#but it's on their nature to be ambiguous ig

[chillingxy]

I feel normal about them

[d-dormant]

and when i say diaval becomes a man when maleficent loses her magic both times in m:moe because he is a man more than a bird in essence now

we aren't talking about "i thought you liked being a bird" "not as much as i used to" enough

[imnotshua]

joke me something awful - jww

٠࣪⭑ pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem reader ٠࣪⭑ summary: it's 2002 and you ask wonwoo to take you home. later, he wonders why you haven't been doing this the whole time. ٠࣪⭑ genre: childhood friends to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, college au ٠࣪⭑ rating: explicit. minors do not interact with me, i'll block you. ٠࣪⭑ warnings: swearing, drinking, undefined relationships. not really a situationship tho, it’s very much mutual pining. reader and wonwoo are just stupid regular people who say and do stupid things, it is intentional, please love them anyway. wonwoo is down bad i'm so sorry friends, he is just!!!!!! occasional use of pet names (baby & angel from wonwoo. darling/sweetheart from others), no use of y/n or other variations, porn with plot mostly, ambiguous ending (sorry my beloveds). wonwoo could do with some more confidence ig. a bitter ex (oc) is mentioned and important for the plot! mentions of previous hook ups between wonwoo and reader. toxicity from the ex, but i don’t particularly think reader and wonu are! they just :(((((( feel free to correct me tho. ٠࣪⭑ smut contents: gendered terms, kisses, fingering (pussy + mouths), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (it's 2002 college students were stupid then ok), dry humping lmao, cum eating, wonwoo on top, cum in pants, sloppy kinda, wet patches <3, soooo much hand holding, morning sex, neediness <333333, all in all they are quite soft and disgustingly into each other. if you think i've forgotten anything please let me know so i can fix my post! ٠࣪⭑ wc: 5.4k - complete ٠࣪⭑ a/n: i listened to fob's from under the cork tree on repeat for like 2 weeks straight and needed to do something with the feelings in my chest. this universe started in a different work that i'll post another time, this is the before. it is complete on its own, can be read without the others, but please note that future fics for this couple will be non-linear and feature different stages of their lives. the title comes from Fall Out Boys I've Got A Dark Alley–. Please consider listening to Air - Yeji, it's the feeling this couple gives me. ٠࣪⭑ thank yous: to my loves, @100vern and @starlightkyeom– thank you for putting up with my screaming over wonwoo, thank u for reading this over and telling me it wasn't gross. to jewel again, thank you for the banner. i appreciate u both so much. to everyone else, thank you for coming to my little corner, i hope you enjoy this one.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

2002

Wonwoo didn’t apply for the fellowship program, despite all your insistence that if you got in he’d be sure to, that he’s smarter than you’ll ever be. At the time he said it felt like too much work, but later he realised he couldn’t take the fear of rejection. This would’ve just been another failed start. Deep down he wondered if he’d even deserve it.

The celebratory dinner for new scholars is supposedly an elitist, snobby, and frankly, horrid affair so naturally you’re going. If only to foster those connections you’re making for your future career. Wonwoo turns his nose up but he agrees to be your date nonetheless. You don’t have to beg, just ask the question and say he wouldn’t embarrass you like the man you’ve been dating for four months, and that fills him with some strange sense of achievement. 

Of course, once that guy hears you’re taking Wonwoo instead of him, he dumps you without ceremony. And now Wonwoo sits on your bed in a rented suit far too expensive for him to feel entirely comfortable in, watching your reflection choose which earrings to wear, and he wonders if you’re even bothered. He doesn’t know how to talk to you about this. Partners are off limits, usually, but since he had some involvement in the break up, in some roundabout way, he thinks maybe he should at least check. He wets his lips.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. “Since Hongseok?”

You meet his eyes in the mirror. “Fine,” you say. “I don’t think it was going anywhere. He wanted something more traditional. I started to get the impression he was setting up to cheat on me, actually.”

Wonwoo is unsurprised, sounds like you are too. “You’re better off without him,” he says, picking at bits of fluff from your blanket clinging to his trousers. It’s one his mother knitted for your sixteenth birthday. “You’ll meet someone new in no time.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” you start. “I think I’ll stay single for a while.” 

Wonwoo lifts his eyebrows in surprise and you catch him in the mirror. With a laugh you say, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You’ve been a serial dater since we moved to this city and you’re stopping now?” Wonwoo’s lips twist into a grin. Teasing is easier than edging too close to real. “Just when you’ve hit your prime?”

You scoff. “Rude. I’ll hit my prime in my thirties. Just watch.”

Wonwoo watches as you apply your usual lipstick and thinks about the time you didn’t wear any. You were just kids but it didn’t seem so long ago. You’re almost the same. Eighteen years of your starkly different lives intertwined and somehow still as close as you ever were. Still the sharpest person he’s ever known, still the sweetest if only in private. Still his parents' favourite person, still his. (His stomach twists). 

You’re giving yourself a final appraisal in the mirror before turning to Wonwoo and asking how you look. 

“Good,” he says, with a nod. Breathtaking, really. “Pretty.” 

“Thanks,” you say, smiling relieved, moving to sit next to him on the bed and linking his arm. “We scrub up well, don’t we?”

“Mm,” he agrees, following your gaze into the mirror, pinpricks creeping over his skin. You look like you’re together, he thinks, as he notices you’ve chosen earrings that go with his tie. Anyone could make that assumption. 

“You look sad, Wonwoo,” you say, quiet and soft. “Are you sad?”

“No,” he says, throat tight and feeling like his back is pressed against the wall. “What would I have to be sad about?” He lets you slip your hand into his, lets you lean your head on his shoulder for a moment, because this is how you make him feel better. Because you know that he can’t be pushed to talk about things he hardly understands. Barely a minute goes by before he sucks in a breath and says, “Shall I call us a taxi?” 

“Sure, number’s in the book next to the telephone,” you say. “Want a drink? I need one for this.”

“Water for me, someone’s got to get you home.”

“Aw, come on. Don’t make me drink alone.” You laugh when Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “I’ll be on my best behaviour, I promise. My reputation’s on the line.”

“One beer,” he offers. You pout and he can’t stop his smile.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It went like this:

Both of you had no less than three drinks before the taxi showed up.

Your peers kept thinking that he was your “elusive boyfriend” and upon correction that he was ‘just Wonwoo’ their eyes lit up and exclaimed “oh we’ve heard so much about you!” 

The way he blushed made you want to kiss him silly (you had another drink instead).

Drink five? Four? Everyone here is obliterated, no one notices you and Wonwoo readying to leave.

He looks so pretty like this, tie undone, glasses slipping down his nose, pulling off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders, watching your lips as you talk.

The taxi you pre booked won’t be here for another ten minutes but the room was so stuffy (in both the literal and figurative sense) that as soon as you tell Wonwoo you need to get out of there, he’s nodding and pulling you out into the street. It’s so busy– of course, it’s OT week– that you struggle to find a spot where you won’t be bumped into for a while, eventually settling against the wall of the building opposite, in good view of the road. The noise around you is hectic, and you’re desperate for something less bothersome. Wonwoo looks drunk, looks fucked out. Cheeks flushed and lips parted. Eyes closed, he tips his head back against the brick and exposes the column of his throat. Pretty.

“Hey,” you say, slipping your arms around his waist. “Thanks for coming with me.”

Wonwoo hums. “Yeah, ‘course.” A pause– he wraps his arms around your shoulders. He’s so heavy but you like how it feels. “Anything for you.”

There’s a saccharine sweetness stirring in your stomach. You ask him to tell you the story of Baucis and Philemon again, press your body against his and hope he can still read you like he used to. It’s been years. Maybe he won’t want to.

“Why do you like that one so much?” he asks. You take in the smell of his soap. You know you shouldn’t want to go down this road again. “It’s hardly even a love story.”

“They’re the ultimate love story,” you insist, looking up at your friend to find him already watching you. “They’re precious to each other. I want that kind of love.”

It’s more than that. Baucis and Philemon have a timeless love. Their lightness oozes out of them, their love is both infectious and tender. So devoted they choose to die together. Never without the other even after they’re gone– turned to trees, and their branches and roots weave together so tightly that you can’t tell where either one of them starts and they stay like that, as relics of a lost ancient world. 

