He turns his head just in time to sink his teeth into Swiss' shoulder, howling his pleasure into cotton and flesh, and Swiss groans right along with him.
"That's more like it," he praises, kissing the top of Dew’s head while he pants and shivers. "Gonna be a quick one, isn't it?"
Dew nods as best he can, moaning into Swiss' shirt when he rubs the heel of his hand in slow circles over his pulsing clit. Doesn't pull back until he's sure he can control himself, gasping when Swiss crooks his fingers but biting back the whine bubbling up in his throat.
"Y-yeah," he admits, thready. He can't be bothered to look out the window anymore, staring only at the bulge Swiss' hand makes in his jeans. "Fuck, just do it, fuckin' make me."
"Well, since you asked so nicely," Swiss lilts, one last taunt, and then the only sound filling the space around them is the wet squelch of skilled fingers plunging in and out of his tight little body.
It's perfect - the curve of Swiss' digits, the pressure against his sensitive little dick, the way Swiss rubs at that one spot inside that has Dew going boneless against Swiss' side. Huffing hot into his shirt, hair falling into his face and wafting in the breeze still flowing through the open windows. He can't stop grabbing at Swiss - his shirt, his arm, whatever he can reach. Skinny hips rolling against his palm in search of more, more, driving Swiss' fingers as deep as they'll go.
"C-close," he spits far too soon, every inch of him on fire and wound tight as a spring. Swiss gives his closes approximation of his usual purr, and Dew's thighs quiver. "Like...like that, just like that, shit -"
"Yeah?"
The hand still torturing his nipples stills, presses flat to Dew's chest. His fingers feel so perfect Dew can't handle it, on edge and covered in goosebumps.
"Give me a squeeze, baby," Swiss instructs, and Dew does. Clenches hard around those two wonderful digits and Swiss seems to predict the sound it'll drag from him, because the hand on his chest flies to cover Dew's mouth and catch his wail. "Fuck, that's my good boy," Swiss huffs, breathless in a way Dew adores even through his haze of pleasure. The other ghoul holds him close, keeps his mouth covered, and Dew scrabbles at the arm working him. "Now let me feel it cum for me."
Dew loses all sense of rhythm as Swiss curls his fingers one last time, hitting something that puts stars in his eyes and wrenches harsh moans from his throat, and with one perfect roll of Swiss' palm against his clit Dew's gone.
He's drooling against Swiss' palm when he comes down from the highest high, sweaty at his hairline and his cunt still snapping around Swiss' fingers. Holding him inside with the little ghoul rides out the aftershocks, breathing hard through his nose and blinking with one eye at a time. Swiss is muttering all sorts of nonsense into his hair, a litany of praise and wonderment that Dew cannot for the life of him understand but appreciates anyway.
Soon enough sensitivity sets in, and Dew hisses against Swiss' damp palm. Reaches up to peel his hand away with shaky fingers, squirming until Swiss gets the message and pulls out with care. There's a gush of warmth that follows, soaks into his briefs, and Dew heaves a sigh.
"Unholy shit," he slurs, collapsing back into his seat like a mound of jelly. "What the fuck, Swiss."
The other ghoul chuckles, and Dew rolls his neck just in time to watch Swiss pop his messy fingers into his mouth. Listens to Swiss suck them clean and groan at the taste of him.
"What?" He licks slick from his palm, exaggerated passes of his tongue that Dew finds himself fascinated by. "You said you wanted to get something outta this, right?" Dew blinks at him, brows scrunched together as he tried to make his brain work. "Just granting your wish, Sparky."
Swiss gives him a wink, and then he's leaning in for a quick kiss. Just a peck, really, before he's fastening Dew's jeans and putting his belt back into place. Smoothing his hair as best he can before he scoots back behind the wheel, lacing his fingers behind his head. Dew's fully back by the time he's done, very aware of their surroundings once more and ever so glad to see their activities seem to have gone unnoticed.
"Just in time, too," Swiss comments, nodding towards the store. Dew squits against the sun and sees the girls just leaving the building, Sunshine's arms full and Cumulus carrying what looks to be a single bag of chips. They're bumping into each other and giggling, Dew can tell even from across the lot, and his own smile curls into place.
"Damn," he laments, sitting up straighter. "Guess you'll have to wait 'til we get back for your turn, huh?"
He turns to give Swiss a playful wink, and finds Swiss looking...he isn't sure. Smug? Maybe? Hard to say.
"What's your problem?"
"Nothin'," he shrugs, eyes wrinkled at the corners. "Just find it funny that after so long you still don't know what you do to me."
