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keikikait · 4 months

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ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀꜱ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s)

word count: 2.6k

summary: you always wanted to be a teacher, even after discovering the jujutsu world. after graduating from kyoto jujutsu high, you decided to make your dreams a reality and teach at the sister school, tokyo jujutsu high. the only downside (and secret upside), is your teaching mentor, satoru gojo. what started as a few flirtatious glances turned into a full-blown relationship situationship. you were his, and he was yours, until he goes on a date.

warnings: (FOR THIS PART) angst?, plot with basically no porn (i’m sorry), gojo is kind of an asshole & a tease, implied dom!gojo and sub!reader, nickname use [baby, pretty girl], no use of y/n

a note: been sitting on this bad boy for a while and decided to finish it. more parts to come (eventually). also, the comment about flirty baristas is just for fluff, baristas don’t flirt with customers (source: i am one). also also, they say tokyo jujutsu high is on the outskirts of tokyo, but i wanted everything to be inside of tokyo so i just kinda guessed, whoops.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You were just his teaching assistant. Nothing more.

At least, that’s what everyone else thinks.

Secretly, you were his. After long hours, he would find solace in your arms as you lay in bed together.

You weren’t dating by any means, although you wanted to. You understood why, it wouldn’t be a good look for you or Gojo if the higher-ups found out about you, but you both had an understanding. You were exclusive, just not publicly. You followed his rules, turning down dates and avoiding the flirtatious gazes of baristas or waiters.

You thought he would follow his own rules, too.

It was supposed to be a fun trip; a peaceful eight days of relaxing in Nikko before returning to school after the winter break ended. In reality, it was a week and some change stuck in a log cabin hunched over a desk grading papers, freezing from the cold. The gender-segregated cabins didn’t help. It was too cold to venture into Nikko during the day, a thick layer of snow covering the ground at all times no matter how much was shoveled. It was also, as Gojo had pointed out the day before making the trip, suspicious for the two of you to venture into the city alone. It was twice as hard to be away from him at night, you had gotten so accustomed to sleeping in his arms and hearing his soft snores in your ear. You were lonely.

You could see him, though. The men’s cabin was bigger and had a massive irori in the middle that heated the entire place. You sat with him as you graded and planned lessons, and his teasing touches left you aching. You were going on 8 days without his dick, and you were dying.

As you sit hunched over the desk, trying to make out what Yuji had written on his worksheet, Shoko bounds up to the table, sliding into a chair opposite Gojo.

“Hey, Gojo,” she says. “Are you going to the winter festival when we get back?”

You tried not to react. You had begged him to go with you, but he always gave you the same excuse; it was suspicious.

He stretches his legs out a bit and smirks. “I was planning on stopping by. Why?”

Shoko smiles. “I have this friend, Himiko. She’s new to the city and was looking for a date for the festival. I’ve been telling her all about you, I honestly think you would be an amazing match. What do you say?”

You feel your heart drop to your stomach. Although you and Gojo had agreed to stay exclusive, you couldn’t ignore that he was Satoru Gojo. Everyone wanted him.

Gojo chuckles a little, adjusting his mask. “Sure. I don’t see why not. Is she cute?”

Shoko leans over the table and shows him Himiko’s social media while you keep your head down, staring at the pile of worksheets in front of you.

You keep grading, trying to focus on your work and not the feeling of your heart tearing in two. Gojo continues laughing and talking to Shoko, their conversation drowned out by your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You wish you could ignore your jealousy, but it’s hard to ignore the anxiety creeping up your spine at the thought of Gojo finding someone else, especially if he could go public with them.

You know his reputation; the ladies' man, the bachelor. The guy no one can catch. But you know the real Gojo, the one that stays over at your small apartment even though he has his own, bigger place. The one that cuddles you every morning and whines when you try to get up and get ready.

You don’t know this Gojo. You felt like strangers.

For the rest of the day, you kept to yourself, grading papers and reading books to try to drown out the thoughts. He isn’t even looking at you when you leave the men’s cabin and head back to your own. You and the rest of the staff leave Nikko tonight, and you have one more day of freedom back in Tokyo before the new term begins.

You pack up your stuff and wait outside the bus, shoving your suitcase into the undercarriage. A headcount is done before you all start piling onto the bus. You sit in the back, pressed up against the frost-covered window. Headphones in and music blaring, you only look up from your phone when you feel someone warm sit next to you.

You’re a little surprised when you look up to see Gojo getting comfortable next to you. He didn’t sit next to you on the ride to Nikko, he sat up at the front with Shoko and Akari, claiming it would be suspicious if you sat together. He leans closer, so close that you can almost feel his breath on your neck. Then he grabs your arm, moving your headphones out of your ear.

“Don’t wear these in public,” he says in a low voice, “Someone might grab you from behind and pull you into the crowd.” He leans into you and whispers, “I almost missed you sitting back here.”

You should be mad, but you can’t be. His smell fills your nostrils and you feel yourself succumbing to him. You smile softly. “You didn’t, though.”

"I didn't." He leans back and sighs, resting his hands behind his head and stretching his arms out. You enjoy the warmth coming from him, the way it spreads through you. "What do you want to do when we get back home? We can head out to a bar and grab a drink. Or we could go get some ramen from that place you like. Or we can just go back to your place and we can spend some…quality time together.”

You bite your lip a little. You’re normally a little feral when it comes to Gojo, but going without his touch for eight days has almost sent you into a frenzy. “I like the sound of that last one…”

Gojo laughs and squeezes your hand, running his thumb along your knuckles. "And how bad do you want it?" He leans in closer until his face is inches away from yours. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in the air. "How badly do you miss me, baby?"

You can hardly think straight. Your mind is telling you to push him off, to stay upset with him for accepting that date with Shoko’s friend, whatever her name was. But your heart, and more importantly your pussy, is telling you differently.

Your mouth feels like cotton, but you manage to say, “So badly, Gojo. I’ve been aching without you. These past eight days have been driving me crazy.”

Gojo chuckles and traces your chin with his fingers, leaning even closer as his face towers over yours. "You missed me, huh? My pretty girl didn’t do so good without me, did she?" He strokes your cheek gently, smiling as you lean into his touch, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. "Say it. Tell me what you've been wanting to tell me for the last eight days, what you didn't want to say in front of everyone."

The bus suddenly lurches and you remember where you are, on a cramped bus surrounded by your coworkers. You look around, nervous, hoping nobody caught you guys.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Gojo asks. He grabs your chin and turns you to face him. “Look at me.”

You do, nodding softly. You can’t see his eyes, but you can still feel him staring into your soul. “I am looking.”

“Then answer my question.” He says, dragging his thumb across your lips. You can hardly think straight already being this close to him, but the feeling of his thumb on your mouth is mind-numbing.

“I missed you,” you whimper. It’s been a long eight days since you last felt his touch, since you last felt his breath on your skin. As he continues to stroke your lip with his thumb, you feel your mind melt away into a puddle. His touch is like a drug, and you’re desperate to not end this feeling.

“I know you have.” He coos, moving his hand down as someone up by the front gets up from their seat to change positions. He waits until they sit down before speaking again, “I’ve missed you too.”

You sink further into the seat, hoping no one looks towards the back. The bus ride isn’t super long, only about two and a half hours. Maybe no one would think to check on you two until you made it back to Tokyo.

He reaches over and turns your face towards him again. “But that’s not all, is it?” His thumb glides across your neck, his eyes under his mask flicking between your own and your lips. You can’t look away. You don’t want to. “What else have you been thinking about?”

You gulp, your mouth dry. "It's been so hard without you. It's hard to fall asleep...and I've barely gotten any sleep here because I stay up all night thinking about you."

"You have?" His eyes search your face as his thumb strokes the length of your neck. "I haven't had the best sleep either. I kept thinking about you, about how much I missed you. Thinking about all of the things I wanted to do to you when I got back." He takes a deep breath, his eyes flicking to your lips, his breath coming out in hot puffs of air. "You make it so hard for me to have self-control. Do you know how hard it is to jerk off with Masamichi and Kiyotaka nearby?"

You nod, understanding him completely. You had tried to touch yourself, too, hoping that your fingers would feel the same but it felt weird to do it with Shoko and Akari in the same cabin. “I know. I haven’t cum since we left Tokyo.”

He hears the soft whine in your voice and grins. "You’re so tempting," His breath washes over you as he whispers those words in your ear. His hands trail from your neck to your cheek, his thumb brushing along your jawline. "Do you know what I want to do with you when we get to your place? What I'm thinking about doing to you right now?"

The bus takes a sharp turn going down the mountain and it snaps both of you back to reality for a second.

You notice his hands still on you. Gojo notices too and grins, removing his hands with a sigh. He leans back into the seat. "Sorry," he says, running his hands through his hair. "I was a little carried away there." He chuckles. "We have a while before the bus arrives. I think maybe I should go to the front before I do anything stupid."

You go to protest but he’s already gone, striding to the front of the bus effortlessly as it rocks side to side, plopping himself next to Akari. You sit there, your body still feeling the heat of his hands, his words still ringing in your ears. You sink deeper into the seat as you try to calm down. You watch him for a while, seeing how he talks and laughs with Akari and Shoko and the way he never glances back toward you.

You feel like a stranger to him, yet he’s the one who’s supposed to be yours. You were supposed to be together, even though your situation is less than ideal. The bus rocks back and forth, its engines humming quietly. You lean your head back against the seat, letting out a deep sigh. Your mind races, wondering how Gojo acts when you're not around. Did he only accept this date with Himiko to make Shoko happy? Why wasn't it ever you that made him happy?

You sniffle, blinking away the tears as you pull down the food tray and prop your phone up. You put on your favourite movie, hoping the familiar faces of the characters will distract you until you reach Tokyo. Occasionally you look up at him, hoping you’ll catch his eye before he goes back to his conversation but you don’t. He doesn’t look at you once.

The movie sucks you in like it has many times before. You don’t notice how fast time is moving, silver-tipped mountains giving way to serene towns and stretched farmland. It’s late, almost 1 am, and as soon as you feel yourself starting to fall asleep you feel the bus stop and hear the driver announce your arrival, right in front of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

You look over to see him already heading off of the bus with Shoko and Akari, heading in the direction of Kabukicho, laughing about an inside joke you’ll never be a part of. You grab your bag from the undercarriage and head to the train to head back to your apartment in Taito-Ku.

The train is packed full of tired salarymen and high school students, none of whom bother you. Your thoughts drift to Gojo as the train shakes and shudders its way back home. When the train finally reaches Taito-Ku’s station, you exit the train and head down the stairs, stepping out into the frozen city. You walk to your apartment and head inside, shutting the door to your small, solitary room.

You lie awake, hoping he’ll call you, or even show up at your front door drunk. It wouldn’t be the first time. The minutes turn into hours, your eyes shifting rapidly as you glance between your phone and the door. You start to wonder if he’s thinking about you as much as you’re thinking about him right now. And what he’s thinking. You glance at your clock. 2:57 AM.

You shouldn’t feel disappointed, but you do. He could’ve at least texted you and told you he would be out with his friends for the night instead of being curled up with you watching a cooking show. You’re his, but you’re not his girlfriend. He has no obligation to do anything with you, really, but you wish he would. You wish he cared enough to want to.

Your eyes glance back toward your phone and you hesitate. You mumble a curt fuck before picking it up and calling him. The phone is ice cold against your cheek as it rings. You wonder what your contact name is on his phone. Your name? Your name and a heart? Or is it just your number, unsaved?

He answers and you can hear faint music in the background. “Hey, baby.”

You smile a little, biting your lip. “Hi. I just wanted to see if you were coming over tonight.”

You hear him groan a little, but you don’t know if it’s out of annoyance with you or how late it is. “Yeah, I was planning on it. But uh, Shoko brought her friend tonight, Himiko. The one I’m going to the festival with.”

You nearly choke on your spit. The way he was so casual about his date with Himiko made you feel sick. “Oh, did she?”

“Yeah, baby. How are you though-” His words are interrupted by a female voice in the background begging for him to come back inside. “Uh, listen, I gotta go. I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Okay, I-” The call ends, your phone beeping at you as he hangs up. You set your phone aside, face down, as you lay back on your bed.

You feel ashamed as you cry. Gojo isn’t your boyfriend, and he has a reputation to uphold with his colleagues. You should be fine with it, but you aren’t, and it kills you. You bury your face in your pillow as you sob, hoping one day you and Gojo can stop being strangers.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part two is here

#keikiwrites #gojo x reader #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #f!reader #✿: gojo!

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hxxsxxng · 2 months

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JAY 박종성 - CRIMSON HONEY : I

MINORS DNI

Word Count : 4.1k

Genre : SMUT, AU

Content : dub con, kidnapping, somewhat implied stalking, mentions of blood, almost loss of consciousness, manipulation, vampire, choking, nipple play, teasing, fingering, oral f recieving, spanking, hair pulling, masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, begging, probably other things lmk what i missed

Synopsis : After a long night of partying, you end up not making it home. Forcefully taken from the alley way, your night changed for the worse…. or for the better

Authors Note : I would really appreciate some feed back on this, this is my first time writing any sort of alternate universe story. love yall <3

SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING if you want

She's walking through a darkened alleyway, when she suddenly hears footsteps approaching her from behind. She stops and turns around, only to discover that they aren't footsteps, but the sounds of heavy breathing. She looks around, terrified, and realizes that someone has fallen into step behind her.

She picks up her pace, but the footsteps behind her pick up speed as well. She starts to panic, not knowing what to do. She looks around again, desperately trying to spot an exit or a friendly face. She is close to reaching a streetlight when a hand grabs around her wrist and pulls her roughly into a shadow-filled corner.

She struggles weakly against the grip of the hand holding her wrist, but is unable to break free. As she gasps for breath, her eyes adjust to the dim light and she realizes that it is a man who is holding her. She looks at his face and realizes she has never seen him before. His eyes glow red, black hair falling over his eyes, and his fangs glinting menacingly in the starlight, an unmistakable mark of a vampire.

The vampire stares at her, cold and emotionless, his grip tightening around her wrist. Despite her struggles, she is unable to break free. She stares back at him unblinkingly, knowing the futility of trying to get away from him. He leans closer to her, his breath hot on her neck, his fingers tightening around her wrist until they almost draw blood. She shivers, her fear now palpable.

He pulls her roughly towards him, his eyes burning into hers. Despite the threat of pain, she is overwhelmed by the power of his presence. It seems inevitable that he would kidnap her or take her back to his home.

The vampire leads her back to his home, taking her down dark alleyways and narrow streets, avoiding the crowds and the light. She is terrified, but also strangely captivated by him. His grip on her wrist never loosens, his fingers digging into her skin.

He finally stops in front of an imposing looking mansion, looming over the street with its dark shutters and peeling paint. He opens the door and pulls her inside, shutting the door behind them.