There is something ancient about Wonwoo, too. For as long as you can remember he has been older than his years, telling stories of places long buried, of deities forgotten about. You think maybe he was meant for then and not now, the cusp of the twenty-first century. He keeps echoes within him. Carries heavy stones to turn over in his hands and spend time memorising the marks. He is deliberate in the way he moves, no ill-perceived rush, and Wonwoo’s silence carries more weight than his words. 

So when his eyes flicker to your lips again, and he still doesn’t move, you know it’s on you. You know you’re going to have to be the one to shift the sands, change the direction of the tide. You’ve been lovers before. Neither of you have ever said never. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He’d been thinking about it all night but you were the one to press your lips against the corner of his mouth, eyes on his and holding the proximity. Are you thinking about it like he is? Is your heart thrumming in your chest like his? 

“I can feel you thinking.” 

“Uh huh.” His mouth goes dry. He can’t kiss you with a sandpaper tongue. 

You run a finger between two buttons on his shirt, eyes up, watching his reaction. “Can I stay at your place tonight? Hansol’s at his parents' house this weekend, right?” 

Wonwoo’s mind goes blank and he can feel the pink creep over his cheeks. “Did you squeeze your Pompompurin pyjamas in that little bag?”

Your lips twitch in an almost smile, lean in to ghost a kiss against his bottom lip. Wait to see if he pulls back– he doesn’t. His hands just slip down your back, touching the skin under the strap of your dress. Didn’t imagine when he helped you zip up earlier that he’d be the one invited to pull it off you. Has he hidden his desire so poorly? “Do you wanna fuck me in those pyjamas, Wonwoo?”

The street noise is drowned out when you kiss him properly, and it’s embarrassing the way he’s breathless, gripping at your waist and pulling your body closer. Humiliating that this is in full view of strangers, doesn’t want them to see how you lick into his mouth, doesn’t want them to hear your sharp gasp as his teeth drag over your bottom lip. He spins you on the spot, crowds you against the brick and blocks out the world with his shoulders. You pull on a button and slip your hand through the gap. The touch burns. Your kisses are suffocating, loves the way you smile into it, the way you make him chase your lips, run your fingers along the waistband of his trousers an– fuck– he’s gonna get hard in the middle of the street. 

Desperate, he pulls off you and whips his head around to look for the taxi, you’re already complaining. “Not here–,” he says, words rasped, catching in his throat. He can see the taxi rounding the corner, and in a beat he’s pushing off the wall and dragging you toward it by the hand. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He doesn’t touch you in the taxi. Hopes you know it’s not because he didn’t want to, he just doesn’t want to lose himself. His fingers flex eager on the leather seats, wanting something he won’t take. As the driver fiddles with the radio, you lean over to lay your hand across his, to whisper in his ear, “do you still lick your fingers after you’ve made someone come on them?” Wonwoo doesn’t answer, but he can feel the way you watch him swallow– thick– and stare hard out the window at the passing lights. He never did that with anyone but you.

Now you’re paying for it. He’s more confident in the privacy of his bedroom, in the dark. Cages you in his bed, doesn’t bother to turn on the lights before smothering you with his body. Your mouth on his– wet, and eager, and bruising. His hands move to your face, in your hair, angling your head to give his lips access to the tender spot behind your ear. He’s got your dress bunched up around your waist. Takes up all the space between your legs, still too much fabric separating you. One of Wonwoo’s hands cast over the swell of your breast, his thumb tracing circles over your nipple through the thin fabric. You melt into the touch, rolling your hips against him, he sighs into your skin. “Can feel how hard you are,” you gasp, hands pulling at his hair. Makes his skin electric. 

He moves faster, desperate, and you trap his body between your legs, angle your hips so his cock can rub against your clothed cunt just right. “Gonna ruin your trousers,” you whisper. Yeah yeah yeah, fuck it, he’ll pay for dry cleaning for once. The warmth, the wet, seeping through makes him insane. Needs it more than ever, needs you just like this, breath ragged and pupils blown. Needs you needing him so bad you can’t even get out of your clothes before you come. Needs you whining, needs you telling him how badly you want it. Won’t ask for anything, but you know what he likes. It’s always been easy with you. 

“Feels good,” you say. Wonwoo nods into your neck, the pressure building so fast it’s blinding. Hips thrusting rough, rutting like an animal against your clit, desperate for you to get off before he falls apart but he’s so cl–”Missed you so much, Wonwoo.”

“Ah, fu- fuck–” You’re sucking a mark into his neck and Wonwoo can’t stop. Comes hard, breath catching and his rhythm is all fucked up, so fucking embarrased that he couldn’t draw this out. You’re talking him through it– sounds like heaven whispering how good he is, how good this feels, how you love how he sounds when he forgets himself. Didn’t realise he was groaning. A mess of a person reflected in the cum staining through the fabric of this horribly expensive rental. 

Shit.

Needs to get out of this fucking suit. Needs to press his face into your cunt. Wants to ruin you for everyone else. Four years– you wasted four years with other people when you could’ve been doing this. Pushes away thoughts of you being someone else's not even a week ago. Some sick, possessive slice of him wants to reclaim you, mark you up and present you as his to the world. Wants to take the cum in his underwear and push it into your body. Look, see, she’s mine mine mine. Wonwoo’s chest aches.

Your clothes shed in silence. You lay him back against the pillows, kneeling next to him with spread legs, he loves when you let him see. You take one of his hands in yours and work circles into his palm as you pull two of his fingers into your mouth. Get them slick with spit, work your tongue over the tips of his fingers. He can hardly breathe watching you manoeuvre his hand down your body against your cunt, using him like a toy, until his remaining brain cells start to work and he takes over the movement. He’s half hard again already. 

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he rasps. Crooks his fingers and you whine. Wants to eat the sounds spilling from your lips. Needs to do something with his mouth so he doesn’t say something stupid. “Sit on my face?” he asks, obvious urgency in his voice. 

“N-no, like this first,” you say, almost like you’re begging. “Missed your hands so much.”

You look at him through hazy eyes as he works you quickly to the edge, pulling whimpers from your throat every time he plays with your clit. Feels you get impossibly wet when he slips his fingers in deep and moans unashamed along with you. You buck into his palm, head tipping forward to watch his soaked long fingers fucking into you agonisingly slow. Your breath stutters in your throat as he uses his other hand to tease your skin, trailing gently over the meat of your thigh, your ribs, cupping your breast and then dragging you over him to take a nipple in his mouth. Flicks his wet tongue over until it pebbles between his teeth, and you gasp. 

“M’close already,” you whisper. “Gonna come, Wonwoo.” He ruts his hard cock into the air, chasing heat that isn’t there. Fucking loser. You don’t even notice with the way he’s got your breaths coming in fragments. You come undone like lightning, cunt soaking and pulsing around his fingers, your body collapses on top of him, your forehead pressed into his chest. Wonwoo wants a taste but wants to work you through the aftershocks first. He teases slow circles over your clit until you fall apart with a sob, and have to drag his hand out from between your legs.

He waits until you sag to your side– catches sight of your cheeks, flushed and sweat sticking to your skin, your pupils blown out and breathing shallow, more beautiful than he’s ever seen you– before he brings his fingers to his mouth to taste you on them. 

“You’re indecent,” you laugh in disbelief. He almost feels gross until you’re babbling about how hot he is. How he makes you insane. You laugh again when he rolls you onto your back and settles between your legs. It’s been so long he needs to do this right. Starts by pressing a gentle kiss to your clit, ghosts more over your centre, waits for the sound of your gentle sigh before laving a thick stripe over you. Knows just the way to make you molten. He laps at your core until you’re almost sobbing. You jolt whenever his nose slips over your clit, and you’re begging for him to stop the tease. He’ll never deny you what you want. His tongue flicks fast over your clit, his face wet with you now. His moans sound muffled against your cunt when his name falls from your lips in staccato breaths. 

Things have hardly changed. Four years and now, it’s just the fucking same. Your fingers still find purchase in his hair the same way. Mouths at your inner thighs to give your cunt a break. Shit, you’re so hot. You’re clenching around fucking nothing. Pulls the skin between his teeth and you’re writhing, trying to get his tongue back where you need it. Love when you get desperate like this. 

