#To acquire something is to come into possession of it
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mage-ical-character-person · 19 hours ago
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Yes!! I love discussing this stuff!
And I highly recommend getting into staring at the funny meme man and analyzing his soul if you like Puzzles’ poor communication skills because like…
Okay, Four is without a doubt better at empathy than Puzzles. But it doesn’t seem to come all that naturally to him. It’s something he has to actively think about, and he often forgets to do that.
Using the new vocabulary acquired from your Puzzles Empathy post, I’d say he has similarly low affective empathy, but better cognitive empathy due to more experience with actually interacting with people and having friends.
It’s still something he struggles with, though, especially with Three (who often is actively covering up his emotions), and Mario (who is just kind of hard to take seriously a lot of the time)
Again, while Four’s not nearly as bad, Puzzles isn’t the only one tormenting people for content.
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Mario’s used to this. I don’t know if that makes things worse or better
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...
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AAAHHHH
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This moment, this parallel in particular, it gets me so bad...
And just… okay, so the thing that first sent me down the rabbit hole of Four’s communication and empathy issues is his dynamic with Three, and how Four is simultaneously a total sweetheart and kind of a jerk. I think specifically what sparked it for me is the “SMG3’s Bomb Cafe” episode, and digging into that more and sort of realizing it’s not just that he’s used to being rivals and doesn’t quite recognize when their usual banter escalates and becomes genuinely hurtful.
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But also that… while that was part of it and they do enjoy messing with each other. Four was trying to help. More than that, Four recognized that Three needed help with the cafe and wanted him to swallow his pride and actually admit it!
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He recognized only part of how Three was feeling and ended up making things worse. I love that for him. I think not knowing when he’s gone too far is a very fitting character flaw for the meme man.
and Four’s FACE when Three was literally sacrificing his son just…
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He just looks so confused. I don’t even know.
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ALSO WITH THE PUZZLES FEELING LIKE THE BAD ENDING TO IGBP!! First of all just the fact that Puzzles has no one to pull him out of destructive spirals, no support system like SMG4 does. BUT ALSO
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HE’S EVEN GOT THE GOOP! THE ELDRITCH GOOP AND WE SEE IT RIGHT AFTER HE LOSES LEGGY (HIS ONLY “FRIEND”) AND AAAAH!
AND WHILE FOUR WAS ALREADY BEING A JERK AND SPIRALING BEFORE HE WAS POSSESSED BY THE KEYBOARD AND THE GOOP, HE STILL WAS VERY MUCH POSSESSED
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AND JUST THE QUESTION OF IF SOMETHING SIMILAR IS GOING ON WITH PUZZLES IF HE’S NOT ACTING ENTIRELY ON HIS OWN BECAUSE THE PUPPET IMAGERY!!
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WHY PUPPET IMAGERY WHY SO SIMILAR TO THE BIT IN CREATIVE CONTROL BUT WITH PUZZLES BEING ON STRINGS THIS TIME??
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Why are they so parallels… what does it mean..
sooo…
WOTFI
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THEY DIDNT ADDRESS ANY OF THE PARALLELS AND THEN THEY
INSTITUTIONALIZED HIM
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I’m so mad about this. I’m so mad. I’m so mad.
because okay. Okay remember this.
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His super dramatic flinch here and there was that post going around like “I wonder what happened in Mr Puzzles’ childhood to make him flinch like that“
CHILD PUZZLES DOES THE SAME THING
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EVERY TIME MEGGY/LEGGY APPROACHES HIM HE FLINCHES. HE COWERS. EVEN OUTSIDE OF THE POTENTIAL CONCLUSION HE WAS BEATEN, SOMEONE GENUINELY CARING ABOUT HIM IS SUCH A FOREIGN CONCEPT THAT HE ASSUMES THE ONLY REASON ANYONE WOULD GET CLOSE IS TO HARM HIM.
AND HE’S NOT EVEN WRONG?! THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS?
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THEY INSTITUTIONALIZED HIM HE IS TIED TO A TABLE IN A PADDED ROOM. THEY APPEALED TO HIS HUMANITY AND FOUND THE GOOD IN HIM AND THEY USED IT AGAINST HIM.
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YOU THINK THATLL HELP HIM? TARGETING THE MOST VULNERABLE PART OF HIMSELF AND GETTING HIM SENT TO AN ASYLUM?
AND IT SUCKS BECAUSE I WAS LEGITIMATELY ENJOYING THE EPISODE BEFORE THAT! I was having fun until that ending. That’s literally the one thing I didn’t like. The scene with Kid Puzzles was really well done. Everybody’s outfits were so cool. IGBP flesh blobs were there that was really cool
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but then
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I hate this. Genuinely worse than killing him off to me. It just feels wrong
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unravelingwires · 10 months ago
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Acquired
My தங்கச்சி thought that taking things across the multiverse was wrong, as you were permanently removing matter from one universe and adding it to another. It was theft, she said. Thankfully, she didn’t know about my stash, so she couldn’t disapprove of it.
A pair of jeans. A piece of the 527th element, lab made, from the universe with the best snow in the multiverse. Armor that was meant to drape over a thousand-limbed species. அம்மா’s ring, no longer worn. The coating of a sessile species the precise color of the inside of a star.
They were everything. They meant nothing. I haven’t decided yet.
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merchen-aeravellae · 2 months ago
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A Yandere Through Time
Yandere Time Traveler x Royal Reader
Warnings: stalking, kidnapping, forced confinement, obsession
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No one knows who created it, but every owner of the mysterious mirror has met a fate so tragic it chills anyone to the bone. The mirror appeared out of nowhere, wandering from hand to hand, from life to life. At first glance, it seems like a blessing, but in reality, it is a curse in disguise. If you cross paths with it, beware: it offers you your deepest desire, but the price is your sanity.
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Yandere Time Traveler who is dedicated to collecting antiques, a passion that has been passed down through generations in his family since the famous Rosa Era. Each member of his lineage has their own personal museum. His collection not only includes legally acquired pieces but also artifacts that the world does not know exist and are in his possession.
Yandere Time Traveler who is mainly dedicated to purchasing items from the Roja Era, not because it is his favorite time period, but because his favorite person lived during that time. The fifth child of a king who ruled what is now his city, the castle where they lived still stands proudly on the outskirts of the city, now converted into a museum that he visits weekly as a way to be close to his beloved
Yandere Time Traveler who has been intrigued by your story since childhood: a member of the royal family beloved by his family, the common people, and even his enemies. One day, you disappeared from your own home, and no one ever heard from you again. Everyone searched exhaustively for decades but never found you. A group of people tried to exploit the situation by impersonating you to gain all the luxuries and privileges that rightfully belonged to you. Only one person resembled you both in appearance and manner of speaking. The only problem was that nearly 70 years had passed since your disappearance, and this person was too young to be you. In the end, their husband had to clarify that they were suffering from mental issues, and as a result, no one took them seriously.
Yandere Time Traveler who feels like a lunatic: how could he be in love with someone who lived nearly two hundred years ago? However, he has always felt a connection to you, and the only way he finds to be near you is by acquiring all your belongings through illegal auctions. Selling and buying items related to you is prohibited in his country; museums tirelessly search for all your belongings across the continent to display them alongside those of your family. But he is faster and acquires everything before the museums can get their hands on it.
Yandere Time Traveler who, of all your belongings, has searched the black markets most fervently for your hat. In the Roja Era, royalty did not use crowns to show their lineage; instead, they used special and unique hats to demonstrate their noble position. The hats of your sisters and brothers are in the castle museum, but yours was never found. The theory is that you wore it the day you disappeared, and wherever you are, the hat is with you.
Yandere Time Traveler who acquired a mirror from an antique shop during a sale. He didn't know what era it was from, but its beauty convinced him to place it in the room dedicated to you. The mirror carried a dark legend: all its owners ended up losing their sanity or disappearing without a trace. However, he was not intimidated, believing it was just people's tales. He was sure you would have been fascinated by it, imagining you using it to admire your reflection while trying on clothes.
Yandere Time Traveler who, one night, woke up startled by strange noises coming from a nearby room. With silent steps, he approached to discover the source of the sound, but his concern grew when he realized the noises were coming from the room dedicated to his beloved. He immediately thought someone had broken in to steal something from his valuable collection. Wasting no time, he grabbed a bat he had purchased a couple of weeks ago, perfect for defending himself against an intruder. Upon entering the room, he found no one, but the mirror looked different. Strange figures were forming on its surface, and he couldn't resist the temptation to touch it. It was as if the mirror was calling to him. However, the moment his fingers brushed against the glass, he lost consciousness.
Yandere Time Traveler who woke up with a terrible headache. As he opened his eyes, he realized he was lying on a wooden bed that creaked with the slightest movement. The room was unfamiliar, filled with objects that didn’t match his home. The walls were made of wood. Various items adorned the space, from wooden toys to old tools, along with portraits and simple household decorations. As his vision adjusted, he noticed a small window allowing the morning sunlight to illuminate the room. The smell of wax, burnt wood, and a faint scent of food filled his nose.
Yandere Time Traveler who panicked. He tried to get out of the bed to figure out where he was, but only succeeded in worsening his headache from the sudden movement. He heard footsteps coming toward him. Fear took over as he desperately looked for something to defend himself with. But before he could act, the door opened, and an old woman entered the room, calmly looking at him.
Yandere Time Traveler who discovered that he was in the house of an elderly couple. They had found him unconscious at their doorstep and, out of compassion, had taken care of him ever since. Maybe he had gone mad because nothing made sense. The date on the calendar in their house showed that it was 200 years before his own time. It wasn’t possible that he had traveled to the past. Maybe he had hit his head, and all of this was just a delusion, a hallucination caused by the injury. Perhaps he was in a hospital, in a coma, dreaming a nonsensical fantasy.
Yandere Time Traveler, unable to find a way back to his own time, was now trying to adjust to his new life. The elderly couple who had taken him in gave him work in their small antique shop and allowed him to live in their home. In return, he had to handle the heavier tasks, like feeding the animals, repairing anything that broke, and keeping the shop in order.
Yandere Time Traveler was organizing some items in the shop when he heard the bustle of a crowd outside. The voices and shouting filled the street, but he didn’t even bother looking out the window. He didn’t care what celebration or festival was taking place outside. Everything went quiet for a while until the shop bell rang. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone, but it was his job. With a fake smile, he greeted the customers who had entered.
Yandere Time Traveler was startled to see a familiar face. It wasn’t someone he had met in person, but someone he had seen in portraits—it was the crown princess of Adrionia. Adrionia was the name of his city when the monarchy still existed. Although he knew he was in the Roja Era, he never imagined he would meet a member of the royal family in a place like this. The heir was about to speak when a pair of voices interrupted from the hallway in front of them.
Yandere Time Traveler who was shocked to see the rest of the royal siblings there. His heart swelled with longing; if they were here, it meant that you must also be here. He couldn't help but search for you among the crowd, but he couldn’t find you. His hope deflated into sadness, until someone emerged from one of the back hallways, holding a trinket in their hands.
Yandere Time Traveler who wanted to die right then and there—you were standing before him, the love of his life. As you asked your sister to buy the trinket for you, he couldn’t help but admire you. You were even more beautiful in person; the paintings didn’t do you justice. He wanted to leap over the counter to be closer to you, but he knew if he did that, he'd be thrown into the dungeon. All he could do was watch you from where he stood, his heart pounding at a thousand miles an hour.
Yandere Time Traveler who felt you so close, yet so unattainable. As he rang up your sister’s purchase, he never took his eyes off you for a second. He watched you with a mix of fascination and desperation, knowing that this might be the only time he’d ever be so near you. And just as you had appeared, you left. His world crumbled with each step you took toward the exit, moving further away from him.
Yandere Time Traveler who couldn’t stop thinking about you after that encounter. His heart filled with yearning to see you again. Now that he had seen you in the flesh, he couldn't allow everything to end with just one brief meeting. He needed to see you once more, needed you in his life in a more permanent, closer way. But he knew he couldn’t just approach you without a plan—and for that, he needed to scheme carefully.
Yandere Time Traveler who decided to use his knowledge of the past to his advantage. He began calling himself a prophet and would go out to the town square to “predict” events he already knew would happen soon. At first, people looked at him with skepticism, and many called him crazy. But when his predictions started coming true with eerie accuracy, everything changed. Word spread throughout the kingdom about his visions, and people gathered in the square to hear him speak. It wasn’t long before the royals heard of him and summoned him to the castle. Everything was going according to plan.
Yandere Time Traveler who was tested by the court, but he was ready for whatever challenge came his way. He “predicted” the betrayal of a court member, and a week later, a respected and seemingly unblemished noble was discovered stealing large sums from the royal treasury. The impressed kings offered him a permanent position at the castle. His goal was now within reach. Every day, he grew closer to you. He knew you better than you knew yourself and was confident that soon you would fall in love with him.
Yandere Time Traveler who, over time, befriended the royal family, but you were different. You seemed deeply distrustful of him. Every time he tried to approach you, you fled. If he entered a room through the door, you left through the window. The more frequent these encounters became, the more frustrated he felt. He left you gifts, but you discarded them. The letters he sent, you burned in the fireplace. And every time he tried to speak to you, you ignored him. Couldn’t you see that destiny was bringing you together? Why did you run from him as if he carried some contagious disease?
Yandere Time Traveler who knew he had to be patient, but every moment away from you felt like a blow to the heart. Then, during a casual meeting with your brothers, everything he had worked for unraveled. Without meaning to, your brother let it slip that you were seeing someone in secret—a mere guard, someone far beneath him. He had to keep his composure; he couldn’t afford to break his facade in front of them. But all he wanted to do was rush out and bury that filthy man deep in the earth.
Yandere Time Traveler who now understood everything. You had always rejected his efforts because you already had someone in your life. The idea of you being with someone else was unbearable. Every touch, every word shared between you and that guard ignited a wildfire of jealousy within him. Just thinking about it made him feel sick. He needed to devise a new plan, so he decided to accuse your lover of trying to seduce you to rise in high society. The kings were furious with both you and your lover. The execution seemed imminent. However, something unexpected happened. On your knees, you begged your parents, saying it was all a misunderstanding. At other times, he would have loved to hear your voice, but at that moment, he wished you'd be quiet. You were ruining his plan and breaking his heart as he watched you plead for another man.
Yandere Time Traveler had to leave the castle for a few days; the whole situation was overwhelming him, and he feared he might do something that would compromise his facade. He returned to the shop where he had worked at the beginning. The old man greeted him cheerfully, happy to see him after such a long time. While the older man talked about everything that had happened in his absence, he wandered around the shop, looking at the new antiques that had arrived, hoping to distract his mind. Suddenly, something caught his attention: a mirror that seemed too familiar, sitting in a corner. He now knew how it had ended up in the couple's home. As he stared at it, an idea formed in his mind: "If I couldn't have you in your world, maybe I could in mine." With that thought in mind, he decided to buy the mirror, flashing a disturbing smile.
Yandere Time Traveler returned to the castle with his new treasure, eager to figure out how it worked as soon as possible, though it was easier said than done. It was during a fit of rage that he grabbed the bat he had brought with him to smash objects and vent his frustration. You had convinced your parents that your lover was a good man, and they had allowed you to marry him. He should have been that man, the one who would marry you, but his place had been taken. After breaking several objects in his fury, he left the bat leaning against the mirror and stormed out of the room, not noticing that the reflection in the mirror had begun to change.
Yandere Time Traveler who could only watch as you prepared for your wedding felt as if you were mocking him. Unable to bear it any longer, he retreated to his room to devise a plan. He would not let anyone else have you. Upon entering, he found something magnificent: the portal in the mirror was in all its glory. He gazed at the bat and suddenly, the idea of how it worked came to him. He had been so foolish; the answer was so simple, and he hadn’t seen it before. Now, you would be where you belonged, by his side, living in his own time, where you could never escape.
Yandere Time Traveler who sent you a letter pretending to be your brother to get you to the library. If you had known it was him, you never would have gone to meet him. The mirror was positioned in such a way that you couldn’t see it at a glance, and he would ambush you from behind. Hearing your footsteps approaching down the hallway, you entered and called out for your brother. He stood momentarily stunned, witnessing something he never thought he’d see: you were wearing your hat, the object he had longed to see all his life. But that feeling quickly faded when, angrily, you yelled at your "brother" to come out of hiding because you had a date with your fiancé and needed to leave immediately. The mention of the other man and the fact that you wore something as significant as your hat just to see his rival gave him the strength to push you into the portal, following closely behind.