Inside, the mansion is as eerie as its exterior. The walls are covered in dusty veils, the air stagnant and stale. The furniture is covered in a thick layer of dust, the floors in need of a good cleaning. Although the mansion looks like it has been deserted for centuries, the vampire appears as if he lives here.

The vampire leads her through the dusty hallways, passing by rooms filled with cobwebs and furniture covered in dust. They come to a stop in front of a heavy-looking door, its surface bearing faint scratch marks. He opens the door and pushes her inside.

Inside the room, an odd smell fills the air, a mixture of musk and decay. The furniture is made out of dark wood, the floor bare. There are no curtains on the windows, so the moonlight spills into the room, creating ominous shadows on the walls. The vampire closes the door behind them and leans against it, watching her.

The vampire stares at her, his eyes burning into her. She is afraid but also filled with excitement. She can feel her breathing quicken, her heart beating faster. He walks closer to her and leans down until his face is just inches from hers.

She flinches from the pain, but despite the pain she feels a strange sensation coursing through her. The vampire continues to stare at her, his eyes straight into hers, his grip on her wrist tightening even more.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you?" the vampire asks. She glances down at his hand around her wrist, feeling the tightening squeeze. She stays silent, not wanting to answer. She doesn't know what he will do, but she is afraid that it will be something terrible.

The vampire gazes at her,"Oh, I think you know," he says.

The vampire's words send chills down her spine. She tries to swallow her fear, but the thought of what might happen is too terrifying to ignore. She keeps her silence, but her body betrays her with her increasing breathing and trembling. She feels the vampire glaring into her eyes as if he can see past her skin and into her mind.

The vampire tilts his head slightly, his eyes still holding hers. He's studying her, assessing her reactions. "Your fear amuses me," he says in a low, growl-like whisper. She continues to stay silent. Her breath is faster now, her heart beating against her chest. She feels his gaze boring into her, as if he is trying to find something inside of her.

The vampire walks around her, inspecting her, his eyes taking in her body. Her heartbeat quickens even faster, her breath catching in her throat. She is unable to move, unable to speak. She feels like a mouse in the presence of an apex predator, totally helpless.

The vampire's gaze moves over her body, up and down, scanning every inch of her. She feels defenseless and vulnerable. Her breath quickens further, her heart pounding in her chest. She closes her eyes, trying to remain perfectly still and not draw attention to herself. Her fear is growing, and she feels like she could burst into tears at any moment

The vampire comes to a stop, standing directly in front of her. He leans down, his eyes burning into hers once more.

"You're afraid."

His voice is low and gruff, like gravel being scraped together. She doesn't respond, just blinks as a response.

"I can see it in your eyes," he whispers. "Your fear."

His voice has a low, husky growl to it, like a lion about to pounce on its prey. He lingers in front of her, his eyes drilling into hers.

The vampire continues to stare at her. He seems unnaturally calm for someone who has just abducted a woman. He leans even closer, his breath hot on her neck. "Your heartbeat is quickening," he says, his voice low and hoarse. "You're starting to get excited, aren't you?"

"I can feel the heat of your body," he says, his voice a low whisper now. She can feel his breath on her skin. "You're trying to hide it, but I can feel it."

He can feel the tension in the room grow thicker. "My name is Jay, what is your name doll?"

She refuses to respond.

The vampire moves even closer, until his face is just inches from hers. He speaks again, his voice hoarse and low. "I know what you're feeling," he says. "Excited, afraid, aroused... you're trying to hide it, but I can see it all."

His gaze drops down to her lips. She tries to look away, but he catches her chin between his thumb and index finger.

Her pulse speeds up further and she begins to shake. "Please," she whispers. "Please don't. Let go of me..."

Her plea causes his eyes to darken with desire. His eyes burn with an intensity that scares her beyond reason. Suddenly, her entire body stiffens as a violent shudder runs through, shaking her. She tries to scream, but her mouth won't open. The sound of her voice seems muffled and distant, as if she is underwater.

She tries to fight, but she can't get herself to. She feels herself becoming weaker and smaller as Jay continues to tower over her, his eyes blazing with lust and hunger as he leans closer to her. Suddenly, he raises his other hand up, his claw tips grazing against her throat, causing her to gasp involuntarily. She sees his fingers curl around her neck, squeezing, slowly cutting off her air supply. She can taste iron fill her mouth. She gasps desperately for air. She struggles to breathe and her vision begins to swim with darkness. She tries to pull her face away, but his grip only tightens.

Suddenly, the vampire releases her, letting her fall to her knees, wheezing for air. The vampire steps back, arousal building in his pants at the site of the creature in front of him.

Her hands tremble as she attempts to stand, but she collapses onto the ground before she has had time to regain her balance. Still panting, she glares angrily at him, her breathing harsh and ragged.

"What do you want?" she snaps, wiping the sweat off her forehead.

The vampire smiles at her. His teeth gleam in the dim light, sharp and pointy.

"I want you..." he murmurs, his voice deep and dark. He approaches her, stopping right beside her as she continues to glare at him.

She feels his fingertips graze lightly across her shoulder and her breath catches in her throat. She wants to pull away from him, but the fear in her eyes makes her freeze and unable to escape. His fingers slide along her bare arm, caressing her skin, his breath fanning across her cheek.

"I want you," he breathes, his voice full of promise and longing. "All night long, I've wanted you..."

As soon as those words leave his lips, a wave of dizziness hits her, the world spinning around her. Her breathing starts getting heavier and her whole body aches. A dull throbbing starts in her neck, making its way towards her chest. It spreads throughout her body, leaving her dazed and weak. Maybe he was a bystander to her long night at the club, admiring from afar? She has never met this man.

The darkness creeps up on her, closing in on her from all sides, threatening to engulf her completely. Jay stands there staring at her, his eyes bright with pleasure as he watches her struggle for life. He looks so handsome, his black hair curling slightly at the edges, his features soft and delicate. She feels the warmth of his touch on her skin, his warm breath on her ear. The room is so very quiet, the only sounds she can hear are her own laboured breathing and the blood pumping in her ears.

Then everything goes black. He punctures her neck, blood gushing from her carotid artery. The sweet taste of her crimson red blood fills his mouth. Sweetest human he's ever tasted, like honey. He doesn't know if he can stop.

Her body falls limp at a almost loss of conciousness, his fangs still buried deep in her neck. He pulls them out slowly, sucking her blood into his mouth, savouring the taste. He licks his lips, then looks up at her. There is no emotion on her face, not even surprise or confusion as he stares at her. There is nothing in her eyes. They are blank, void of all emotion.

A smile breaks out across his face. "Do you like it?" he asks her in a soft, silky tone

She remains still, not responding to his question, still feeling woozy from the sudden loss of blood. The vampire stares deeply into her eyes. Her pupils are dilated, and her heartbeats become erratic.

"Yes, do you like it?" he says again as the corner of his mouth lifts into a mocking grin. "Is it enough for you?"

"Y...yes..." she replies weakly, barely audible.

He grins in satisfaction at her reply. "That's good." His lips curve into a smirk as he watches the human struggle to stay awake and conscious.

"Are you going to kill me?" She finally asks in a hoarse whisper. Her voice wavers as she speaks, and her vision becomes darker.

"I'm going to fuck you" he snapped

He reaches down, pulling her to her feet and wrapping one arm firmly around her waist. Her head hangs limply, barely able to keep it upright, as he drags her toward his office.

She tries to resist, to break free, but her body is too weak, her mind too muddled, too clouded, to do so. The vampire's grip on her tightens, making her moan in pain. He stops when they reach his office. He pushes her down onto the couch, sitting down beside her.

"How did you find me?" she asks quietly, turning towards him and looking at him intently with her bleary, unfocused eyes.

"It doesn't matter how," he says, smirking. "What matters is that I am here now and we have unfinished business."

She frowns, her brow furrowing. "We?"

He nods his head in response, reaching out to run his hand softly along the side of her face.

"Me," he murmurs lowly. "You belong to me."

He leans forward, his mouth crashing against hers hungrily. He kisses her roughly, possessively, licking his way inside her mouth. His tongue dances deliciously with hers, dancing a seductive dance while it explores her. Jay takes his time, tasting every inch of her mouth. He tastes her blood mingling with his tongue, their kiss is fierce and passionate. He kisses her roughly, eagerly, his tongue exploring her mouth with such thorough and demanding intimacy.

Her arms wrap tightly around his shoulders. He slides his hands under her T shirt, running his fingers gently across her stomach, causing goosebumps to appear on her exposed flesh. Her mouth parts as his fingers brush lightly against her nipple. Slowly, he pulls her T shirt up over her head, revealing what he has been so desperately waiting to see.

Her breasts are small and pert. He can see the tip of her breast poking through her thin bra. With another deep thrust of his tongue into her mouth, he pulls away from her and cups her breast in his hands, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Her hips buck upwards instinctively, eager for more attention from him.

"You smell so good," he mutters against her skin, placing several lingering kisses across her cheek and down her jawline until he reaches her ear, placing gentle nibbles along her neck.

He moves his mouth towards her ear, inhaling deeply at her intoxicating scent, the aroma of her blood filling his nostrils and making him lose control. "You taste delicious," he growls.

"Please." Her voice is a whimper, filled with desire and anticipation. Her body trembles as she moans, begging him to take her now, to fulfill her desires. Her voice is soft and pleading, almost desperate.

"Please," she says again.

He shakes his head, laughing silently in amusement. "No, darling. This is just the beginning."

He leans forward and places open mouthed kisses along her neck and collarbone, leaving trails of hot, burning kisses as his lips move down her torso and over her belly button. He lowers his head, burying his face against the sensitive skin between her breasts. A moan escapes her lips and she wraps her hands in his curls and squeezes.

His teeth sink deeper, grazing the surface of her skin, drawing an involuntary moan from her throat. His tongue swirls around the area, licking it gently, sending sparks racing up and down her spine.

He lets go of her nipple and wraps both his hands around her lower abdomen. He pulls her towards him, bringing them closer together, rubbing himself against her.

His mouth finds her nipple once more, suckling her tenderly as he circles his tongue against it. Another sound leaves her lips as she arches her back. He pulls at her hips with one hand, using the other to unbutton her jeans. His mouth moves lower, teasing, kissing, caressing every part of her exposed skin before settling on her pussy, swirling his tongue around the swollen clit, making her shudder in delight.

His hand slides down between their bodies, pressing his palm over her entrance, stroking and circling it. She gasps in surprise, arching against his hand in pleasure as his fingers rub at the nub of nerves inside her pussy.

Her hands move down to cover his, covering his hand which rests between their bodies, stroking him with her fingers. Their hips grind against each other, their bodies moving in rhythm with each other, their moans muffled by their heated kisses and ragged breathing.

He groans loudly, lifting his head from her chest, his green eyes blazing with hunger as he looks her straight in the eye.

"Touch yourself for me." He orders her, holding her gaze. "Imagine it's me who is fucking you."

She nods her head obediently, lowering her hands to stroke herself, squeezing her fingers inside of her vagina.

"Just for me." He orders. "Just imagine me inside your pussy. Make me come inside you. Let it all spill out. Show me that you want this. Do it"

Tears stream down her face as the thought of him filling her with his seed causes her legs to shake uncontrollably, her whole body trembling. She begins to cry in desperation, her nails digging into his skin as she grips onto him, riding her hand hard and fast, moaning violently.

Jay stands up from the couch, taking the shaking woman in his arms, carrying her into his large master bedroom, setting her on the bed. He kneels between her legs, his mouth finding her pussy once again. His tongue swipes across her clit, her muscles tensing as he sucks on her sensitive nub. He feels himself swelling, his cock twitching impatiently.

As he raises his head, his eyes are wild with lust, as he gazes at her writhing naked body beneath him. She shudders in ecstasy, as his tongue continues its assault upon her cunt. She opens her eyes, staring at him in disbelief. She doesn't understand what she's seeing. The man she knows to be evil, the handsome vampire that had tortured her, was now pleasuring her. It felt surreal.

"Look at me," he commands, grabbing hold of her chin with his hand, tilting her head slightly upward. She closes her eyes as her tears continue to flow, unable to look away from him, unable to stop crying.

He smiles widely and chuckles softly. "Do you like what you see?"

She bites her lip. "Stop it."

He ignores her request and runs a gentle finger down the length of her pubic hair. "Do you want me to lick my way up your pussy? Does it feel nice?"

She whimpers, her back arching involuntarily. She turns her head towards the ceiling, trying her best to avoid looking at him.

"Do you?" He repeats with a playful tone.

She whines.

He laughs again, brushing his knuckles up and down her inner thigh. "Does it feel good?" He repeats in a husky whisper.

She whimpers loudly, clenching her eyes shut.

"Good girl." He praises, running his hand slowly up her thigh once more.

"Please..." She begs.

He stops suddenly, withdrawing his hand from her thighs and standing up. He grabs her wrist and twists it around behind her back, holding it there painfully. She cries out in pain, biting her lip to stifle the sobbing that threatens to escape her throat.

He releases his grip on her wrists slowly, pulling her arms apart so that her hands rest limply against her sides, her elbows bent at awkward angles.

"Turn around," he commands, his voice hoarse and rough.

She obeys him reluctantly, turning around so that she is facing the wall. She sighs in relief when he finally releases her, allowing her to drop her arms to her side.

She wants him. More than anything else she could ever need. All she wanted was him to be inside of her. And he would be. She couldn't imagine having sex without him.

But she wasn't going to tell him that.

She hears the sound of clothes being removed quickly followed by the rustling of sheets.

She bites her bottom lip nervously, watching intently as she hears him walking around the bed.

Suddenly, there is a sharp slap and her body jerks in shock. Her ass stinging is pain. He props up behind her, lining his cock up with her wet enterance. She tenses at first, anticipating the intrusion of his body. But as he pushes himself inside of her, she gasps in surprise at the feeling of his long, thick shaft sliding in and out of her wetness. She can feel him stretching her insides, his balls pushing into her backside forcefully. His hands reach around, resting themselves firmly on her upper arms, keeping her in place as he slowly begins to fuck her. He pumps his hips faster and faster, causing her to gasp at the intensity of his movement.

She moans softly, closing her eyes in pleasure as she feels his hard penis pushing against her ass, penetrating her further. She opens her eyes again, looking back at his face as he fucks her, thrusting himself deep inside of her again and again.

"Oh God..." She murmurs. "It feels good" she cries in agony.

The sound of their flesh slapping against each other soon begins to fills the room and echoes loudly through the house. She cries out in ecstasy as he slams his hard erection against her ass harder and harder, driving himself deeper into her tight core while continuing to rock his hips furiously.

She moans louder. "Jay~~~"

"That's my girl. Scream my name, baby. I'm going to make you feel so good." He growls. He reaches forward, grabbing her hips and lifting her up so that her ass is facing him. He holds her there for a second before slamming himself even further inside of her. She cries out loud as her walls tighten around him. He keeps thrusting into her, hitting her g spot over and over, driving her crazy.