Your nails drag over the nape of his neck and he’s close to losing control– fucks his cock against the mattress and almost cries at the pressure. You grind against his face, Wonwoo knows you’re close. Blacks out as he eats you like he’s been starving, his face so slick with spit and you it drips down his chin to the sheets. Doesn’t dare stop to breathe as he feels your legs begin to shudder over his shoulders. He watches the way you look down at him, brows pinched pleasure, waits for your lips to fall apart with a broken sob before licking into you so deep. He can’t tell who comes first, can’t tell who the enormous wet patch on the mattress belongs to, doesn’t fucking care, just wants to keep you. 

He moves over you when you’re done, pressing chaste kisses to the corner of your mouth, to your cheeks, to your temple, before you’re giggling and pulling his body next to yours. 

“Shift over,” he says, tapping at your hip. “Don’t wanna sleep in the wet patch.”

“Did you come again?” you ask, moving to the side to give him space.

Wonwoo nods, cheeks instantly flushing with heat. But there’s no need for embarrassment because you’re sucking in a breath. Seriously, you say “You have no idea how much I like that.”

He doesn’t reply, just fits his body against yours and presses a kiss to your shoulder. Lets your words wash over him. Sleep comes for him quicker than he wants it, but not before he slides his hand into yours, not before telling you he missed you too. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Mascara stains Wonwoo’s pillowcase but right now he doesn’t care. It’s still too early, still dark outside, but this room is hot, his breath is hot, your leg thrown over his waist is hot, and he’s considering just how monumental this is. It’s been almost four years since you touched him like this. In school it started with a ‘one kiss won’t ruin us’ and ended just before university with a ‘are we still friends?’ Way back then you both swore blind that you could just go back to your regular scheduled programming and nothing had to change. An agreement that those brief months you had (not quite) together in high school were just two best friends helping each other out. A mutual understanding that the love you share is completely and utterly platonic, and platonic friends can totally kiss/touch/fuck for a few months without it ruining something more special than sex. Except he didn’t really mean it. The trouble was that Wonwoo knew even then that he wanted something all consuming. Felt it with you. Wasn’t sure if you wanted the same.

Wonwoo is absolutely not spiralling. 

You’re still sound asleep (always are after nights like the last), and his arm is trapped. Back then he’d use this time to bask in you. With you wrapped up in him it was easy to feel like you were completely his. He used to feel like he could do anything to you, and you’d let him. You’d want it, even. Didn’t actually want to take you over but knowing that he could– the intensity of that scared him. Now that feeling doesn’t come, maybe because you’ve had the separation of time and different lovers, he doesn’t know really. He still doesn’t understand what happened before university. Doesn’t get why you stopped coming over when he was so close to unbottling the feelings in his chest. Just knows that the conversation took him by surprise even after a week of distance. Just knows how his chest ached even as he agreed that it’d be sensible to put it all to bed before leaving your sleepy town for the big city. Knows how his gut twisted sharp when you said that just because you were going together didn’t mean you should go together. Maybe he should’ve protested then, showed you how much he needed you. Impossibilities stretch out before him– if it went that way, last night wouldn’t have happened, he wouldn’t be tracing tiny figures of eight on the small of your back right now. If you’d been together then, young and stupid, would you have stood the test of time?

You stir, half roused, and Wonwoo swallows the lump in his throat, choosing to be grateful for the now. He pulls your waist closer, runs his hand under your thigh to gently adjust the weight. Your eyes are still closed but you make a soft sound of surprise. 

“What time is it?” you ask, voice thick with sleep.

“Too early,” he whispers back. “Go back to sleep.” 

“I was dreaming,” you murmur. 

“What about?” 

Your smile is lazy against his skin. “Can’t tell you,” you say. “You’d run away.”

Wonwoo thinks hard about this. “I don’t run away,” he says, quiet and serious. 

You blink open soft eyes to look at him, and Wonwoo feels too much. “Your face is all frozen, Wonwoo,” you say, gentle. “Are you okay?”

“Kiss me. Wish me good morning.” Wonwoo’s voice comes out with more edge than he intends. Doesn’t sound like his own. Feels cheap, something sleazy. Feels tragically guilty about it until he sees the look on your face. Like you want to eat him.

Your gaze is dark when you lock eyes with him. Push up with your hands, straddling his hips, his cock against your rear. You take his hands, larger than yours, place them on your ribcage, push them down down down, making goosebumps pebble along in his wake, until he’s using his thumbs to spread you apart. A little wet already, leaves a slick mark on his skin. He sighs at the sight of it. Your breath comes harder when he plays with your clit. You lean over, say– “Good morning, Wonwoo.” Press a delicate kiss to his top lip. “You’re gonna come inside me this time, okay?”

Wonwoo isn’t religious, but he feels like angels made you for him. Tells you so, and you gasp against his mouth. The way you kiss him this time is anything but angelic. Wet. Messy. Sharp teeth leaving imprints on his lips. It hurts. Nice in a way it shouldn’t be. A relief– the way the hurt makes his mind stop. You roll your hips against him and he makes a desperate sort of noise. Keeps his eyes focused on his fingers drawing circles on your clit. Your hands reach behind you to stroke his hardening cock and he arches into your touch. “Needy,” you chastise. Wonwoo nods. 

Doesn’t want it like this. Wants you under him, wants to fuck you slow. Tells you so, the words come anguished, almost– and you nod dumbly. You don’t drag out the build up. Lay on your back, open your legs for him, spread them wide and line his cock up with your wet heat so quick he doesn’t have time to overthink. He makes a strangled sound when he pushes inside. The slide is agonisingly slow. He’s being so careful, as if you’d crack like china - fragile beneath him. You clench around his cock, thick and scalding- God, it’s sweet torture. Wants more of it. 

You pull, desperate, at his waist, rolling your hips against him but he’s pulling out. This time he just slides the head in, hisses, teases, and back out. He does it again, and again, doesn’t know who this teasing is for. He’s licking into your mouth, pressing hungry kisses on your open lips, eating up all your noises, your whines, your soft moans. Things are still the same. He likes going so so deep into you, bottoming out and grinding his skin against your clit, likes when your moan comes muffled in his open wet mouth. It’s the same. Likes when your hands find purchase in the sheets, fist them in desperation, likes when you feel it’s not enough so you grab at his, intertwine your fingers and let him fuck you like this. Like you’re in love. It’s still the same.

“How do you feel, angel?” 

“Uh–” A pause to suck in a fractured breath.

“Tell me how you feel,” he says. Almost begging. Would be mortifying if he whispered that against anyone else’s cheek. Can feel the wetness there too. 

“Homesick,” you gasp. “I feel homesick.”

He fucks you harder then, driving into you so deep he could be part of you. Melt in, blend together, blur the lines, weave the fucking branches. You’re full of spells, he thinks. Made of magic. Doesn’t realise until after that he’s said it aloud. Wet starshine eyes on his as you come apart, pussy pulsing around his cock, impossibly wet, telling him come with me baby, babbling nonsense about how you want it inside, how you need it so bad, how he makes you feel so good. 

Wonwoo really looks at you before he comes. Takes a moment to commit your face to memory. Any time could be the last and he needs this– needs you– to stay with him. Doesn’t know if he’ll ever be the same. 

“Like that, Wonwoo” you’re saying, all breathy and high-pitched as he spills into you with a choked whine. “Like when you–” Cum slips out around his cock and he gathers it up on his fingers. Pushes them into your mouth to stop you talking. Can’t bear it. Can’t bear the way your pupils blow out and you lick the cum from his fingers. Can’t stand how his name sounds in your mouth, sweeter, more precious, because there’s something like love coating it. God, he wants to be yours. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wonwoo likes your apartment better. Likes the way your sheets start to smell like him too. You’ve always carved out space for him but this time it’s deeper. Likes showering with you here, not to fuck, just to wash away the mess you make of each other. Likes holding you in his arms under the stream, running the lather across your skin, loving kisses pressed against your forehead. Lately he stays here more often than he goes home.

You haven’t said the words yet, neither has he. Doesn’t want to push too much too soon. 

It’s just after nine on Sunday morning, and you’re out of– well, pretty much everything. He offers to go but you insist he stays in bed, hair messed up, sheets pooling in his bare lap, glasses slipping down his nose while he rereads Kafka on the Shore. “Stay just like that,” you say it like a demand, but you’re smiling, pulling a scarf around your neck to run down the street to the shop, maybe stop at the deli for breakfast. “Back in a bit, don’t move an inch.”