Yandere Time Traveler who woke up on a floor that seemed familiar, was back in his own home. He watched as you lay unconscious beside him, and since he had already gone through the experience of the portal, he managed to get up before you. He reinforced all exits to ensure you couldn’t escape and then let you rest in what would now be his shared bedroom. Hours later, he heard a blood-curdling scream. He rushed to his room, but you were not there. He found you in the room he had dedicated exclusively to you. You tried to escape, but seeing such a room had frightened you so much that you couldn’t help but scream.
Yandere Time Traveler who pretended everything was fine for a while. You stayed at home while he went to work. It didn’t matter that you did nothing all day; he believed your hands weren’t meant for work. He preferred to do everything himself to keep you content. One night, upon returning from work, he noticed something strange: the house felt too silent. Although he was convinced there was no way you could have escaped, his home felt empty. He searched every corner, but there was no sign of your presence. As he pondered where you could be, his gaze fell on the mirror.
Yandere Time Traveler who had underestimated you. You had managed to find a way to use the mirror while he was away, but he already had an idea of where you might be. Using the mirror, he traveled 70 years after the date of your disappearance. True to his assumption, he quickly found you; everyone knew you for trying to claim that you were the missing royal member, even though that was now impossible. He approached you slowly from behind while you were talking to a couple of people, trying to convince them of your identity. He placed an arm around your shoulders, noticing how your skin prickled. He was too angry to care about the effect he was having on you. With a fake worried look, he explained to the people that you were his fiancée, but that you were suffering from dementia. The people left, leaving the two of you alone.
Yandere Time Traveler who took you back to his time, determined not to make the same mistake. With the bat he had used earlier, he gathered all his strength and smashed the mirror into pieces while you screamed for him to stop. His rage was relentless; he hit the mirror so many times that it became irreparable. When he finished, he embraced you while you cried out loud, knowing that your only escape had been destroyed. He tried to comfort you, whispering soothing words, but his attempts at calm only had the opposite effect. Every whisper and every caress only heightened your desperation, reminding you that you were now trapped with a lunatic, with no hope of returning.
Yandere Time Traveler "No matter what era you're in, I will always find a way to find you."
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year ago
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hellooo, i hope you’re doing well! would you want to write a fic where at some point aaron steals readers gum out of her mouth? this is such a random thought and i’m so sorry if this sounds weird (now that i’ve written it down and not only thought about it, it seems very weird, sorry!!!!!!), but i kind of feel like this is something he’d do when making out lol and it obviously catches her off guard the first time he does it 😁
according to plan
omg i'm putting a jealous!aaron take on this 🤭 cw; suggestiveness, established relationship, bau!reader, detective being a creep, heavy on the kissing, possessive/jealous!aaron 🦋
aaron's just about had it.
it started out as lingering stares, beginning at your face before sweeping all along your form. next, the insistent eagerness to partner up with you. and now the detective, who's name wasn't worth remembering, was at your backside, itching to get as close to you as he possibly could. any closer, he would have you pressed against the bulletin board in front of the two of you.
you were politely trying to explain the physical, common characteristics between the victims, how unsubs sometimes had a specific type and that's why they chose to acquire them. naturally he had asked you the most stupid, simplest question; just another excuse to speak to you.
all day, aaron had been silently seething, a mere bystander. but as he joined and saw the sight before him, his fists clenched so tightly his fingernails were digging into the palms of his hands. enough was enough.
"do you understand now?" you naively asked, a pleased expression forming on your face when the detective nodded in confirmation. unlike aaron, you had been unaware of his ongoing actions.
"is there any way i can repay you?" he questioned smoothly, his eyes yet again dropping. this time, the attentiveness is drawn to your lips.
"no," you shake your head, your focus already directed on readjusting one of the displayed photos, the gum in your mouth producing a pop. "i'm just glad i could be of some assistance."
it's a bad habit of yours, snapping your gum too loudly. it's hard to not notice it. but fortunately, the brought focus is about to work completely in aaron's favor.
aaron calls your name, tipping his head to the side as a signal for you to come. you abide, leaving the detective right where he is and as a result, he subtly glares at aaron for interrupting his time with you and his advances. aaron steps aside to let you pass, and as soon as you do, he shoots daggers right back.
truthfully, he's extremely lucky that's all aaron did.
you follow him to one of the empty interrogation rooms, a small trek away from everyone else. once inside, aaron swiftly shuts the door behind you.
"what's-"
aaron's lips are on yours before you can finish your sentence, causing you to gasp slightly in surprise, throwing your arms around his neck and instantly kissing him back.
it's all too easy to submit to aaron, allowing him to guide you and push you back against the door. he crowds you against it, his breath hot and heavy in your mouth, his hands exploring every curve of your body and more. every inch of you, is consumed by him.
the kiss is heated, desperate, and in the back of your mind, you distantly wonder why the suddenness - what has gotten into him? but with the pure vigor he's kissing you with, your brain had gone fuzzy; you were too consumed by the kiss to dwell on the potential reason why, or did you care.
aaron's large hands slide down your back, landing on and promptly squeezing your ass - hard. you gasp again, and aaron uses the sudden part of your lips to push his tongue into your mouth, sliding against your own. he can taste it - the flavor of your gum - and it only encourages him further, deepening the kiss.
you can't help let out a small moan, which aaron immediately swallows up from you, mindful of your volume within the current setting. your fingers find the nape of his neck, weaving and gripping onto his hair tight.
the kiss itself is wet and sloppy - all according to plan. and once the mint flavor fully invades his mouth, aaron forces himself to pull away.
and before it becomes impossible not to.
your eyes are wide as you look up at him. your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss. you let out a breathless laugh, chest heaving up and down. "wow. i..."
you trail off, your tone leading into more or less a question. aaron leans in once more, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to your lips this time. "just missed you."
you take instant note of the slight, new shift of his jaw, which prompts you to realize something from your mouth is missing.
you gape at him, jaw dropping a bit in astonishment. "wait, did you take my gum?"
aaron's way of a response is opening the door, a small nudge of his head gesturing for you to exit. "after you."
you give him a confused look, yet your eyes are still dark and lined with arousal, before heading back to the others. a deep exhale leaves you as you walk away, an attempt to cool down before facing anyone else.
this time, when the detective's stare returns to you both, aaron's the one loudly snapping the gum.
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plutosunshine · 15 days ago
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Where you will find your healing?
The ruler of the 12th house
The 12th house in astrology is often called the "house of the unconscious," dealing with themes of spirituality, isolation, and hidden realms of the psyche. However, it is also deeply connected to healing—particularly on a spiritual and psychological level. Healing in the 12th house is not about the physical body but the soul, mental health, and the release of karmic burdens. It's where we confront and resolve deep-seated fears, self-sabotaging behaviors, and unresolved emotional pain.
The ruler of the 12th house—depending on which house it governs in your natal chart—can offer key insights into the paths or methods through which you may experience healing. 
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The ruler of the 12th house is in the 1st house
You might be highly sensitive to the energies around you, often feeling that your inner struggles are visible, even when trying to hide them. Healing, in this context, requires self-awareness—acknowledging and understanding your hidden wounds instead of avoiding or suppressing them. Practices like journaling, introspection, and therapy can help bring these subconscious patterns to light.
With this placement, there is a strong need to express what is typically hidden. Healing may come through showing up authentically in the world, revealing your vulnerabilities, and allowing yourself to be seen, flaws and scars included. Art, creative expression, or public speaking can serve as powerful outlets for releasing buried pain, transforming those deep-seated wounds into something that empowers you.
Because the 1st house relates to your identity, self-image, and physical body, healing may also come through developing self-compassion and acceptance. Often, with this placement, there's a tendency to be too hard on yourself or to internalize the suffering from the 12th house. You may feel like you're carrying a heavy burden without even understanding why. However, developing compassion for yourself, recognizing your limitations, and being kind to yourself are essential steps toward healing. Mindfulness and meditation practices can help cultivate this sense of compassion.
This placement can indicate that spiritual growth and healing are central to your life path. You may find that your healing journey requires a spiritual or mystical approach. Meditation, energy work, or even time spent in solitude and retreat (a key theme of the 12th house) can help you process these deep-seated issues and bring peace to your soul.
Since the 1st house also rules the physical body, there's a direct connection between your subconscious and your physical health. Healing your deep-seated wounds may require body-based therapies, such as yoga, breathwork, or somatic experiencing. This can help release stored traumas in the body, making the connection between mind and body essential for your healing process. Attending to your body's needs and listening to what it's telling you can be a profound way to address long-held emotional or spiritual pain.
The ruler of the 12th house is in the 2nd house
Healing may come through working on your sense of self-worth and how you manage your material resources. Since the 2nd house relates to finances and possessions, you may find that grounding yourself in managing money, acquiring security, and building stability can be therapeutic. Developing a healthy relationship with what you value materially can help ease deeper anxieties rooted in the unconscious.
The 12th house represents isolation and the subconscious. Placing its ruler in the 2nd house suggests you may find healing by withdrawing from the material demands of the world at times. You might benefit from moments of solitude, where you can reflect on what you truly value and connect with your inner self. Meditation, spiritual retreats, or creative solitude can offer profound healing and allow you to realign your priorities.
This placement can suggest that certain old beliefs about money, self-worth, or material security, rooted in the subconscious patterns, must be let go for healing to occur. You may be carrying hidden fears or anxieties related to scarcity or self-worth that, when confronted and released, will open the door to both spiritual and material abundance.
Healing with this placement often requires you to blend the spiritual and material worlds—finding a sense of peace, security, and self-worth by tapping into the deeper, unconscious layers of your psyche. Reflecting on your relationship with money, possessions, and inner values will be crucial.
The ruler of the 12th house is in the 3rd house
Healing can come through communication, learning, and connecting with your immediate environment.
In this context, you may find that expressing your deeper thoughts and emotions—whether through journaling, talking with siblings, or close friends—helps you release buried feelings and heal inner wounds. Healing could also come through engaging in meaningful conversations or learning something new, particularly in areas that help you better understand your inner self.
Activities like meditation, mindfulness, or even writing about your experiences may also serve as powerful tools for self-awareness and emotional release. Traveling within your local area, taking short trips, or spending time in familiar environments also offers a sense of peace and healing, helping you process your emotions more consciously. Finding ways to bridge your inner world with your everyday interactions can unlock powerful healing energies for you.
The ruler of the 12th house is in the 4th house
Healing involves connecting with your home, family, and deepest roots.
In this case, you may find that healing is deeply tied to your family history or your relationship with your home life. Addressing unresolved issues from your past, particularly childhood experiences or family dynamics can bring you peace and closure. Spending time in your home, creating a nurturing and safe space for yourself, or even reconnecting with your family can help you heal emotional wounds that you may have been carrying unconsciously.
This placement also suggests that inner peace may be found through introspection and solitude at home. Practices like meditation, journaling, or simply retreating into the quiet of your private space can help you process and release deep-seated fears or anxieties. You might also find that exploring your ancestral roots or understanding family patterns offers powerful insights into your subconscious and aids in your emotional healing journey. Ultimately, grounding yourself in your personal and emotional foundations will be key to unlocking deep healing.
The ruler of the 12th house is in the 5th house
Healing comes through creative self-expression, joy, and embracing your inner child.
In this case, healing is found when you allow yourself to engage in activities that bring joy, fun, and spontaneity. Creative outlets such as art, music, writing, or any form of artistic expression can help you process unconscious emotions and release internal tension. These mediums connect you with deeper parts of yourself, channeling hidden emotions into something positive and uplifting.
Romantic relationships and love experiences can also help you heal. You may find that engaging in heartfelt, playful connections helps you heal emotional wounds tied to fear or vulnerability. Likewise, embracing your inner child—reclaiming a sense of play, adventure, and excitement—can unlock healing by releasing the weight of hidden fears and anxieties.
The 5th house also governs self-confidence and individuality, so healing comes when you allow yourself to shine and embrace who you are unapologetically. Finding joy in hobbies, spending time with children, or indulging in your passions can help bring about deep emotional and spiritual healing, reconnecting you with your true essence.
The ruler of the 12th house is in the 6th house
When the ruler of the 12th house is in the 6th house, healing is found by merging your subconscious or spiritual needs with practical, everyday actions. You heal through routines, work, health care, and service to others. Daily habits, such as regular exercise or mindfulness, help bring emotional stability, while serving or helping others can provide a deep sense of healing.
Work environments might reflect subconscious fears or anxieties, offering opportunities for self-growth. Holistic practices—like yoga, meditation, or energy healing—are especially beneficial, as they connect the mind, body, and spirit. Addressing psychosomatic symptoms or hidden emotional patterns tied to past experiences is also key to healing.
In essence, healing comes through structured routines, health-conscious habits, and service-oriented actions that balance physical and spiritual well-being.
The ruler of the 12th house is in the 7th house
Your healing process is likely to be intertwined with your relationships. Partnering with others—whether romantic, platonic, or professional—can help you access parts of your subconscious that need resolution. Issues like trust, boundaries, or hidden fears may surface in partnerships, but these relationships also offer profound opportunities for growth and healing.
Since the 12th house has a spiritual or karmic nature, its ruler in the 7th house suggests that certain partnerships may feel destined or karmic. You may be drawn to partners who help you uncover deeper spiritual lessons, and through these connections, you can find peace and emotional healing.
Relationships may force you to confront fears or unresolved issues from your past. Through the mirror of partnership, you can see your own subconscious patterns more clearly. This can be challenging, but facing these fears with a partner’s support leads to healing.
The ruler of the 12th house is in the 8th house
Your healing process is deeply transformative. This placement indicates that in order to heal, you may need to face significant internal changes. You are likely to go through cycles of release and rebirth, shedding old psychological baggage and emerging stronger. This process can be intense but ultimately leads to profound healing and personal growth.
The 8th house is where we encounter the shadow side of life—fear, trauma, loss, and taboo subjects like death and sexuality. The 12th house ruler suggests that you can heal by diving into these areas, bringing hidden fears and traumas to the surface to process and release them. This may involve facing past wounds or subconscious fears that have been buried but are ready to be transformed.
The 8th house rules intimate, deep bonds with others, especially through emotional and physical closeness. Healing can come through these powerful connections, where you learn to trust and surrender control. Vulnerability in intimate relationships allows you to release long-held emotional patterns and find healing in shared experiences.
Since the 12th house relates to spirituality and the subconscious, the ruler in the 8th house suggests that your healing may also involve spiritual transformation. Exploring mystical or esoteric practices, meditation, or engaging in inner shadow work can help you transform subconscious fears into personal empowerment.
The 8th house is often associated with crisis or loss, and while this can be challenging, it also represents opportunities for deep healing. You may find that healing comes after significant life transitions—whether through financial change, the ending of a relationship, or confronting mortality. These events push you to go deeper within yourself, leading to healing through acceptance and transformation.
The ruler of the 12th house is in the 9th house
Healing may come from exploring spiritual teachings, religious practices, or new philosophical ideas. Engaging in deep contemplation about the meaning of life, purpose, and the universe can provide clarity and inner peace.
Travel, particularly to foreign lands, can offer solace and rejuvenation. Exposure to different cultures, spiritual traditions, or sacred places can bring about profound healing experiences.
The 9th house also rules higher education. Healing could come through engaging in study, whether formal education or self-guided learning. This can include reading philosophical works or even studying healing modalities like yoga, meditation, or psychology.
The 9th house, with its connection to belief systems, offers a potential path to healing. Reexamining your personal faith or finding a new belief system that resonates with your soul’s deeper needs can provide a strong foundation for emotional and spiritual healing.
The ruler of the 12th house is in the 10th house
Healing and spiritual growth are closely tied to your career, public life, or social status.
With this placement, you might find that engaging in meaningful work, pursuing a career that helps others, or taking on a role in the public eye brings deep personal healing. You could also be drawn to professions that involve caring for the less fortunate, working in hospitals, mental health, or spiritual fields where you support others behind the scenes. Healing can also come through achieving a sense of purpose and recognition in your work and overcoming any fears of failure or feelings of being unseen.
Balancing your private spiritual needs with your public responsibilities is crucial. If you use your professional life as a vehicle for service or healing, it can be a source of profound fulfillment.
The ruler of the 12th house is in the 11th house
Healing and spiritual growth are closely connected to your friendships, social groups, and long-term aspirations.
With this placement, you might find healing through meaningful connections with like-minded people or by being part of a group that shares common ideals. Participating in humanitarian causes or working toward collective goals can be a source of deep fulfillment and spiritual renewal. You may feel drawn to helping others within your community or engaging in social movements that bring healing to yourself and society as a whole.