Jay snakes his hand up her spine and grabs a fist full of her hair, ripping her head back closer to him.

"I want to hear your cute fucking moans, princess" he whispers in her ear. He lets go of her head and throws it back into the mattress forcefully.

She bucks upwards, tightening around him again, moaning loudly. She wants this. She needs this. Needs his touch and his heat wrapped around her body and his hardness buried deep inside of her.

He groans as he feels her pussy clenching around him.

She cries out as he begins pumping himself even harder against her, his cock throbbing heavily inside of her. They moan each others names as they begin to ride each other fast and furious, cumming together. Her entire body shakes wildly as she comes undone. She moans out loud, letting go of everything as her orgasm takes over her body once again, exploding inside her pussy. She trembles around him as her climax hits her hard and heavy, her walls tightening around his dick.

After a few minutes her shaking ceases. Jay lets her go and lays beside her, caressing her hair, placing small kisses on her forehead.

"You're beautiful like this. So soft and pliable."

He snuggles close to her side, hugging her tightly against him, kissing her bare chest whilst leaving bite marks here and there lightly. She presses her nose against his chest, inhaling deeply and wrapping her arm loosely around his torso as she buries her face into his warm neck.

They lay like that for quite some time, contentedly snuggling up close to one another, enjoying the closeness of their bodies, the warmth of their bodies intertwined together.

A few seconds later a sudden thought crosses her mind and causes her to stiffen in his grasp.

"How do you know what happens next?" She asks, her voice wavering as she feels tears well up in her eyes, her body shaking in fear. "What will happen when...when we have sex? I...I want that too. I really, really do...but...I don't know if you...if you'll like me or not afterward. What if...what if you don't?"

His body tenses underneath hers for a moment before relaxing once more. He pulls her closer towards him, rubbing his cheek against hers. "Don't worry about that now, little love. Just relax. You need to sleep now anyway. I am going to keep you here for a while"

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genericpuff · 2 months

Note

hello! i was trying out the amazing brush pack that you and other community members put together (ty sm btw, its literally so fun to use), and i was wondering what color you set the add canvas brush to, and also how large it should be?

Eyyyy I'm glad you've been getting use out of it!! It's such a fun brush pack, I'm still discovering new things in it myself haha

When I use the Add Canvas brush I'll typically choose a color that matches the palette of the scene I'm working in! Ex. the Olive Branch scene in Episode 46 had a canvas overlay with a very light yellow / orange color. I put the canvas texture on a separate layer which I then set to Overlay and adjust the opacity of so that it doesn't wash out the colors (and then I pick a very light version of whatever color I'm using, I'm talking like an inch away from white because otherwise it winds up being too dark and oversaturating the scene)

And yeah that's with the brush turned up to max size because otherwise it would take forever to fill in LOL

Hope that helps!! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

#ask me anything #ama #anon ask me anything #anon ama

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coryothesub · 3 months

Text

First Time

Feeling a bit more on the softer side right now so here's a little something about reader taking Coryo's v card and him first exploring his submissive side, it started as a blurb but turned into a whole ass one shot

nsfw / mdni / virgin!coryo /lightdom!reader

Was this your 6th, 7th or 8th date? You couldn't quite remember, but you had done all sorts of things. Wined and dined, seen some art, danced, laughed, had some deep conversations and exchanged lots of kisses.

You had done everything except for the one thing you were craving the most. Sure you had been fooling around and once it had even turned into a topless make out session. But nothing more. So at this point all you were able to think about was having him inside you.

It was a calm night in, you were chilling on the sofa, watching movies, Coryo laying on top of you, his head resting on your right boob and his hand gently squeezing the left one through your baseball shirt. You were playing with his curls, fantasizing about how you could tug on them while he’s fucking into you.

“You like my boobies, don't you?” you asked, your fingers crawling to meet his atop of your breast intertwining them together.

Coryo looked up at you with a calm expression on his pretty face.

“They feel so soft…” he murmured.

Your leg got numb and you slightly adjusted your position under him, discovering something that had been previously hidden from you. His dick was hard.

That was new. You had suspected it happening during some of your previous encounters but he always managed to disappear with some stupid excuse as soon as it happened. It always left you confused and so damn horny.

Cocky smirk appeared on your face.

“Seems like you REALLY like them,” you glanced down at him wiggling your tight just where it met his prominent bulge.

You noticed a glimpse of panic in Coryo's eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to be disrespectful,” he sat up trying to cover up the front part of his sweatpants.

“It's okay, Coryo!” you had to raise your voice to get through to him. “You're alright.”

You sat up and raised your eyebrow flirtatiously.

“I can help you with that, y’know… C’mere!” you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close before planting a soft kiss on his lips. You felt his heart beating at what seemed like an enormous pace.

“I…” Coryo whispered against your lips shyly. “Haven't really done it. Like, I have received some handjobs and stuff, but it never went all the way.”

“You're a virgin!” you tried to hide your surprise to avoid making him uncomfortable, but it didn't turn out quite as you had planned.

He nodded quickly, red blush tinting his cheeks.

You felt arousal building inside your lower abdomen at the thought alone. Such a sweet innocent boy, wideyed and ready to be corrupted. You could show him all the moves and hear his sweet moans as he shot his load inside you for the first time ever. Dammit you were already wet at the idea.

You crawled into his lap and straddled his thighs, gently cupping his face in your hands.

“May I ask you, why?” your voice was soft and velvety. “I mean you're awfully handsome, girls must be dying to hop on your dick.”

“It just seems wrong. It feels sort of dirty,” he pressed his fingers against his forehead realizing how that sounded. “I don't mean the girls I’ve been intimate with, but the whole concept of doing it with someone who is not right for me.”

You almost couldn't believe that. He was waiting for the one. A tiny bit naive, but also incredibly hot.

“It's alright, angel, you don't have to worry about that,” you caressed his cheek realizing that you weren't exactly the mrs right material.

“We don't have to do it now. We can make out. Or I can just lend a hand to help you with that,” you said pointing at his hard-on. Only a few layers of fabric separated it from your leaking pussy and you had to gather all your willpower not to grind against it.

Coryo made a long pause before he spoke, looking into your eyes seriously.

“Actually I have been thinking about this for a while… And I want to do it. With you. Now.”

“You sure?” you gave him a soft, but serious look, trying to cover up how triumphant you felt inside. You were ready to jump up with excitement. He was yours to have. But you needed to stay composed not to scare him off.

“Mhm,” Coryo hummed and cupped your face to share a little kiss. You deepened it letting your tongue wander between his parted lips and explore him. You planted tiny kisses on his cheeks, continuing further along his jawline and neck. Just little pecks. You wished you could suck into the soft skin marking him with bruises, but you had to control yourself. For now.

“It might be your worst experience though,” he chuckled nervously, clearly underestimating his beginner's charm.

“Just relax, sweetie,” you hummed against his neck, making him shiver at the sensation. “I will guide you through it and we’re both gonna feel very good. I promise.”

You pulled his white t-shirt over his head and started moving your hips, slowly grinding against his bulge.

“Do you like it?”

“Uh-huh,” Coryo groaned, eyes fluttering.

You watched him with satisfaction feeling his hands under the hem of your shirt. He started massaging your boobs circling his thumbs around your nipples, getting them impossibly hard under the cool skin of his fingertips. He was gentle but you could tell he was hungry for your body. Just not quite sure how to take it.

“Just look at you, already so desperate for me,” you teased before stopping your movements abruptly.

Coryo whined at the loss of the pleasant friction.

“Shhh, baby, don't forget we need you to last through the whole show, right?”

“Right,” Coryo nodded, still holding on to you. You freed yourself from his grip gently and took off your shirt, followed by your pants. Your embarrassingly soaked panties followed next as you found a more comfortable position on the couch and slowly opened your legs for him.

Coryo's eyes widened taking in the gorgeous sight, he wanted you so badly.

“You have the prettiest pussy,” Coryo filled the silence with a compliment, not sure what to do next. You took his hand and guided it between your thighs, letting his thumb slide in between your folds.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he said in a deliciously low voice as you guided him upwards to your sensitive bud. Coryo started to rub you gently, his thumb drawing circles around your clit making you moan with long awaited relief. The boy was a natural.

“Look at you, angel, making me feel so good already. Now, let's take a look at you!”

Coryo took off his sweatpants along with his boxers making your jaw drop instantly. Boy, was he well endowed.

“You're so big, Coryo,” you licked your lips, gazing upon him in awe.

“Is that okay?” he looked at you innocently secretly bathing in your praises.

“Mhm,” you mumbled and bit your lip marveling at his long handsome dick. You leaned forward and gave it a few strokes making him let out a small moan. The boy was so sensitive to your touch.

“Come here, angel,” you whispered in his ear. “I need you inside me.”

Coryo obeyed and lined up at your entrance sliding his tip up and down between your folds a few times. You moaned as his tip touched your clit eliciting a satisfied smirk on his lips.

Encouraged by your reaction he started pushing into you at a painfully slow pace. Your cunt was literally aching to have all of him inside you.

It wasn't exactly the easiest task to take all of him considering the size, but your pussy was already so ready and wet and that it gave in easily. You just couldn't help but stare at his pretty face, eyes fluttered, lips whispering sweet nothings while he was stretching you out so nicely.

“Am I doing good?” Coryo asked while establishing a steady pace. “I just wanna be good for you.”

“You're perfect,” you whispered against his lips, clenching your walls around his cock making him moan at your tightness.

“Oh, damn, my sweet angel, you're fucking me so good. So damn good at this huh,” you praised him as your pussy was melting in wetness around his massive dick.

You wrapped your legs around him bucking your hips up to feel more pressure on your sensitive spot. Coryo thrusted into you desperately, looking so delightfully pliant, so eager to please you.

“Oh baby, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, I feel it coming,” you whispered just before rolling your eyes back and cumming around his dick, completely drenching it in your juices.

“You’re such a good boy, Coryo, holding on for so long. Now cum for me darling,” you encouraged him. Your praises took him over the edge and he soon collapsed on top of you blowing his load deep inside your wet cunt and following it with a few sloppy thrusts before pulling out his dick from the warm embrace of your cum filled pussy.

You were both lying there for a moment, panting, indulging in your post orgasm bliss. You loved the feeling of his warm seed dripping from your hole.

He looked at you with happy puppy eyes looking so sweet and compliant, completely under your spell.

“That was fucking amazing,” he whispered, resting his head on your boobs. “Thank you, mommy…”

“Oh, I…” his eyes widened in sheer terror when he realized he had sait it out loud. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be weird or…”

“Shhhh, babyboy,” you pressed a finger against his lovely lips. “You’re good. You're safe with me angel. And your words are safe with me, always.”

Coryo gave you the most adorable smile. It felt so relieving knowing you were not weirded out by him calling you that.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close and sinking your fingers into his golden curls.

“If you want to be my baby boy. Then I will be honored to be your mommy.”

#i know it's kinda crappy but it's 3AM and I reedited it 3 times already #so just bear with me #coriolanus snow #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #thg #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg tbosas #tbosas #oneshot #cts post

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talesofesther · 5 months

Text

discover the beauty

Sylvie x Reader

Summary: Sylvie doesn't quite understand what you make her feel, or what she should do about it. All she knows is that you've brought a warmth to her life that had been long lost. So when you ask her to spend Christmas with you, how could she ever say no?

A/N: This is, or was supposed to be, a quick and sweet lil story with my favorite lady to give her the Christmas she deserves. Naturally, I got a little (a lot) carried away. I also feel like my writing turned out rather different in this, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. <3

Word count: 6k

Masterlist

You were not something she expected to have. Sylvie may even go as far as saying you were not something she wanted to have. Not in the beginning, at least.

It was a normal day at work the first time she saw you. During a late afternoon, with golden rays of a setting sun seeping through the windows of McDonald's. You walked in with a backpack hanging from one shoulder and the ghost of a smile on your lips. You ordered a burger and fries accompanied by an orange juice, a combination Sylvie didn't serve too often. You thanked her with an even wider smile and sat on one of the tables closest to the window. You finished eating and didn't leave, instead, you pulled a sketchbook from your backpack and started scribbling something down. All the while that you stayed, Sylvie could feel your eyes on her from time to time.

A routine started then. You'd come by almost every day, at the same time, make the same order, sit at the same table, and pull out the same sketchbook. And it went on for weeks.

There was something about you that Sylvie couldn't put her finger on, something that stole her focus and forced her to recount the change at least twice when you were around. Your presence carried an aura of calmness, being around you was easy, and talking to you felt like breathing.

Slowly, order by order, you and Sylvie grew closer. Slowly, Sylvie started to expect your presence at the end of each day.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Today was a Thursday, a day you usually stopped by. When the clock on the wall hit 4 PM, Sylvie found herself stealing glances at the main doors. Sometimes she'd chastise herself for the childish behavior, after all, why should she care if you stop by or not?

A cold breeze came in through the open windows. Sylvie leaned on the counter beside the cash register, looking out onto the parking lot; it was covered in a thin layer of white. The snow had slowly and thinly started falling just a few days ago, announcing the definitive arrival of winter and the ever-approaching festivities of the end of the year—as did the obnoxious Christmas decorations scattered all around the inside of the fast food place.

She had heard her colleagues here talking about it, Christmas, and from what Sylvie gathered it was a time for celebration and gifts, a time to spend with loved ones. When the matter came up in conversation, Sylvie hid in the corners, making herself look busy and distracted with anything she could think of. She didn't want to answer the casual questions of where she'd be spending her Christmas at, who she'd be spending it with. She didn't want to admit she had no one at all and would likely spend the night at a bar, alone.

The sound of the door being pushed open brought Sylvie back to reality, she looked up only to see you walking in, with your backpack on one shoulder and bundled up in a hoodie with a jacket on top to chase away the cold.

It was new to her, the fluttering in her stomach whenever she saw you and the warmth on her cheeks whenever you smiled at her. Everything was new. Sylvie didn't know what to do with the feelings you brought to her. It's not like she had many of those when jumping through apocalypses.

Your eyes met hers and your smile was instant, you adjusted your hold on your backpack as you approached the counter. Your greeting came in the form of a question; "Why is it that good things always have to hurt a little?"

Sylvie raised an eyebrow at you, an amused smile of her own fighting its way to her lips. Her fingernails tapped the counter softly. There were small flakes of snow hanging onto your hair, your clothes, glittering under the artificial lights; why did they make you look prettier still?

"The snow," You nodded toward the big windows behind you, "So beautiful yet so unforgivingly cold, isn't it?"

A low hum went past Sylvie's lips, she shrugged with a teasing smirk. "I don't know, I don't think it's that cold."

You huffed, already familiar with the statement yet baffled all the same, "That's because you're a special case I'm still trying to figure out."

She narrowed her eyes at you, her voice just a tad lower, "Good luck with that."

