HII PETALL I JUST GOT OUT OF ART BLOCK AND IDK WHO TO TELL SO LIKE YEA🥹🥹🥹 also my flight back from japan is at 11pm bro😭 im gonna reach home at like 6am bruh
lallalala
also my mom just learned what 67 is and she cant stop saying it im crying bro😭
OH MY GOD YOUR DRAWINGS ARE ADORABLE 🥹🥹💜 this is literal talent girl
I ACTUALLY LIKE DRAWING ASWELL!! but digital art respectfully makes me wanna kms oil paint, sketching, and watercolor is definitely for me 🤤 if u draw anything else PLEASE send them over!!! *cough* especially if wanda related *cough*
I WENT TO NARA PARK TODAY AND GOT BITTEN BY A DEER DUDE 😭😭 IT HURT SO BAD BUT LIKE THE DEERS ARE SO CUTE AND I THINK ITS KINDA MY FAULT I BOUGHT THE DEER CRACKERS LMFAOO
THANK YOU LOVELY 🥹💜
stop it i love ur pictures ESPECIALLY THE ONE WITH THE ELDERLY 😭💚
hope u enjoyyyy and please gimme feedback about it i really wanna go there!!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼
omg this is like so embarrassing to admit but like😪😪 everytime i get a tumblr notification i always click on it immediately hoping its you bru🥹🥹
AWE stop this is so adorable 🥹💜💜💜 it’s not embarrassing dw after i write and publish my work i always hope u like it especially if its a request 🫶🏼 *cough* i’ll let u be my proofreader if u want *cough*
TW; mentions of past SA, trauma/ptsd, smoking, vulnerability, self blame, dark themes, ANGST
request here
tags: @ilovemilfs-z
the decorated calendar on the kitchen wall felt like a countdown of things lost.
a week had passed since that night, two, three, then a month. you felt as if there were pieces of you being broken down, however memories didn’t waver.
every morning followed the same script. you wake up and feel that familiar, crushing weight on your chest. wanda was always peacefully asleep beside you, but it still felt like there was something missing.
you would then carefully adjust yourself, prepare a “distracted smile”—the kind that suggested you were thinking about work, maybe an item you forgot to add to the grocery list; rather than the memory of someone else’s hands you didn’t want, the voice you weren’t familiar with—it all just wouldn’t leave your head, like a song stuck in your mind but it’s a nightmare rather than a tune.
wanda, for her part, was being patient, she knew you were stressed—or so you’d state, so she took a step back for your own sake.
“you’re picking at your food again,” she remarked one night. she was leaning against the counter with a mug in her hand, her posture was elegant—you didn’t know if you admired or envied that in her. the soft glow of the under-cabinet lighting complimented the delicate waves of her auburn hair as her skin carried a hint of gold. to anyone else, she looked relaxed and neutral, but to you—she looked like a beautiful quant painting. wanda tilted her head, waiting for a reply.
“i’m just not hungry, wands”
you lied, pushing off a piece of pasta with the tip of your fork. the lie felt like a burning coal in your mouth, as if you’re so close to just spitting the truth along with a few words you know you’d regret sooner or later.
“i think im coming down with something, a lingering cold maybe,”
you said, following with a fake cough. wanda slightly rolled her eyes—she knew you were lying, she knew something was up, but it didn’t feel like her to push you to the brink of spilling out words. wanda moved towards you, her footsteps silent on the hardwood floor.
when she reached to touch your forehead, you didn’t pull away—it would be too obvious, but your entire body went rigid.
“a fever..?”
wanda muttered softly, “that’s odd.. your temperatures fine.” she stated, pulling her hand away.
“stress.. it’s stress, maybe,” you choked out, you felt her gaze on your back—heavy and searching, you knew she could feel the jagged edges of your emotions.
she was an empath—always have been. she didn’t need to read your mind to know the colors of your soul or the depth of your mind; but she did feel your presence—you, whom shifted from a warm, steady gold—to a fractured, cold grey.
she did respect your privacy, no matter how close and intertwined you both were, she knew how much you valued your personal space. she waited for you to come to her, however not realizing the weight you carried was too heavy to move.
that night, you layed in bed staring blankly at the ceiling, wanda was beside you, her breathing deep and rhythmic.