Additionally, your spiritual growth can emerge through your ability to connect with people who help you expand your consciousness and allow you to express your unique vision for the future. Your healing journey might also involve balancing your need for solitude with your desire to be part of a larger collective, finding ways to contribute to the greater good while nurturing your own inner world.
The ruler of the 12th house is in the 12th house
This placement signifies a deeply introspective and spiritual journey toward healing.
You may find that solitude, meditation, spiritual practices, or time spent in retreat from the outside world are essential for your healing and personal growth. You’re likely to feel a strong connection to the unseen or mystical realms, and engaging in these areas can provide significant healing. There could be a natural affinity for helping others in quiet, behind-the-scenes ways, such as working in hospitals, spiritual centers, or charitable institutions.
This placement may indicate a need to confront deep-seated fears, unresolved emotional issues, or hidden parts of yourself that have been suppressed. Healing might come from understanding and integrating these aspects of your psyche, working through karmic patterns, or releasing past traumas. Your spiritual journey is one of self-discovery, compassion, and perhaps even surrender, allowing you to experience profound transformation through solitude and inner exploration.
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decembermidnight · 8 months ago
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Beskar and Pearls
Summary: Wearing the luxurious gift the Mandalorian gave you while accompanying him on a business trip turns out to be a pleasurable torture.
Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader
Word count: 3.9k
Warnings: no plot - just smut, 18+ MDNI, teasing in public, Dom!Din, sub!reader, possessive!Din, lots of dirty talk, Din being a sexy arrogant asshole, glove kink, masculinity kink, humiliation kink, hair pulling, unprotected rough sex, mentions of exhibitionism kink, multiple orgasms, multiple creampies (wtf is a refractory period), a hint of overstimulation
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A/N: the most coherent thoughts I have while ovulating. I have no excuse. This is FILTHYYYY I hope you enjoy it! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!! Also a big thank you to @thefrogdalorian for making sure it's written in decent English and to @saradika-graphics for the perfect divider 💕
Masterlist - Read on Ao3
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The Mandalorian has just landed his ship on Nevarro after spending an entire month catching quarries in the outer rim. He has been away most of the time, but he made sure he'd make up for it every time he came back, too proud and stubborn to admit with words that he missed you, but demonstrating it by spoiling you with luxurious gifts and his body.
You look at him in reverential adoration as he dresses in his armour – a blend of his Mandalorian heritage and the many trophies he acquired from his victims, dark red in colour and dented after many close encounters with death.
He's just finished strapping weapons everywhere on his marvellous body when he addresses you.
“Hey. Got this for you. Wear it. We’re going to the market, I have some business to attend to,” Mando says as he hands you a small drawstring pouch he was hiding in his utility belt.
You immediately open it and its content leaves you speechless. It’s the sexiest piece of underwear you’ve ever seen – an expensive-looking black lace thong with just a string of pearls meant to go between your pussy lips.
If he wants you to wear it while in Nevarro, a lawless planet full of dangerous bounty hunters, you will wear it under the shortest skirt you have. The mere thought of his eyes glued to your ass, hoping to get a glimpse of it while being vigilant of other men at the same time, makes your head spin. You let out an aroused sigh and look at him, impassive as always behind the dark visor.
“That should keep you busy,” Mando chuckles and tilts his helmet.
You immediately wear it along with that short, flowy dress that also happens to be his favourite one on you.
“Let me see it,” he says as his hands grab you by the waist. He brings you closer to him and immediately lifts your skirt. He kneels before you and lets out a satisfied hum when he sees the tempting way the pearls disappear into your slit. The Mandalorian lingers there, dark visor trained on that heavenly view as his gloved hands caress your thighs. The sharp contrast between the coarse leather and your delicate, soft skin gives you a thrill of pleasure. You guess – you hope – the trip won’t take long.
His chestplate rises and falls as he struggles to catch his breath and maintain his composure at the sight of your perfect cunt dressed in pearls. It’s incredible to see how something so dainty could turn out to be so perverse and sinful.
“Come on. Let’s go now,” he says as he stands up. Now at his full height, his imposing figure resumes towering over yours. You admire him in awe, taking in the broadness of his body and the way his armour magnificently highlights it.
He offers you his hand to descend the ramp and as soon as you start walking, you understand why he said that it would keep you busy. With every step that you take, the pearls pleasurably rub against your clit. You can feel yourself getting wet already. There's an aroused expression on your face that Mando does not miss.
"Are you enjoying it?" he asks teasingly.
"Yes," you answer and bite your lip.
"Good,” you can hear how pleased he is seeing you like that after you’ve barely taken a few steps out of the ship. You know the thought of you being so aroused in public while having to control yourself is making him hard. You decide to play his game, see where this leads.
Mando is walking right behind you, strutting proudly as he stalks you like a hunter follows its prey. You feel his gaze trained on your butt, so you accentuate the swaying of your hips to get more friction from the pearls and to seduce him even further, hoping to get a reaction from him.
"Shake your ass as much as you want, you're not getting anything until I'm done here. You're only getting this scum to see how pretty you are. I like it," he slaps your ass and chuckles. You bite your lip to muffle a whimper.
"See the way they're looking at you? If they dare even think of touching you, their dead body will touch the ground before they lay one finger on you," he whispers in your ear as he grabs your hand and positions it over his blaster.
"You are mine," he growls in your ear as he wraps his other hand around your waist. He pulls you close, until the flustered, naked skin of your back touches his cold beskar chest plate. A thrill of excitement traverses your whole body and goes straight between your legs.
No one would be so stupid to touch you, not when a Mandalorian is claiming you as his, not when you can feel his erection against your ass. The whole thing is making you light-headed with arousal, so much that you start to shamelessly rub your ass against his cock. His hand tightens its grasp around your waist as your head rolls back to rest on his shoulder. You sigh in his neck and his hand trails up and wraps around your throat.
"Behave now," the Mandalorian growls as you feel his fingers tightening their grasp, trying to restrain himself from giving into lust already.
“I want you,” you whisper in his neck.
“I know,” he replies confidently before releasing you. What an arrogant motherfucker. You want to make him so hard he’ll want to bring you back to the ship and fuck your brains out, putting his desire for you before his stupid pride and his business. You want him to surrender to his carnal instinct.
The more steps you take, the more desperate you become for relief from this agonising, yet pleasurable torture. The pearls are stimulating your clit mercilessly, without ever getting you close to an orgasm. Your cunt spasms and clenches and what's worse is that he knows. Mando has spent so long quietly studying his bounties that he can tell by the irregular way you're breathing that you're struggling with the sensation. You bet he's enjoying every second of it, smirking under the helmet.
Just before entering the market area, he pulls you closer to him one more time, making you gasp.
"Now be quiet. You wouldn't want to fuck up my business. Be a good girl," he whispers softly in your ear as you feel his hand on your lower belly—close, so close to where you want him the most. Maker, he’s rock hard. You can feel it. You can’t think of anything else when his erection is pressing against your ass and his arm is tightly wrapped around your waist. He lets you go and you enter the market area together.
You try to divert your attention on whatever item they’re selling in the stands but it’s mostly weapons and things for bounty hunters that you couldn’t care less about. You can feel your arousal starting to drip down your legs, making your inner thighs slippery. Your swollen clit is pulsing and begging for attention, but Mando has been clear - you’ll get nothing until I'm done here, and you know nothing could make him change your mind, unless you play your cards right.
He grabs a seat in a beat-up wooden booth, his legs spread wide due to the massive erection trapped in his pants. There is an undeniable air of confidence and arrogance to him when he sits like this, looking so imposing and authoritative. You wish you could just drop to your knees and please him in any way he wants.
"Be my good pretty whore and sit here," Mando invites you to sit on his thigh and you immediately comply. You're so damn wet, you can't keep your legs closed.
"Hmm? Sitting here like this with your legs spread open? Do you want everyone to see your pretty cunt? Better let them know to whom this belongs, don't you think?" he coos in your ear with his husky voice. He knows you're both perfectly concealed and no one could see what's going on under that table. He's doing that just to prove a point—that you belong to him.
You nod mindlessly as his hand cups your cunt and stays there, still, without moving.
"Mando. Mando I need–" you whisper in his neck in a trembling voice.
"Oh. I know," he says, pleased when he sees how flustered you're getting. "Not yet," he growls as one of his gloved fingers trails your slit. He stops right before your clit, making you whimper and grip his arm tight in response. You dig your nails in his flightsuit as he feels how unbelievably wet you are.
"Hey. Behave now," he whispers as a Rodian approaches the booth and takes a seat, greeting him with a nod of his head. He immediately hands Mando a puck.
You have no idea what they’re talking about – you can't focus on anything else apart from the way Mando’s gloved hand holds the puck. You look at his fingers with pure lust, thinking of them touching your clit, pumping inside your cunt, the coarse leather caressing your skin. 
You let your hand trail on his inner thigh and he stays surprisingly calm, not flinching one bit as your fingertips slowly slide higher, until they finally meet his cock. He is so unbelievably hard, you feel him throbbing underneath your fingers as you trail them all over his length. The Mandalorian won't betray any emotion, which turns you on even more. He's perfectly calm and collected on the outside, but you bet he'd love to throw you on that table and bury himself in you.
As soon as the Rodian hands Mando a handful of credits as an advance, he leaves.
"Please. Please, I need you," you whisper in his neck.
"I'm not done here. Be patient."
The throbbing need between your legs causes you to ache so badly that you don’t notice another man has approached and taken a seat until he begins speaking with the Mandalorian.
They're speaking in a foreign language, and Mando’s interlocutor does not seem happy. Judging by their tones of voice and gestures, they appear to be negotiating the fee for Mando collecting a certain bounty that the man needs capturing and he is displeased that Mando commands a high price. You’ve learnt over the time you’ve spent with the Mandalorian that there's not much room for negotiation with him. He has leverage since he's regarded as being the best bounty hunter in the outer rim. The way he speaks is so confident, it makes you even wetter how he does not lose composure while the other man is basically yelling at him. 
He starts running his thumb on the string of pearls digging in your slit, feeling how wet you are for him as he keeps talking to his client while you're sitting in his lap, doing nothing but looking pretty. You're his slut and he wants everyone to know it, but you have to act cool even as he teases you under the table. You have to control the way you breathe, you can't let even the smallest whimper out. Why is this so hot? Why is he so hot?
In the end, the man hands him a hefty amount of credits and rises from the table with a huff, muttering and cursing as he goes.
"Please, take me back to the ship and fuck me. I won't ask for anything else, please," you whisper sensually in the crook of his neck.
"I'm not done here," he tries to appear impassive, but as soon as you resume your touching between his legs, he jerks slightly. You smirk, satisfied.
"Mando…" you trace the outline of his cock with your fingers, feeling how hard his erection is while purring in his neck. His pants are thick, but as you stop right at the tip, drawing circles on it with your fingertips, you can feel the fabric getting slightly damp.
“You’re so hard…” you sigh sensually as you keep rubbing his cock. You hear a choked grunt from him, now that he can’t focus on his job anymore, now that he’s at the mercy of your teasing. You’re so tempting, acting so shameless in public, the thrill of someone noticing the two of you drives him insane and you know it. You’re finally getting your revenge. You can bet he's close to losing control. Mando is twitching in his pants, his breathing getting heavier and heavier...
"Fuck it." He grabs you by the arm and you rush out of the market and back to the ship.
The Mandalorian doesn't even wait for the ramp to close behind him to bend you over the first crate he finds, kicking your legs open with his feet and freeing his throbbing erection. His gloved hands run up your skirt and position themselves around your hips, keeping you steady for him as he slams into you all at once. He meets no resistance from your drenched cunt whatsoever, leaving you breathless as you exhale in a loud moan. You're crushed between the crate and his beskar body, pleasurably forced to take his thick cock. You're only able to let out ragged groans and clamp tightly around him as he finally gives it to you just like you wanted.
"You. Fucking whore. Couldn't wait for me to finish my business. Wanted this dick so much, hm? Are you happy now?!" his thrusts are furious and relentless, his hips crushing your body against the crate with a devastating force. The angle at which he's hitting you is deep, so deep that you can't even prop yourself up on your shaky elbows. You're just getting brutally fucked without dignity.
"You get so disobedient when you want this cock. Maybe I should just tie you up and gag you?"
You can't even mumble words, too absorbed by the feeling of his cock thrusting inside of you, so aroused at the idea of him using your body for his pleasure.
"You're so wet. Damn. It must have been such a torture, right? To be so wet and turned on? Hearing you beg like that made me so fucking hard. Feel it. Feel what you do to me," he rasps as he rails you deep and hard.
The way the pearls are rubbing against your clit and the perfect rhythm of his thrusts are driving you close to the edge already.
"Mando, Mando, I'm–" you can barely mumble as you helplessly drag your hands against the crate.
"Yeah. Come. Seems like it's the only thing that will make you obedient. You wanted it so much, you can have as many as you want today."
'Thank you, thank you, tha–" your blissful chant is abruptly cut as the orgasm takes control over your body. Your cunt clenches hard around his thick cock and your legs jerk uncontrollably, barely touching the ground as he keeps you still and never stops drilling into you as you ride your high. The pleasure is so intense, it leaves you breathless as your cunt keeps involuntarily spasming around him in aftershock. You're panting against the metal crate beneath you, overwhelmed and reduced to a trembling, feeble mess, the coldness of it is a relief against the hot, flustered skin of your body that won't stop begging for him.
"Is this what you wanted, hm? For me to stop everything I was doing to come here and take care of you? Needy girl. You desperately wanted attention, hm?"
You can only mumble in assent, feeling the way he takes out his rage on you.
"Bet you would've let me fuck you in a dirty fucking alley if I wanted to."
"Y-yes–" you reply in a breathy groan, drenching yourself at the mere thought.
"What a slut. What if someone heard you screaming like that? What if someone heard how wet this pussy is when I fuck it? Fuck, you're dripping!"
For a man who barely speaks in normal circumstances, he sure does like to run his mouth when he's buried deep inside of you.
"Yeah. I bet you'd like it if someone saw me fucking you like the slut that you are," he pants and you start whimpering and clamping around him at the idea.
"I knew it. You're such a whore. But you are mine, and I won't let anyone hear these pretty moans and see this perfect cunt. They belong to me. To me," he growls.
"Yes – yes. I fuck–ing b-belong to you," you repeat mindlessly.
"Does it get this much to get you this wet? Just a string of pretty pearls? Looking so fucking good. So fucking good. Are you enjoying it?"
"Yes, Mando!"
"Shit, you're so tight. You're making me come," he says in a broken voice. His thrusts get erratic, as does his breathing "This cunt is so perfect, so fucking perfect," he emphasises the very last word before bursting, spilling hot and wet inside of you in a ragged groan, whining at how good it feels. His muscles tense and he gets rigid behind you, his head rolling back in pleasure.
"Oh, fuck! You're so hot. Spill all of your cum inside of me. Like this, yes!" you cry and start touching your clit, so turned on at the sight and feeling of his orgasm.
The sounds he makes as he comes are the hottest ones you have ever heard. The infamous Mandalorian – stoic, imposing and menacing – is getting lost in the overwhelming pleasure you’re offering him. Your drenched, tight pussy is making that dangerous warrior crumble. You’re so aroused, you need more.
"Please, please don't stop fucking me!" you dare asking him.
"I won't," he grunts as he keeps burying his dick deep, so deep inside of you.
"Don't stop. Don't stop. Oh, fuck, I need you to fuck me harder, please!" you plead as you feel his cum starting to drip down your hole. "Maker, please!" you say as you start frantically slapping and rubbing your clit as you hear the obscene, sloppy sounds of his cock thrusting in and out of you, of his hips slamming against your ass.
"I won't stop. Fuck, I want more. I can't stop. You drive me fucking insane!" he growls, resembling a wild beast, completely overwhelmed by lust. You feel his cock still pulsing inside of you as you get even wetter.
"Look at this perfect cunt. You're so full of my cum, damn, you can't ever get enough of it, can you? Fucking cum slut. Look what you make me do. Just came inside of you but I can't stop fucking this perfect cunt. You want to drain me. Are you proud of yourself, hm? Making me so fucking hard in public and teasing me like the whore that you are."
"Fuck, yes, I'm your whore. Your slave. I'm so close, please–" you mutter deliriously while your fingers and the pearls are rubbing against your clit in a wet, nasty mess of your fluids and his cum. You come hard around him once again, strangling his spent, sensitive cock in your tight grasp and hear him grunting, his grip on your hips tightens and his whole body jerks, but he really can’t have enough.