You avoided her eyes and nodded softly, smile lingering on your features. You leaned your elbows on the counter then, hands coming to stay just inches away from Sylvie's. She wondered what it would feel like to touch you.

Sylvie cleared her throat, promptly chasing away the thought. She grabbed her notepad and pen, her customer service voice making an appearance; "The usual?"

"Uh yeah," you sounded just a tad disappointed. As Sylvie wrote down your order, you leaned just a bit forward and closer to her, pursing your lips before saying; "So, any plans for Christmas?"

The pen in Sylvie's hand gave a sudden and rather forceful scratch, nearly tearing the paper. She halted, intently glaring at the out-of-place line that was now written on top of the word 'fries'. She held the silence for a moment longer, her jaw set tightly in place. For the first time in a long time, she hesitated. "… No."

A soft frown came to your features. You didn't ask, but the question was there.

"I'll probably just sleep in," Sylvie glanced up at you with her lips pressed together in a smile that looked a little too forced. She didn't give you time to answer. "Your order will be ready in a minute." She informed you, before turning around to fiddle with the ice cream machine she had already organized this morning.

Two minutes later, your order was ready. You mumbled a gentle 'thank you' to Sylvie before making a beeline to your usual table near the windows.

It was a little pathetic, really—you thought to yourself as you munched your burger—how quickly you became infatuated with the pretty attendant from your local McDonald's. Sylvie had captured your attention since the first day you walked in and said your order to her. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. But there was something else there, something about her eyes and the way she carried herself and interacted with others, that gave away the impression that she had lived a thousand lives, seen a thousand worlds, and now carried the weight of it.

Sylvie was, what you liked to call, an artist's utopia. The perfect muse. Everything about her was screaming to be written down in novels and painted to be hung in a museum. Her genuine smiles whenever she delivered a random order as well as the closed-off and tense ones whenever her colleagues crowded her. The prideful way she'd glance at her name plastered on the employee of the month display as well as the melancholic look in her eyes when she climbed in her truck at the end of the day. Each part of her seemed to tell a story bigger than anything you could fathom.

And that, was simply something you couldn't bring yourself to ignore. It started as a mere sketch of her serious expression on the first day you noticed her. And then you came back, once, twice. And it evolved into her being the biggest constant in your sketchbook. There were scribbles of her profile, her back, sometimes just her eyes or hands, smiles and frowns. Each piece of her as seen by your eyes, now eternal, shaped by the grey lines of your pencil.

Whatever could you do, after all? She was enchanting.

In the end, it was expected that she would become quite familiar with you, given how much you stop by. But you were pleasantly surprised to realize that you two clicked rather well. You'd go as far as calling her a friend now.

And today, you noticed the hints of sorrow that always danced in her expressive eyes making a more vivid appearance. Maybe that's the reason why you threw caution to the wind.

When you finished your meal, you picked up your backpack and promptly walked towards the counter Sylvie stood behind. Deciding that if you waited, your courage would most likely vanish.

She perked up when she noticed you coming towards her, a mix of confusion and expectancy painting her features. Her posture straightened as she reached for the notepad, expecting another order.

You cleared your throat, unable to properly meet her gaze and choosing to fiddle with the pen lying around in front of her. "You know, my family lives a few hours from here and I don't plan on driving there this year." Glancing up at Sylvie, you had to hold back a smile at the sight of her adorable frown. "So, I was thinking… Maybe, if- if you want," you held her gaze, words heavy on your tongue, "We could spend Christmas together." It came out more like a question than anything else. You bit the inside of your cheek, and waited.

Sylvie breathed in sharply, her shoulders tensing. Her eyes shifted from one side to the other, as if looking for an answer around the vicinity. For excruciatingly long seconds, she said nothing. And you were already thinking of a half-assed excuse to give her an out when she finally spoke.

"Okay." You'd never heard her voice this small. "I'd like that," she smiled then, it was a sweet, little thing, barely a stretch of lips; but it warmed your heart like nothing else could.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

The day before Christmas arrived both too soon and too late. Sylvie woke up this morning and her first thought of the day, as she still lay in bed, was you. And how she would be meeting you at McDonald's just like every day before, but today there was a break in the pattern; she would be leaving with you. Together.

Sylvie had reluctantly agreed to spend the night at your place when you insisted Christmas morning was the most special and crucial part of the holiday. Yet now, as the day finally was upon her, she began to wonder if she'd dug her own grave. Because her stomach twisted with the mere thought of it, her body felt all warm and fuzzy knowing she'd be spending so much time by your side, and her heartbeat skyrocketed knowing she'd be waking up the next morning only for you to be the first one she sees.

As Sylvie drove to work, she couldn't help but admit that this whole Christmas thing gave the town a rather pleasant look. Several decorations in bright red, golden, and green could be spotted in every corner of the town; string lights were a must in most buildings and houses; and inside each store at least one small Christmas tree was present.

While stopped at a red light, Sylvie's mind wandered to one specific aspect of the tradition. Gift giving.

Should she get you a gift? Did she want to?

She had never given or received any gifts. She wasn't sure if the two of you were close enough for it to be acceptable.

She gulped, grip tightening on the steering wheel. Her gaze roamed around the stores nearby and people walking on the snowy sidewalks. Just in case.

And a little further down the street, in a small corner beside a bakery, Sylvie spotted a retail store.

It wouldn't hurt to take a look, she decided.

The selection of items inside the store was… less than pleasing. They weren't bad in on themselves, but as Sylvie browsed the racks of hoodies and sweatpants and t-shirts, she felt that nothing seemed right. In her eyes, nothing particularly suited you and nothing was good enough.

A sigh went past Sylvie's lips as she ran a hand through her hair, messing it up more than it already was. She felt lost, out of place in her own skin. The few people around her were minding their own business, eyes fixed on the clothes they were after. Yet she couldn't help but think they were watching her.

She didn't know how to do this. Any of it. She didn't know what it was that you made her feel; she didn't know how to act around you without looking like this was her first shot at a normal life; she didn't know how to buy a damn gift for you.

Her mind started spiraling and she second-guessed her decision to ever say yes to all of this.

Sylvie was about to bolt out of the store and come up with some excuse about not being able to join you, when her eyes caught sight of a green and golden scarf. It was hung by itself and looked rather out of place amidst the t-shirts beside it.

Sylvie made a beeline for it, instantly reaching out to run her fingers through the soft fabric. It was comfortable to the touch, dark green wool woven with specks of details in gold; carefully made, not a string in the wrong place.

Carefully, Sylvie took it fully in her hands. This is it, she decided with a faint smile. This is perfect. You were always complaining about being cold, after all.

She walked up to the cashier with a newfound confidence, holding tight onto the precious scarf. "It's a gift," she stated rather proudly, "How do I do this?"

The woman behind the counter looked less than pleased to be working on Christmas Eve, she raised an unamused eyebrow at Sylvie; "You want it wrapped?"

Sylvie hesitated for a beat, and then recalled the many customers she had served who held bags themed with reindeer, Santas, and the like, all carrying wrapped gifts inside. It seemed to be the appropriate decision. "Yes."

After her detour for gift shopping, the day went about as normal as it could. Sylvie got to work barely on time, parked her truck in her usual spot, served a few customers, and watched as thin snowflakes fell from the sky. It wasn't a busy day, only a few and far in between walked in to grab a lunch, and most of them took it in a to-go bag.

When the clock hit 4 PM, however, Sylvie grew restless. She would be leaving earlier today, and you would be stopping by any minute now.

"Ah, almost time to leave," Carla, one of Sylvie's colleagues and one of the few who'd also agreed to work at this time of year, sighed from her place on the other side of the counter.

"Yep," Sylvie mumbled, her eyes fixed on the parking lot outside.

"Can't wait to not come to work tomorrow," Carla chuckled, "Gonna be spending the day with my kids." She smiled to herself and turned to look at Sylvie properly; "You got any plans, Sylvie?"

The enchantress' instinct was to deflect the question with something else, but her lips hovered and she found herself being engulfed in a foreign emotion. "Yes," she breathed, "I do." The soft smile on her lips held more sentiment than she cared to admit.

A gush of wind washed over her then, making her hair flow. She looked towards the entrance and saw you standing between the open doors. A familiar smile crinkled the sides of your eyes and you raised a gloved hand in a timid wave.

"And she just arrived," Sylvie spoke, more to herself than to her colleague, words dripping with something akin to adoration. She took off her hat, picked up her checkered trenchcoat from the back, and bid Clara goodbye before walking up to you.

"Hey," you greeted her, burying your hands in the pockets of your jacket. Voice sweet as honey and cheeks pink from the cold. "You ready to go?"

It scared her, that you could so easily strip her of her defenses. Her muscle memory sometimes urged Sylvie to hold onto the handle of a sword that wasn't there. If only to feel some sense of security.

She gulped, wriggling the ends of her sleeves between her fingers. This warmth, these colors you'd unintentionally brought to her life—she never realized how much she craved it until you came along.

Maybe she doesn't need her defenses anymore.

"Yeah."

With that, Sylvie climbed into her truck and you followed, giving her the instructions that led to your house. The drive was comfortable, the weight of your presence beside her, surprisingly, didn't throw her off; on the contrary, it felt like you belonged there—talking about the upcoming snowstorm of tonight and pointing out the blinking lights you passed by.

Your home turned out to be exactly as Sylvie expected it to be. Two trees stood tall in front of the small house made of dark wood, several string lights were hung all over the porch, and there was a Santa plushie peering through the window. The inside was all warm and homey, each nook and cranny of your house exuded comfort and peace.

You took off your jacket, haphazardly throwing it over the couch, and kicked off your shoes. "Please, make yourself at home," you gestured around with a wide smile. "I'm gonna make some hot chocolate to warm up, would you like one?"

With her heart in her mouth, after a lifetime of living in cold, apocalyptic worlds, Sylvie allowed herself to be enveloped by the warmth. The blinking lights of the Christmas tree in your living room danced over her skin; in her wildest dreams, she'd dreamt of this. Tears prickled her eyes.

A gentle touch brushed her fingers, and Sylvie held her breath. She glanced down to see your fingers hesitantly hooking around hers. You'd noticed the crumbling walls around her—Sylvie didn't mind. Your touch raised goosebumps on her skin. She held you tighter, "I'd love one."

You led her to the kitchen, talking about the bathroom at the end of the hall and the guest bedroom she'd be staying at, only letting go of her hand when you had to start preparing the two mugs of hot chocolate. "I'm glad you agreed to come here," you spoke casually, keeping your back to Sylvie as you skimmed around the kitchen. "I was- I was afraid you'd think I was weird for asking."

Sylvie chuckled, bashful eyes looking down at her hands. Her heart wanted to jump from her chest. She bit her lip, wondering if it would be too foolish to admit what it meant. "I was glad you did," she confessed quietly, both to you and herself. "I'd be alone otherwise."

Your movements halted, and after a beat of silence, you glanced at her over your shoulder. "I would too."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Hours went by like minutes. Chocolate wraps and a half-empty bottle of wine were now discarded on your coffee table. Somewhere along the late hours of the night, you and Sylvie ended up bundled together on your couch under a blanket, sharing stories and laughing to your heart's content as if you'd known each other for years.

You'd lost count of how many embarrassing childhood memories you'd already spilled for her, all so you could hear that laugh of hers again and again. She was beautiful like that. With the warm glow of your fireplace highlighting her features, the shape of her smile, and the strands of her hair. You did your best to capture this exact image of her in your mind, so you could put it on paper later.

Sylvie lay on one side of the couch while you occupied the other, her legs were tangled with yours under the blanket. Maybe this wasn't just a mere infatuation, you mused to yourself, drinking in the spark of her eyes and the weight of her body on yours.

She leaned her head on the back of the couch, looking at you as her smile faded from a wide grin to a soft tilt of lips. She had the look of someone who just discovered something magical. You couldn't help but think you weren't too different.

Her very presence was like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. Her melodic voice was the last thing you heard before drifting off to a light slumber, dreaming of warm colors and bright eyes.

It was a ten, maybe fifteen-minute thing. One of those naps that catch you by surprise when you're engulfed in comfort.

You woke with the feeling of the couch moving beside you and then heard the sound of pages being carefully turned. The blanket still rested comfortably over your body and the fireplace still cracked with a low flame. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you came to only to be greeted with the sight of Sylvie sitting by your side, with your sketchbook in her hands.

You inhaled sharply and held the air in your lungs, bunching up the edges of your blanket in your hands. Suddenly wide awake. You could vaguely recall forgetting the book on top of the kitchen table this morning.

Her hands held the book almost reverently, delicate fingertips tracing the lines that shaped sketches of her. They were fairly endless and now that you watched as she turned the pages, you realized there were more than what you accounted for. The dark graphite on paper outlined her hair, her eyes, her lips; and Sylvie herself gazed down at the drawings with her lips parted and eyes glazed over.

You gulped, with any possible words stuck in your throat. Would she be mad? creeped out? Maybe never want to speak with you again?

You knew that she knew you were awake already, yet for long moments, Sylvie held the silence. Her lower lip twitched at each new image of her that she discovered in your book. It almost looked like she was holding her breath too.

Gripping tightly onto your book, Sylvie finally looked up at you again; "Did you… make these?" It was nothing but a breath, almost as if she was afraid of the answer.

You merely nodded, avoiding her eyes.

Sylvie breathed in, it sounded a lot like a sniffle. She pursed her lips, looking down at the book and then back at you. "Why?"

You cocked your head to the side, focusing past your thundering heart and on the soft curve of her eyebrows and the way her bright eyes reflected the orange flames of the fireplace—they glimmered, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say it was because there were tears there.

"I uh-" Your voice stumbled, and you cleared your throat to compose yourself. "You were… captivating ever since the first time I saw you. I thought that- that there was a lot of beauty and…" You bit your lip, hesitating. "And a lot of sadness, in you. And I just… wanted to capture it. I couldn't help it, I'm sorry."

A gentle smile came to Sylvie's lips, there were too many emotions swimming behind her eyes for you to put your finger on any of them. "You think I'm…" her words were quiet, private. Her fingers fiddled with one of the pages. "I'm beautiful?"

You opened your mouth to answer just as your gaze caught sight of the window that led to your porch. Outside, you could see the heavy snow falling from the sky. A soft gasp went past your lips, "The snowstorm is starting." You threw the blanket off your lap and ran to your door, haphazardly putting on your boots before yanking the door open and rushing outside.

The snowflakes clouded the dark horizon of the night, falling rapidly like summer rain and collecting on the streets in a white blanket. The lone lamposts cast a golden light on the increasing snowfall, if you pretended enough, it almost looked like specks of magic. The snow had always fascinated you. Despite the chilling cold it brought, you always waited eagerly for the first real snowfall of the year.

You stood in the open space of your yard, looking up at the sky and watching as cold stars fell upon your skin and clung to your clothes.