usually, the sound was an anchor. tonight, it was like a reminder of the intimacy you were now terrified of. you felt like an imposter in your own life. wearing a skin that isn’t yours, a body you didn’t own, and a soul you couldn’t fix alone.
you wanted to scream till your throat was raw, but every time you opened your mouth, the shame sewed it back shut.
you told yourself you were protecting her, you told yourself if you just didn’t say it out loud—it’d stop being true. a few moments had passed that felt like dreadful hours. you couldn’t sleep—even if you wanted to, you decided it was best to cool off in the balcony with a few cigarettes.
you turn your head to the bedside table and reach your hand out to the drawer where you hid your cigarettes from wanda. you promised you’d stop for her a few months back but it felt like they were calling out your name again.
the floors let out creaking sounds as you made your way to the balcony, your fingers gripped the cigarette box like your life depended on it; carefully, you open the glass door as not to wake wanda.
the warm breeze of the night felt like an immediate hug from mother nature, you fiddle with the lighter in your hand as if hesitating wether to do it or not.
you take a deep breath before lighting the cigarette between your fingers and take one, long puff.
it felt quite euphoric, like a feeling your body hates but craves every minute, you take another puff, and another, and another. it felt like a slow loosening, warmth spreading across your body, your thoughts finally slowed down and it’s like the world finally stopped for once, you felt relaxed, but the vibe suddenly shifted—like a cold energy trickled down your spine.
“i thought you promised you’d stop.”
you heard a voice from behind you, wanda. you immediately try hiding the box in your pocket and put out the cigarette at once, but wanda deliberately takes the box from your hand and places it on the table.
“you’re lying to me,” wanda hums as she leans on the balcony railing.
“i’m sorry—the cigarettes just—“
“i’m not talking about cigarettes, i’m talking about you, detka.”
you look up at wanda, but she was already looking at you first with that expression, the same one where you feel like you want to tell her everything but nothing for her own sake, to protect her.
“i’m not lying, wanda!” you snap at her suddenly, and as much as that stung her, her demeanor remained quiet and poised. “i understand you’re stressed, dove. but i don’t want you to carry whatever’s going on alone”
wanda mutters, she tries putting a strand of your hair behind your ear but you flinch at the sudden gesture. “nothings going on, i’m fine” you state, looking away from her. there was a few moments of silence, before wanda mutters; “i’d believe that if you weren’t so afraid of me.”
a sudden wave of coldness fills the atmosphere, and the tension was so thick even the sharpest knife couldn’t cut through.
“afraid of you?” you ask—however the question wasn’t exactly for wanda, but not for you either. “why would you even think that!?” you’re voice was clearer now.
wanda scoffs as if she can’t really tell if you’re being serious or not.
“you flinch every time i get a few inches close to you. god—you can’t even go to sleep before me, you think i haven’t noticed you pretending?” wanda sighs “you’re afraid of me. admit it. you know what i’m capable of and you fear that—“ “—I DONT!” you shout back
“i’m not afraid of you, wanda!” you manage to choke out, but wanda rolls her eyes “again with the lies, detka! you know i dislike dishonesty.”
“it’s not a lie, how many times do i need to repeat myself”
you huff, the euphoria from the cigarette completely wiped away, replaced by a spike of unwanted adrenaline coursing through your body.
“why can’t you let things go, wanda? do you seriously need to pick at everything until it bleeds?” wanda didn’t flinch at your words, instead, she took a step closer to you. the air began to taste like ozone, sharp and electric.
“because i’m afraid of living with a stranger! for a month, i’ve felt you vibrating with terror. every time i enter a room you immediately look for the exit and every time i touch you, you pull away as if it burns.”
you bite your bottom lip, as much as you’d hate to admit, you knew what she said was true; no matter how much you try to hide it.
your eyes felt glossy and starting to puff, you try blinking repeatedly but it was no use. “and the worst part of all is that trying to reach out to you feels hopeless. no matter how much i try holding on to you, you just keep slipping through my fingers..”
wanda says start quivering as she looks to the ground. “if it’s me you truly fear, whether it’s my presence or abilities.. know that i would never hurt you, my angel. you are far too delicate for me to even think of hurting. the thought itself kills me, detka,” she spoke, you could feel yourself shatter on the inside. like something finally broke, you didn’t want to keep things from her. wanda knew you inside-out.