"Yeah. Yeah. Come on my fucking cock, whore. Let me feel it." he encourages you, gritting those words between his teeth, fighting his own oversensitivity, so addicted to the way you feel around him.
He doesn't stop fucking you, not even after your orgasm. He keeps railing you relentlessly. You bring your hand to your mouth and suck your fingers, tasting the bitterness of his cum blended with the slightly salty taste of your fluids on your tongue. Its taste is addicting, the scent heady and intoxicating in the best way possible.
"You taste so good, Mando. We taste so good together," you drawl, overwhelmed by pleasure.
"Yeah, I bet we do," he grabs a handful of your hair and pulls it to lift your head up, giving it to you even harder, making your eyes roll back in your head. You are screaming, completely entranced by the way his cock is still pumping hard inside of you.
"So damn loud. You like being fucked like this, hm?"
He hits even harder from this angle, keeping you nice and still for him to use as he pleases. You're so busy screaming that you can't even reply to him.
"Yeah. Scream as loud as you want. Let me hear how much you want it. I like it."
You can feel his cum dripping down your legs with every thrust, hearing the sloppy, squelching sounds your bodies make. Mando can't even restrain himself anymore, he’s moaning and sighing at how much he's enjoying it. Your cunt is spasming around him, turned on at the way he sounds.
"You like it, hm? To reduce me like this?" he says in between thrusts.
The truth is that yes, you do. You love making the Mandalorian falter with your teasing, making him so desperate and boiling with lust, he has to leave business to fuck you hard, so hard that any coherent thought leaves your mind. You love it when you can feel the man under all that beskar, when he makes you feel like the most important and beautiful thing in the galaxy.
"Yeah, you do," he answers himself as he slows his rhythm, slipping out of you completely only to slowly bury himself inside of you to the hilt, enjoying the view and feeling of his cock entering into your cunt dripping with his cum.
You bite your lip to muffle your screams just to hear him moaning and sighing as he feels the welcoming warmth of your cunt.
“Mando. Mando, please,” you beg as you feel your legs impatiently shaking as his shaft rubs that perfect spot inside of you with each thrust.
“What?”
“Harder. Please?” you beg, subjugated by that perfect teasing.
He slams into you so deeply that you feel it pulsing against your cervix.
“What? Like this? Hm?” he says as he starts to jackhammer you.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you chant as you resume touching your clit.
“Greedy whore. Ready for another one? I'm not stopping.”
“Mmmm,” you can only reply as you feel another wave of overwhelming pleasure approaching.
You hear him panting as he gives you a few more violent, deep thrusts, driving you over the edge one more time.
“Yeah. Take it – fucking t-take–” he grunts when he feels your walls clenching around his cock, your orgasm pushing him over the edge, too.
A loud, violent snarl rips through his lips as he comes, filling you with his white, thick load once again. The grip of his hands around your hips turns to steel, your eyes roll up so high all you can see is pitch black as he keeps pumping his cock into you as you both ride your high. The feeling completely obliterates you, turning your body and mind into a helpless, exhausted mess.
A huge, satisfied grin forms on your face as you feel him slowly slip out of you and his cum starts dripping down your cunt and legs.
“Good work," he pants "now be a good girl and wait for me while I go back there. Don’t move one muscle and maybe we will pick up where we left off,” he says as he tucks his spent cock in his cum stained pants, not giving a shit about it, looking at the mess he made of you, disrupted and leaking with his seed. Wrecked, used, marked. His.
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almostempty · 20 days ago
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too good to be true (frankie x f!reader)
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Too good to be true (frankie morales x f!reader) | wc: 9k | other fics  | Ao3
summary: frankie, a regular at your coffee shop, is there for you when your boyfriend joel breaks up with you and disappears practically overnight. despite not knowing each other long, frankie just seems to be perfect for you and you fall hard and fast 
note: this was supposed to be for the accidental adultery trope for @auteurdelabre 's trope challenge from last month. i thought accidental adultery was more like the wrong bed trope so--you can find that here with Dieter's party, but it turns out accidental adultery is more like ..when you thought ur lover died in the war or something and you start a new life with someone else and then they show up again. that didn’t interest me- soooo (spoiler) in my version reader doesn’t know that joel only left her bc of frankie 
warnings/tags: mdni explicit, smut, dark!frankie, stalker!frankie, dubcon, lies, deceit, coffee shop au gone wrong, accidental adultery, ex bf Joel, abandonment issues, anxiety, breakup grief, using sex to avoid processing emotions, face fucking, masturbation, crying, love bombing aka emotional manipulation/abuse, frankie doesn’t have a job bc he nefariously acquired a large cash settlement from his return trip to the jungle– or maybe he has a military pension idk don’t ask questions, revenge porn, jealousy, delusional reader, jealous and possessive frankie, if i missed something important pls let me know, 
standard weds warnings: unprotected sex with no consequences bc it’s fiction so it’s free to imagine it raw; f!reader is able-bodied otherwise, no specific descriptions; no y/n, likely many mistakes and i accept that 🫡
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You don’t remember the first time you met, but you remember when you started looking forward to seeing Frankie. He was a quiet regular, didn’t ask for much, but was always polite. Kind. He’d come by at the same time, get the same coffee, and sit at a table in the lobby reading the news on his phone. Most mornings, you were busy enough that you didn’t even think about starting a conversation, but you’d sneak a glance here and there as he sat. Sometimes, he caught you, and you’d both flash a quick smile. 
He was a fun little fantasy to look forward to. You weren’t single or looking anyway, but it didn’t hurt to have something to help you crawl out of bed at 3:30 AM. It was always quiet until just after 6 AM, when the commuters started coming through. Frankie usually came through the lobby just as the morning rush was picking up, curls still damp from his post-workout shower and a soft smile just for you. 
Until it changed. He started showing up even earlier. That’s when you began to get to know him bit by bit. In the quiet dark of the early mornings, while the espresso machines warmed up and the 
You learned that he moved into town this year–not in this neighborhood, but he likes the coffee here, so it’s worth the morning drive. He’s single. Ex-military. Sticks to a routine. Likes your name. Remembers details. Asks follow-up questions about your weekend plans on Monday mornings. 
Did you and your boyfriend see that movie you were thinking about? Did you get to sleep in like you’d hoped? Did he take you to the farmer’s market? Did he like the recipe you wanted to try out? 
It was sweet. And infuriating. Someone you barely knew always remembered your plans or the little throwaway comments you’d make. You knew it wasn’t intentional, but it always stung when he’d ask about your plans, and you were left coming up with excuses for why they never seemed to happen. You carried the discomfort home with you until it spilled over into your relationship. 
And, thanks to Frankie really, it forced you to talk about it. Your boyfriend, Joel, had been drifting away. Complacent and avoidant. He’d been staying late at work, canceling on your weekend plans, always too tired to fuck, generally just a bad-tempered brick wall rather than a boyfriend. But after a serious conversation and some threats you hoped you wouldn’t have to follow through on, he’d agreed to make changes. 
It was working, too. You made date nights a priority. You sent flirty texts during the day–even if neither of you had time to respond right away. 
When he had long days during the week, you’d give him a back massage. You’d sit straddling his ass, rubbing down his shoulder blades, kneading circles with your thumbs, and savoring the view of his broad back and the warmth of his body under yours. You would pull the stress and tension away from his neck and spine, eliciting low groans of pleasure from Joel that would stir up the heat pooling in your core. You’d keep it up until you lulled him to sleep–or on your favorite nights–he’d flip over underneath you and watch you ride him until you were both slick with sweat, panting, and needing another quick shower before succumbing to sleep. 
It’s those tender moments that make it hurt that much more now. 
To think he could just throw you away like this. That he didn’t think you were worth the face-to-face conversation. Worth the closure. Just leaving you a fucking note, like you were a business transaction. Here’s your memo letting you know he no longer requires your services. 
Fucking coward. 
You re-read the letter for the thousandth time. It’s real, and you aren’t insane. You shove it back into your apron pocket. It’s your token. A reminder that this hell is your reality. 
You slip back to the front counter, plastering on your best customer service smile. 
But of course, it’s fucking Frankie. The concern is written across his face before he even gets to the counter. Are you that easy to read? You’re never going to make it through your shift. 
“You doing okay?” he asks softly as if he might spook you. Stupid big brown eyes. Just like Joel’s. They make you weak. You can’t be weak. You try to shift into a more defensive mode–chest forward, shoulders back. 
“Why? Do I look like shit today?” 
“No, never,” he tries to reassure you. Always so sweet to you. 
“Sorry, I just mean, I wouldn’t be surprised. I feel like shit.” You grumble as you grab his drip coffee and set it on the counter between the two of you. 
“I take it he’s still gone then?” 
You can only nod back in agreement. Can’t even look Frankie in the eyes; you just linger on his mouth and scruffy jaw where it seems safer to stare. Until his mouth shifts into a sympathetic frown. 
“You deserve better, you know,” he says like it’s a confession. Only meant for you and his coffee to hear. 
“Sure,” you sigh. Maybe he’s right. You deserve someone that can look you in the eye when they break up with you. Explain in more than a few sentences why they’d block you and disappear like a fucking ghost. Maybe you never really knew Joel at all if he could do this to you. 
You can feel your eyes welling up again, your face is still swollen from crying all night, and you’re sick of the emotional whiplash. Did you miss the signs the whole time? Was it something you did? Will you ever know? The cafe starts to blur as your heart rate increases. 
“Hey,” Frankie murmurs, “breathe.” It’s soft, but the timbre of his voice draws your attention. You focus on inhaling and exhaling, willing away the sobs. Just as you steady, they almost start all over again when you think about how pathetic you must seem to him. Standing at the register, sucking in shaky breath, and trying not to have a complete breakdown. 
But Frankie assures you he doesn’t think you’re pathetic. And somehow, you get through the morning. And the next. Day by day, you crawl through the week against everything inside of you that wants to scream and hide in bed for a month. By the end of the week, the only thought that gets you through the opening routine is that it’s your last shift before the weekend. 
There’s no way you could survive another shift just going through the motions like an undead barista. You know you’re on the edge, fragile and raw. You can just get through today and then spend the weekend locked in your bed wallowing, ugly crying, binge eating, anything. 
Your flimsy resistance almost crumbles when Frankie shows up with flowers for you. It’s too sweet. He seems so concerned. He claims he wanted you to have something to help cheer you up over the weekend. 
His thoughtful gesture is overwhelming. Having someone care about you, think of you, worry about you? And worse, to know that it could be so easy for someone to show you they care. 
To know that you aren’t hard to love. 
He notices the way your eyes shine, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. He apologizes, “If it’s too much, you don’t have to take them. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn’t want to make you cry.” 
You assure him they’re lovely and that you appreciate the gesture. You give him your warmest smile through your misty eyes. And you take the flowers home. 
You stare at them all weekend. 
Your favorite flowers. How did he know? They make you think of Frankie all weekend. His smile, how reliable he is with his routine, his thoughtfulness, how kind he is to you. 
The qualities you thought you had found in Joel. 
You let yourself embrace your agony for the weekend. Determined to make it through at least the first stage of grief. As if you can allot a number of hours to it and just check it off your list. 
A part of you admits that there’s something comforting about knowing you’ll see Frankie again Monday morning. That someone will check in on you. 
And he does. 
Reliable as ever, he shows up in the dark cover of the early morning. You greet each other with your deep morning voices, and there’s something about the fact that you’re the first person you both speak to every morning that draws a genuine smile from you. 
You keep going to work. Frankie keeps showing up. The world keeps turning.
Days pass and you can start to fall asleep without having to exhaust yourself completely. Some of the weight on your chest sloughs off when your ribs shake with laughter at Frankie’s jokes. His charm brightens your dark days. 
One afternoon, as you’re dropping an armful of grocery bags onto the counter, you notice the flowers he gave you. They’re starting to wilt. You hesitate to toss them for some reason. Convinced they’ve got another day in them, at least. 
You sweep up the fallen petals and pollen, spinning the vase to find the best angle left. The flowers may be fading, but Frankie is beginning to occupy a permanent residence in your mind. You find yourself keeping mental notes of things you want to share with him the next morning. A joke about a show you both keep up with, something you saw on your walk home, a question you forgot to ask the day before because you were distracted. 
Distracted by things that don’t sound like they could possibly be distracting. Like the curve of his bottom lip or the space where his neck meets his shoulder. Or worse, the way he smiles so wide you can see his dimples when you double down on an argument about a movie, TV show, or the best takeout on this side of town. 
The next morning he has fresh flowers for you. It’s as if he knew you were hesitating to get rid of them, to lose the physical evidence. You squint at him with a playful accusation of how did you know they were on their last legs? He reasons it’s been a week already. A week. It feels like it’s only been a day, and at the same time, it feels like a whole month has passed. 
It helps. 
The following week is much of the same. Morning chats with Frankie. Busy shifts with rushes and endless cleaning tasks. Running errands, trying to keep in touch with friends, trying to keep yourself too busy and distracted to fall back into the sharp pain of loss. Of coming home to an empty apartment. Of waking up alone. Of the way Joel erased himself so completely from your life, you have to find tangible reminders that he was ever real. 
You loosen your grip on the hope that Joel might show up with an apology or even respond to the text you had sent. He can’t even hear you out or answer a single question? You give up altogether on the idea that the whole thing might have been some confusing mistake.
There’s still a hole rotting in your heart, but if you stay busy enough, you can ignore it. Mostly. 
You stick to your plan, steadfast that time will heal your wounds. Days pass, and you find yourself once again asking Frankie what he has planned for the day. But this time, he hesitates. 
Frankie tells you he’ll be out of town for a few days. You aren’t sure why, but it feels like he jammed his fingers into that hole in your heart when he tells you. Don’t abandon me. Please. 
He must see right through you. 
“Here,” he says, holding out his hand. “I know it’s only a few days, but I was thinking I don’t want to miss out on your remarkably accurate reality TV predictions. You take the napkin with his number written on it. How old-fashioned. It makes your heart flutter. “Keep me updated.” 
You swallow the butterflies and turn the energy into a smirk. “You’re so going to regret this,” you tease. 
You feel lit from within, glowing and floaty for the rest of your shift. Getting the hot regular’s number gives you a rush. It’s not like he asked you on a date or anything, but still, it feels good to have someone want to keep talking to you. 
Until you clock out and immediately start spiraling. Should you text him now just to give him your number? Wish him a safe trip? Play it cool and wait until tomorrow morning? Or maybe he’s busy in the morning? Shit. You never even asked what his trip was for. 
……
It’s early afternoon when Frankie’s phone buzzes. Your shift must have just ended. 
You: it’s me!
You: figured it’s only fair you get my number now, too 
Frankie: Hey you :) 
You: hey :) 
You: i hope the trip goes well 
Frankie: Thanks, it’ll be better now. 
You: how come? 
He underestimated you. He thought he wouldn’t hear from you until tomorrow. Thought it would take longer. 
Frankie: Well, I just got this pretty girl’s number. Now I’ve got her updates to look forward to. 
He shakes his head to himself, pocketing his phone and stretching out on his sofa. 
Maybe he didn’t need the ruse of being out of town at all. You don’t need the absence to suck you in any deeper; you’re moving on faster than he thought. Good. 
He sprawls out across the couch like a lazy dog in the sun, TV on mute, still fully dressed. He drags his eyes over the bare walls of his apartment. He’s going to need the next few days to make the place seem a little more welcoming. More like a place you’d be happy to wake up in. 
He checks the notes hidden in his phone of places you shop, your favorite color, the way your apartment is decorated. He already knows what you want. What you need. With that thought, he drifts off, satisfied, into a long nap. 
He doesn’t wake until his evening alarm goes off, checking his phone to see what reality show you’re going to be glued to tonight. MILF manor. Who comes up with these? He rolls his eyes, stretching, yawning, and traipsing across his apartment to find some cold pizza in the fridge. 
Holding one slice between his teeth and the other in one hand, he debates whether he should take a drive through your neighborhood or stay in for the night. His phone buzzes again, and he figures it’s a sign. He drops his pants near the hallway and scarfs his cold dinner as he settles back in the living room, unmuting the show and opening your messages. 
You’re funny. 
Sending quick-witted observations and callbacks. 
You force him to pay attention. You’re sharp. If he doesn’t watch, you’ll know. You always call him out for missing the nuance. You challenge that he could predict the next winner if he paid closer attention. 
When you get frustrated with him and huff about how he missed something completely obvious, he memorizes your expressions. The fire in your eyes when you’re passionate. You feel so deeply and express your emotions so freely. 