Slow footsteps that crunched the snow captured your attention. You turned around and saw Sylvie joining you, her eyes were wide in amazement as she watched the white flakes cascading down from the sky. She raised a hand to try and catch the snow, carefully so, as if the natural phenomenon could scare easily.

The snow kissed her pink cheeks and landed on her gently outstretched hand, it surrounded her as if it chose to fall tonight only so her eyes could witness, touching her with delicacy, all intimate and tender as some of the flakes melted on her. You were envious of their privilege. A breathless chuckle escaped Sylvie, and her gaze turned to you. There was a near child-like excitement glinting in her pupils and it was enchanting.

You watched as the faded light of the street lamps outlined her body, as the snowflakes clung to her eyelashes and brought a smile to her lips. The world around you blurred at the edges; there was only her and the snow. "Beautiful," you simply breathed, not an ounce of doubt in your words.

Sylvie blinked multiple times, her smile fading yet the shine in her eyes increasing tenfold. The air was suddenly charged with electricity, warm under the cold weather. Sylvie's lips parted, and you thought you saw her glancing down at your lips.

You chanced a step closer, and then another, running your tongue over your bottom lip. One of your hands brushed hers, while the other came up to tuck strands of blonde hair behind her ear.

Sylvie gripped your hand as soon as she felt your touch, as if you could disappear with the snow at any second.

"More than beautiful." The increasing wind nearly carried your voice away. You traced the outline of Sylvie's jaw with your thumb, the same one you'd traced with your pencil countless times before. "I don't think I could ever tire of drawing you."

There was no time for you to react before Sylvie took hold of your cheeks with both hands and pulled you in. Her lips crashed with yours with an unexpected delicacy. She came closer until her bare feet stood between your boots and her chest was flush with yours, as if no amount of closeness was close enough.

Her kiss was tentative and almost shy in a way, the softest lips moving in tandem with yours like they belonged together. You gripped her waist, onto the fabric of her plaid pajama shirt that you thought looked oh so adorable on her as soon as you saw her change into it.

With your eyes closed, all you could feel were Sylvie's warm touch and gasps that you kissed away, a striking contrast to the cold snowflakes falling onto your skin and melting between each stolen kiss. You wouldn't have it any other way.

Sylvie's fingers buried in the hair at the nape of your neck, she pulled away only a fraction of a second, bumping her nose with yours to fill her lungs with only the amount of air enough to get her lips back on yours. Surrendering herself to the moment, to you.

Your fingertips sneaked beneath her shirt, gingerly brushing against the skin of her hip. Sylvie shivered under your touch. Her lips tasted like chocolate and wine, all sweet and addictive.

When she pulled away, Sylvie refused to go far. Her doe eyes were swimming in a sea of adoration, almost pleadingly so. You tugged her closer still, placing a lingering kiss on her forehead. It felt like a promise, the world frozen in place to hold the moment.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

When Sylvie woke up the very next morning, she wasn't sure if it had been a dream or not. Golden rays of sunlight seeped through the window and made the snow outside shine like glitter. Sylvie touched her lips with the tip of her fingers, the memory felt almost too perfect to be real. But then again, she doubted her subconscious would ever gift her with such a blessing over the night.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Sylvie glanced at the package resting on top of the bedside table. She had been extra careful for it to not be crumpled or torn, it still looked perfect.

She ran a hand through her hair and rubbed the sleep from her eyes before getting up and walking to the window. The streets, sidewalks, and yards all around were covered in a thick layer of white snow, glistening under the sun. It was Christmas morning, and Sylvie was stalling.

Apprehension and nervousness twirled in her stomach wildly, she wasn't used to this. What if you regretted it? What if she had crossed a line?

The clattering of plates coming from the kitchen pulled Sylvie out of her mind. You were already awake.

Taking in a deep breath to steady herself, Sylvie forced her feet to move. She picked up her wrapped gift, and turned the door handle.

Immediately, Sylvie was engulfed by the smell of cinnamon and chocolate, it weaved through the air like a warm hug, making her close her eyes and inhale deeply. The enchantress couldn't help but allow her nose to guide her towards the kitchen, wood boards creaking under her bare feet and stripes of sunlight coming through the windows and shining against her pajamas as she walked.

The radio was on and you were humming along with the song playing, with your back turned to her as you worked on something on top of the counter, your hips swaying softly and hair pulled up in a haphazardly done bun. The window beside you was open, allowing for the cold breeze to come in, along with the morning sun rays, bathing your kitchen in an array of warm colors.

Sylvie's heart was in her throat, she bit her lip until she nearly tasted blood. There was a sting in her eyes as she looked at you as if she'd just realized what love felt like, what life was all about.

As you turned around, with your lower lip between your teeth and focused solely on the two mugs of hot chocolate in your hands so you wouldn't spill anything, Sylvie decided that she could get used to this. Actually, she would have a very hard time ever waking up without it. Without you.

When you noticed her standing before you, holding the wrapped gift between her hands as if her life depended on it, a huge smile broke into your lips and you lit up like the Christmas tree in your living room.

"Sylvie!" You exclaimed her name as if you'd been waiting the whole morning to say it. You left both mugs on the table and didn't waste a second before rushing to her. Sylvie barely had time to move your gift away before your body collided with hers. You hugged her tightly, bunching the fabric of her shirt between your fingers. "Merry Christmas," you whispered against her skin.

A breath Sylvie didn't realize she'd been holding went past her lips as she enveloped her arms around you, burying her nose in your hair and savoring the feeling of you. "Merry Christmas."

When you pulled away, Sylvie's cheeks were dusted pink and it had nothing to do with the cold. She avoided your gaze, looking down at the package in her hands instead. Tracing the wrapping with her thumbs, she said; "Um- I bought you this…" It almost sounded like a question, as if she wasn't sure this was the right way to go about it.

"You got me a gift?"

There was a waver in your voice that made Sylvie look up at you, only to be greeted with the sight of your eyes shining with… could it be love?

Sylvie tried to mimic your smile, as much as her nerves would allow. She nodded, pushing the gift into your hands.

You took it as if it was made of gold, hugging it to your chest. "Thank you," you breathed, before leaning in to land a peck to the corner of Sylvie's lips.

The gesture brought goosebumps up and down Sylvie's spine, and she watched with bated breath as you carefully tore open the wrapping at last. Your mouth hung open as you pulled out the scarf, tones of green and golden molding between your fingertips. You felt over the fabric, with your eyes drinking in every detail of it, until you promptly hooked the scarf around your neck and nuzzled in it; "I absolutely love it!" Your eyes crinkled on the sides because of your smile.

Sylvie's heartbeat stumbled, she reached up to trace the green fabric until her fingertips found the skin of your jaw. "It suits you."

"Oh, I just remembered," you told her suddenly and took hold of her hand so you could pull her to the living room. You dragged Sylvie to stand before your Christmas tree, and under it, rested a single box wrapped in green and red paper decorated with little Santas. "It's for you," your voice was as timid as Sylvie's had been as you pointed to the lone box.

Sylvie blinked and turned to you, squeezing your hand to make sure you were real. "You got me a gift?" She couldn't remember the last time someone had gotten her anything.

You pursed your lips and nodded, almost bouncing on your stance from excitement. "Of course. Come on, open it."

A breathless chuckle went past Sylvie's lips, and she knew right then and there, on this peaceful Christmas morning beside you, that she was a goner. She crouched down and unwrapped the box, prying it open with utmost care. From inside it, she pulled a crumple of white, green, and golden fabric. Much like the scarf she had given you, it was meticulously sewn together with a soft and comfortable wool.

Her chest felt all tight and warm with an emotion she could barely contain within herself. Standing up and stretching the fabric, Sylvie realized that it was a sweater, decorated with reindeer and Christmas trees. Peering around it and to you, she could clearly see you were holding back a grin.

"We'll be matching!" You exclaimed, clasping both your hands together.

Without a second thought, Sylvie pulled the sweater over her pajama shirt, closing her arms around herself and raising her shoulder as the soft fabric enveloped her. "It's perfect." She decided.

A soft laugh went past your lips and you raised a hand to Sylvie's hair, straightening the strands she had messed up. Your fingers brushed over the soft, blonde strands, until they fell to her shoulder and then found her hand, intertwining your fingers together.

Sylvie basked in the silence of the moment, in the feeling of your skin touching hers, of the comforting weight of your presence. She closed her eyes and gripped your hand tighter, gulping back a sudden wave of tears. From a lifetime of living in worlds on the edge of destruction, she'd found her little piece of paradise, all on her own. And she'd keep it close to heart until the end of her days.

The thumb of your free hand brushed her cheek, drying a drop of wetness there. The single tear that had fallen past her defenses. Sylvie looked at you and expected to see confusion or even judgment, but she only found care and adoration.

You brought your intertwined hands to your lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles; "I made us hot chocolate, what do you say?"

Sylvie's answer came in the form of a kiss of her own, to your lips instead.

Perfect.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Sylvie’s taglist:@milkiane @v1ci0us

#sylvie x reader #sylvie laufeydottir #sylvie imagine #sylvie #marvel #loki series #loki #sylvie x you #marvel x reader #sylvie x female reader #sylvie laufeydottir x reader #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #sylvie fanfic #my story

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muppenthings · 2 months

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Does Gorm know how to show affection? actually how does your mers that interact with people learn how to show affection?

Oh he definitely shows affection, in his own way! He's very "vocal", as in he'll communicate loads with you. Sharing knowledge, experiences, ideas and so on. He'll want to tell you all about that new thing he found or where you can find a good fishing spot. Will a human understand those rapidly changing colors and happy puffs of air? No. If he likes the person, he'll want to just hang out with them, see what they're doing and so on.

Octomers in general aren't very cuddly or affectionate, being a quite solitary species. But if they do show affection it's by holding another mer's arm, or anywhere else. A small, subtle contact. And of course there's a bioluminescence display of happiness/content.

As for learned affection, Gorm's discovered that humans can give things like pets with their small hands. It's quite interesting and he wants to experience those more. And also perhaps the humans would like those pats back?

As for my other mers, some had to learn to adjust their physical displays of affection with smaller folks. Runt is a natural at adjusting and taking ques and reading body language. So he's very much selftaught! And it helps that he's not as massive as the others.

More under the cut cause I ramble...

For Runt it's part of his nature and he'll happily show his affection to those comfortable with it. Saehl mers will rub and press their noses into eachother. They're quite scent oriented and the scent of a loved one is instant dopamine for them. So Runt is very content to shove his whole face into you, puffing happily. If you puff back he'll be ecstatic! He's very quick to adapt his affection to the individual and if someone doesn't want his face all over them, he'll happily pat them on the back instead for example. Saehls form very strong family bonds and friendships where touch is casual and constant. Sunbasking side by side, grooming and so on. So if anyone is in the vicinity, he'll want to be close and up in their space if possible. He'll also keep an eye on open, making sure that the people around him are happy and healthy too. If he senses a hint of sadness or anything, he'll do his best to make them feel better. He'll absolutely remind them of their doctor's appointment they told him about four weeks ago. xD

Tide is in the process of becoming more confident to express affection again. He wasn't truly part of the pod he was mostly raised in, his affection were either taken for granted or unwanted. He grew up thinking that affection just wasn't meant for him. He was extremely jealous and bitter of other mers giving and receiving affection so easily. Merry's being an excellent support/teacher there. He's awkward and flustered but they're very patient and encouraging. :)

Keiki is from a mer species that lives in tight-knit pods. So physical contact is very natural to him and something he needs to be happy. As he was raised by land folk, he got a lot of feedback and practise with them. They taught him to go slowly, to not lift them up too quickly, to be gentle and to not grab someone in a burst of affection etc. He can still be a little too quick sometimes and knows he can be too much so he tries his best to not be overwhelming, especially if he's on the larger side.

A thing he learned to adapt was hugging. When he was young he'd try to hug the ship (and nearly break it pfff) so they quickly had to steer that into a different outlet. To satiate the need for closeness, they taught him to instead bring them to a cheek, or cup them in his hands and hold them to his neck. He'll also make a very specific sound, like soft fluttering singing tones. It's a very unique sound that these mers only use to a loved one, it has many layers to it but it comes down to signal "I love you".

Keiki's also very happy to help out, little acts of service, when he's able to. He was raised in that everyone helps out and take care of eachother. Unfortunately he can be clumsy so the acts of thoughtfulness can take a wrong turn. He wants to help clean the deck of a boat? The deck gets completely soaked and things wash overboard. And he doesn't quite learn, he just keeps trying his best.™

Cetus is also from a species of mer that is very physical in their affection. It's instinctual, as natural as breathing. But unlike Keiki, he can't be as "small" as 200ft-ish and the humans were very strict in the no-touch department when he was growing up. So the lack of practise coupled with his sheer size, leaves him struggling with how to properly satiate the instinctual need to rub against a person he likes. So he's often rubbing against boats, or any other object, the person is on or try to rub his face against them directly. Which isn't very optimal.

But the current people working with him are slowly easing into being more physical with him. Like letting him touch them with a finger pad, or let him nose them. Still, no lifting them up. But they're slowly teaching him, and eachother, how to safely allow him to express affection.

Cetus will also bring gifts. They're not very nice gifts but he's doing what he can in such a restricted area. He'll gift things like seagulls (alive and somehow uninjured), a piece of the whale that was previously brought to him, half of a rusty bicycle...

No, he will not be taught otherwise. Better accept the seagull less he bring you a part of a boat.

#Ask #smolcomfycat #oc Gorm #oc Runt #oc Tide #oc Merry #oc Keiki #oc Cetus #I may have missed the mark on answering the actual question Im sorry xD

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pumperpup · 1 month

Text

In the shadowed corners of a bustling science convention, Dr. Felix Morveau adjusted his glasses, eyeing his next unwitting participant. He had set up a modest booth, misleadingly titled “The Future of Physical Fitness,” where his device, the Morpho Modulator, was hidden beneath a table draped in velvet. The device resembled a vintage radio, complete with dials and a large antenna, but its purpose was far from simple communication.

As the crowd thinned, a young scholar named Ethan approached, drawn by curiosity. He was slender, his body more accustomed to the rigors of academic marathons than physical ones. “What’s this about then?” Ethan asked, skepticism laced in his tone.

“Oh, just a small demonstration of potential,” Dr. Morveau replied with a sly smile. “Would you care to volunteer? It’s completely harmless, I assure you.”

Ethan hesitated but nodded, intrigued despite himself. Dr. Morveau gestured for him to stand on a marked spot in front of the device. “Just relax,” Felix advised as he adjusted the dials, the machine humming to life with a soft, electric purr.

Ethan felt a light tingling that seemed harmless, even ticklish. But as the machine's hum deepened, that tingling escalated into a potent, all-consuming buzz that coursed through his body. The sensation was both unsettling and enthralling. His muscles began to respond—first tightening, then expanding, growing visibly with each passing second. As the transformation gained momentum, Ethan’s discomfort mingled with an unexpected rush of exhilaration. “I—I think that’s enough,” he stammered, but his voice was drowned out by the escalating whir of the machine.