Dew blinks as Swiss reaches over to grab his wrist, guiding to his crotch and -
"Oh no fuckin' way."
"Tell anyone and I won't eat you out for a month," Swiss threatens, but Dew's too busy enjoying the sizeable wet spot beneath his hand to care.
"We're ba-ack!" Cumulus calls once they're in earshot, and Dew gives Swiss a squeeze before he pulls back. Licks at his palm while Sunshine loads up the trunk, just to make the other ghoul suffer a little bit more. The back doors swing open and the girls slide inside. "You boys have fun without us?"
"Oh, Lus," Dew tells her, rifling through the cassettes in the glove box with the tang of Swiss still coating his tongue. "You have no idea."
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ganondoodle · 8 months
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(im maybe thinking a little too much about that totk rewritten project ..)
had a cool idea and wanna know what people would prefer; after you beat ganondorf once, marking the half way point of the game, would you rather:
get a long cutscene in which you see some of his memories, that shows why he ended up there and why he is the way he is, with you occasionally being able to walk around in them
get a few sudden flashes of memories, nothing detailed or clear but have 'miasma hearts' spawn across the surface and underground map, a tree like growth of miasma that holds an important memory from the past; they unlock in order of them happening as there are several stages of growth to them, you can find all before seeing the first one but you cant access the memory until the 'tree' has matured, they will grow more the closer you are to unlocking them; they slowly lead you back towards ganondorf and you need all of them to unlock the endboss
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akgadget · 7 months
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Refs for my Witchelny digi OCs. Forge and Wes are twins; Solomon is their adopted little sibling. I've had these silly guys for over ten years-
Transcript under cut (but with extra details bc I either forgot to write it, or I couldn't write it all out.)
Forge:
Dual Matchstick Wands. Arrows point from the blue wand to his right belt holster, and red to his left holster.
Compression sleeve(neck and right arm) + Elbow(left arm)
Left side of mouth: Two stitches
Right side of mouth: Five stitches.
When in battle mode, the coat-tails and shoulders become animated flames.
They generate heat, but don't burn to the touch (unless he wills it to. He wouldn't tho.)
Wesley:
oh shit i forgot to write notes on the img itself uuuhh
Hair is braided.
Cracks on the hat's skull mirror the scars on his own face.
Also the eyes of the skull are synced with Wes' eyes.
Pendant on his cloak is a round doll head?. Looks similar to the Digimon V-Pet logo, but with three stitches on the mouth instead of three teeth.
Right leg zipper is a grinning expression.
Left leg zipper is opened, and a void maw.
Solomon:
Scar on right cheek.
Doesn't have a hat. Wears a hood sewn into his cloak instead.
Hair is short + messy.
They don't have a staff anymore, either.
Right leg zipper is a sad expression.
Bakumon form's furr is the same colour as his hair as Sorcerimon.
They devolve to their Rookie stage when exhausted, sick, or hungry.
(they also have the same Digimoji on their cape as Wesley, i just forgor to copy it over.)
I'm still ???? about some colours so these might bee updated someday
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july-19th-club · 3 months
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so my brother has what's either a hideous flu or a hideous covid (probably the second option, because it's surging) and instead of staying home he came to christmas if we're not all miserably ill by this time next week it'll be a miracle
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honesttoglob · 2 months
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Another unpopular opinion: Neither Steve nor Cesare bathe on even a semi-regular basis. I'm talking like,,,, several weeks going by at a time. With Steve it's fine because if he doesn't bathe for long enough he just smells more and more like popcorn or smthn, while Cesare smells equally of roadkill whether he bathes or not.
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craycraybluejay · 3 months
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writing is torture but unfortunately i am a writer and will legitimately die if i do not do it
#writerblr#writer memes#reading your own work trying to decide if anything is publishable is like taking repetitive psychic damage#however.#there are people who use a.i. to 'write' (disgusting)#and talentless editorless people who have migraine-worthy books on the shelves#so while self criticism is a feature of artistry that does not miss me#i feel slightly less worried knowing for a fact that i am both a human person who wrote something and that i carefully edit most of my work#and make sure not to make amateurish mistakes like Buttery Butter (smiled happily)#or like using the same uncommon word too often within a small space#unless its intentional for prose or rhyme purposes#you can reuse common words like said or the or and mostly as you like but usually dont use words like miasma a bunch of times in the same#same paragraph#flow. pacing. word choice. grammar. writing past a certain level is both creative and formulaic#past that certain level it takes no longer only talent or skill but a trained eye and a willingness to edit#it takes a lot of reminders and witty catchphrases for common mistakes and reading and rereading your own work#and most artists start disliking their work at a certain stage of this but#you have to push on#this is your calling. you must learn to banish self doubt and put in the hard work and time it takes to make something truly amazing#learning discipline is hard for me-- i ride on talent and inspiration a lot#but discipline is necessary because a lot of the writing process is tedious backreading editing research etc#obviously you dont have to do most of your editing on the first draft like i do#but you do have to get it done eventually if you want to truly get on the next level past just hobby writing#not that theres anything wrong with doing it just for fun and casually
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medinaquirin · 4 months
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Ngl, this whole self care shtick is real hard to do with low self-esteem. It's like why do I have to take care of that asshole? Ugh.