A few minutes go by when the shrill of the telephone in the living room punctuates the silence. Wonwoo doesn’t get up to answer, it’d be improper, what if it was your mother? So he lets it ring through to answerphone, and when it clicks on it takes him a moment to recognise the voice calling your name. 

“Are you there? Pick up, darling, pick up.” Wonwoo knows Hongseok has been trying to get back together with you. You’d mentioned it a few weeks ago, how he’d sent flowers. You don’t even like roses.

“I saw you by the river yesterday,” he says. Wonwoo looks up, stares at the wall. You’d insisted on getting out of the apartment, pulled your bodies from soft sheets and into soft sweaters, and Wonwoo only complained a little bit. In truth he loved walking with you. That he can hold your hand in public and no one bats an eye. Loves that you can be his here, that you claim him too. “You’re with him now? How long, darling? Does he fuck you like I do? ” 

Wonwoo scoffs. Hongseok is just jealous. Wonwoo gets it. He does. Even if he’d never dream of saying it.

Hongseok’s voice turns nasty now. “Do you think he’ll stay this time? Does he know you’ve been in love with him this whole time? Everyone else knows. He won’t love you properly, you know. He’s just using you like last time, is he still keeping you a secret? You don’t deserve that, darling. You don’t deserve to be hidden–”

 Is that what you thought? That he hid you? Bile swirls in Wonwoo’s stomach. Does he do that? Did he hurt you?

“–he’s just gonna fuck you up again and you’re gonna be miserable. But he won’t let you be happy with anyone, will he? Selfish fucking prick, he’s so cruel to you. You don’t see it, do you? It’s pathetic how fucking dumb you are for him–”

Wonwoo didn’t think he was cruel. There is spit pooling in his mouth, his stomach churns. Is he cruel to you?

The line clicks off as Hongseok spits out every name under the sun, but Wonwoo doesn’t hear the rest as he retches into your bathroom sink. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Forty minutes later, you’re calling out to Wonwoo that you’re home as you kick off your shoes. “I got us bagels, do you want the salmon cream cheese or the egg and ba- oh! You’re up.”

Wonwoo sits on your sofa in soft sweats and a baggy white t-shirt. His skin and hair are damp from the shower. The whites of his eyes are bloodshot. “You okay?” you ask, tentatively. 

“Hmm,” he says. “Didn’t feel too good earlier.”

“Poor you,” you say. “Will breakfast make you feel better?”

“No, sorry,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically stiff. “I think I should head home. Don’t wanna give you a bug.”

You laugh softly, unpacking the groceries from the bags. “You spat in my mouth last night, if you’ve got something then I’ll have it in no time,” you say. “C’mon, stay. I’ll look after you. I’ll make soup.”

But Wonwoo is already standing, pulls a little money from his wallet and leaves it on the table. “What’s that for?”

“Breakfast,” he says. “Feel bad you bought all this and I need to go.”

You frown. “Stop being strange, I don’t care about the food, just get the next one.”

Wonwoo sighs. He’s annoyed, you realise. This is weird.

In the end you let him leave without drama, but not without a kiss to his cheek. He leans into it a little longer than usual. Closes his eyes as he hugs you goodbye. 

You eat breakfast alone. TV on, sound off, wondering what the fuck even happened before you notice the light of your answerphone flickering. 

New message, left 09:21: 

Hi Sweetheart! It’s your aunt’s birthday next week, just calling to remind you to send a card. Call me back, okay, love you, bye!

End of messages.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

sorry about the ending there :( if it helps, it does get better for them. thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging so my fic can get seen outside my own little space <3 i love seeing your feedback. if you'd prefer to scream at me directly, feel free to send me a message <3 ily, goodnight!

[knoepfl]

Could you do platonic! Tomura Shigaraki x child! reader where he discovers a young girl (a bit younger than Eri) who has the power of Collector (she permanently gains and becomes immune to any Quirk she comes into contact with, for example when she came into contact with Shigaraki's Decay, she now also has Decay and it won't work on her)?

Hey there! I really loved this idea ngl had something fun writing it! I hope you like it^^

A New Chance

Characters:

• Tomura Shigaraki A cold and volatile villain with a destructive Quirk and a deep hatred for heroes. Beneath his violent exterior lies a man scarred by a traumatic past. His unexpected connection with Lila forces him to confront feelings of responsibility and protectiveness he didn’t think he was capable of.

• Lila (OC) A five-year-old orphan with a tragic past. She is sweet, curious, and emotionally fragile but possesses an unexplained resilience that draws Tomura in. Lila’s innocence and trust challenge the hardened villain’s worldview, creating a bond that neither expected.

• League of Villains (Dabi, Toga, Spinner, and others) A chaotic and dangerous group of criminals who reluctantly accommodate Lila. Their interactions with her range from amused fascination (Toga) to wary indifference (Dabi), adding tension to her new life among them.

Trigger Warnings:

• Child endangerment: Portrayal of a young child in precarious situations with dangerous individuals (L.O.V.).

• Death and grief: Discussion of the loss of Lila’s parents and her processing of the trauma. (And a bit of Shigaraki's Trauma ig)

• Violence and destruction: Depictions of the aftermath of violent battles and the dangerous nature of Tomura’s Quirk.

• Emotional vulnerability: Exploration of trauma, loneliness, and the fragile connection between Lila and Tomura.

• Morally ambiguous relationships: The dynamic between a villain and a child raises questions of ethics and safety.

Masterlist

Words: 1048

---

Tomura Shigaraki hated detours. He hated wasted time, especially after the disaster that today had been. The heroes had interfered with their plans again, and his irritation bubbled under the surface as he trudged through the ruins of a crumbled neighborhood. The cold night air bit at his skin, making him pull his hoodie tighter over his head.

It wasn’t the first time he’d walked through the wreckage left behind by so-called heroes, and he doubted it would be the last. Still, something about this place felt… different.

He stopped abruptly when a soft sound caught his attention—a hiccup, maybe, or a sniffle. His crimson eyes narrowed as he scanned the rubble.

Nestled between two large pieces of collapsed concrete was a small figure. A child.

The girl couldn’t have been more than five years old. Her tiny frame was engulfed in an oversized, torn sweater that hung limply off her shoulders. Her face was smudged with dirt, and her big, tear-filled eyes peeked out from beneath a curtain of messy hair. She clutched a stuffed rabbit to her chest, its fur matted and one ear missing.

Tomura frowned, his fingers twitching at his sides. “What are you doing here, kid?” he asked, his voice harsher than he intended.

The girl flinched, her grip on the rabbit tightening. “Hiding,” she mumbled, her voice trembling.

“Hiding from what?”

She sniffled and pointed at the collapsed building behind her. “The bad people… and the fire.”

Tomura followed her gaze, his sharp eyes taking in the charred remains of what was once a home. The building had collapsed completely, leaving nothing but rubble and ash. He didn’t need to ask what had happened—heroes had probably been too late, as they so often were.

“What happened?” he asked, crouching down to her level despite himself.

She hesitated, her small hands gripping the rabbit tightly. “Mama and Papa… they didn’t get out,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “The big man said the heroes would save us, but… they didn’t.”

Her words cut deeper than Tomura expected. He stared at her, trying to ignore the strange, uncomfortable feeling creeping into his chest.

“What’s your name?” he asked after a moment.

“Lila,” she said softly. “Who are you?”

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

Her little brow furrowed in confusion. “Are you a hero?”

The question made him bark out a bitter laugh. “Not even close.”

She tilted her head, studying him carefully. “But… you’re not yelling at me. And you’re not leaving.”

Tomura stared at her, unsure how to respond. He should leave. She wasn’t his problem. And yet… he couldn’t bring himself to turn away.

“Do you have a Quirk?” he asked, changing the subject.

Lila blinked, confused. “I dunno. Mama said I didn’t have one yet.”

His frown deepened. Something about her was… off. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Come on,” he said abruptly, standing up.

“Where?” she asked, her voice small and hesitant.

“With me,” he said. “Unless you want to stay here and wait for the bad people to find you.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked like she might cry again. But instead, she scrambled to her feet, clutching her rabbit tightly. “Okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She reached for his hand, her tiny fingers curling around his. Tomura stiffened, his instinct to pull away overridden by the realization that his Decay hadn’t activated. He glanced down at her, his mind racing.

When they arrived at the League’s hideout, Lila was practically glued to Tomura’s side. Her small hand refused to let go of his, and she trailed after him like a shadow, her wide eyes darting around nervously.