He likes that about you. Funny. Smart. Bold. Passionate. Sexy.
Perfect. 
He lets his mind wander as he leans back. The room glows from the light of the TV, flashing brighter and dimmer. The look on your face when he said he’d be gone for a few days pops into his mind, how your eyes flashed wide and the soft pout that tugged at your bottom lip. 
You need him. It’s so clear. And you’re so perfect. 
The show is just noise. Static. 
He closes out of your messages. Opening up his photos. Scrolling through pictures of you. Some from social media, and some taken while you were working and unaware. 
Perfect. 
His eyes fall shut as he tips his head back, relaxed and comfortable as he sinks deeper into the cushion. 
“Perfect lips, perfect mouth,” he mutters to himself as he sets the phone aside altogether. 
It’s a simple but effective scene that plays out in his mind. A go-to fantasy since the day he first laid eyes on you. 
He wedges his boxers down just far enough to free his half-hard cock. He tries to start slow, with languid strokes as he imagines the heat of your mouth sucking him deeper. The sight of you looking up at him with your lips stretched around him. 
“Just perfect,” he groans to himself. He can’t hold back his urgency at the thought of you, quickly amping up the speed of his wrist and the strength of his grip. It’s minutes, or maybe seconds before his muscles are tensing and jerking as he comes to the thought of you. 
It eases the tension, but he still needs you. Soon. 
……
The rest of your week passes quickly. 
Your head is in the clouds over your new texting buddy. You check your phone on all your breaks but send yourself into another spiral, trying to work out the balance between enthusiastic but not needy. Responding quickly, but not being too much. You don’t want to come off as crazy.
It fully absorbs your attention. The excitement and the anxiety. The rush when you get a new message and the anguish over every word you type. Rereading your messages until you get a response. Worrying yourself over your silly jokes and banter. But when he responds, it’s addictive. You’re smitten when he matches your energy or sends a flirty quip. 
It makes you smile so hard your cheeks burn. You get distracted taking orders. It’s all-consuming. 
………
Frankie keeps tabs on you the rest of the week. When you walk home from work, when you run errands, when you’re out with your friends. He picks up things for his apartment while you’re at work. At night, he drives down your block. He watches you watching TV. Until dark, then you diligently shut your curtains just as the last dregs of the sunset disappear. 
Tonight, he lingers, still parked across the street from your apartment building. He sends another text, and his eyes flick to your curtains like you might open them back up just for him. You’re such a good girl for that, though–not letting anyone else watch. 
Frankie: I’m back tomorrow. You have weekend plans? 
You: that’s great! no plans for me
Frankie: You want to watch tomorrow’s episode together? 
You: that would be fun! 
Frankie: Perfect :) 
………
You don’t know why you offered to host. You feel like your place has been a mess. Since Joel left, you’ve been letting your depression piles calcify. You shove your laundry into the washer, toss your unopened mail into a drawer, and do your best to make it look like you’re a fully functioning adult. 
Something about having Frankie over has you feeling pent up. 
You’re nervous. Excited. And you’re still unregulated and exhausted from the emotional devastation of Joel disappearing on you. You’ve been letting yourself sink into the distraction of making a new friend. A hot, new friend. But as helpful as the distraction is, you still haven’t really processed the pain. 
Maybe it’s too soon to let yourself think about Frankie all the time. Maybe you need to really feel your misery and figure out what you missed. What you did wrong. No, even your body rejects that idea, sending a shiver of anxiety through you. 
Fuck it. 
You’re both single adults. There’s no rulebook that says you can’t entertain a new crush. So what’s the harm? You’re hoping that seeing Frankie in person will help you get clarity on the flirty vibe of his texts. Are they truly flirty, or are you just delusional? 
You do your best to find a casual “just watching trash TV” type of outfit after your everything shower. You bought enough snacks to feed a high school football team, you know, just in case. You flutter around your space, hastily cleaning anything else you can think of, worried about details that only an evil in-law would scrutinize you for. 
Despite your frenzy and feeling on edge all afternoon, the concern all seems to vanish when Frankie shows up at your door. You welcome him in and swoon a little over the fresh flowers he brought you. You still have some nerves that don’t relent, but they’re the smiley, giggly, butterfly type of nerves now. 
As you get settled, it all feels surprisingly easy. 
You make each other laugh. You offer your insane spread of snacks, and he settles next to you on your sofa before the episode starts. He appreciates all of your commentary and banters with you over your strongest opinions. It feels surprisingly natural to be spending time together like this. Without an espresso machine between you. 
You’re taken with his presence. He balances you. Even when he debates your controversial takes and unpopular opinions, he doesn’t get worked up like you. 
His calm demeanor is grounding. His nearness and steadiness relaxes you.  
The stress let down makes your head feel heavy, and without thinking, you rest your temple against Frankie’s shoulder with a deep sigh. It feels comforting until you realize how forward you’re being and snap your head back up. 
“Shit, I’m sorry,” you blurt out, scooting away. “I didn’t mean to.” 
“It’s okay,” he reassures you, voice soft and low. 
He’s staring at you so intently. You feel the heat in your face, embarrassed at acting so comfortable with him and self-conscious under his gaze. You still don’t really know what he wants. And you don’t want to fuck anything up. But he doesn’t seem bothered. In fact, you swear his eyes drop to your mouth before they flick back up. 
“More than okay,” he adds, and your stomach flips at his honesty. “Here,” he shifts and invites you to scoot under his arm. You get comfortable, resting your head on his chest. 
You try to watch the TV, but you can feel Frankie watching you. It makes you restless and unable to think clearly. You peer up at him. It’s a charged look; maybe it was already obvious, but you hadn’t felt confident enough to put the pieces together until now. 
“What?” You whisper, unable to fight the smile pulling at your mouth. 
“You look beautiful,” he murmurs. 
Uh oh. Your breath hitches, and something in you cracks. A tear slips from the corner of your eye, and you try to hide it, whispering thanks into his chest and looking down. 
“Hey,” he tilts your chin to look up at him. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 
“I don’t know,” you choke out, trying to will away the emotions that bubble up inside of you. “That’s really sweet of you.” You steady your breathing, slower and deeper. What is wrong with you? You expected something flirty. You didn’t expect something so.. heartfelt?
The more you slow your breathing, the more it feels like you’re inhaling the essence of Frankie. Whatever combination of laundry detergent, deodorant, body wash, whatever it is is all combined it’s soothing. Nice. It calms you. 
But why? How does just breathing against him make you feel safe? 
You can’t even think about safety. You can’t count on anyone else. What if he leaves out of nowhere, too? Your thoughts pick up, racing. Falling deeper into your anxieties. You aren’t even on a date; you shouldn’t be worried about this guy abandoning you. 
Your fears eat at you, worsening your fragile state. Your body shakes gently as you try to breathe through the anxiety. 
Frankie runs his hand along your back. He’s so warm, solid, and strong. 
You feel like you must seem insane, which makes your emotional flooding worse. He just keeps murmuring at you about how you’re okay, and he pulls you into his arms to give you a firm hug, regulating you. Fixing you. 
When you lean back to apologize for crying on him, he shakes his head in disagreement. 
“Don’t apologize,” he says it like he means it, like he won’t be taking questions or arguments. You sniffle as you do your best to accept that. “You still look beautiful,” he says, pulling you back towards him. 
It’s everything you didn’t know you needed to hear. Your face nestles against his neck. Delirious with your state of mind and his flattery and reassurance. You can’t stop yourself from kissing his neck. The exact spot you’ve been so distracted by on so many mornings. His skin is soft and warm; you can taste your tears, wet and salty on your lips. You do it again before you freeze. What are you doing? 
Frankie’s hand slips up the back of your neck, cradling your head in his warm palm. It feels like encouragement. You test your theory, pressing another gentle kiss to his jaw where his scruffy beard tickles your nose. 
The TV might still be on, but all you can hear is your breathing and his. The sound of your lips against his skin. And the low-pitched noise in Frankie’s throat that urges you on. Provoking a needful fire within you. Intense and frantic. You nip at his ear before stamping open-mouthed kisses back down his neck, pulling back only to breathe hot and humid against his skin. 
You hesitate, a frenzied desire has you wanting to straddle his lap and take more and more, but something makes you pause. Frankie knows. He feels your weight shifting and makes the move for you, pulling you onto his lap. 
“I know,” he says as his large hands wrap around both sides of your jaw. “Keep going.” The encouragement pours over you like warm honey. Face to face, you wrap your arms around his neck. The last thread of your doubt snaps and you close the gap. Pressing your lips together. Softly for a second, before your mouths are parting and your tongues and teeth work fervently to express your desire. 
Then it becomes a desperate blur, your fingers curling into his hair, tugging until he’s groaning into your mouth. His hands slipping under your shirt, hot against your skin, snaking back down to knead the curve of your ass while you roll your hips, grinding into his lap in search of friction. 
You feel him hardening beneath you and a molten hot thrill radiates between your legs. There’s a raw quality to your movements as you bite at his lip, scratch at his shoulders, and whine with a frustrated edge. 
You’re taking out all your emotional distress on him. Or, rather, you’re begging him to erase it all, to bite back harder, to use force, to dominate. You keep trying to use your body instead of words. Just teeth, nails, and needy writhing. Anything sharp, forceful, rough. An offering. 
Tears still roll down your cheeks, hot with anger, anguish, and everything you can’t name. You aren’t interested in exploring your emotions. You need something more visceral. 
You sit back, hands shooting towards Frankie’s belt, chasing more, when he stops you in your tracks. His hand possessively grips below your jaw, forcing you to look at him. 
Your cunt throbs at the look on his face. The soft, gentle Frankie is gone. His face is hard and dangerous as he studies you. For some reason that makes you want him even more. 
His fingers dig into your cheek eliciting a sharp inhale from you, parting your lips into a small “o” shape, before he releases you. You know you’re a mess. Teary, panting, wild-eyed–but his lips curl into sinful grin. Reflexively you tilt your pelvis, drawing the heat of your core along the ridge of his erection. Your eyes flutter shut, as you aim to forget yourself and focus on the sensation. 
But his chest shakes, jostling you in his lap, with his rumbly, dark chuckle. It’s condescending, startling you and stilling your hips. You blink at Frankie. The charged air is thick. The rest of the room has faded. Your brows furrow as you wonder, but your thighs tense. 
“Keep going.” 
It’s a demand this time, not an affirmation or encourager. His sinister smirk is gone, replaced by a frighteningly blank stare. His carnivorous eyes drop, watching your fingers as you work open his belt and jeans. 
Shit. You can tell he’s big as you trace your fingers along his cock, over his boxers, savoring the heat in your palm. The damp fabric at the tip pleases you, and you peel the waistband down to reveal the glorious vision that has you wetting your lips. 
“Shit,” you repeat out loud this time. A primal, hungry need possesses you as you admire his cock. The glistening head, thick shaft, and dark patch of curls at the base. Just the sight of him is intoxicatingly masculine and dominant. 
You need him in your mouth. 
You slink off his lap, sinking to your knees between his legs. Excitement flutters in your pussy and you feel like you’ve fallen into a into a trance. Your body moves faster than your mind, tugging at his jeans as he repositions at the edge of the couch. 
“I know,” he mutters under his breath as you wrap your hand around the smooth skin. “I know what you need,” he continues. You can only hum in response. Preoccupied by the slip of your thumb dragging a trail of precome down along the underside of his cock. 
He cups the back of your head, urging you towards his tip with a commanding open growled down at you. You want to pout for not getting the chance to tease and savor the moment, but you don’t have the time when he slides past your lips and hits the back of your throat. 
You choke, sputtering around him and pulling back. His hand encourages you to try again and you’re eager to take it like he gives it. Refocusing on controlling your breath, you look up to see the fierceness in his eyes on his otherwise blank face. A confusing mix of warning and excitement stirs in your core, making you squirm on your knees. 
The discomfort makes something flicker across his face. 
You try again, determined, like you’ve got something to prove. You pull his other hand to your cheek. Please lead. You catch the start of a smirk on his face before he’s guiding you once again. It makes your mind blank; all you can do is breathe and focus on relaxing your muscles. It’s a welcome release from the stress. Grounding you in the present. You can only think as fast as he can glide along your tongue. 
As you build a rhythm, he verges on brutal, but when you’re rewarded with the delicious sound of Frankie groaning because of you the intensity means nothing. Your eyes water as you refuse to gag out of sheer willpower. His thumb smears your tears across your cheekbone, and he pulls you off of his cock.
He takes in your swollen lips, ragged breathing, and wet lashes like he’s committing the details to memory as you catch your breath, before he’s tapping at your cheek. You open wide for him and he rests the head of his cock on your tongue, shallowly tipping you back and forth. 
Your jaw could be aching or your knees may be digging into the rug, but it doesn’t matter to you. It’s much easier to meditate on the weight of his length slipping along your wet tongue. Centering yourself on that thought, your eyes flutter shut. 
You wonder if this side of Frankie has always been lurking beneath the surface. Chillingly collected, but with something viscous bleeding into the edges. You wonder if maybe you’ve called to this part of him with the mayhem of your state of mind. 
“Yeah,” Frankie rasps in his gravelly tone causing you to blink back up at him. You wonder if he can read your mind; if he was answering you. The hint of a smile remains on the corner of his lips when you look up, “Making you feel better already.” He’s presumptive but accurate. 
You give a muffled affirmation that vibrates in your throat as he slides past your lips and you take him deep as he can be. All your senses are filled with Frankie when you inhale, when you swallow, when you blink. You give, pliant for him, trusting him with the control. You don’t worry about how obscene you might look with tears rolling down your cheeks. You just want to hear what other sounds he might make for you. His thumb drags over your cheek again, wiping away the wet streaks. 
“This is the only reason you ever cry for me.” Frankie’s voice is dripping with affection. And possession. 
It makes everything foggy. The sentiment, the delivery, the authority. He doesn’t let you dwell on the unspoken commitment in his statement. Doesn’t give you the time to question him or spiral inward. 
Your head swims until he pulls you up, strips you, and settles you back onto his lap. Some action movie autoplayed after your episode ended. The crashing and explosions of the chase scene in the background don’t ruin the moment, in a twisted way it’s almost a fitting soundtrack for the two of you. 
Frankie allows you to pull his shirt up, over his head, and time slows. The warmth radiating between your bodies is nothing compared to the searing heat of Frankie’s gaze. It’s dizzying, between his torrid expression and his grip on your hips as he guides you closer. 
You go entirely mindless when the head of his cock nudges your clit, gasping as he slips along your wet seam. It brings everything into focus for you, and you reach between your bodies to guide him directly to your deplorably empty cunt. 
“Oh, fuck,” your word turns to a groan as he breaches your entrance, and you tense at the stretch, holding still. 
“Keep going,” he orders lowly, and you inch down until he impatiently takes control, slamming you down until you meet his hips. Your mouth hangs open at his move and the immediate fullness. His hardened look softens as your walls ripple and flex, adjusting to his size. 
At least until you start moving, grinding against him, slowly at first. Then the sharp sternness returns. You’re unaware, chasing the friction as your clit rubs against the dark hair surrounding the base of his cock. 
“Knew you’d be perfect,” he says it more like an I told you so to himself than praise for you, but the words affect you just the same. Your chest rises, swelling with pride, and you chase his approval instead of your pleasure. 
You ride him until your thighs burn. His hands are everywhere. Rolling your nipples between his fingers, squeezing all of your soft curves, spreading your legs wider to watch where he disappears inside of you. You bounce eagerly for him, spine arching to draw his eyes to the way your tits ripple from the force of your body colliding into his. 
You whine in disapproval when he interrupts you, pulling you flush against his chest, grazing his teeth along your neck. “Give it to me,” Frankie demands, his voice rough and raw, breath hot along your sweat-damp skin. 
He runs his hand down your body, thumb circling your clit, adding the pressure you need. You edge closer and closer, body taut with anticipation. “Come for me,” he commands. It’s the authority and his gravelly voice rolling through you that launches you into a shuddering release. 
Frankie continues talking while you’re disoriented by the overwhelming pleasure. “For me,” he grunts through clenched teeth as your pussy contracts around him. “I know that’s what you need.” You can only moan as you cling to his broad shoulders. “Only me.” 
You figure he’s just rambling until he grabs you by the jaw again, demanding you respond. Demanding you repeat it for him. And you do. With glassy eyes and you mutter his words back to him. Declaring you only come for him. That you need him. 