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phoenixcatch7 · 10 months
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Man I am just SO CONFUSED. About the time line of this game.
No one is telling me how long links been gone! Or how long the botw-totk timeskip was! They all just started selling my stuff again lol. I'm going to have to get everything redyed!
Me: hey random stranger! Lore dump? You look like a lore dumper.
Kindly npc: why hullo there, link ^^! My, I haven't seen you in a while since the calamity ended! I was so worried when they said you and the princess had gone missing! But it's good to see you're well.
Me: aw, thanks. How long has it actually been tho.
Kindly npc: ^u^
#Having a great time btw I've just been chased across a near sea of miasma by stal riders and more! 10/10 nearly died in a high speed chase#Made it out relatively unscathed which is truly amazing lmao#Spoilers ahead: I have had the funniest time doing the great plateau quest chain. Once I sucked it up and made nice with the creepy statue.#He's(?) been alright. Fair trader. Good deals. I've mostly been terrorising kohga in between absolutely failing to craft working vehicles X#His new boss fights are so much easier than the first one lol. Less fun I'll admit but the music is groovy. You can probably make a#Machine and try and dog fight him but with few exceptions the turning circles are decrepit so I just stuck to mild dodging and shooting him#And running over to hit him some more. Kinda bland for a boss fight I'll say. Could have done with a lot more pizazz. It's kohga come on.#Anyway I do feel kinda bad because apparently he's been stuck down there for however many months/years and I AM kinda cheating with the arm#After the first fight he fled to the gerudo mine and the steward very nicely showed me how to get there but never underestimate#My procrastination because I'd already found it by just exploring so I just teleported. In game it must have been terrifying lmao#Racing across an endless void filled only by the light of your rapidly running out of battery glider and the red glow of the gloom away fro#The apparently immortal ancient warrior who beat you up and tossed you down there and there's no sign of perusal so you're probably safe#But you get there and he's already sitting there poking some bananas having wiped out your goons and plundered your supplies.#Like sorry man but the arm comes with the hero territory I can't exactly take it off.#Maybe if you stopped terrorising the people purah would let you have one of her long distance teleportation slates. It comes with photos?#It can't have been long since botw link hasn't grown an inch XD. Also I've been turning the lore timeline over in my head and still no idea#Are we not sure Rauru isn't from some alternate timeline that got fused with the main loz timeline by accident??#loz#legend of zelda#totk#loz totk#tears of the kingdom#loz tears of the kingdom#totk spoilers
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morpheus-thrall · 1 year
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the gift that keeps on giving 😌👻
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talentforlying · 21 days
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my apartment smells insanely of cloves rn and it's making me think of the way constantine's lock-up (aka occult shit central) and, by extension, whatever flat he's living in at the moment, probably smells at all times like somebody's been going absolutely apeshit in the kitchen: herbs and spices everywhere you turn. cloves and turmeric and incense, sometimes coffee and charred meat and woodsmoke, it all clings to him beneath the cigarette film like a second skin. (there's also the demon blood making his sweat smell like ozone and burnt hair and timiz, but that's a whole other deal.)
the lock-up also smells dusty as hell and paper-moldy and formaledhyde-y and Weird, and so does he when he spends a decent amount of time in it, but the herbs and spices. think of the herbs and spices.
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miasmaghoul · 6 months
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i know we've seen minute man dew on here before. how does he react to swiss being as rough as he was tonight
Dew knows something's coming.
Swiss has only been getting worse as the tour goes on, and he's learned to anticipate the other ghoul's ferality. It took Swiss sneaking onto his platform and sinking his teeth into his shoulder to really drive that point home, but Dew knows what to expect now. Knows that he needs to be hypervigilant when the stage lights go blue, when first notes of Watcher in the Sky ring out and the crowd starts to shriek.
He knows something's coming, and Dew tries his best not to tense up when Swiss' heavy bootfalls shake his platform. His fingers don't so much as falter on his strings when that broad body molds itself to his back, the wail of his guitar not quite enough to drown out the way Swiss pants wildly in his ear.