“What the hell, Shigaraki?” Dabi drawled, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the wall. “Didn’t know we were running a daycare now.”

“She’s staying,” Tomura said curtly, not bothering to explain.

Toga’s eyes lit up as she bounded over to Lila with a wide grin. “Oh my gosh, she’s adorable!” she squealed. “Can I keep her?”

“No,” Tomura snapped, pulling Lila closer.

The girl buried her face in his leg, clutching his pant leg tightly.

Spinner frowned. “And why exactly are we babysitting?”

Tomura shot him a glare. “Because I said so.”

Lila peeked out from behind Tomura, her voice muffled as she whispered, “Is this your house?”

Toga giggled. “Something like that, sweetie.”

“Do you have food?” Lila asked, her stomach growling audibly.

Tomura sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Spinner, get her something to eat.”

Over the next few days, Lila clung to Tomura like a lifeline. She followed him everywhere, her small hand always reaching for his whenever he moved. If he sat down, she was immediately in his lap, her rabbit nestled between them.

At first, it annoyed him. He wasn’t used to having someone so close all the time. But gradually, he found himself… tolerating her.

“Why do you scratch your neck all the time?” she asked one day, looking up at him with curious eyes.

Tomura froze mid-scratch, glaring at her. “None of your business.”

She tilted her head, unfazed by his sharp tone. “Does it hurt?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “No,” he muttered.

“Good,” she said simply, leaning her head against his arm.

One evening, as she sat in his lap drawing on a scrap of paper, Lila looked up at him with a serious expression.

“Why didn’t the heroes save Mama and Papa?” she asked softly.

Tomura’s chest tightened. He didn’t have an answer—at least, not one she would understand.

“They’re not as good as they want you to think,” he said finally.

She nodded, as if that made perfect sense. “I don’t like them,” she said. “They’re liars.”

For the first time in years, Tomura felt a strange, unfamiliar warmth in his chest.

“Don’t worry, kid,” he said, his voice low but firm. “They won't be there for long, i'll make sure of that.”

Lila smiled, reaching up to pat his face with her tiny hand. "Thank you. You’re a bit scary, but you’re not bad.”

Tomura stared at her, the weight of her words settling over him. She didn’t know it yet, but she was far more dangerous than he could ever be. And he would make sure no one took advantage of that.

---

[sirenscradle]

♰𖣐♰ Devil’s catch | c.s ii

[character sheet ii. (out of five)]

pairings: exorcist!hongjoong x psychic!racially and bodily diverse reader (some ot8 x reader but heavily focused on hongjoong, trust that everyone will be intertwined though.)

genres: religious horror, supernatural-fantasy, suggestive (possible eventual smut and more intense displays at intimacy). (18+) stupid-yet-gifted friend group trope lol

summary: “the order” is a secret organization of exorcists blessed with special abilities dedicated to expelling higher class demons—located in a ancient crypt hidden beneath the vatican. when an exceptionally gifted child is followed by prophetic omens and falls into possession of an unclassified s-class demon—kim hongjoong, considered one of the greatest exorcists of the 21st century, is dispatched under the mysterious order of convincing an enigmatic psychic hiding away in a metropolis to accompany he and his team in what might be their most daunting exorcism yet.

masterlist, spotify playlist (for your leisure), chapter i. (all character sheets will be on my masterlist and are quite important to the story!) series warnings can be found on my masterlist. i will be posting several character sheets before releasing chapter ii.

taglist: @cypherluv (let me know if you want to be added! :) )

important notice: wanted to note that reader descriptions/ strega are remaining racially ambiguous and there will be little to no anatomical descriptions regarding her body type, skin color, and hair texture/type! since this is a reader insert, i want it to be as inclusive as possible. :) i encourage you to use your imagination!

jeong yunho: he who judges the weight of sin. [the executioner.]

name: jeong yunho

age: 28

abilities: if seonghwa was hongjoong’s right hand man, yunho would be the one flanking his left. yunho was blessed with an ability referred to as “the scales of judgement. he helps assist the process of exorcising in his ability to gauge which parts of the human soul are being inhabited by the essence of a demon. he can see a demons class and name most of the time, and so he’s typically the one who acts as the main identifier of The Order. yunho was the one responsible for incorrectly classing the demon yeosang and mingi were sent to exorcise on their first assignment, but we suspect he may have done it on purpose to investigate his suspicions of yeosang possibly having an ability…. and did it to provide enough pressure for him to crack. in his defense, he thought yeosang was deliberately hiding it. whoops (so much for the power of judgement ig) during special class exorcisms, however, this ability allows him to activate another portion of his gift by amplifying his natural talents so that it’s at level with whatever evil it’s weighing on its scale. given that yunho has an affinity for siphoning electricity from just about anything…. it means he can fry a demon with the voltage necessary to kill them (the scales basically amplify him to charge up to the necessary voltage to cause enough damage to exact judgement and satisfy the unbalanced scales.) though, it’s an incredibly intricate process of navigating the human soul to know which parts he can afford to shock.

while yunho is seemingly the most patient and kind of the group, he secretly harbors a level of superiority over others who are not as competent or strong. he simultaneously feels that it’s his duty as one of the most gifted to protect the “insignificant and incompetent” and is actually quite cunning. many assume that he’s much more fragile than seonghwa and that seonghwa is more capable of cruelty than him, but it’s completely flipped. however, he has enough social tack to not say any of his thoughts out loud.

fun facts: yunho was the third to join the order a year after seonghwa and hongjoong were simultaneously recruited. it took awhile for them to feel comfortable with another person, but yunho’s lax and amiable nature allowed even the ever-stoic seonghwa to soften from time to time.

yunho is equally as morally gray as hongjoong. he will do what he feels is necessary—even if it’s not in alignment with what’s considered good.

he wears a silver ring on his left hand that acts as a conductor for helping siphon and retain electricity. it’s also designed to help him aim more accurately.

kang yeosang: atlas, whomst carries the weight of a heavy stone.

name: kang yeosang

age: 27

abilities: the order had originally assumed that yeosang failed the ritual of infernal trial despite miraculously surviving it, as his talent for gravity manipulation didn’t show itself immediately. however, when a higher level demon was mistakenly classed lower during one of his first assignments, alongside mingi whom had been gravely wounded—he had instantly killed the demon and tragically its host when he unconsciously used a gravity shield in desperation at the sight of mingi’s blood and mangled body. he bears similarities to wooyoung, as he didn’t start his ability specific training until he was fourteen—but to wooyoung’s frustration, yeosang mastered his ability quickly over the years and was considered a protégé. we suspect that he unconsciously suppressed his gift of gravity due to deep seated trauma sustained after the ritual, but he hasn’t remembered yet. yeosang’s dynamic with wooyoung is complex, as he is the only one who could understand the difficulties of having a gift that can severely harm someone if not honed enough. although they’re best friends, yeosang harbors a large amount of guilt for feeling like he’s unintentionally left wooyoung behind in his journey of mastering his gift. wooyoung also tries to deny his own resentments in favor of supporting yeosang, but he’s more frustrated at himself for “not being good enough.” though gravity manipulation is a great offense ability (can push the weight of a room against someone or use it to amplify any blows he delivers while fighting— it’s a truly great strength based ability) yeosang has honed his ability so well that he could use it for defense (creating a shield enforced by gravity and can push off anything that attempts to push against it. almost like a force shield!) as he wants to avoid killing anyone else ever again. acts as the shield/ placed in defense when in team formation.

fun fact: he’s often the first one to wake up in the morning and it’s his unspoken duty to make coffee for the team, since everyone else seems to suck at it. in another life, yeosang might have wanted to roast coffee beans for a living instead of expelling demons from the human soul but he’ll take what he can get.

[zsakuva]

1. Is Kayson's hair natural or dyed? Does the sakuverse reflects realistic genetics or like fantasy genetics like the ones in anime where they could have any color of hair and eyes naturally?

2. If Isaac pushed through with his decision to be a lawyer, what field would he specialize in? Criminal defense? If he was, would he be picky about who he defends just as he is with his cases? Like would he defend a criminal that actually committed a crime?

3. If Isaac's family is still alive, what would they think of Isaac technically kidnapping Pickle? Isaac's mom would likely be proud that he helped someone, but what about his dad and grandpa?