Your words unlock something within Frankie. “Good,” he approves. “Good girl.” He praises you gruffly as he holds you steady, pounding into you with an untamed strength. You’re floating, starry-eyed and softheaded at his praise. Murmuring sentence fragments and his name, conjuring throaty grunts from Frankie until he stills, coming deep inside of you. “Only me,” he echoes and you confirm. 
“Only you.” 
In your unguarded state, it’s a welcome commitment. Maybe you haven’t had any real dates yet, but he knows you. He wants you. He tells you he wants to take care of you, and that feels fucking good. 
You collapse against his chest, matching his breathing. The movie playing behind you reaches a tragic twist, setting the third act in motion and solidifying the protagonists dark path. You run your tongue along the column of Frankie’s throat as the score of the film hangs unresolved on a dissonant chord. He pulls you to his lips, kissing you possessively and captivating you. 
Your bodies flow, connected and attuned. In his lap, in his arms, with his tongue slipping between your lips, you feel wanted. Assured. Content to accept that he knows what you need. 
And he’s unrelenting. Determined to prove it to you. Again and again. 
All night. On the couch, in the shower, in your bed. 
Until the night bleeds into the morning and he doesn’t disappear. 
You take turns waking and watching one another sleep. Verifying he’s real. Watching your chest rise and fall before drifting off again. Until the sun heats your room and you wake again to find yourself curled into his broad frame. His chest to your back as he draws his fingers down your along the dip and swell of your waist and hip. 
“Did you mean it?” you ask, in a strikingly solemn tone for the soft setting. Breath shallow as you stare off toward the window. Not ready to turn and face him in the daylight. 
“Every word.” He punctuates his affirmation with a tender kiss behind your ear. His reassurance satisfies you; warmth blooms from your chest spreading to your fingers and toes. 
You spend a lazy Sunday together. Eating, laughing, fucking, and gazing at each other like lovesick teenagers. It’s too sweet to end. Instead, you become inseparable, taking turns staying at each other’s places until you have to go back. 
The world feels bright again. Lighter. 
He had paid such close attention as you got to know each other. He’s almost suspiciously perfect. Picking up your favorite takeout meals, putting on your favorite movies, and keeping your flowers fresh as the weeks pass. 
You feel like you can never get enough of him somehow. You think about him all day at work, even though he still visits you every morning like clockwork. Your heart swells when he meets you at the end of your shift to walk you home. 
You find yourself canceling your happy hour dates with friends to stay in with Frankie instead. Postponing and rescheduling, you’ll see them soon. It’s like there aren’t enough minutes in the day to get your fill of Frankie. 
You’re insatiable, always needing him in your mouth, between your legs, fucking you through the mattress, on the counter, any surface you can find. You’re never too much. He’s equally infatuated with you, a mutual obsession. Fulfilling your darker desires and unleashing fantasies you’ve never felt safe enough to explore. He’s greedy and hungry for you. Making you feel wanted and desired. 
With your head in the clouds, all you can see is how much he cares about you. He texts you whenever you’re apart, picks you up after your shifts, shows you off to his friends. 
You barely have to do anything for yourself. He’s always thinking of you, predicting your needs before know them yourself. He picks up your mail for you, runs errands before you get home, and stocks his apartment with all of the products you use and love so you don’t have to go home for days at a time. 
Things are so good that it’s rare when something goes wrong. 
But when it does, it really fucking hurts. 
When you get into an argument, a real one, he doesn’t fight with you. He leaves, swiftly and without another word. He doesn’t respond to your texts or calls. It feels like you’ve been torn in half; you sob and shake alone in your bed until your alarm blares and your headache throbs. 
He doesn’t respond the following day, doesn’t come in for coffee, and doesn’t show any signs of existing. You move through your shift like a hollow corpse haunting the cafe. Time drags agonizingly slowly. 
Every time the door opens your eyes snap towards the entrance, hoping to see the familiar curls and broad shoulders, but it’s not him. You restart your phone just on the odd chance there’s something wrong with it. He wouldn’t abandon you. He knows that would destroy you. 
The void in your chest is cold and dark. Anger simmers somewhere inside of it, but it’s not strong enough to set you off. When Frankie shows up at the end of your shift, the anger is snuffed out completely. His presence immediately reverses your heartbreak, and suddenly you’re apologizing to him before he gets a word out. 
You have to. He has to know you wouldn’t do anything to make him leave. He can’t. He’s calm, accepting your apology and taking you home where he erases your pain. With his hands, and mouth, and cock. Until you forget what the argument was ever about, and what it felt like to watch him walk away. Until it’s back to normal. 
Every day you rely on him more and more; you can’t breathe without him. But when he’s with you, everything feels easy. Right. 
Not many things can throw the two of you off. Your friends seem happy enough for you, despite their questions and insistence that you come out with them more often. You get along well with Frankie’s friends. They’re quick witted and welcome you genuinely. 
They treat you like family, but it doesn’t stop Frankie’s jealousy from flaring up. If Benny smiles at you for too long or if you rest a hand on Will’s bicep when you laugh it only takes minutes before Frankie’s fingers dig into your arm and he whisks you away. 
It gives you a perverse thrill every time. 
When he folds you over the bathroom counter at his friend’s house. Demanding you watch in the mirror as he reminds you with a fierce snarl and devastating thrusts that you’re his. When you can still hear his friends horseing around outside, but he pounds into you with such force, you can’t quiet yourself. He slaps a hand around your mouth to silence you, growling into your ear that you’ll take it quietly, like a good girl. 
Sometimes you aren’t even sure what triggers him. 
Like when he fucks you against the side of his SUV in the parking lot of the trendy bar Benny had invited you both to. All you can piece together is Frankie muttering something about your dress as he yanks the top of it down letting your tits spill into the cool night air. He’s reckless and animalistic, claiming you roughly under the stars and streetlights before you can even get into the car let alone through your front door.
…..
Tonight, you both know exactly what got under his skin. Maybe not the why of it all, but he’s sure you know how he feels, and he wants to hear you say it. 
It started this afternoon. He picked you up from work, like usual, and you chatted in the car as he drove to the grocery store. You sighed, tiredly as you recounted an exchange with a rude customer, but when Frankie pulled your hand towards his mouth to press a gentle kiss to the delicate skin on your inner wrist. 
Predictably, it brightened your features. Knowing your buttons doesn’t dull the intoxicating effect you have on him, though. He loves the way you light up so easily for him and it serves to deepen his conviction time and time again. Like a constant affirmation that he is where he is supposed to be. That everything he does for is exactly what he should be doing. Exactly what you need. 
He was still ruminating on this as you led him through the aisles of the grocery store. Unbothered that you had to double back to the produce section after forgetting some fresh herb you determined was crucial to the dish you planned out. You dashed around the corner in front of him, with a giggle when Frankie’s heart stilled. 
He didn’t have time to distract you. Your laughter cut off immediately. 
“What the fuck?” you muttered and Frankie grabbed your hand. 
Joel’s pace quickened as he brushed past you. Your head turned, calling his name once, but Joel carried on as if you didn’t exist. Frankie studied your face, emotions flooded your expression as you watched Joel walking away. Something darker flickered across them. 
Frankie followed your line of sight. Flowers. Joel was carrying a bouquet of flowers.
You apologized to Frankie. Clearly thrown off, but determined not to let it get to you or to Frankie. 
“I didn’t know he even lived here still,” you remarked. 
He doesn’t. The possessive fire burned through Frankie’s veins. “We’re going,” he commanded in a low tone that made your eyes flare wide. 
“What?”
“Now.”
“We can’t leave everything.” 
“They won’t arrest us.” He argued, as he all but carried you out the door, ushering you in a blur to his car and all the way home. Frankie moved swiftly and silently. Wholly consumed by the need to feel you writhing underneath him and crying out his name. He needed it so viscerally, he didn’t even have time to process how he was going to deal with Joel. 
Until you’re breathless and shuddering beneath him. Repeating everything he wants to hear. 
“Only for you,” you repeat as you rake your nails down his shoulder blades and the plane of his back. 
“Again,” he demands. You don’t know if he wants you to keep talking or to come again, but both are inevitable at this point. 
“I’m yours,” you pant, wrapping your legs around him as if you could pull him any deeper inside of you. He shifts slightly, angling your hips and your cunt clenches around him pulling him devastatingly close to the edge as you moan his name. 
He stills and you whine in protest as Frankie stretches past you to pick his phone up off the bedside table. “Keep going,” he orders as he points the lens at you. He needs you to say it again. He adjusts to resume his pace, snapping his hips into causing your lips to part with another moan. 
“I’m yours,” you repeat, “all yours.” He gives you a dark smile as he records you. Capturing all the lewd, wet sounds as he drives his cock into you, the euphoric smile that spreads on your face, and the words you know he always wants to hear. 
“Mine,” he agrees. 
……
You don’t see Joel again. And you don’t have time to dwell on the encounter anyway. Frankie keeps you busy and satisfied, and even surprises you by asking you to move in with him officially. Maybe it feels soon, but you spend nearly every day together anyway and the idea delights you. 
It’s an easy transition. You downsize some of your duplicate appliances, joking with him about how he must have great taste for having so many of the same products. He admits that you inspired a few of his purchases. 
You settle into a routine quickly, not much changes. 
Sometimes in the early morning, when you slip out of bed in the dark to get ready for your shift, you wonder if it’s all real. If someone can care about you as deeply as you care about them. But by the time you’re showered and dressed, he greets you with a sleepy kiss before pulling on his usual workout attire and driving you to work. 
You let your gaze linger this morning. Trailing along his profile as he drives, admiring all the details that you used to wonder about from the other side of the counter. His neck, those arms, his hands, those lips. They’re illuminated in flashes as you pass under the streetlights. 
You catch the twitch at the corner of his mouth. He always knows when you’re looking. He rests a hand just above your knee. He always knows what you need. And idea takes root in your mind, and you do everything to stop yourself from smiling and giving yourself away. It’ll take a few days to organize. He’s almost impossible to surprise. 
……
Later in the week, Frankie is on autopilot. Kicking off his shoes and pulling his sweaty shirt over his head before he lopes towards the ensuite for a shower. He only makes it a few strides before he’s on edge, noticing the lights he didn’t remember leaving on. He hears your voice. Relief and confusion twist together in his chest. How did you get back here before him? 
Walking into the bedroom you are a sexy surprise wrapped in red lingerie he’s never seen you wear before, but something is wrong. Your shoulders are curled inward, your cheeks are wet, and you’re hastily tying up your matching red satin robe. 
He scans the room, swallowing thickly when he notices the open coset door and the missing box on the shelf. 
He calls your name softly. 
“What is this, Frankie?” your voice shakes. Unsteady and wavering between fear and anger. 
You hold up his phone. Well, his other phone. Shit. 
…..
“Answer me,” you beg. Desperate for an explanation. For something to make sense. To understand how you went looking for the box with fuzzy handcuffs and instead found a phone with a new message from a number you still recognized. 
Your heart is pounding in your chest and when he takes you into his arms you flinch. You want to shove him off of you. Despite your hostility, your body is still drawn to his. He always knows what you need. In his arms your heart feels tethered to his, like they could merge through the proximity of your rib cages. Like they beat for each other. 
“You trust me, right?” he asks. 
“Explain, please,” is all you can whisper. 
“It was to keep you safe,” he starts. 
“From what?” 
“To protect you. Joel wasn’t good for you. He couldn’t take care of you. Not the way you deserve.” 
“How would you know?” it’s still not making sense to you. 
“You told me.” He’s so self-assured. Like, he’s always right. Like, he can’t even imagine why you’d be upset right now. “I did it for you,” he adds. 
“Did what?” you need him to say it out loud. You need him to fix this. 
“I know you thought Joel was trying, but he was only going to drag it out. Disappoint you over and over. Can you imagine what it would’ve been like for me to watch you go through that?” 
You don’t answer. 
“I couldn’t watch. I made him an offer, but he’s a stubborn man.” 
You snort quietly at that understatement. Nobody tells Joel what to do. 
“I just had to find the right leverage.” 
Frankie holds you so tight, you can’t wriggle around to look him in the eyes. 
“He couldn’t give you what you need, not like I can. I know what you need. And, think of how fast you got over him anyway. You were mine all along.” 
You’re lightheaded. From the shock of finding the evidence. From his words. From the way you believe him. You want to sit down. You tap at his arms insistently, begging against his chest, but he keeps talking. His deep voice rumbling in your ears. 
“You wouldn’t have understood it then. I had to keep it from you to protect you. So we could have what we have now.” He’s not listening to you. Not letting you go. It makes you snap. 
“Let go of me!” 
“You have to understand first.” 
“I’ll listen,” you plead. “Just let me breathe.” He lets you step back, but doesn’t release you from his grip. His hands are glued to your arms. He waits, steady and chillingly calm.
Slowly, the pieces start to fall into place. The unanswered questions from your breakup. The way Joel completely vanished. 
“I thought he just left,” you whisper to yourself. 
“He did,” Frankie argues. 
“I thought he didn’t want me,” you continue. 
“He didn’t. Not the way that I want you.” 
Something cold trickles down your spine and you look at Frankie. For a moment he’s a complete stranger. Your stomach sinks and your vision spins. Slamming your eyes shut you filter through your racing thoughts. 
It wasn’t fate that led you into Frankie’s arms. 
You wound up crying on his cock by design, trying to fuck away the pain of a heartbreak that wasn’t even real. You’ve fallen into a whole new life, while the man you had loved may have never stopped loving you back? 
“You blackmailed Joel Miller?” 
“Technically, it’s extortion.” 
It’s all there on the surface. Exposed between the two of you. Who Frankie really is. Cunning and competent. Devoted and dangerous. Possessive and powerful. 
“It worked, until he came to town for someone’s engagement party.” 
“When we saw him at the store?” Frankie nods. “And then you sent him the video we made.” 
“Hearing it from you seemed to do the trick. He knows you’re mine and you only want me.” 
Frankie gives you time to study him. Absorbing the information. The gleam in his dark eyes. The same eyes from when he would visit you at work. Just as fierce and just as earnest. 
You’ve always known him for his true self. He’s been yours since he first laid eyes on you. And he knew you needed him. 
“And you did it… for us.” 
“For you.” 
You can see it plainly on his face. He’d do it again and again to have you. Because you’re his. It’s all you ever wanted. It has to be wrong, but it’s the hottest thing anyone has ever done for you. 
You push him back towards the bed, climbing onto his lap in a recreation of the first night you spent together. It’s reflexive. The magnetic pull between you has your hips rolling in his lap as he’s already hardening beneath you. 
“You’re sick,” you tell him before you lick a hot stripe up his neck. 
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he growls back before you’re crashing into him with a ravenous kiss.  
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pinkroseblooms · 3 months ago
Text
obsessedloner!Choso/chubby!f!Reader pt.2
Summary: in the second part to this modern college au, obsessive loner!Choso goes too far; reader deals with the consequences of his need to keep you close to him and him alone when he feels like you're at risk of gaining the attentions of an even more popular classmate. Yet another self indulgent piece of work, but sue me, I couldn't stop writing this all day. Enjoy!
Warnings: toxic behavior, obsessive/possessive behavior, jealousy, emotional manipulation, smut, mating press, rough sex, hurt/comfort, talks of low self esteem, clingy, needy!Choso, begging, crying, break downs, and borderline yandere!Choso, and other less than healthy relationship dynamics.
wc: 5.3k
The birthday cake was placed on the teacher’s desk: the majority of your speech class had decided that since Satoru Gojo’s birthday was coinciding with the last week of exams before break, it would be fun to have a small party. You volunteered to bake the cake; the professor gave permission to use his classroom that afternoon, with the condition the space was tidied up afterward and things didn’t get too rowdy. It was going to be a nice opportunity to celebrate the coming holiday season and the student who was arguably the school’s golden boy. Even those who didn’t like Gojo’s flippant arrogance and teasing nature admired his work ethic and almost supernatural intelligence, to say nothing of his undeniably pretty face. 
Choso was only there because he knew you were attending and in charge of bringing the requested birthday cake. He didn’t feel one way or the other about Gojo, but he would gladly be by your side, eager to hear the compliments your baking would receive and also to make sure no picky eaters decided to get nit picky and spoil your mood. Truly, Choso had been happy on your behalf to hear you had agreed to help with the party. He certainly wouldn’t think to go out of his way to do something like this for people he didn’t really know outside of a forty five minute, twice a week class. Choso was more than proud to be the boyfriend of a person so thoughtful and generous to a fault; it was one of the reasons he fell so hard in the first place. You never needed a special reason to be kind to someone. And of course, it helped that you were still the most adorable thing he had ever seen in his life and the last few months had been nothing short of heaven.