He knows something's coming, but he's still somehow unprepared for the large hand that sneaks behind his guitar. His foot goes heavy on his pedal as Swiss gropes at him, a harsh inhale sucking the already damp fabric of his balaclava into his mouth.
Swiss' other hand digs into his hip and Dew spits a curse that no one but he can hear. Swiss snarls in his ear, a possessive, predatory sound that does absolutely nothing to help the immediate tingle that's settling between his legs. Dew burns with it, thrown into immediate flashbacks of that moment on the last leg of the tour. Of Swiss sneaking up behind him and grabbing at his crotch in front of thousands, rubbing a nipple through his uniform and snickering in his ear.
This is so, so much worse.
Dew bites the inside of his cheek, palms sweatier than usual, cheeks so hot behind his mask. He can just barely see Swiss' hand curl into a tight fist behind his guitar, knuckles pressed to Dew's zipper. Swiss mimes a stroking motion that only Dew can see, and he's helpless to do anything but lean back against the solid chest behind him.
What a mistake that is.
He hears the crowd scream in a very distant way, playing purely off of muscle memory while he stares down at Swiss' hand. He knows he's swelling up already, always embarrassingly quick to react to even the slightest stimulation. Swiss fist drags over his pants just enough to feel, and every pass sends a shock through him that pools deep in his gut.
Swiss grinds against him, a firm roll of his hips, and Dew knows he can't watch anymore. Not if he wants to keep his pants unmessed.
Swiss' teeth dig into his shoulder and Dew does the only thing he can think of - grabs his whammy bar and pulls. Lifts his guitar by it, a violent tug that he does every night but has wildly different connotations tonight. Swiss, of course, responds in kind. Screeches in his ear and ruts against his ass. Dew can't help the way his head jerks when he feels Swiss's hand speed up, a familiar motion that goes straight to Dew's rapidly stiffening cock.
It pulses, sits hot against his thigh, and Dew's shoulders roll forward as he drops his guitar back down. For a split second he thinks Swiss isn't going to stop. The thought hits like a punch to the gut, images slamming through his mind of Swiss working him over right here on stage. Fondling him through his pants until he's soaking a wet spot into them for everyone to see. They're all screaming already, and the sudden knot of worry in his gut grows at the thought of how much louder the crowd would get if Swiss chose not to show mercy.
Another, sharper bite to his shoulder has him hissing, and with a firm slap to his ass Swiss is gone. Sauntering back to his own platform with his usual swagger while Dew's head spins. While his cock throbs against his zipper. The whole event only lasted a handful of seconds, something that certainly shouldn't have him so worked up that he leaks into his tight briefs.
And yet.
Worse still, he stays that way for the rest of the show. Has to sneak adjustments between songs, has to hold his guitar close to his body and give it a little hump every now and then. Just enough to take the edge off. He spends entirely too much time on Swiss' side of the stage, earns questioning looks from Rain and Aeon, but Dew couldn't care less. Not when all he can think about is Swiss getting hands on him for real.
The remaining songs pass in a blur, and Dew cannot take his eyes off of Swiss as they trundle backstage before the encore. His fingers won't stop twitching, every inch of him drenched in sweat and his slight chest heaving. Swiss smiles at him with every tooth in his head, gives him a little finger wave, and Dew can't help himself.
He grips the other ghoul by the ascot and yanks like Swiss is a disobedient dog, drags him bodily behind a pair of equipment cases. Swiss is still grinning when Dew shoves him against them, a sweaty hand wrapped around Swiss' throat.
"You motherfucker," he spits, raspy and tight but muffled by his balaclava. "Why the fuck -"
"Bet I can finish you off before we go back on," Swiss interrupts with a wink, reaching out to rub him through his pants. Dew's eyes go wide at the suggestion, and his stomach does a somersault. "C'mon, lemme make a mess outta you."
Swiss squeezes, and Dew's eyes roll back in his head. It's an insane thought. He knows it is. They have less than two minutes before they have to go back on. It's a ridiculous suggestion. Something he shouldn't even consider.
"Do it," he bites out, rocking against Swiss' palm. "Fuckin' make me."
Swiss snickers, tongue flicking over his teeth, but he listens. Wastes no time in tugging Dew's zipper down and pulling him out, in wrapping talented fingers around his slippery length and thumbing over the tip without hesitation. Dew grunts with it, lets his head thump onto Swiss's shoulder while the other ghoul twists his wrist.
"Oh shit," he huffs, little hips twitching in seconds. "Shit, fuck, don't stop, keep - yeah, like that, like that, oh -"
"Better make it quick," Swiss murmurs, entirely too amused. "Sounds like Papa's almost done."