4. We know Isaac pays Pickle about above minimum wage, but could you give us a range of how much he pays them per hour?

5. Very random but who among your characters peed their beds when they were little(aside from Elias)?

6. Does Pickle even do taxes? Ig their salary is probably paid in full by Isaac, but do they even need to pay taxes?

7. Before Isaac hired Pickle, how did he manage his time? Like since he's busy, would he just do chores while doing phone calls? And what kind of meals did he usually prepare for himself?

Kayson is an outlier seeing as when I made him as a character, there was no Sakuverse. So it's a 'we acknowledge it but we don't talk about it' with him. Unless I change it.

He'd likely go into criminal defence. But he wouldn't be picky about who we defends; his current job is ambiguous as well.

They would likely understand why he did it but wouldn't condone it.

It's per assignment, not hour. They can range depending on what it is. For one assignment, it could be $10,000. For another, $200,000.

Probably a lot, if not all. It happens~

Never thought about it.

He would do everything half-assed. Wipe something with a cloth here and there, and then forget to do the rest. For meals, it would be very simple, probably very microwaveable meals or things that can be heated up with little effort.

[midnight1nk]

I may be missing some context here. How long has Medi been on the team? Are there any references/moments in previous episodes I've missed? And if it's a known issue, why is Medi still on the team?

Alright, let's take one question at a time. To answer the first one, he's been on the Team for almost 5 years.

In order to answer the rest, I have to bring in my experience in production, as well as what I learned from my storyboard artist moot (not affiliated with Glitch btw). That way, it'll be easier to understand.

When working in production, we each have our own preferences, naturally. As much as we do, we do have set boundaries in how much of ourselves in our work. Here's an example, a news story can only be as it is if there is neutrality, having both sides in it. So yes, we would have to interview people whose values are totally contrasting to ours. If it leans more to one side, it's more fit to be an opinion piece instead. So, that applies to every other role in production. Which is understandable, we can always make our own stuff outside of work. We can write what we want, have as many fan creations as we want. As long as it's not affiliated with our work, or ig canon, and just something for ourselves, it's fine. If it's within the rules, that's out of the board's control. Probably have a coworker you disagree with on some things, have them 50 steps away from you. It's to not get involved with it too much, that's fair.

Like I said, every person in the production crew has their preferences, and that includes ships. If someone wants to give a nod to their fellow ships, the most they can do is to have it be ambiguous. That way, one side would have their interpretation and the rest get the shipper interpretation. So yes, Medi was able to sneak in moments subtle enough that we could've easily missed it at first glance. The audience wouldn't notice it at first, the Team wouldn't. But those people would. Anyway, back to the explanation, it was possible to get away with it. Perhaps a warning or two IF it was caught in time. But this only works if it's not part of canon.

It's pretty standard with any piece of media. It's how we can have shipping moments while some would see the interaction as platonic. And it's not just ships btw, it can be other stuff like gore. The production crew knows their limits, and they have to respect them. Some test how far they can push it. But for those who crossed the line, ofc it'll get noticed.

This was straight up IN YOUR FACE! It's not just crossing the line anymore, it's outright disrespecting the rest of the Team. Either way, I hope it clears things up. Ofc it's a lot more complicated than that, especially with contracts and legalities. But yeah, this situation sucks and I feel so bad for the people who didn't deserve this. I hope this gets resolved soon.

thanks for the ask

[halfbaked00q]

there's this veerry interesting thing about Bond that really crystalizes in Quantum of Solace. And I brought it up in that other post too and i'm too lazy to restate it differently lmao so I'm just gonna copy/paste, but:

Bond has this veeeryy interesting thing where he's like. so brutally practical that once someone is dead, they're dead. he's able to like. lock on excise sentimentality for brutal practicality (dumping Mathis' body in the dumpster and grabbing his cash). like he's not without feeling - jumping onto the car - but also it's soooo interesting that he's like. so sentimental in like, he can & does feel intensely (and falls in love easily/falls at least a bit in love with the ppl who have an impact on him). but not sentimental in, like, the more maudlin kind of sense. It's soo fascinating, ...

but yeah there's. a LOT to dig into here, I think. In terms of how Bond works & the nature of his psyche. It's sooo interesting cuz I do think it creates a picture of a guy who... kind of incapable of dealing with and processing grief like a normal person? And again I think there's an argument to be made that this kind of thing is VERY good for a field agent/ this kind of behavior is a GREAT adaptation for a field agent. But incredibly maladaptive for like. trying to Be a Real Boy so to speak.

I've made the lobster metaphor before where it's like. maybe the way he can deal with damage is like the way a lobster does - he has to shed his old shell & grow a new one. and with successive sheds the damage disappears.

But perhaps that's too external - maybe it's more like a lizard dropping its tail or a starfish dropping its arm, it's more like an excisement. And that may be fine a couple of times, but do that too many times and it leaves him hollow(/ed out). He can keep walking and talking and working but at some point all that'd be left is a hollow killing machine. (and then @cicerfics had this banger line: "Carved away so many necrotic pieces of his soul that there's nothing left!!!!" bruh. necrotic pieces of his soul. yeah. that's it. somehow he's so good at letting go but NOT at healing. so he can't necessarily process grief & move on from it the way a normal well-adjusted (better adjusted?) person could - it almost invariably becomes a necrotic wound that has to be excised. or something)

But yeah, I think this juxtaposition is fascinating and very compelling. And honestly, imo. much more textually supported than a supposed "juxtaposition of his stated objectivity" and supposedly "more aggressive actions" -- which we literally see IN THE MOVIE, ON SCREEN. is predicated on false pretenses (yes the movie is framed as a revenge movie. but also Bond is literally being framed as being on an uncontrollable revenge warpath. due to the he didn't actually kill all of those people he is accused of killing. which we are shown. on screen. hello??)

anyway bringing it back from my suddenly-I-have-one-sided-beef with this video essayer ig, lmao. anyway boy does this boy have Disambiguous Issues. like it's not even Ambiguous Disorders - we have an idea of what it is that's wrong with this guy. but oh boy is he fucked in the head (admiring). this is why it's to fun to crack him open and be like "wow! that sure is really fucked up!" in there and also Put Him In Situations and see what he might do. :3

[hcgossips]

I think the whole problem resigns in the fact Henry and his unethical team built his public image relying on a fake persona far from his real person in many aspects, and always promoted a very ambiguous image of him, investing massively, in paid articles, paid paps and fake plots to help promote this fake persona. The cup got full and overflowed. They then, created an Avatar. Henry Cavill became a fictional character just like his IG is today (It wasn't before). And, stating that about his IG says it all.

They did much more than most actors do. His greed for adoration, visibility and the spotlight was too much and went too far. He lost his boundaries. Fame ended up coming before dignity. He couldn't let things happen naturally and he didn't accept being just one more famous name and face. Link that to unethical and unscrupulous people in Hollywood, who used him as a muppet, relying on his fragile Character.

His Ego was pumped and he wanted the top, to break the internet, he wanted all: mansions, expensive car collection, an eccentric reputation, a wealthy wild single life smoozing and boozing with friends, a girlfriends' keychain collection to prove his manhood, to be a God in the eyes of many. He had to be the perfect man.

As the saying states: "Set a beggar on horseback and he will ride to hell".

P.S.: And his team will continue trying to avoid people from seeing this, paying fake followers and fake fans to come after who sees it without a pink pair of glasses.

[petrichorium]

hiiii pluvi, nyla here! for your one piece and hq selfships: 💞, 📝, 🌦️ aaaaand 💌! thanks in advance! i'll have fun answering your asks too uwu

📝: How would your story in canon go? How would you influence the events of the original story?

Shanks — as of rn i dont influence the story tbh...... we'll have to re-address this in a decade when we get more red-haired pirates and after shanks dies KJHSDFJKHB but for now im just kinda lingering whenever theres rhp moments. my first appearance is the luffy wanted poster scene and i make a lil comment to mihawk (smthn like "always lovely to see you hawk-eyes" yk ambiguous enough), then im in the bg during the bit where rockstar calls shanks, im missing during marineford and then i show up during whitebeard/ace's funeral and im consistently w the red-haired pirates from then on. during the wano bit i finally get another line agreeing w lime juice after he mentions barto, then a passing goodbye to marco. im shown towards the side of the bar scene in elbaf reading a book and then im in the big wide-shot as theyre approaching the red force; the one "big" change is that im the one who hands the info on kidd off to shanks (bc that is Technically my official job as communications officer) and hongo and i have a tiny exchange. oda also talks abt me a bit in an sbs, he says im the only officer who hasnt met luffy and mentions im from a new world island, n says i joined the crew five yrs prior to the present

Kuroo — another one where i have minimal impact on the canon LOL but he and i r coworkers to lovers soooooo i only show up at the very end!!! i think im a recurring character in the final timeskip match chapters, i appear four or five times w the final time being w kuroo's appearance and described as his colleague. maybe later on theres an extra sketch of us grabbing a drink in our work uniforms and it sparks hella shippers

💞: Aside from with your f/o, who else would you commonly be shipped with? Why?