“it’s not that, wanda..” you managed to choke out through tears, “speaking about this feels like coughing out blood, i’ve already lost something but i fear of losing something worse. i can’t bear for you to see the stains he left behind..”
the confession didn’t come out as a scream; it was quiet, gut wrenching.
you finally collapsed to the ground, your back sliding down the balcony railing until you were curled into a ball on the cold floor.
the cigarette lay forgotten, smothering against the wood.
wanda’s breath hitched, a sharp—jagged sound. the air didn’t just turn cold, it went dead. the sound of wind and crickets leaving with no trace left behind. she didn’t rush you.
she didn’t use her magic to force a connection, it was raw.
instead, she knelt in front of you, her knees hitting the hardwood with a thud.
“stains?” she whispered, the word felt like it was pulled through broken shards of glass. “my love.. you think you are dirty?”
you couldn’t look at her, instead, you muttered “i can still feel it. every time you touch me, i feel his hands instead of yours. i try to ignore it but it still feels like permanent marks scattered around my body. i feel trapped under him and i can’t—“ your voice breaks, “i can’t get out…”
a sob broke though your throat, it was violent. you expected her to pull you into a hug, but she stayed back.
her hands shook violently against her lap, as if both anger and regret consumed her on the inside.
she was weeping too—not the elegant tears you were used to seeing, it was silent, a shaking grief.
“oh, my dove..” she whispered, “a shadow could never change the way i see your light.” her voice was thick with her sokovian accent.
“i love you, detka. not the ‘perfect’ or ‘untouched’ version of you. i love you. with every fractured piece. allow me to take the weight of that memory.”
with that said, you finally felt at ease. you knew this wasn’t going to be an easy journey, but you finally knew deep down that wanda wasn’t going to leave your side anytime soon.
@petalshaze I absolutely loved this but in a heart breaking way. So to clarify, someone didn't sexually force themselves on her if you get my drift. But they sexually touched her, like felt her up and such?
I'm sad you actually ended it there, because I'd kill for the rest of it, of yn telling wanda what happened, who the fuck it was, and Wanda comforting and reassuring her, but also being fucking raging and finding the scum who touched yn.
to be fair i wrote this without exactly thinking about the past/what actually happened with yn and wanted to mainly focus on the unstable and unspoken parts of their relationship, which is why i also made wanda kinda snap on reader 😭 im thinking of making a second part to make things clearer and maybe deliver a deeper meaning,
the bedroom was quiet, lit only by the soft glow of the bedside lamp.
you sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at your lap, your hands tracing the outer shape of your thighs. you weren’t convinced of their shape or size; they weren’t like the ones you see on social media—you thought.
a familiar sense of insecurity tightened in your chest, as if you wanted to escape your own body.
a soft rustle of fabric broke the silence; wanda shifted beside you, her head tilting as her empathetic senses picked up.
she didn't say a word at first.
instead, she slid closer, her warm body pressing against the side of yours.
"where has your mind gone, detka?" she whispered softly.
you shrugged, trying to pull away, suddenly hyper-aware of how your thighs pressed against the mattress.
"just... thinking,”
you murmured.
“i don't know—i hate how i look right now."
with a gentle but firm movement, she stretched her legs out and pulled your upper body down, guiding your head to rest comfortably in her lap.
before you could even protest, she shifted; resting her hands right where yours had just been, smoothly cupping the curve of your thighs.
"you’re hiding from me,"
wanda said softly, her fingers tracing slow, smooth circles against your skin.
a faint, comforting hum of scarlet energy flickered warmly under her touch.
"and you’re being unkind to someone i love very much."
"wanda, they're just..." you swallowed hard, looking away. "they're too big."
"—they are perfect," she cut you off instantly, her accent coming thick.
she leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek, then another right under your jaw.
her hands continued their caresses.
“they’re soft, they’re warm, and they’re yours."
she looked down at you, her green eyes filled with nothing but devotion.