Dr. Morveau, his eyes alight with the thrill of experimentation, barely nodded at Ethan’s concern. “Just a bit more, let’s push the boundaries,” he murmured to himself more than to Ethan, and with that, he turned the dial up dramatically.

The effect was instantaneous. Ethan felt a powerful surge within him as his muscles expanded at an even faster rate. His biceps swelled, stretching the fabric of his sleeves to a near breaking point. His chest broadened, each new muscle fiber knitting together with astonishing speed and definition.

Overwhelmed by the intensity, Ethan closed his eyes, a deep moan escaping him as he surrendered to the transformation. The growth was rapid, each second adding layers of muscle that Ethan had never possessed nor imagined. His back widened, shoulders ballooning as they packed on mass. The euphoria of the transformation, fueled by the sudden acceleration, was profound—his body was not just growing, it was being sculpted into something formidable, powerful beyond his wildest understanding.

“Marvelous! Look at the definition, the symmetry!” Dr. Morveau exclaimed, utterly captivated by the sight. He observed every detail with the fascination of a scientist witnessing a great discovery, oblivious to the ethical boundaries he was overstepping.

Ethan, still with eyes closed, felt every fiber of his being stretched and expanded. The growth was exhilarating, a primal joy in gaining strength so rapidly, yet it was also terrifying—his own body becoming unfamiliar under the relentless expansion of muscle.

With a loud crack and a burst of sparks, the Morpho Modulator exploded, smoke billowing around Felix. The transformation halted abruptly, leaving Ethan massively muscled and towering, stuck in a state of shock and disbelief.

Felix, face blackened with soot but unharmed, looked at the remnants of his machine, then at Ethan, and finally at the shocked audience. "It appears we've discovered his limit," he remarked dryly.

#ai generated #ai #body expansion #musclegrowth #male muscle growth #muscle expansion #muscle inflation #ai muscle growth #muscle growth story

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noctilin · 9 months

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Hello!! You must receive so many of these types of asks already but know everyone of us appreciates so so so very much.

Very recently I discovered you through your brushes and have been attempting to study yours and others who use your brushes art! It's a little tough but to be expected!! I have a multitude of questions but I'll stick with my most pressing. The SOL and CIRO brushes are a bit transparent and light. I wanted to use these brushes to learn a more paintish style, but your linework is crispy and dark? When I line with the brushes, the color underneath them starts to bleed through them and sometimes makes it look a little choppy if I end up erasing or the base color isn't under every line!

I can't imagine you going through and relining over and over until it's dark and neat enough. But it also might intentionally be this way for painting or blending?? 🤔 Maybe it's my pressure settings or something??? I'd appreciate your input a lot if you have time and if not no worries!! Thank you again for creating these brushes and the art help tag. Best wishes

hi there! yes, both the brushes have a little transparency to them by default for painterly reasons since i also use it for that. so yes, you're correct that the translucency is for painting and blending! but you can adjust this in a way that when you go here:

you can set minimum value of the pen pressure to 100 if you want it to be nearly solid! personally I like it at 70 for lineart :) you can keep a duplicate of the brush with higher value for lineart purposes so you don't have to adjust the settings every time ^^

most of the time though, when I'm lazy, I simply just duplicate the lineart layer and merge to make it more opaque. sometimes though, this makes the lines TOO crisp for my liking, so what I do is just lower the opacity on the duplicated line a little bit before merging. :)

of course you can also erase some parts of the duplicate if it's too harsh on some edges.

hope this helps! best of luck and thanks for using my brushes!

#asks #shippingbell #art help

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wildcardjoey · 3 months

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Anita jean!

ANITAT JEAN!!!

Alright so the Little Wren AU is basically just 'Bruce manages to find Anita after she fakes her death' and she actually does become his first sidekick. She isn't a fighter, Bruce puts her under three layers of armor, and she basically fills a mage and healer role with first aid (mostly for civilians and criminals) and the virtual reality gas drug, the use of which allows batman to remain a cryptid for far longer.

Anita also takes longer to get the hang of grappling hooks because she's less coordinated than even Tim but she does get them probably not too long after Dick comes to the manner since the two can train together. Her inability to use grappling hooks when she first enters the field is why The Whirly-Bat was made, named The Hummingbird in this au because it's Anita's and was named before Dick was adopted into the family and took a bat-gimmick to every piece of equipment in the cave. Before he joined the team, Bruce and Anita were work shopping names for a lot of their stuff but hadn't come to decisions for most of them, so Dick still gets to do that, but not for Anita's Hummingbird.

Rather than the dynamic duo, this au has either a tritastic trio of Batman, Wren, and Robin, or the dynamic duo is seen as Wren and Robin, as Batman's sidekicks. When Tim ends up at the manner, Anita basically tells him he's too tactical to be Robin and gives him the Wren mantle, which she either had already left behind or was in the process of considering it. Steph ends ends up becoming his paired Robin, for much longer than Canon.

Steph initiating that plan that required Matches Malone probably still happens, but with Anita's help she's able to salvage it, but it opens up an entirely new set of problems because at that point Anita was already on the verge of discovering The Court of Owls (because their one give away was a nursery rhyme and she wanted to find out it's origin because it's her hobby) and now The Court sees the bat clan take control of the city basically in it's entirety so those two things combined make The Court release the elite talons. A temporary alliance with The League of Assassins and the timely first arrival of Cass in the city means they just barely manage to win. This is also the family's first introduction to Damian and a recently resurrected Jason is probably also there, but dressed like the rest of the assassins so he isn't recognized.

Anita herself, which is what this au is actually about, is going to be depicted as better adjusted due to not living her life since she was, like, eight alone and eventually dedicated to revenge. She has hyperfixations on birds, nursery rhymes, programming, and tech and is an excellent detective. I already mentioned she's less coordinated starting out but that doesn't mean she's weak, she'd probably be able to beat Dick in a fight when he first gets to the manor since he's at that point just a gymnast but she's been training as a martial artist for like six months at that point.

Speaking of Dick, I really look forward to writing their banter. They are going to be so sassy to each other but very protective of each other. Almost as much as they're both protective of every one younger siblings, which, and seeing some of your posts this may be disappointing, isn't going to be terribly long. Finding a way to fit every obscure batfam character in is for my other dc au, the same one that my ruleset for Claire's powers is for, but I do have Calvin, Charlie, and and Dana (Talon, Misfit, and Strike) as sure-shows for Little Wren.

Long-Term, the au's story-arc will focus on the eventual take down of The Parliament of Owls as the main antagonists, as it feels fitting for an Anita Jean focused story for previously stated Nursery Rhyme related reasons, although I do also plan for The League to be taken down due to Tim still having his globetrotting adventure and then the batfam actually capitalizing on it.

Edit for Addendum: the first paragraph makes it sound like Anita never fights, I should clarify that her role on the team does evolve as she gets older and Bruce becomes more lenient.

#little wren au #dc #anita jean #batfam #idk if i should tag everyone else but #bruce wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #dana harlowe #calvin rose #charlotte gage radcliffe #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #the court of owls #the league of assassins

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sunsafewriting · 1 year

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favourable conditions - chapter 3 (4k)

chapter excerpt:

They take their seats, adjacent from one another. Ava radiates the entirely pleased air of one whose plan has been carried out perfectly.

"A sudden interest in navigation?" Beatrice says.

Ava beams, but makes a last feint at sincerity. "No need to sound so incredulous, Lieutenant. I’m very enthralled with maps. Drawn to them, even."

Ava’s not nearly as funny as she thinks she is, not when their last meeting was before a merciless sunrise: a dawn that broke and kept breaking, even when Beatrice could’ve begged for the horizon to haul it back, so that she might stay with Ava another moment.

They’d stood there beside one another, half-dressed, no longer touching but so near that touching was distractingly possible.

"I see."

"And I’ve been promised that you’re unrivalled as a navigator, which is why I requested you," Ava tells her. "Although as I understand it, you’re unrivalled in all areas."

Beatrice feels heat pass across the back of her neck — feels even more acutely the way Ava watches her. "I can only promise to teach you as best I can."

"I must confess then that I intend to be a terrible student."

Confess is hardly the word for it; Ava has nothing of confession in her, no shame or smallness. Instead, she leans forward, lets her gaze track over Beatrice as if she's already begun to study something.

"I am well aware of your cleverness, Miss Silva," Beatrice replies — almost capable now of adjusting to Ava's forwardness, although not yet capable of responding any less to it. "You will no doubt discover you have as much talent for cartography as you do for everything else."

Ava glows at the compliment. And, not one to permit Beatrice any offering without returning it tenfold, she lets her leg settle against Beatrice's under the table.

There are layers of skirts and trousers between them, so it's not really so terrible if Beatrice doesn't shift away.

"My cleverness has got you sitting next to me, has it not?" Ava counters. "I’d say then that I have no further use for it. The faster I learn, the sooner you leave."

Indeed, Ava can be exceedingly obtuse when she dedicates herself to it. She listens as Beatrice walks her through everything, asks insightful questions, nods along, and then insists it has all escaped her, and that they ought to circle back to this later.

It is also possible that Beatrice is not teaching as well as she might at the barracks; her attention catches on Ava’s furrowed brow, on how her shoulder brushes against Beatrice’s as she adjusts to better see the compass, on how Ava’s chair ends up nearer and nearer to Beatrice’s.

#look..#i admit this one took a turn #are we stretching the boundaries of the believable? yes #did anyone stop me? no #sunsafewriting #avatrice #ava x beatrice #avatrice fic #avatrice fanfic

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iviarelleblr · 1 month

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A case study in what may or may not be hyperfixation.

So, every once in a while, like many of us I'm sure, I get seized by an idea, and it will not let me go until I see it through. Today, that was a short series of jumps from problem to solution:

Bought a new tote bag I want to use often -> straps too short to put over my arm -> could make a new long shoulder strap out of fabric -> no matching fabric in mom's stash -> knitting and crochet are too stretchy to make good straps -> ...could I weave something?

So I started googling for stuff like "improvised loom" and discovered cardboard looms are totally a thing! But, I need something on which I can weave a single piece maybe 1.5 meters (~5 feet) long, and cardboard looms seem best set up for like, maybe 15-30 cm (6-12 inches) at most lest the loom bend and the warp threads be too loose and messy. But, in a scrap woodwork loom, there was a really funky heddle piece, and I saw it and said... wait, why couldn't I just have a piece that functions as both heddle and bobbin, to hold the extra length?

So I built myself a one-use cardboard loom. (Pictures taken before gluing, some adjustments were made in assembly like lining up the base pieces.)

Lots of slits in the base piece so I can adjust the warp threads if they're too close together initially or to move to one side or the other if the starting spot becomes unstable. The base will sit in a slot in my lap desk for stability. The bobbin piece will float in my lap or on the floor while I work a weft. It's almost more like a knotwork friendship bracelet setup than a traditional loom.

Will it be perfect? Heck no! But it will be recycling scraps of yarns I already have from old projects instead of throwing them out, and it will be handmade custom work as I learn an entirely new to me craft. Plus, the cardboard just has a little glue to hold the layers together, and can still be recycled if I don't want to hold onto it as proof I Learned A Thing.

It's not even the first time I've made a normally fancy craft tool out of cardboard. Well, last time it also involved a chopstick and a screw hook for picture wire, because I wanted to try spinning some roving I'd acquired too much of for thrummed mittens. And honestly? It might not have much weight, but a chopstick and round of cardboard made a drop spindle that worked just fine to spin up like 200 grams of wool roving. The more it spun, the more weight it had all on its own. I still have that spindle, though roving is pretty expensive to get my hands on these days and I don't have any intention of keeping up the spinning habit.

Make bad art, do it with whatever you have on hand, and wear and display it proudly because you learned something new and made the world a little bit weirder.

#crafts #crafting #fiber craft #fiber crafts #fiber crafting #weaving #looms #hand weaving #craft tools #craftblr #diy craft #arts and crafts #i'll totally try to remember to reblog this again when i start working on the weaving itself and when it's done #right now the glue is drying on the first part of assembly and then i glue two final pieces together to finish #so it might be a while but dangit i'm really excited about this one

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bizarrelittlemew · 7 months

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IDA do you have any advice or pointers for gif-making? yours are always so high quality with such great colors! i just started trying to make gifs and i feel like I'm constantly struggling with the export settings trying to make it look decent without being a gigantic file 😭

hiii and thank you so much 💗💗💗

I'm not really sure what to say since I've mostly learned by trial and error, so I guess the biggest piece of advice would be practice!!

I'm sure there are loads of gif tutorials out there and I may make my own one day but here are some tips I can give related to quality (I use Photoshop so these are probably specific to that):

The higher quality video you have to begin with, the easier it will be to make the gifs look great. I go for 1080p or higher (if possible)

When you import video frames to layers, be aware of duplicate frames as they will make the gif look choppy, it's a framerate issue - I use a very simple video editing software to cut out the scenes I want to gif, but if you have a more advanced one, you should be able to adjust the framerate so PS won't create duplicate frames. idk I'm not an expert on this exact thing I just delete the duplicates manually

For tumblr posts, the full width is 540px, half is 268px, go for these to avoid tumblr compressing the gifs

I usually set the frame time delay between 0.06-0.09 seconds since always prefer them a bit slower, which allows for seeing more detail. I check the speed by going into File -> Export -> Save for Web (Legacy) and clicking the Preview, because just playing the gif in PS will usually have lag

After wrangling frames, cropping and resizing etc., I convert to video timeline and convert all the frames to one Smart Object before sharpening and coloring. I use Smart Sharpen and Gaussian Blur filters with different settings, making copies of the smart layer and playing around with the opacity settings (I have this process recorded/automated as an action, but often have to adjust afterwards based on the clip). There are many different ways to do this and probably some tutorials too.

As for coloring, I don't use any automated processes, but just play around with adjustment and color fill layers. A gif with my usual sharpening and relatively simple coloring may have layers looking like this:

I think this is where the practice mostly comes in, because you'll discover new things with every gif you make. it's also the most fun part for me :) again, there are a lot of tutorials out there, and some scenes require more adjustments than others (especially dark scenes). really, Selective Color and Curves may be the most important adjustment layers (to me at least lmao)

As for file size, these are my usual export settings:

reducing the number of colors will always reduce the file size, but I'd usually rather trim the length (or split it into two gifs) or the image size (cropping a bit more off the height). Going for 40-80 frames is usually reasonable, and you can do more for very static gifs or smaller image sizes!

I hope some of this is useful, good luck and happy giffing 💗💗💗

#asks #zstraps #ok this got a bit long but I hope you can use some of it!!#giffing #gif making

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antoniosvivaldi · 5 months

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A YEAR IN REVIEW: CREATIONS OF 2023

Post your favourite and most popular post from each month in 2023.