Shanks — i think any of the other red-haired officers is common but lime juice is the go-to for me simply bc of that one interaction in wano LMFAOOOOOOOO and then hongo later on for the elbaf interaction pfft. beckman is also a regular name in a "pair the spares" sense but icl i dont think hes ever spoken to me in canon (simply bc i do not have much screentime) & mihawk is also Somewhat up there again be of my one line. OH AND MARCO..... i think when he leaves the ship after wano he passes me and does an ambiguous hug/hand to the arm thing that has ppl like wtf was that 🫣

Kuroo — i think kenma bc im shown in the bg of a few of his shots!!! and i think theres a panel or two of me interacting w ushijima so theres a few instances of that...... theres like one super dedicated crackshipper of me and iwa LOL

🌦️: Would you be accompanied by mostly fluff or angst fanfics? Both? Explain why.

Shanks — ohhhh a mix.... i think whenever im involved its either relatively low-key fluff or a super in-depth character deep-dive. im often used as a catalyst for mishanks or shuggy or any manner of other m/m ships tho which means ig its angst for shuvi 😔

Kuroo — def fluff, but also a bit of angst. in a similar light a lot of fics im in have me being a catalyst specifically for kuroken, and there r probs just as many poly fics as there are of just me n kuroo, but by n large the Actual shipfics are cutesy work romance vibes

💌: How would your dynamic be portrayed? What might people focus on most? Any misconceptions?

Shanks — honestly the dynamic is varying bc theres just not much content of me or us interacting as of yet, just the tiniest bit of banter and then a very professional back n forth. shanks tends to be portrayed as Down Bad in ships so i think that is accurate, but i do think people generally overemphasize the captain/subordinate thing and a lot of the nuance wrt the nature of my joining the crew is not considered fully until my full backstory is discussed

Kuroo — sjhdfusbfv fuckboy kuroo my beloathed....... but i feel its not That bad. idk our dynamic is soooo Normal obvi its a v subtle ship/only vaguely hinted at so the specifics of our strangers-to-friends-to-lovers slow burn is not known,,,,,, i think generally the dynamic is far faster and not drawn out in fanon. people focus more on the working together, boss/secretary vibe (when i rlly quit my job right as we get together rip) and write us as having a very nuclear family i think.

send in some selfship questions!

[yappacadaver]

and again you literally can't even be mad that he's so scared to die... man knows hell is real + he is going there when he dies!!!! unless he can find a way to fix this situation, the true nature of which the audience still isn't entirely aware o_o

like ig i must be in the minority of fans for completely 100% sympathizing with him when it's supposed to be morally kind of ambiguous and also he's definitely abusing the player character which colors a lot of people's perceptions of him but like my god dude. hell is real and is the place you're going for all of eternity when you die and you are in life/death kinda danger with increasing frequency as you grow older, and it expands to include endangering everyone around you and potentially getting them sent to hell as well... do you give up and die and get sent to the mommy's rotting flesh dimension forever or do you try to extend your time on earth as long as you can in search of a way to make the demons leave ppl the fuck alone?

[milfbrainrot]

ramblingg

so i love this game and i think the ambiguity of how things connect together is a feature not a bug, esp bc like... something something the inherently foggy nature of memories, and the metaphors do fuck severely.

BUT. it does drive me a littel crazey as someone who likes sticking to canon as much as possible and making sure my explanations make sense when i do need to fill in the gaps myself.

there are so many possible explanations for so many intriguing details that you can end up with so many different combinations of how things play out, it's hard to actually figure out what makes The Most Sense. and that's fine ig, i'll just do whatever works best for my silly little fanfics.

i think it's just. that. in addition to certain things not quite making "sense" in terms of realism. it feels grounded in some areas and ungrounded in others, maybe because some things are references i don't understand or because metaphor prevails. i think i just have trouble pinning exactly where this falls btwn hard and soft scifi which is what is actually the thing that makes it hard to work with.

in particular, the way aging rates and immunity works. iris is immortal and her clones age weirdly, maybe because of her immortality or maybe because of how the cloning process works. it's most convenient that the clones are sorta frozen at the age iris is for symbolism reasons and because... idk how genetics work but you could bullshit something about dna being frozen at a particular age in order to avoid a standard aging pace when developing clones? and to ensure that they then don't... continually age at that rapid rate??? i like that they do age from the wear and tear of existing and then they just... Expire. it does just kinda confuse me i guess when i think too hard about it.

then ofc iris being immortal. so if clara wasn't getting sick, you can guess there's something in their dna keeping her family immune--actual genetic, or genetic trauma making them valuable or more study compared to someone with less memories to extract. it makes sense the other pacific ships had other people to work with, perhaps (esp if you believe ephemeral was from another ship), and immunity doesn't save people bc occupants can kill in other ways + the collapse of society is hard to survive in. i guess that just does add to issues with suspension of disbelief, because if other people are immune why was it just iris on this ship? a lack of resources and time crunch and risks of resurfacing to gather anyone else? when the other occupants left and only hers rly stuck around... what year was that? would it have been feasible for them to have grown bored and left other survivors on the planet or were they thorough enough to leave no traces? it seems like we have access to clara's memories that only clara would have so did she get absorbed too? but isn't she immune???????????????????????????????????????????????????? but i guess iris is able to have her own transfers without dying so maybe that's just what happens to people who get affected but don't die from the process bc of immunitieee???

i am being nitpicky i just sometimes feel a bit empty due to the feeling of the game being SO iris-centric that it feels like the rest of earth doesn't really exist. and that's kind of the point lmao it's about her isolation and treatment as an enigma. and the metaphor of it all fucks severely. and there's nothing rly saying there ISN'T more going on elsewhere on earth until other humans inevitably die out from age and survival woes. and again there are so many different combos of explanations for so many things you could make anything work in the end.

but also why did iris stop aging even before the communions. did the occupant just... watch over her until it was time to take her as its own? allow her to form more trauma to pull from? but then why did it seem to only be able to find her in the first place once the coup caused emotions to rise so high? immunity =/= immortality, or maybe it DOESS equal immortality since principal herself has lived longer than any other clone due to being a specific copy of iris, with the principal clones carrying similarities but ultimately weaker genetic coding.

i don't think it is Meant to be thought about like this i think the fogginess is Meant to be inseparable from the experience so it isn't really a complaint about the game or its quality or whether it achieved what it set out to do - i just wish i were the right brand of insane to just leave it at that.

[dol-dee]

comes to your inbox with a 📱 and a 🍬

✨Ask Game✨

📱 - How did you encountered DoL? From a friend, through social media etc.

Not all too intersting tbh. It was via social media. I used to follow quite a few more yandere blogs and kept encountering artworks of dol through those (mostly kylar ofc), as well as through other nsfw accounts. It was an occasional yet consistent occurance that i got curious over the years. I took one look at the game the first time around and went: lol no. not interested - this shit is ugly.

I only remembered it as "that ugly porn game" from then when fanart popped up again. Generally just forgot about it again after that first time though.

but yeah the crumbs of dol art kept popping up. and it was persistent enough that I went: okay. I dont fucking get it, i keep seeing art for this game. why is this so popular?? and decided to sit down and actually try it to figure out why people are so into it.

I did NOT like it at all when i first played it and i had (well partly still have) so many issues with it.

🍬 - Something you want to see in the game in the next update.

✨Initial answer✨

Answered this one already! but... yeah.. a more thorough fleshing out of the existing LIs before they add a new one. I know most people want another LI but i really REALLY dont. the content is already spread thin across the ones they have.. (tbf idc much about GH and BW but Avery is a prime example of a LI that barely has any content unless you grab her and run with it in your beautiful mind palace..)