"let me carry the weight, detka.." she whispered
“you’re too precious to think like that.”
she said—mostly sounding as if she was talking to herself.
sighing, you let your eyes close, the knot in your chest finally fading under the comfort of her touch.
japan is so freaking fun like omg im eating oysters and dango and oysters and oysters🤤 and i went to like an island where theres deer and DEERS ARE SO CUTE OMG LIKE😭😭
anyways ENOUGH ABOUT MEE HOW ARE YOU⁉️🥹
HI BEAUTIFUL!!!
i’m planning to go this summer actually!! AND I LOVE OYSTERS SM OMG i literally order a bucket for myself no one gets my love for them 🥹
THESE DEERS ARE ADORABLE OMG i love the way u picture them 😭😭
i’m good!! planning to take out the girl im talking to this fridayyy!!! 💜
(mind u i answered this 10 MINUTES AFTER U SENT THIS ASK BUT IT WOULDNT POST OMG.. still taking her out this weekend WOOO!!)
omg same i need to have keep inventory on everytime HAHA i freaking suck at minecraft but its so fun and OH MY GOD PETAL WHOS THE LUCKY WOMAN?? dude im so freaking happy for you 🥹🥹
STOP IT CAUSE HONESTLY SAME 😭😭
thankyouthankyou so much vivi 🥹💜 she’s honestly a really cute woman—few years older but we’re on the same page, she’s one of the most empathetic and adventurous people i’ve met … psst she also follows this blog 🤫🤫
apple swans??? my favorite fruit AND animal?? THATS SO CUTE 🥹🥹 funny thing is i actually tried making fruit based animals a few weeks ago .. all i can say is let me stick to writing 🫠
hey petal 🥹🥹 this isnt like my usual asks but uh lately i’ve been feeling kinda insecure about my thighs gulp so liek could i request a fic or just a drabble about mommy!wanda comforting insecure!reader about their insecurities 🥹
you dont need to write this if you dont want to but like yea okay 👌
hi my sweet girl!!
it’s okay; my asks & dms are open to all respectful topics 💜
i understand you, you can sometimes look at certain areas in your body u wanna change but trust me the flaws only exist in your head, so please don’t be hard on yourself you’re too precious
i’ll be writing the drabble, i’m sorry i haven’t been really interested in writing these days but i’ll make sure to publish this drabble when i can—it’ll most likely be posted in these two days but no promises,
psst.. check in time.. omg i’ve been reading more books nowadays and i just finished the seven husbands of evelyn hugo and im starting on girl in pieces soon!! i’ve been playing way more minecraft too its so fun broo
anyways enough about me HOW RU PETALL
girl oh my god, i’ve read girl in pieces in 2023 that literally broke me 🥹 just prepare urself a box of tissues nearby i didn’t think id cry BUT I DID
MINECRAFT IS GENUINELY ONE OF MY FAVORITES HONESTLY!! i suck at survival though 🥹✌🏼
but i’m all good!! might’ve been distracted for a little since i’ve met someoneee.. we’re currently in our talking stage and there might be plans soon!
warnings; DARK!! fic, medical gaslighting, stockholm syndrome, kidnapping/abduction, psychological manipulation, wanda slightly being a perv.
let me know if i missed something
the basement was cold, and the concrete floor felt unforgivably rough against your skin, you could almost feel its chill seep through your flesh and directly into your bones.
you take a look around, expecting a window—an escape, though you were only met with a giant steel door that’d weigh hundreds of tons, thousands, or so you’d thought.
gathering all your strength, you get up to run towards it, then wincing at the sudden pain that shot to your leg, making you collapse back down with a frown.
before you could try encouraging yourself to get up again, you heard the lock click. your heartbeat increases rapidly, fear was about to consume you whole before a familiar presence— wanda, steps in.
you hadn’t realized it was her until a few seconds later. you felt a pang of relief flow inside you, as if its washing the fear that was previously about to eat you alive—literally.
“relax, detka.” she said, her voice calm with a hint of sternness that only bought back fear.
“where am i?” you managed to choke out, “what is this place?” she looked down at you, her expression soft, but her eyes dangerously cold. “you are in my clinical facility, somewhere.. safe. infact, it’s the only place you need to be” wanda says through a faint, twisted smile.
without even giving you time to process what she just said, she places a warm bowl of soup and bread on a nearby wooden stool. the smell almost overwhelming in the best way, making your stomach grumble; you didn’t realize how starving you are until that moment.
without a second thought, you lunged at the plate, eating with that desperate, messy hunger like a starving kitten on the street.
wanda’s hand shot out to your wrist, keeping a surprisingly firm grip with such strength you didn’t know she had in her. “tsk tsk” she tutted, her eyes glowing like a warning. “there are rules here.” wanda taunts “rules meant for pets like you—“ she boops your nose “—to follow,” she continues
“did you think i’d let you indulge whenever you pleased?”