I was tagged by @madeline-kahn & @bazkrekkers 💖

A short summary on 2023 as a content creator: This was one of my most prolific & fruitful years in terms of content creating since I've started using Tumblr in 2014 - both artistically and quantitatively. I look forward to what my creative muse will bring to me the coming year 🤩

January

Most popular: The Little Mermaid gifset — A relatively quick set that came together after experimenting with a handful of mermaid / aquatic themed Photoshop freebies that I've got!

Favourite: 2023 releases compilation gifset — Assembling this gifset made me realise how many anticipated media releases were coming out in 2023 & I've also discovered quite a few new musical artists to listen in the giffing process.

February

I've subscribed to Adobe Creative Cloud subscription & got my "bad boy" Max aka the trusty M2 Mac that I now primarily gif on! It's a night and day difference, what used to take a few days can be done within a single giffing session 🤩

Most Popular: Taylor Swift Lavender Haze gifset — My first gifset that I've giffed on Max and also my first attempt incorporating Neural Filters in my giffing workflow!

Favourite: Bridgerton characters + Certainly Not A Bot Description gifset — A highly entertaining gifset to assemble and I certainly had a lot of laughs while making this 😂

March

Most Popular: Rotoscoping Tutorial — I've finished my long overdue Rotoscoping Tutorial in March and it's the most popular post that I've made in 2023

Favourite: Assorted Female Musicians + Tropes gifset / playlists — I listen to music diversely and thought it would be fun to share a playlist set of the musical artists that I've discovered / listen to! This edit idea went through quite a few iterations and was very happy that it gets to see the light of the day!

April

Most Popular: Fantasia 1940 + animals gifset — Made under a bit of time crunch but enjoyed giffing a childhood favourite & playing around with Neural Filters!

Favourite: Taylor Swift + Four Seasons gifset — A remake of this gifset and inspired by my URL! Taylor Swift ft. Landscape Mixer Filter & Fantasia scenes that reminds me of the four seasons 🌸🌞🍁❄️

May

Most Popular: Olivia Rodrigo Sour anniversary gifset — May 2023 was a challenging giffing month for me, but making purple sets like this kept me going

Favourite: Kathony x Kanej gifset — A gifset to showcase two of my favourite fictional relationships (and I love that there are thematic similarities) 💜

June

Most Popular: Heartstopper characters rainbow gifset — One of the most wholesome shows that I've watched 🥺

Favourite: Gracie Abrams Good Riddance gifset — Originally, I was going to make a B&W Gracie Abrams gifset but ended up with something more colourful & something that I'm much happier with! A lot of videos Gracie Abrams released this year were in B&W / had horrific lightings, but I got around with the Colourise & Photo Enhancement Neural Filters ft. adjustment layers!

July

I took a break using Max this month and giffed on my Intel-based Macs from 2012 and 2015. This is to better gauge the performance required to comfortably run Photoshop's Neural Filters & to try out other Photoshop filters e.g. Adobe Camera Raw Filter.

Most Popular: Speak Now (Taylor's Version) gifset — A relatively quick purple gifset that I've made right before Speak Now (Taylor's Version) came out!

Favourite: Watch (Maisie Peters) x Sour (Olivia Rodrigo) gifset — Watch is one of the few songs that I've enjoyed back when standard version of The Good Witch came out and it struck me as a very Sour-coded song to me (and also something that's very neon pink & blue to me).

August

Most Popular: 1989 (Taylor's Version) gifset — Was very excited that Taylor announced that she's releasing the re-recorded version of 1989 💙

Favourite: Adaptations grand compilation gifset — I love making grand compilation sets! It's a fun way to showcase the things that I enjoy & do things as creatively as possible! In this set, I had a lot of fun experimenting with transition effects, as well as 3D text!

September

Most Popular: Olivia Rodrigo Guts gifset — I think Olivia Rodrigo's discography is very purple-coded to me and Guts is no exception 💜

Favourite: Maisie Peters YSUFT x Taylor Swift parallels gifset — A gifset idea that I held close to my heart for a while. Took quite some time to iron out the overall layout & it's one of the sets I've made on my Intel-based Mac to test Neural Filters performance, but I'm really happy with the pastel colour scheme produced from the Colour Transfer Neural Filter!

October

Most Popular: A more elaborate 1989 (Taylor's Version) gifset — This is very much a crunch time gifset that quickly came together 💙

Favourite: Kathony x BSC (Maisie Peters) gifset — The lyrics of BSC reminds me of Kathony. Then I came across a fun colour palette (that's a mix of purple & orange) and experimented with some fonts + organic shapes that I've recently installed. As always, the typography took a lot of time to grind out but had a lot of fun assembling the set & experimenting with the animated texts!

November

Max's sidekick aka Bailey (an M3-based Mac) arrived in late November & I've installed Topaz Labs plugins (very helpful for enhancing screencaps)

Most Popular: Taylor Swift Fearless anniversary gifset — Happy anniversary to Fearless 💛

Favourite: The Comfort Zone: The Joyful Issue + playlist + uquiz — I really enjoyed the creative process for this: I've learnt how to make 3D animations from scratch & had a lot of fun putting together the companion playlist + uquiz!

As an aside, the rendering process was so resource intensive that the workload was bifurcated between two computers, to ensure I was able to finish the set within the submission window.

December

This is one of my most inspired & prolific time in giffing since a while and I'm grateful that I'm able to wrap up my 2023 on a high note!

Most Popular: A Charlie Brown Christmas gifset — I've downloaded quite a lot of Christmas / holidays themed Photoshop resources in December and thought it would be fun to play around with those in a Christmas gifset! This Peanuts gifset is the end result 🎅

Favourite: Maisie Peters The Good Witch gifset — One of the biggest challenges giffing Maisie Peters is that most of the videos came from Youtube. I've got around experimenting with Topaz Labs (in addition to the usual Neural Filters) to enhance the gifs and have been very happy with the result!

As of the creative process of the set: I associate The Good Witch with blue & orange, played around with transparency in gif panels, and applied Neural Filters to bring out artistic effects for the component gifs.

Tagging (absolutely no pressure): @rogerhealey, @silversmists, @tayloralison, @laurabenanti, @fawad-khan, @goldrushkid, @cobbbvanth, @swearphil, @breakbleheavens, @imkindatheman, @miss-lauryn-hill , @muldery , @crushcrushcrushs , @matlillard , @deweyduck + anyone who wants to do this 💖

#tagging game #abt #txt

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ellieinbg · 5 months

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Making a folk skirt for my cold legs

Back in the before times—which I guess for most people means before COVID-19, but for me means before chronic illness smashed my world to bits—I used to do a lot of couture-style sewing. I have sewen entire historical ensembles. I sewed my own wedding dress. I thread traced and pad stitched and flat-lined. I was in love with the idea of fashion and wanted to engage with it on a sophisticated level. The problem was I didn't like anything I made.

Not only do I have a hard-to-fit body, but I have an electrolyte disorder that fucks up my hormones and makes my body size fluctuate like wild. When I could get things to fit well, they inevitably didn't fit well a month later. And the things I made were either too costumey for me to wear or too boring for me to enjoy. The sheer amount of money, and effort it took to create a garment I didn't like or could not wear destroyed my interest in sewing. I took a break for many years, though as sick as I was I could not have sewn even if I had wanted to. In the past few years, I have had the opportunity to live in Bulgaria for a few months at a time, here and there, slowly soaking up the culture. There I discovered my passion for Slavic folk attire. I have had the opportunity to view some amazing pieces up close at museums and festivals and to see countless up-close photos on Bulgarian buy/sell websites. Something that slowly wormed its way into my brain as I spent time appreciating these garments is how wonderfully flawed they are. I don't mean that they are not skillfully created. They, of course, vary from roughly made amateur attempts to some of the most amazing textile work I have ever seen. What they lack is the rigid rules of couture. The stuffy conventions that define high fashion are conspicuously and freeingly missing from these garments. They are not fitted but instead tied and belted into shape. Trimmings can be added ad-hoc with little coordination as old ones are replaced or new fancier ones can be obtained. Tunics, vests, skirts, and aprons are mostly stand-alone things and not part of a coordinated ensemble. Each item is beautiful and meaningful but modular. And most of all they tend to be extremely size adjustable. Not custom fit for one single body, but designed for any body that garment might be handed down to. Cue this winter, when I was once again looking with dread at the pants in my closet, knowing the things that fit were not warm enough for winter and dreading another round of buying things. There is a growing online trend for sewing historic-inspired adjustable clothing and I knew what I needed was an adjustable over skirt for going out. It needed to be long, warm, and easy to throw on over whatever I was wearing in the house. I wanted something that visually paid homage to the Slavic folk wear I love but their tie-on construction method wasn't going to work. Traditionally these skits had a long slit from the waistband down and tied shut. The ties let the skirt adjust to your size but the front would gap and was not very modest. This is why many historic European costumes include an apron. When wearing skirts of this type the apron covered this slit and provided complete modestly. Also, you have to either step into or drop these skirts over your head which wasn't what I wanted. While pondering how I wanted to make this I stumbled upon a video from "Sewing Therapy" about reversible hanbok skirt construction. The Hanbok is a traditional garment in Korea and like much traditional clothing, a very simple design made mostly of rectangles. As I understand it, and my understanding is poor, the skirt variant is a relatively modern creation. It has a waistband, two ties, and a large pleated panel. Importantly for me, the hanbok is made on the straight grain and not gored, or cut on the circle, just like Slavic folk skirts. They are very size adjustable and can be layered over any under clothes easily making them the perfect outer layer for winter.

I do not in any way claim that what I made in the end is a traditional hanbok. Pleated skirts with a waistband are a pretty pan-cultural idea and are frequently used in the construction of traditional European skirts as well, but the idea of making a pleated panel into a wrap skirt is something I first saw with this hanbok video and I wanted to make a point to give credit to Sara its creator. I hit up my local thrift store for cotton sheets for this experiment and lucked out on this burgundy and cream pair. The burgundy side I hit up with black fabric spray paint and whip-stitched a burgundy ribbon from my stash. For the cream side, I dip-dyed it with procion dyes. I added a simple pocket bag on one side and then stamped it with my possum skull block from my trash coat project. I made a point just to get this made and not to care about seams matching or thread color. I just wanted to have fun sewing again. And ya know what? It is imperfect and weird and works amazing to keep my legs warm and I LOVE IT. I wear this skirt constantly. I love it so much I have started on my second version, this time with some vintage 90s dino sheets.

#upcycle #folk punk #avant garde fashion #goblincore #folk core #folk clothing #historybounding

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ambercoloredfox · 1 year

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Crown of Curses

Summary: A thief steals something more than a jewel to find that the curse she bears runs deep as the blood in her veins.

Pairing: Morpheus x f!Reader/OC

Rating: Teen. Maybe Mature for cursing (ha).

Notes: Content warning for choking, mentions of murder, crime scene photos. Nothing too graphic.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

"Regression to the mean." My mouth formed the words without me meaning to.

The blade dropped again, halting nearly within arms reach. I whimpered.

"Yes, exactly." The man said, nearly sounding proud. "The universe always has ways of trying to, ah, correct it's mistakes. You are here to do the correcting."

"Correcting?" I echoed. "Correcting what?"

Another foot. The point hovered directly above my heart.

"Your ancestor's mistakes."

"Yer cursed."

I tore my eyes away from the fence to glance at the man who had spoken, barely visible from his shadowed alley. His clothes were expectedly torn and filthy, layered rags to vainly fight against the growing New England chill. Eyes glossy and unfocused, he brought a bottle to his dry and cracked lips before continuing.

"Ye'll never know peace. Yer cursed."

"Yeah," I muttered, "Heard you the first time."

Adjusting the strap of my pack, I reached into my pocket for a few bills I could spare. I was used to this by now. At least he wasn't screaming at me to leave.

Why was it only those lost in their misfortunes could spot my curse? It had certainly made growing up on the streets as a teen difficult.

I handed him a wad of twenties and he was good enough to take them with a nod and a quick lift of his bottle, like some half hearted cheer. If I asked him what he meant by cursed, I knew I wouldn't receive an answer. The only answer I had ever gotten from those like him was that they just knew.

On some level I did too. I could feel it in my bones.

It didn't matter. All that mattered now was getting answers. Answers that were just beyond this fence.

I followed the barrier until I found a spot where the buildings surrounding it had the least windows, where the absent street lights threw the area in comforting shadows. Setting down the pack, I quietly pulled out the bolt cutters and got to work removing a portion of the fence.

In short work I had a hole big enough for my small form to slide through. Gathering my pack, I slipped inside.

Soft footsteps in harsh snow. Heel to toe. Heel to toe. The scarf wrapped around my face did more than hide my appearance, it also contained the fog of my breath. Here I was in my element. Here I didn't exist.

I was merely a shadow in the night.

The cameras were old and out dated, I discovered at a glance. Likely only filming in black and white. Stick to the dark and my presence might never be felt at all.

The closest container to me read #35. I pulled the folded note from my jacket pocket. It had been surprisingly easy to figure out which storage container was his. The receptionist had been very susceptible to social engineering.

I needed #63. Finding which way the numbers increased, I kept my body low and my movements precise. It didn't help the growing pit in my stomach.

The storage container was across the path, lit up in the most unhelpful way. The only options were to be spotted by the security cameras or retrace my steps and find a different part of the fence to breach.

Or.

Be creative. I could do that. With a hop and a groan, I was up on top of the closest container, sliding along the gathered snow on my belly until once more out of sight. I jumped across the point where the containers angled together, then landed right in front of my target.

A decade spent as a burglar was really paying off.

Finding my lockpick set in my bag, I made quick work of the 'master' lock and opened the large doors as silently as I could. Just enough to slip inside.

It was dark as hell. I fumbled for my flashlight, accidentally knocking my lockpick set out of the bag. There was a hollow metal echo as they clanged to the floor. I froze.

Fucking curse.

After counting to thirty and hearing no noise, I clicked on the flashlight.

"Goddamn it."

The storage was floor to ceiling with junk. I wasn't even sure what I was looking for-- how was I supposed to find it before the morning? Frustrated, I rearranged my pack as I thought of a plan.

My answer to whatever the hell cursed me was here. I knew it was. But just looking through boxes wasn't going to help. And it certainly wouldn't help to stumble upon something I didn't want to see.

Like pictures.

Hazy memories gripped me unbidden, and I fought back the images of a face I didn't want to remember. I waited for my breathing to even out again before moving. There had to be something I overlooked.

A folder was tugged from the confines of my pack, it's edges crinkled with wear and use. I hardly blinked at the photos of the corpses that greeted me. This puzzle had been with me for so long that I saw the victims every night in my dreams. Yet the question always remained.

Why?