The reminder really isnt necessary. They both know he's not going to last - he's hot all over already, pulsing and leaking over Swiss' thick fingers. Too worked up too care and too sensitive to fight it.
Swiss rubs at his frenulum, his other hand coming up to rub a nipple through his vest, and Dew chokes as memories of the last time Swiss touched him like that slam through his mind. Memories of countless eyes boring into him, of the shriek of a thousand humans bearing witness to him being groped. He pants into Swiss' throat, loud and labored, and Swiss laughs.
"You're thinkin' about them watching, aren't you?"
Dew gurgles as his hips stutter, the hand on Swiss's throat moving to his chest. An effort to keep himself upright while Swiss invades his mind.
"Wishin' we were still out there, wishin' I could milk it outta you under those bright lights?"
Dew shakes his head, tries to spit words of denial, but all that comes out is a harsh whine. Swiss chuckles again, and his grip changes. Closes around his slick tip and works him hard and fast, just the way he'd mimed on stage earlier. Dew grunts, drools into his balaclava as his knees start to shake. The hand on his chest gives him a nice gripe, and Dew feels his balls draw up.
"Make sure alllll those people saw you cream yourself?"
Swiss gives him one last pull, and Dew groans long and low as he does just that. Pulsing in the tight circle of Swiss' fist, knees wobbling as his cock spills his load over those talented fingers. It dribbles down between them, landing in what little space there is between their boots. Swiss coos in his ear while Dew catches his breath, and as a fresh wave of sweat soaks into his compression shirt Dew shivers.
It's all over just as quickly as it started, their Papa's voice fading back into his consciousness as his orgasmic haze dissipates. He's still teasing the crowd about them being done, about to announce the last three songs, and Dew feels himself flush darker than ever. How long had he lasted? Maybe a minute? He doesn't want to think about it. Instead he steps back, shaking out his arms and tucking himself away while he watches Swiss hold up his messy hand.
"Told ya so," he taunts, wiggling his fingers, and Dew rolls his eyes.
"Shut up," he gripes, zipping up and straightening his vest. The crowd's cheers pick up and Dew bounces on the balls of his feet. "You can be a jackass later, we're up again."
"Hang on," Swiss lilts, pushing himself off the cases and closes the short distance between them. "I still gotta clean up."
Dew raises an eyebrow behind his mask, and before he can do anything else Swiss is pulling down his balaclava.
"Swiss, what -"
Swiss leans in and pecks him on the mouth, and then the other ghoul is stretching it just enough to wipe his sticky fingers off on the inside of it. Right over the drool-soaked portion that they both know will sit right over Dew's mouth. He offers a positively vulpine smile as he tugs the thing back up, and Dew sputters.
"Now we can go," Swiss tells him, grabbing Dew by the elbow and bullying him back towards the others before he can argue. He opens his mouth to try, and all it does is make him taste himself. Fills his nose and mouth with salt and sex, and every bit of it goes right to his spent cock.
"You motherfucker," Dew says again, and Swiss gives his ass another smack.
"Don't be too greedy, firecracker," he murmurs as they move to join the others, "I wanna taste that on you tonight."
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soldier-poet-king · 6 months
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Actually the whole work thing would be infinitely less stressful if I actually knew how to navigate the white collar world and was not from a working class background and I have no idea how anything works because we were poor! No one in my family has done shit like this!
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Steve: Eddie's problem is that he's treated as an outsider, like me!
Robin: You are not an outsider. You wear cute little blue shorts.
Steve: I... am complicated.
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simonstamenovic · 2 months
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We should, barring more complications, be getting Our pay set up soon. You should message Us any donation posts.
I am not able to promise more than five to ten dollars, depending on how many people We send to, however We will do what We can.
You may send posts on behalf of others as well. I should mention that you are in no way taking away from Our livelihood by doing this, if that makes it any easier for people. We would spend the money on video games and substance abuse.
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elephantbitterhead · 4 months
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Do you need to give a holiday gift to someone you hate? If so, may I suggest this demoralizing & annoying puzzle?
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melviships · 6 months
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(speedwalks to my desk) so playing off of previous depictions of hosts and how Y/omiel and B/eauty can look at the player as 'Sissel' AND the use of forced perspective, Miasma's first appearance is in the ghost world and he would watch this soul grow and take shape of a person before stepping into the silhouette of Y/omiel and melding with it
After reacting to this sight, you then interact with them in his body which has an altered portrait where his hair has flopped to one side, mimicking their faux hair in ghost form
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