Except, the cake was red velvet. Choso stands by the teacher’s desk, staring at the cake. It was his favorite flavor. He told you that not long ago and you had promised the first time you made it, it would be for him. 
The cake is beautifully, painstakingly decorated, a perfect ratio of cake and fluffy frosting, sprinkled in bits of dark chocolate; the matching icing spells out ‘Happy Birthday, Satoru!’ in delicate, looping letters across the top. You obviously put a lot of care into making this for Gojo. That afternoon you had been the first person to arrive, followed shortly by another student, Suguru Geto; he wasn’t in the same speech class, but he was Gojo’s best friend and knew some of the class already, so inviting him was a given. The two of you had left to find a lighter and candles, hoping the school store in the basement of the building would provide something suitable. You told Choso he didn’t need to come; you noticed he had seemed a bit drained from studying and his recently acquired part time job, so you insisted he just hang back and relax while you and Geto went to obtain the finishing touches for the cake. 
For the past two minutes Choso has stood in place where you left him, eyeing the cake so innocently sitting atop the cleared off desk. He didn’t know it would be red velvet. Gojo had a sweet tooth and would probably love it. 
Surely this is too much for just an acquaintance. The recipe is a lot more difficult than the stuff you’ve made before, Choso saw there were more steps and more factors that could go wrong and ruin the cake’s moist and spongy texture. Skeptically, Choso narrows his eyes at the round, two tiered dessert. Most of the girls in your shared class offered to bake, but you were the one with the most experience and Gojo had eagerly picked you for the task. You must have felt obligated to make the cake perfect.
Choso’s frown deepens; he is your boyfriend. You promised you would make a cake like this just for him. A gesture like this could easily be taken the wrong way too and you’re so sweet and self effacing, he’s sure the idea of Gojo choosing you to personally make his cake didn’t mean anything at all.
It should be for him.
“What…what happened?”
The smile fell from your lips mere seconds after returning from the school store; Geto, insisting on carrying the purchases, had just been relaying a funny anecdote of one of his and Gojo’s misadventures as the two of you walked back into the now empty classroom. On the ground, right next to the base of the professor's sturdy wooden desk is nothing short of a mess. 
“My cake,” your hands come up to cover your gaping mouth. “What happened?!”
Geto approaches the desk with a confused frown; the cake and the plate it had been placed on are both on the floor. It seemed to have fallen top first, the icing and frosting smeared over the tiles and the plate broken into pieces around it. 
“It fell.” Geto states simply, although not without some incredulity. “Was it close to the edge?”
“No, I, well,” you struggle to recall exactly where you had placed the cake before you left the room. “I didn’t think I put it that close to the edge.”
“There’s frosting streaks on the side too’ it must have just toppled over.” Geto points out with a keen eye, kneeling a bit, bags still in hand. “It might have just been a bit uneven, a little heavier to one side?” he stands to his full height and smiles at you sympathetically. “These things happen, just a little bad luck. I’m sorry, it was a beautiful cake.”
“But everyone’s going to be here soon,” you fret as you search through your bag. “Geto, I’m going to go buy another cake, there’s a store nearby, I’m sure they’ll have something. Oh and I’ll find a custodian, oh no, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe this is happening-”
“Let me go.” Geto places a hand over your tensed shoulder. “It makes more sense, I know what kind of cake Satoru prefers the most. There’s plenty of time and a few others promised to bring drinks and snacks.”
“But I said I’d bring the cake. At least let me give you the money for it?” you hold up a few bills with a pleading stare. “I feel horrible, I should have been more careful where I put it.”
“Don’t beat yourself up; you are the one who did the work to make it.” Geto chuckles but accepts the money if only to make you feel a bit more at ease. “Maybe it’s better this way: with how good that cake looked, I’d wager you might have ended up with that glutton badgering you for more sweets.”
You return his smile as well as you can. “Thank you. I’m just being silly.”
“You’re fine.” Geto says firmly, but not unkindly. “You call a janitor, don’t try to clean up this alone; we wouldn’t want you to get a cut from trying to pick up pieces of that plate. I’ll be back before you know it; Satoru would sulk all afternoon if I don’t get him something anyway.”
“You’re a good friend.” you smile at Geto gratefully. “Thank you, I’ll call someone right away.”
You do just that shortly after Geto takes his leave; most of the custodians have already left for the day, except for one woman. She promises to be there as soon as she’s done with a request from one of the professors in the neighboring building; she sounds pleasant enough, but you feel pangs of guilt as you hang up and take a seat closest to the teacher’s desk. 
“Bunny? Are you okay?”
“Choso, you’re back!” you look up and wave at him, trying to sound cheerful; he glances at the ruined cake and back to your pained smile. “Ah, were you looking for me? I guess we just missed each other, the basement elevator was out of order, so we took the stairs. What a mess, huh? Geto thinks one side was a little heavier and it made the cake just flop right over the edge. Some bad luck, right? He left to get a cake and the custodian will be here soon, so make sure not to step on the plate bits.”
“Hey, slow down. I’m not worried about that.” Choso’s brow furrows as he studies your shaky smile. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal, accident…accidents happen.”
You bite your bottom lip harshly as your eyes begin to sting; before you know it, tears are slowly slipping down your cheeks. You quickly avert your eyes, too embarrassed to see the pitying look cross Choso’s face.
“Oh Choso, I feel so stupid. I can’t believe I put the cake that close to the edge! Ugh, I should have paid more attention, I told everyone I would make this amazing cake and I messed it all up and now Geto has to go all the way to the stupid store to get another one because I wasn’t careful!”
“Did he get mad at you?” Choso asked sharply. “Did he blame you?”
“No, no, Geto didn’t do anything.”  you bow your head and wipe at your wet cheeks. “He was really nice about it, so was the janitor on the phone about the mess, but I still feel bad. Gojo was just telling me he was really looking forward to the cake too. I’m sure he’ll be disappointed to get a store bought cake and I promised I’d take care of this for the party. Sorry, I know I’m being a crybaby, I should just suck it up, I’m the one who ruined things, I shouldn’t be feeling sorry for myself.”
“No, you didn’t. It’s not your fault.”
You raise your head and Choso is standing in front of the table between him and you; his hands are gripping tightly around the strap of his duffel bag. You wipe the last of your tears and look at him, your chest swelling at how upset he is on your account.
“You’re so sweet. Just having you to vent to makes me feel better already; I’m really just being dramatic, I’ve been stressed out and-”
“It’s not your fault.” Choso cuts you off quietly; he still isn’t looking at you. “It’s mine.”
“What? Baby, no, I didn’t expect you to watch the cake; it’s on me for not making sure it wasn’t so close to the edge, you didn’t do anything.”
“I pushed it.”
Choso’s knuckles are white: he’s strangling the strap of his bag between quivering hands. Finally, he looks into your bewildered eyes
“Choso, is this some kind of joke?” 
“I didn’t want him to have it and, and I thought he might get ideas since you worked so hard to bake it. He flirts with all the girls and you did say you were going to make it for me first.”
“You’ve got to be joking.” you shake your head and all but leap up from your chair. “You? How could you? And you were going to let me think it was my fault?!”
“No! It was supposed to look like an accident, I didn’t think you’d be so upset,”
“So it was okay for me to be ‘kind of’ upset? Choso, how could you?” you ask him again, voice raising, almost echoing in the empty room. “It’s just a cake!”
“Yeah, it’s just a stupid cake, that’s why I didn’t think you’d get this upset!”
Choso’s mouth clamps shut as your anger gives way to a look of utter hurt. 
“Wow.”
“I shouldn’t have said that-”
“Thanks a lot, Choso. Yeah, that really makes it better. Was that your plan? Swoop in and play the comforting boyfriend while I feel like a big idiot? Or maybe you just don’t consider my hobbies anything special; anyone can make a cake, right?” Fresh tears well up in your eyes as you tug your bag over your shoulder. “Nice to know what you really think.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Choso says reproachfully. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded, you’re putting words in my mouth!”
“You know what?” you shake your head and unzip the front section of your bag; clumsily you yank out a sealed box and slam it down on the table. Choso recognizes it as one of the little boxes you use to pack individual desserts. “Here, your stupid cake. Surprise.”
The lid of the container is now sticking to the top of the cake but Choso can still make out the messy letters of his name and the heart shaped sprinkles scattered all over the surface. His eyebrows raise as he sees the small, squashed up cake is in the shape of a heart. You glare down at it before turning on your heel without so much as a backward glance.
“Bunny?” Choso snaps out of his trance and begins to follow you. “Where are you going?”
“Away from you.”
“I can explain, just calm down and let me-”
“Leave. Me. Alone!” you stop abruptly in the doorway and give him a nasty look, but you’re barely able to hold yourself back as Choso fixes you with a heartbroken stare. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down when you’re the one who threw a fucking tantrum. Enjoy the ‘stupid cake’, jerk!”
You slam the door in his face and rush down the hall to the nearest entrance, not particularly caring about where you’re going, just as long as you can get as much distance between you and Choso as possible. When you finally get home, you text Geto an apology for taking off and a nondescript explanation for your absence before turning your phone off. You’re exhausted and skip dinner to just curl up in your bed, burrowing in a blanket as if you could shut out the world. Choso’s t-shirt, the same one you’ve been sleeping in nearly every night, is balled up and thrown somewhere across the room; eventually you fall asleep, eyes rubbed raw and nose stuffed as you drift off, hoping maybe this was all just a bad dream.
When morning arrives and you manage to force yourself into a sitting position, it takes you a minute or two to realize the gentle knocking isn’t a leftover remnant from your deep slumber, but a very real sound coming from your front door. You wrap yourself in a robe and slip on a pair of house slippers, equally confused and irritated as to who could be knocking on your door when the sun is barely over the horizon. Just as the knocking stops, you peek through the peephole; there’s no one there. You rub your eyes and unlock your door with a sigh, expecting a leaflet from some early bird salesman or religious group to be stuck in the hinges. Instead you nearly trip over a huddled up mass taking refuge on your doorstep when you didn’t immediately open your door.
“Choso?! Oh my god, you scared me!” you’re still breathing a bit heavily, heart racing thinking a stranger had collapsed on your porch. “What are you doing here?”
“I,” Choso scrambles to his feet; you finally notice in his hands are two cups of coffee, one of which is your usual order, but the largest size. He holds it out to you. “Good morning. You weren’t answering your phone.”
“I turned it off.”
After a beat, you take the cup on autopilot, more preoccupied with the man standing at the threshold of your home. The circles under Choso’s eyes are darker than ever, in addition to how red and irritated they are around the edges, his hair is oily and limp. On closer inspection, you see he’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday; now they’re more wrinkled and the slight odor coming off them tells you he hasn’t showered yet. 
“Can I come in?” Choso asks, his voice weak and barely louder than a whisper. “I have to talk to you.”
“Fine.” you frown but move aside and open the door wider. “Here, come with me, I left my phone in my room.”
Choso does as he’s told, but trails after you at a slight distance, at least in comparison to how closely he usually stays to you. He’s shivering; it’s the middle of winter and he isn’t wearing even a jacket. How long had he been knocking on your door? How long had he planned to wait there outside? You banish the thought and busy yourself disconnecting your phone from its charger on your bedside table. Choso stands awkwardly in the middle of your room; he hasn’t taken so much as a sip of his coffee or taken his eyes off you, at least as far as you can see. 
“Did I wake you up?” he asks worriedly. “I’m sorry. I was going to wait but I thought you might have gone somewhere and you weren’t answering your phone, so…” he goes silent seeing his shirt in a crumpled heap in the corner of your room. “I just wanted to talk to you as soon as possible.”
You barely heard him, jaw dropping at your phone’s screen as it fully turns on to show you 32 missed calls, 15 unheard voicemails, 18 unopened texts, and 5 emails, all from Choso over the course of the night. You tap your thumb on the latest voicemail.
“Bunny? Bunny, can’t you just talk to me?” A shaky, nearly unrecognizable croaking comes from the speaker: Choso’s strong voice sounds strained, almost inaudible at certain points, as though he had been screaming until his throat was raw. “I know you’re probably sleeping…or maybe you don’t want to talk to me ever again-” A sharp, wrecked sob crackles over the speaker but Choso manages to steady himself again. “But I need to…I need to hear your voice. I’m so sorry, I’m so, so fucking sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t hate me. I love you so much it hurts. I’m going to stop by tomorrow, I need to see you. I know I messed up, I need help. My bunny? I can’t…oh god, I can’t do this. I-I feel like I’m dying, I’m…I love you. I love you, I love you, just please-”
Your heart drops to your churning stomach as Choso’s words morph into broken, unintelligible sobs. Finally after a few seconds, the other end goes quiet and the voicemail ends. A recorded voice tells you there’s still 14 more previously skipped voicemails; Choso has remained standing, stiff as a board and looking miserably at you. You take a seat on the side of your bed, staring bewildered at your phone; you decide to not listen to the other voicemails.
“I’m sorry.” Choso says in an absurdly small voice. “Can we talk?”
You’re holding the coffee in your hands on your lap and taking a deep breath before raising your face. “Choso, why did you do it?”
“I didn’t do it to hurt you. I don’t think your baking is stupid. I was being stupid.” Choso’s cheeks burn in shame. “I was jealous Gojo was getting the cake first, or I thought he was, and I just…I didn’t want him to have it. It’s always like this.”
“What do you mean?” you ask him slowly, tempering your own indignation. “Do you think he would flirt with me? Or that I would cheat on you?”
“No. I just get so...everyone likes you. So, what if someone better comes along? What if you stop paying attention to me?” Choso shakes his head quickly, gripping his hair like he wants to yank it out. “I have thoughts like that all the time. It's awful. I knew you would be sad, but I really thought it would only be a little and then I could make it better and you would…rely on me more. I don’t want you to get close to anyone else.” he lowers his arm to his side limply. “I know it’s wrong. Are you gonna bre-break up with me?”
You don’t speak just yet; your eyes study his drawn, exhausted face. Choso isn’t trying to make you feel bad for him, you know that much. The truth doesn’t make you feel much better though. 
“I was really mad at you yesterday. I needed space.”
“I know, but-”
“Listen,” you say firmly. “Whatever the reason, that was a really rotten thing you did. It was just plain mean and selfish. Sure, you didn’t really mean to hurt me, but you did. You purposely messed up something I put a lot of work into.”
“I know.” Choso’s expression is desolate. “I like that about you. I love that you do nice things for people even if you don’t have to. Y-you’re so careful and considerate of other people. I was being selfish and it was so, so fucking stupid. You would never do something like that to me…you’re so good to me.”
“Choso, this isn’t just about yesterday.” you soften your tone, mindful of your volume. Choso looks as if one cold word from you could shatter him into a million pieces. “If you were willing to trash something I put a lot of work into for such a petty reason, it’s making me second guess things and now I’m wondering if maybe you’re not the person I thought you were. Is it more important to keep me dependent on you than for me to be happy?” You set your cup down on the nightstand, trying to keep your voice from cracking. “Maybe this isn’t going to work out.”
“Don’t say that.” 
Choso all but drops his coffee onto your dresser, barely glancing at it as he rushes to you; he lowers himself down on his knees, eyes glistening with both unshed tears and sheer adoration as he looks up at your pained face. You let him hold your hands, still folded in your lap, as Choso rests his forehead on your lap. They’re ice cold; how long had he been waiting outside?
“It’ll never happen again. It shouldn’t have happened at all. I know I could have just talked to you, I know you would have listened, but I didn’t even give you a chance, I just did what I wanted. I’m not nearly as kind as you.” Choso admits, words muffled as he buries his face into your thighs. “I don’t deserve you, but I need you. I’ll do whatever you say until you trust me again. Do you hate me?”
“Choso, I never hated you, I was just hurt.” you squeeze his hands gently. “The only reason I got so upset in the first place is because I love you so much. Hell, the cake for the party was more practice than anything so I could make you an even better cake. If you were worried, you should have just told me. You’re not some evil person from feeling jealous, but what you did was wrong. I really need to know that you understand where I’m coming from, I don’t want us to break up or anything. Did you really think I was trying to end things yesterday?”
Choso nods, head still resting on your thighs. “I thought you blocked me on everything. I thou-thought you didn’t ever want to see me again. I should have waited, Eso even said you probably just needed some space, but…I’m so used to being with you, texting you. I was going crazy.”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to ghost you. And I’m sorry for calling you a jerk.”
“I am a jerk.”
“No, you acted like a jerk,” you nudge Choso’s shoulder to get him to look up; he does, taking in your face with those pleading puppy dog eyes you can never resist. “I forgive you. I love you baby, so, so much.”