Only one report didn't have a picture and was good enough to leave my dreams untarnished. Younger me had thought it had been a weakness. Now I knew better.

It would've been terrible to have the only picture, the only image I could remember of my mother, be her mutilated corpse.

I glanced once more at the boxes lining the walls. Did I dare? Would it be worth it?

No. The fear of seeing his picture, of remembering what he looked like instead of my mother, was too much to bear. This was his storage after all. All of his things.

Much more like I'd find pictures of my father rather than my mother.

The bastard didn't deserve to have his face remembered.

I flicked through the crime scene reports that I had memorized long ago, searching for some clue I might have missed. The whole event was strange. Looking too closely, none of it made sense. The facts were obvious. The facts showed my father had gone on a murder spree. He had admitted as much.

A murder spree, where every killing blow was made by someone other than him.

Cursed.

It was as I read through my father's screaming ramblings the night he had been arrested, that it happened. 'My ruby-!' the page read.

The room filled with a faint red glow. I nearly dropped my flashlight in shock. With a click I washed my self in darkness.

Red light was coming from the cracks of a crate on the far back wall. Cautiously, I approached and pulled it from it's long forgotten place.

Inside was a large rectangular ruby, adorned in gold. It glowed with an unnatural light. I reached, but hesitated before my fingertips touched the gem.

This, this was the reason I was cursed. I was sure of it.

Pulling my sleeve over my hand, I made sure not to touch the cursed object with bare skin. With the gem tucked safely in a spare pocket of my pack, I returned the crate and slipped back into the night.

I leaned over the motel room desk, staring at the scarlet facets that mocked me. For so long I had wished I had some answer...

But now I found it, it only brought more questions.

The alcohol burned all the way to my nostrils as I took another harsh swig. It hadn't glowed again. I didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad.

I had it now. This cursed ruby that had taken everything away from me. And now that I had it...

I had no idea what to do with it.

What the fuck did I know about curses and magic? I was a goddamn thief.

Of course I had one idea on what to do. The one thing I really really didn't want to do.

Don't be a coward, I chastised myself with a sigh.

My hands shook slightly as I raised them, causing me to pause and stare.

"Fuck it."

I pinched my eyes shut and pressed my fingers to the ruby.

Nothing happened.

I opened a single eye. The damn thing wasn't even glowing. I let out the air I had been hoarding in one quick whoosh.

"How anticlimactic." I muttered, taking another drink.

The first light of the morning was forcing it's way through the shut blinds, becoming impossible to ignore. Double checking the door was locked, I finished my drink and flopped down on the bed.

Emotional exhaustion had me slipping consciousness before I could even get my shoes off.

The gentle lapping of calm waters greeted me. It was harshly contrasted by the oppressive darkness that met my eyes. Black water mirrored the void above. The dark rotting wood beneath my feet groaned in protest under my weight.

My reflection in the water stared expectantly back at me. I didn't know what it wanted.

Looking behind me I could see the old dock stretching infinitely in one direction. I saw no sign of shore. With a final glance at my reflection, I started walking in the only direction I could.

The landscape never changed, no matter how long I walked. Black water. Black sky. Dead wood under my boots. Occasionally I caught my own gaze in the water.

I still didn't know what it wanted.

After some time, I began to tire. I was getting nowhere. It was useless. My mouth was dry.

I looked at the water again, unsure of what to do. But there I found my answer. By my feet, in my reflection, was a small clay goblet. My eyes found it where the mirror image had promised it would be.

Crouching down, I examined it. Immediately, my mind made a strange, unwarranted connection, as often happens in dreams. My mind, for some reason, decided this must be the holy grail.

Now, whether this inky water was safe to drink seemed not to matter. Hadn't I read somewhere that the holy grail could make all water pure?

I dipped the goblet into the water and began to quinch my thirst. The water was unlike anything I had ever tasted. In fact, I wasn't sure I had actually tasted anything. I heard songs, saw images, felt things. The word synaesthesia comes to mind.

And yet it felt so good.

It was filling some craving, some hole in me I hadn't even known existed. I drank until my soul ran over and the water spilled out my eyes and down my cheeks. Until it became too much to bear and I knew I could drink no longer.

That knowledge didn't stop me.

My hand shook as I filled one more cup. And then one more. Voices screamed in my head. My eyes watched me from the water, my reflection frozen and tilting it's head.

The only thing that stopped me was the goblet tumbling from my trembling grasp. I watched in shock as it disappeared into the dark depths, my chest heaving. I clutched my head in my hands and tried to stop the tears.

I felt too much. I felt not enough.

My head hurt.

When I finally composed myself, I found the shore was only a short distance away. Had it always been that close? Or had it only revealed itself after I drank the darkness?

Shaking my head, I got to my feet and followed the only path I was given.

A great ornately carved gate blocked the way. It was impossibly tall, nearly disappearing into the clouds. The carvings seemed to move the longer I stared. I was sure they told a story, like the carvings you could find in temples. What the story was, I had no idea.

I didn't have to try to pry them open. The gates opened as soon as I decided I wanted to enter.

Black sand became grey mud. The landscape was brighter, but bleaker, marked only by it's barren nature. It was eerily quiet, not even the wind was good enough to howl to give the place life. It was like the land itself was holding it's breath-- like it was between breaths. My feet kept me moving onward.

When the twisting path had me rounding the corner, my heart caught in my throat. A palace. Or a castle? An impossible structure made of care and beauty.

It was crumbling.

The world itself was crying out in anguish as this, the only landmark in this barren place, was rotting. I could feel it. The last living thing here, slowly succumbing to the frostbite of time.

My feet felt disconnected from my body. I carried on towards it in a daze. Three mythical creatures carved from stone glared down at me as I approached, the life long gone from their eyes. A piece of the griffin's wing fell as I stared at it. I placed my hand upon it, my eyes closing if their own volition.

Confusion. Despair. Resignation. Decay.

I choked on the emotions that bubbled up in me, tasting them in the back of my throat. My hands wiped away tears that were not my own. Had these statues been alive?

The atmosphere was suffocating. I didn't know what I had to do, but I had to do something.

Inside was nearly as bad as outside. Everything was decrepit, a terrible place haunted by the memories of what had once been. I could taste the sorrow on the dust coating my tongue. Something was wrong here. Something was so terribly wrong.

One hallway melted into the next. I didn't know where I was going, the building itself seeming to draw me into the heart of it. For a brief moment I knew I would keep moving if I tried to be still. I had gone past the event horizon and space was twisting upon itself to move me forward.

A set of double doors swung open, moving with the energy of an eager mouth ready for it's next meal. Past the threshold, my feet finally stopped. The room inside was impossibly quiet, like a hospital church.

Dust swirled in the air, lit from three elaborate stained glass windows in the back of the room. The glass was cracked and broken, pieces of the windows littering the ground and crunching under my boots as I stepped. A chill ran up my spine.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

It sounded like funeral bells.

A stairway stretched high in the air, reaching towards the heavens. The bright light from the windows made it impossible to see what was at the top. I hesitated.

Go on, a mad voice deep within me demanded. A strange little impulse. Go on. Go on go on go on.

I set my foot on the first step, straining my eyes to see. Something black was at the top. Some dark shape.

Go on go on go on go on go on go on go on.

I took another step. Then another. It was impossibly high up. The stone steps were ancient and crumbling.

GO ON GO ON GO ON GO ON GO ON.

Three steps from the top my eyes adjusted to the light. The shape was a pale white seat, carved from marble like stone. The back of the seat was unusually high, like some sort of...

Throne.

My vision twisted, the world lurched, the ground tried to come up to meet me. With a cry, I fell to my knees and scrambled up to the even surface, away from the crumbling stairs. I glanced behind me. Nothing moved. All was well.

I took a few shaky breaths, then looked back at the throne. It seemed to fill my entire vision, my entire mind. Slowly, I got to my feet again.

GO ON GO ON GO ON GO ON GO ON GO ON.

Adrenaline spiked up my spinal chord, making my limbs feel numb. I stood in front of the throne and froze. Anxiety gripped my throat like two clamped fists, squeezing until marks would surely be left on my skin. Tears prickled in the corners of my eyes.

I knew what I had to do. I knew what this voice in the back of my head demanded. But something was stopping me.

Why me?

I didn't want this. There had to be some other way. I turned back around and found I could no longer see the floor. The stairs stretched on forever downward.

The stone beneath my feet twisted again and I stumbled, reaching back to hold on to the throne for support. It was so far down. Dizziness gripped my head.

I didn't have a choice.

GO. ON.

I was going to fall.

NO. YOU'RE GOING TO--

"--fly."

Hands grabbed my shoulders, pulling me forcefully backwards. Sitting me upon the throne like a horrid coronation.

I tried my damnedest to fight, but it was useless. The hands felt like facts, no matter how much I denied them, they held me still. The carved armrests sprang to life under my fighting grip, thin white bindings crawling like ivy over my skin. It held me fast to the throne.

The hands let go once I was secure, finding grip in my hair and forcing me to look up. I cried out it panic, kicking uselessly at the stone.

How had I not seen it on the way up?

Suspended in the air above the throne was a sword with a ruby red blade. It gleamed dangerously in the low light, it's point aimed straight for me.

The sword of Damocles.

"No. No, no, no, no, please." I cried.

A voice shushed me, a hand patting my hair. "It's quite alright. No need to be frightened, really."

He sounded like the only voice that had ever existed. Like the voice in the back of my head, only older. As if the voice in my head was only a poor mimic of what he was.

The sword dropped half a foot and I choked on a scream.

"Really now. There's no need for that." The man behind me chided. "Don't you know why you're here?"

My lips quivered, hot tears spilling from my eyes.

"I'm cursed."

Again the sword inched closer, catching itself before it came down completely.

The bastard had the audacity to chuckle.

"I suppose. From a certain point of view. Though one could argue a curse and a blessing are two sides of the same coin."

A blessing? What in the ever loving fuck was blessed about this? My eyes never left the blade.

"No, no. You see," The man continued, "Are you familiar with statistics?"

I said nothing, but my mind clearly remembered the books I had devoured on the many days I found myself practically living in the public library.

"When the extreme of a variable is found in a sample, the second sample is more likely to return to the average of the population, you see."

"Regression to the mean." My mouth formed the words without me meaning to.

The blade dropped again, halting nearly within arms reach. I whimpered.

"Yes, exactly." The man said, nearly sounding proud. "The universe always has ways of trying to, ah, correct it's mistakes. You are here to do the correcting."

"Correcting?" I echoed. "Correcting what?"

Another foot. The point hovered directly above my heart.

"Your ancestor's mistakes."

"But I didn't... I didn't do anything!" I sobbed.

He patted my head again.

"Oh dear, I know. The blood running through your veins was spilled in an ancient rite, upsetting the balance of the universe. Unfortunately old magic and even older laws have bound your fate. We of the First Circle have no choice but to ensure... well, regression to the mean, as you say."

With that, the sword fell, plunging it's red blade into my chest. The hum of the sword pulsed through my veins with every heartbeat. I let out a shocked wheeze.

It felt like fire. It felt like ice. It felt like electricity. It felt like a storm. It felt like a whisper. It felt like a roar. It felt like stories untold.

It all melted into me.

His hands found my shoulders once more.

"But do remember what I said. A blessing and a curse can be one in the same. It's all a matter of, ah, perspective."

My vision filled with a flash of blinding red light.

I startled awake, blinking away dots in my vision as if someone had just taken a picture of me with the flash on. Gulping down lung fulls of air, I was never more glad to see a shitty motel room.

It was just a dream. Just a fucked up dream.

Letting out a disbelieving laugh, I wiped the tears that had been running down my face. My phone told me I still had a few hours before I had to check out. Enough time to shower and check my messages. I did the latter first, not wanting to give my mind time to dwell.

It seemed like I had been missed in Brooklyn. I had three potential clients asking for me and Giovanetti left a message inviting me to dinner at a restaurant that didn't exist. Meaning the Boss had a job for me.

At least I wasn't about to go hungry from my little vacation.

Pulling out my laptop, I wrote to the clients asking for details before pondering what job the mob would want me to do this time. Surprisingly, they weren't too bad to work with, if you had firm boundaries. I was a thief, an agent for hire, nothing more. I had no loyalties. If they didn't like that, I could disappear and they'd never get my expertise again.

Turns out they appreciated the honesty of our arrangement just fine. I had been working with them for a few years now with little problem. Didn't mean I would let my guard down.

I turned on the shower and watched as the water heated. Maybe they had taken my advice about the insurance scam that would be easy money. Announcing my intention to steal a piece of fine art after already stealing it-- best idea I'd ever had, and it had already worked three times.

They only had to was invest in some extra sham security after the announcement and then act surprised when it was gone. All while selling the piece themselves on the black market.

Easy money. And the only people it hurt were some insurance executive assholes.

What was it the media had started calling me? The Unicorn? Because they didn't believe I existed.

Amazing.

These thoughts had plastered themselves over the unease carried into my waking hours like pleasant wallpaper over an ugly paint job. I had nearly forgotten the strange dream as I began to pull off my clothes to shower.

It all came rushing back as I took off my shirt and something cold hit my chest. Right above my heart.

I didn't dare look down. Like a coward, I turned slowly towards the mirror.

Blood red. Over my heart.

Impossible.

Not giving a damn that I was still naked, I rushed out of the bathroom to the small desk.

It was empty. The ruby was gone.

I still didn't want to look down. I went back to the mirror. The sound of the shower was an echo of my mind. Drowning white static.

The ruby necklace lay hanging around my neck. I didn't put it on. I wouldn't have.

Surely I was losing my mind?

I touched the golden chain, unable to face the red gem. Hadn't the chain been longer? Or had that been my imagination?

I was losing my mind. Just like my father had.

Panic clawed it's way up my back like a startled cat. I twisted in fear, fingers fumbling to find the clasp. Only one thing ran through my mind as my fingers flew.

Get it off. Off off off.

There was no clasp. A strangled sound escaped my throat. My vision narrowed so I could only see the cursed ruby in the mirror. Terror thrummed through my blood like war drums.

GET IT OFF.

I clenched my fist around the gem and tugged with all my might.

The ruby tugged back.

Red light flared to life. Gold constricted around my throat, getting tighter the more I struggled.

Panic held me tighter than the curse ever could.

I clawed at my throat and fought the chain, leaving deep red scratches that mimicked the infernal light. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't scream. My vision blurred, then darkened.

Only when I slumped over the counter, nearly passed out from my efforts, did the punishment finally stop. My hands and forearms pressed into the cool linoleum as my body fought to regain oxygen. I raised my head and met my own dark eyes in the mirror. Red glimmered just beneath my vision.

I was fucking cursed.

#the sandman #dream of the endless #dream x oc #dream x y/n #dream x reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus x oc #sandman fanfiction #the whole 'go on' sequence reminded me of that one doctor who episode #you know. with the devil #i really like writing dream sequences #now with editing!

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