Eden is all over the place and doesnt really have much personality imo. All of the LIs are kind of... static? which ig is due to the endless nature of the game but i wish theyd add some variations to the LIs reactions/actions.

OH... another thing would be more consequences PLEASE.. its kind of whack to me that you can just 'romance' all of them no problem gfdgdf I want robin to get angry or colder if you abuse them /use them as your little trauma dump station. Or when you outright sabotage her meager attempt to earn money.

I want Whitney to have some kind of reaction when you keep beating them down again and again. I'm happy with my interpretation of an overly masochistic, down atrocious whitney but like.. could we get an event or reaction or smth??

Oh and of course: I'd like it if the game would stop assuming that the PCs actions are always inherently good. I'd love to actually be awful back to people. not necessarily in a "dom" way. but theres already hints of ambiguity and id like them to lean more into that. as if living in this morally bankrupt shithole wouldnt corrupt you in some way be so fr.

Plus, Its way more meaningful/compelling to be kind when you have a choice to be awful.

Like the game already does a good job at slowly assimilating you into this hypersexual world and the sexual violence. At first you think: This is awful, why would i ever do this to another person but oh- pinching this persons ass helps you regain control- and suddenly its not quite as easy anymore to not to fall into that same behavior (not impossible ofc but yknow. i found that really compelling. reminded me a lot of how VRising slowly makes you treat and speak about humans just as coldly as a vampire with its mechanics.)

Wow i cant stfu lmao but uhhh what else... ig more customization? would love more expressions/faces, an option to not smile. BETTER COLORS!! BLACK EYES!!! DARK BROWN HAIR TONES

GAAHHHH

this kind of just turned into me complaining and criticizing the game huh? oh well

[thekhoei]

my friend just introduced me into this recently. ive not dig in very much of Nixonverse but i have to talk about how Jesus in Vietnam grasps me

i peak in history classes when i learn about two modern wars in Vietnam during 1919-1975. the invasion of France in three lands of Indochina (we dont even bring up other places that is also colonized) and the infamous lost in that war crime game the USA played on the land of Ho Chi Minh. the big countries have been going to small lands, the "third world countries" and trying to kill, to assimilate us smaller nation as their modern-day slaves for centuries and centuries. and the fact that it still occurs today, tomorrow and no one knows when will this shit ended. Vietnam got out of the war only around 50 years ago (2025 is the 50th anniversary of our win against the US), and there are still people believe that it's Vietnam civil war, or this is communist propaganda (where the fuck are some people's sympathy anyway?). rumors about the third world war are on the verge of becoming true, although it's predicted to happen in one more millennia. shit being called "natural selection". my favorite thing to learn about history is how history is shaped to fit one's belief of a government, and in history classes, i love studying about revolution the most. not about Hitler, or any US president, not even Stalin (bad bitch i always heard shit abt you), but about smaller voices getting louder and louder, and how their fights mean to human rights. im talking like im belong to leftism or sth but no honestly, sometimes i have doubt about my so called "communist" government, too much that i do fear to be in jail if i try to crack one more joke about how shitty they act sometimes. more than a half of Vietnamese population are mad at our government too, i hear them talking sour everyday. from the early days of the existence of humanity til now, four horses of apocalypse have been wandering around, makes me shiver about how vague the concept of death is, yet the way its so significant in daily life.

i talked too much about war stuff above that i forgot the second big topic in the title "Jesus" and religion. im not a big fan of believing in any entity, although i dont deny their existence at all. i do follow Buddhism's belief everyday bc it has been a tradition in Vietnam, but ig its an exception because bro isn't qualified as God. Buddhism is considered as a atheism religion as i read somewhere. anyway talking about Jesus he is the ambiguous concept i learn through tv, books, western medias from younger ages, that sometimes i pray to him although i get scolded for acting offensively to a religion i do not belong too. besides that other thing relevant to him that i learn about is cults, and that shit is wild 💀 i still remember my teacher talking about how France used Portuguese pastors to get Vietnamese people believe in the theory "God allows me to invade your homeland 😜", and how Christians Vietnamese fight against them (my grandfather once joined the Vietnamese Christian to exchange info for the VC (Việt Cộng lmao)). wildest thing i ever learn in secondary school (we learn it in 7th grade which is the second year of secondary school in Vietnam and its around the age of 13) that got me into reddit posts about Jesus when i googled to learn more about the topic. im glad i pay attention to class because i did not know i would be too much invested in Vietnam history back in the day. Jesus is believed to be a propaganda of the US, and when i learn more about this God, it's a cultural shock for me. US government turned out to be the biggest cult in my eye (i love my American friends but honestly im against yall's government and i know yall do too)

anyway i think John Lennon would be invested into this idk

[askaniritual]

was thinking abt this as i fell asleep ln…it would b interesting to write sth abt how davekat in the epilogues is framed as sth that literally will not happen without external influence n is almost entirely defined by confinement or coercion. they hang out alone in the dark together all day and don’t do anything else. they don’t declare romantic feelings until dirk forces them. john watching them is what stops them from kissing. like it v much reads that observation and the wishes of others r specifically what is defining the nature of their relationship, even tho calliope does insist that there is a secret and ig “purer” version of their relationship that exists independently of the expectations others place on them

this isn’t like. shocking given how much of the epilogues r dedicated to doing this “oh you wanted to see the characters do this? well it’s making them miserable and they hate it” but the davekat stuff is especially weird to me because it feels like a reaction very specifically to fan dissatisfaction w how they were made canon (add scare quotes if u feel it is ambiguous ig) or a response to fan insistence that certain modes of representation (and even specific actions) r required to legitimize a relationship

[fleshdyk3]

like this sun conure by ben khorshidnam who is one of my favourite taxidermists of all time, who primarily specializes in birds (raptors), is still just that little bit off. he's been doing this for decades and is the definition of professional taxidermist, he knows birds inside and out, but parrots are just always so hard for taxidermists for some reason. i think the beak on this one is just the slightest bit extended, which is a super common problem in parrot taxidermy, plus the comfortably puffed up head and flat body is a bit unnatural. overall the pose and posture are great, it's just those two tiny things that even a professional bird taxidermist gets wrong

there's this one by degroottaxidermie on etsy where the face and feathers are great, but the wings are held weird and it makes the body look weirdly teardrop shaped rather than parrot shaped

there's this absolutely commendable effort by flocktaxidermy on ig that is like, so impressive bc most taxidermists wouldnt even attempt a plucked bird like this and it really does look very good. the effort to make the crop look full is really awesome imo. the issue is the balance - birds standing on one foot will position themselves so that the foot is directly under them, allowing them to balance. this one has the foot positioned where it would be if the bird were standing on both feet. the thigh of the scratching foot connects to the body kind of weirdly, but i can't really put this on the artist bc that's a part of the body that's usually covered with feathers and taxidermists take advantage of this to hide the more ambiguous anatomy that's harder to replicate, as well as the drying of the skin making it look a little weird. overall i really love this one though i think the face especially is adorable

this one by huffman taxidermy is another example of that overextension of the beak. the natural resting position of an amazon's beak makes a mostly smooth curve from head to beak without much of a disturbance near the nares. the eyes are also too small and a little too far back on the head. the pose is also a little too horizontal for a typical resting parrot, as they tend to stand very vertically compared to a lot of other birds. the wings are also positioned wrong in the context of the tail and body pose

i can't find the artist for this one but it's being sold on the taxidermy emporium & sons. this one is really gorgeous and looks super natural, and really the only issue is that the legs are stretched really high. a resting parrot's ankle should touch the same surface or be close to it that the back toes are touching

this one by eliana rose, who is another very experienced taxidermist, is *almost* perfect, but i think the legs and feet are just barely out of place. while a living parrot absolutely could stand just like this, i think it's just a little more likely for it to be holding its legs just a little bit closer to the keel

i don't have any criticisms for this one by df taxidermy honestly it's absolutely gorgeous. i would totally expect this guy to turn his head and look at me

something ive noticed is that a lot of taxidermists dont really know how to do parrots, even ones whose whole focus is birds. which is really fascinating to me. like the execution is just as good as any other bird that person does but theres always something slightly off its very interesting. i dont know if its bc im so closely acquainted with parrot body language to the point where anything slightly off looks weird to me and i just dont notice it with other birds or if its bc most taxidermists have much less experience with parrots than other birds but its always something i notice