“but—but i’m hungry!” you whimpered, trying to wriggle your wrist out of her tightening grip. wanda didn’t let go, she took the plate and moved it right out of your reach.
“i know you are. but in this facility, you’ll only eat when when i allow it. every bite is like a reward from me, do you understand? rules are put to insure your manners are maintained.”
wanda says, her voice offers no warmth, no softness in it anymore.
you stared at the food pitifully, then up to her cold, calculating face, only then did you realize it was best to just nod knowingly. “i asked you a question,” wanda says, her voice growing with stern, “i expect an answer.”
she tightens her grip, “yes! yes i understand, wanda!” you wince, her manipulation was only beginning, and hunger was the first tool she used to mold you. “doctor.” she corrects. “tell me, when are you allowed to eat?” wanda asks “when..when you give me permission” you whispered.
wanda smiled, a hauntingly, beautiful smile. “good girl.” she patted your head, loosening, then removing her grip completely “you may eat.”
you carefully cut a piece of bread, hesitantly feeding yourself slowly to test the waters, after she showed no hostility nor aggressiveness, you continue eating more desperately this time. you finish off your bread and drink your soup, finishing them them both in a matter of seconds.
“now,” wanda murmured, “let’s get you cleaned up.” her fingers tangled into your hair as she helped you up, leading you into a room.
“this is called the cleansing protocol.” wanda states, looking at the steamy bathtub, then back at you,
“it’ll wash away all the grime that the world left on you.”
wanda states whilst checking the water temperature, “strip.” she commanded.
you froze in place, fiddling with your fingers,
“i will…i’d just like to have some privacy.”
wanda’s eyes shoot towards you, raising an eyebrow, “privacy?” her lips curl as she steps closer to you, cupping one of your cheeks.
her hands were surprisingly warm, you thought; as if gentle warmth hid beneath her calculated exterior.
“privacy is not necessary, detka.” she whispered, drawing small circles on your cheekbones; she presses her nose against your pulse point, taking one long, shaky breath of your sweet scent, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before pulling back.
“i need to monitor your recovery, make sure nothing goes wrong during your healing process..” she continues “and make sure there aren’t more..scars.”
she didn’t mean actual scars, no. she meant the ones where it hid beneath your exterior, the scars left on you mentally, by the unforgiving war.
wanda stopped her fingers from drawing any more circles, red wisps of magic formed around her fingers like piercing crimson needles.
“you trust me, don’t you, milaya? you know i don’t want anything but the best for you.” she murmurs with a sweet, condensing tone, but what hid beneath it was the complete opposite.
your head felt heavy and your thoughts slowed; slowed so much you couldn’t even tell if they were even there anymore.
“yes.” you whispered; like your mouth had a mind of its own.
“good girl.” wanda praises softly, taking off your clothes and looking at your body like it’s a masterpiece—an artwork performed with delicacy, and the hands of a god.
“what a doll.” wanda says, she doesn’t say it directly to you, but not to herself either. it’s like her thoughts controlled her words for a moment.
she traces the small cuts scattered around your body with the tip of her finger and murmurs to herself how perfect they look, how she wants to fix them, to fix you.
she helps you get on the warm bathtub. you feel your body finally relaxing as soon as the warm water touches it.
wanda picks a soft sponge, soaking it with the warm water and squeezes it gently in your shoulder blade. using her other hand, she slowly slides it into your hair to tilt your head back, watching how the water drips from your neck, and down to your chest where a few droplets have gone cold, reddening your nipples from how sensitive they were.
if wanda didn’t have the self control she currently has, she would’ve taken you right here, right now.
“i am the only one authorized enough to touch you.” she taunts, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tilting your head back further.
“if i find out you’ve been selfishly seeking seeking relief when im away..” she warns, you knew she wouldn’t be completely gone, the furthest she could go ‘away’ from you is just the other room.
“well…you can recall how uncomfortable you felt on that cold floor.” wanda said, her voice was stern, sharp—so sharp it could cut through a room thick with tension.
as she continued pressing the sponge against your body, you realized deep in your heart that she wasn’t just washing your skin, no.
she was erasing who you used to be, shaping you into someone—something else completely. wanda was precise with her actions, not physically, mentally.
she wanted to ruin you for anyone else. and she was taking her sweet time doing so, one treatment at a time.
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