“Bunny,” Choso’s lip wobbles and fat tears roll down his cheeks and chin, dripping onto your hands. “Thank you. I’m sorry I made you cry, just thinking about it makes me want to-to-” he sniffs and clenches his teeth against a whine. “I’m just sorry. I love you. I missed you so much. I couldn’t sleep knowing you were hurting because of me and I wanted to come here right away, but I thought if I did you’d really be fed up and-”
“You didn’t sleep?!” you slowly sit and move so you’re seated further up the bed; Choso follows suit, basically crawling over your pillows and covers to be next to you, tears still streaming down either side of his face. “Choso, lay down baby, you should take a nap. You’ll feel better, believe me. We can talk more later and get something to eat.”
“‘So good to me.” Choso tugs on your arm. “I want to cuddle.” He immediately moves over so you can hold him, laying on your sides as Choso stares balefully up at you through blurry eyes. “Can I have a kiss?”
“Choso, you need sleep.”
“Please?” he mutters, eyes lingering on your pouty mouth. “Need a kiss.”
“Okay, just a little one.”
“Thank you. You’re always so good to me…”
You knew those basset hound eyes would be the death of you: what started out as a tender, chaste kiss swiftly evolved into big hands massaging your breasts, then fingers tugging at the sash of your robe, and finally you being pushed onto your back as Choso holds you down in a mating press. 
“So good!” Choso can’t stop letting out choked moans, so loud, they almost drown out your cries, pushing your thighs closer to your chest, somehow, some way forcing his cock impossibly deep. There’s hints of pain but the pleasure you get from his cock head rubbing against that little spot just behind your clit was overriding all of it. 
“Baby, gotta slow down, you’ll break me at this rate.” you moan, helpless as Choso ducks his head down to lick and suck on your almost painfully sensitive nipples. He had been playing with them obsessively, pinching, rolling, sucking, even leaving dark love bites all over your breast.
“Love you, missed your pussy so much, thought I was gonna, gonna die!”
“Oh god, Choso, please, please baby, it’s too much!” your head lolls side to side; he’s made you cum three times already. Your pussy is a sopping wet mess and it’s all you can do to not pass out as Choso’s thick cock stretches you open over and over again, surely bruising your cervix. “You’re so-ah!” you let out a piercing shriek that only seems to spur him on to go harder. “So deep in my pussy baby, I can’t-”
“Just a little more, I’m so close,” Choso huffs, looking down at you with heavy lidded eyes, cheeks burning and hair sticking to his forehead; he’s a mess from his own sweat and your slick covering his pelvis where he just won’t stop pounding into you. “You look so good like this, I could fuck you forever…gonna cum so hard, give it all to you,”
“Cum in me,” you sweep his damp hair off his forehead with a faint, fucked out smile. “I want to feel it dripping out of me…can you be a good boy and cum in my pussy?”
“Yes, yes! Oh fuck, yes!”
Choso kisses you roughly, hips rolling into yours, barely pulling his cock out at all, as though he wanted his cum to go as deep inside you as it could go. It’s hot and spurting into your battered insides; thankfully Choso has enough strength left to hold you up as he humps your plush, limp body like a dog in heat. 
“Mine,” he groans, thrusting once more with a violent shudder. “Only mine.”
You suppose it’s not the best idea to encourage him, but you nod anyway, shaky hand in his hair to pet the tangled strands, chest heaving and light headed as Choso pulls his softening cock out slowly so as not to hurt you. He pants against your neck, curled into your side and using his wide palm to rub gentle circles over your hips and thighs.
“My poor bunny.” Choso mutters fondly as his fingers trail over your twitching thighs. “I’ll do better. You won’t regret this. I’m gonna get a bath ready for you, okay?”
“Th-thank you.”
“Sh, just relax, don’t get up.” Choso moves sluggishly to take the box of tissues from your nightstand; the coffee he brought you has somehow not been knocked off in the frenzy. “You’re so cute like this. I’ll wipe you off a bit first, nice and easy. Does it hurt down there?”
“Not really; feels more numb actually.” you roll your head to stare at him directly, meaning to look at least a little serious but you come off more like a grumpy kitten. “Don’t think just because you made me almost pass out that I forgot everything from the past 24 hours mister. I’m holding you to your word.”
“Yes ma’am.” Choso agrees with a hum as he wipes at the mess between your legs. “Thank you again…I still ate the cake you made for me. It was really good.”
“Oh right.”
“Yuji said you should have thrown it in my face.” Choso adds, a bit sheepish at the memory. “I almost didn’t eat it: I thought it would be the last thing you ever gave me…”
“Choso,” you smile at him sadly. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you?”
“Uh huh.” Choso brings you into his arms, careful not to jostle you too suddenly. “Just scared. I’ve never felt this way before.”
“Never?”
“No.”
“Why are you scared? Do you still think I want to break up?”
Choso shrugs. “What if the more you get to know me, the more you see bad things?”
“What kind of bad things?”
“If…if I could, I’d keep you with me. Sometimes when we’re alone, I don’t want to let you go. Then I start wondering if trying to keep you safe will just make you unhappy with me or that I’ll scare you off and then…” A single tear escapes Choso’s eye and he draws you in closer to his chest. “I don’t know what I’d do. Compared to you, I’m really selfish and short sighted.”
“No one’s perfect. I’m not.”
“You're just saying that to make me feel better.”
“I overthink things and get worked up over upsetting people. I hold myself to unattainable standards.” you list off tiredly. “And I keep doing this thing where I shy away from letting people really…know me. Like if they do, I’ll just let them down. I feel like an imposter half the time when you say all these nice things about me. You’re the first person I’ve actually wanted to know me, warts and all. It’s worth getting to be with someone like you, Choso. That’s just how relationships work; you’re always risking getting hurt or disappointed when you let people love you…when you love someone. And I love you.”
“Um…is it bad that I feel happy I’m the only person you talk to like this?” Choso sniffles. “Sorry. I’m being selfish again.”
“Maybe a little, but for the right reasons.” you grin and wipe a thumb under his eye. “For the record, it makes me happy you think of me so highly. You make me feel special.”
“You are special and anyone who thinks otherwise is stupid.”
“Does that include me then?”
Choso looks visibly panicked. “Wa-wait, that’s not what I meant!”
“I know, I know, sorry baby.” you kiss him before he starts into another round of apologies. “That was just a little payback. Ah, Choso!”
“Not funny.” Choso grumbles, bundling you into the blankets as you giggle and let out a faux fearful squeal; the sly quirk of his lips betrays his actual intentions. “After your bath, I’m gonna give you a real reason to scream.”
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mysticalserenity-tarot · 4 months ago
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🧸♡ what they like about you♡🧸 (Pick a pile)
{How to pick a pile? First, take a deep breath with your eyes closed to clear your mind. When you open your eyes, don't hesitate – pick the image that immediately grabs your attention or stirs up a memory. Remember, you can pick more than one pile if you feel called to. If none of the images stand out for you, it means there's no message for you at this time. You can always come back to it later.}
⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。 ⋆⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。
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Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3 (from left to right)
Hello, and a huge thank you to everyone for your incredible support! I'm so glad that my first Pac has been so well-received.
In this collective pick a pile reading, we'll delve into what your specific person likes and appreciates about you. You can consider this the continuation of my first Pac, if you prefer. Let's see where your energy takes us.
Disclaimer: This is a collective reading I picked up on multiple energies, so please only take what resonates and leave the rest. When something resonates you usually feel a light energy and in your heart you can feel it's your message, and the pic that attracts you is a clearly sign.
⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ ⋆ ゚ ☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。 ⋆⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。 ⋆
🧸PILE 1🧸
2 of Pentacles, the Hierophant, Page of Swords. (top: 4 of Pentacles)
Hi Pile 1, and welcome to your reading. Let's dive in!
This is a delightful and quircky energy. As multiple cards representing the number 2 kept coming out. Your person seems to want me to know that they love how you balance your light energy with your dark energy underlining the importance of this aspect in their mind, and they feel a connection because they share similar traits - from you previous reading, I sensed this affinity. This is either my spiritually inclined collective or those who resonate with a sense of inner peace and balance. If you've chosen this pile, bravo! You've made the right choice! [ it's okay if you're new, welcome <3 ]
I sense that many of you are in your prime years, and your person appreciates your vibrant youthful energy. Regardless of your age, they believe you'll fill a void and complete them, like a "missing puzzle piece", as I just heard. Many of you have a deep love for reading and acquiring knowledge, which may or may not be associated with formal education. I sense that you might prefer solitude, perhaps engrossed in your favorite book, while your classmates or colleagues (if in a work setting) are gathered discussing different things. Therefore, your person finds captivating the way you immerse yourself in your activities amidst the 'chaos' surrounding you. Some even observe and admire you from afar, potentially without your awareness. Your person finds you inspiring and loves how you handle problems with patience and diplomacy, without letting anger and stress take over. They also appreciate your thirst for knowledge and how you're curious about diverse topics. Your person values how secure you are in yourself and how you stand by your values and beliefs.
Overall, they are drawn to your mysterious yet serene, and intellectual nature, making you almost like an enigma to them. 🧙‍♂️✨
Thank you for allowing me to read your energy, Pile 1.
Note: -If you enjoyed this and my other readings, and you'd like to support me further, you can do so on my ko-fi, I'd greatly appreciate it. It's not mandatory.
-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading through my Tumblr DM or email [[email protected]]. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity. We can decide the price together.
🧸PILE 2🧸
The Star, 9 of Swords, the Tower. (top: Ace of Swords)
Hi Pile 2, and welcome to your reading. Let's dive in!
Ah, Pile 2, based on the energy of the cards, your person has clear ideas about what they appreciate about you.
You possess strong manifesting skills and when you are certain about what you desire, you make it happen, I'm hearing the song "I Want It, I Got It" by Ariana Grande in my mind. For you, I have two cards confirming your innate manifesting power. You may have powerful water placements or inner planetary influences in your water houses (if you're not into astrology and don't know what i'm talking about, please feel free to ask). Some strong air energy is also sensed, whether it pertains to you or your person - one of you has great communication skills even. Your person finds it remarkable that you can create positive outcomes in adverse situations, emerging even stronger after initial doubts or negative emotions. This is not only temporary but a trait your person admires in you.
The energy here feels mature, likely older regardless of your age (old souls, perhaps?), indicating that some of you actually laugh in the face of adversity due to an innate ability to rise above struggles. Your determination draws your person's admiration; they struggle while you have clear goals and pursue them despite what others may think. You may receive sudden insights or instincts, unaware of their source, which are hints from the divine. Your person loves your strong will and determination, which they lack and need. This is one of the reasons they're attracted to you. I'm also sensing some popular individuals here, possibly on social media. Your determination, strength, and success have garnered success, with many followers and admirers, including your person. However, for those not yet successful, if you stick to your path and mindset, you'll reach your goals. Best of luck, my dears! 🍀🧿
Thank you for allowing me to read your energy, Pile 2.
Note: -If you enjoyed this and my other readings, and you'd like to support me further, you can do so on my ko-fi, I'd greatly appreciate it. It's not mandatory.
-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading through my Tumblr DM or email [[email protected]]. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity. We can decide the price together.
🧸PILE 3🧸
Queen of Wands, The Sun, the Lovers. (top: Knight of Cups)
Hi Pile 3, and welcome to your reading. Let's dive in!
Wow, your cards are amazing, Pile 3! This person is head over heels in love with you, and the question is, what do they like about you? As I look at the cards as a whole, I'm feeling an intense passion surrounding you. They're burning with desire for you - sparks or flames, especially the color red may be significant (and for some a sign that is your pile!. Some of you may have worked or are working on your Root Chakra, which fuels this intense passion. I'm not supposed to do a spicy reading here but I'm feeling really hot lol. It's important to not a strong presence of two Major Arcana cards in a positive and powerful sequence, underlining this passionate hidden desire. Your person admires your overall positivity and passion for life, or specific interests. You may be a hopeless romantic, and they find this endearing. They perceive you as a powerful and passionate leader who remains unfazed by gossip about them and actually enjoys the attention.
It's intriguing that the Knight of Cups appeared on top of the deck in my previous pick up pile and has come up again here. You and your person may both be dreamy and romantic souls. In summary, your person appreciates your positivity, harmony, and artistic nature. You might be a creative individual, perhaps making unique art or being an enthusiast of it. They are fascinated by you and have vivid fantasies, like going to an art museum together.
I'm seeing blue stars on a blue neon ceiling in a potential art museum setting, which could be significant for some of you - and also the color blue. Now, very specific, maybe someone here has created a drawing or work with stars or blue stars on a blue background and shared it with their person and they're reminding me of it, or you or them work in a planetary museum? Take it how it resonates. Anyway, how cute! 💙
Thank you for allowing me to read your energy, Pile 3.
Note: -If you enjoyed this and my other readings, and you'd like to support me further, you can do so on my ko-fi, I'd greatly appreciate it. It's not mandatory.
-For further guidance or a personalized reading, feel free to book a reading through my Tumblr DM or email [[email protected]]. I'm here to help you navigate life's challenges and find clarity. We can decide the pricetogether.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ANY LIKE/REBLOG/COMMENT IS APPRECIATED, ALSO IF YOU LET ME KNOW IF IT RESONATED.
PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK.
ALWAYS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EACH ONE OF YOU'S SUPPORT, I'M GRATEFUL 🤗🤍
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Please note that I used AI language bot to help improve grammar and spelling in my readings, as English is not my first language. However, the interpretations and insights provided in my readings are all my work, based on my intuition and the cards' symbolism.
Disclaimer: Tarot readings are for entertainment purposes only and are not meant to predict or dictate your future. The cards provide insights and guidance, but the ultimate power of choice lies with you.
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flowercrowngods · 9 months ago
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Steve startles awake, disoriented and filled with a slight bout of panic — as always when he takes a nap that turns into five hours of deep sleep and catapults him right into the next dimension for a while there.
Heart racing, he blinks his dark bedroom into existence, and it takes him a while to realise where he is and what woke him up.
And then the landline phone on his nightstand rings again, and he exhales deeply before reaching for it with clumsy, sluggish movements.
“‘Ello?”
“Steve,” comes Eddie’s sing-song voice from the other end, washing over Steve in a soothing way that leaves him falling back into the pillows. He clutches the phone to his ear as he closes his eyes, the smile already forming at how happy Eddie sounds. He rarely sings Steve’s name like that. He should do it more often.
“Hi there.” His voice sounds like shit. Like he just took a — Jesus Christ, has it really been four hours? Well. He sounds exactly like someone who took a four-hour nap after a shit day at work would sound like.
There’s fumbling on the other end, but it stops suddenly. “Did I wake you? Shit man, I thought it was past nap time.”
“I don’t have nap time,” Steve grumbles, actually pouting at Eddie’s words and realising only a second too late how ridiculous he sounds.
“Sure, man, whatever you say. We all know you’re actually just a life-sized toddler.”
Steve sputters, sitting up against his headboard as he gradually wakes up. “Hey! Also, I don’t think you actually understand what life-sized means.”
“Yes, I do.”
Steve shakes his head at this ridiculous, ridiculous man. “What exactly do you think a non-life-sized toddler looks like, Eduardissimo?”
“Like Dustin.”
The answer is so quick and deadpan, Steve cannot contain the laugh that bursts out of him, waking him up quicker and gentler than anything else in the world could have, and he revels in the sound of Eddie joining him. He must look so smug right now, and so damn proud of himself. Steve wants to see him. Wants to kiss that smile right from his lips and replace it with something a lot more genuine.
“You’re an asshole,” he says instead, pulling his blanket further around him as he lifts his knees to sit more comfortably.
Eddie hums, still teasing somehow with just that noise, and Steve just can’t stop smiling. “You like me so much, Harrington.”
“Hmm,” he mirrors Eddie’s hum, but even he can hear the smile on his face. “Jury’s still out on that one, actually.”
“Any tendencies yet on the verdict?”
“Nope, they can’t decide.”
Eddie snorts at that, and Steve has no idea how that can sound so sweet. But it does. He buries his smile in his knees for a bit, the blanket hot around his burning cheeks. He’s hopeless.
“Well, let me know as soon as they do, yeah?”
“Will do,” he laughs, ruining all his attempts to sound solemn. “So what’s up? Why’d you call?”
“Oh!” And suddenly it’s like a switch has been flipped and Eddie doesn’t sound teasing and smug anymore, but instead just fucking giddy! “I have a bed now!”
Steve smiles at it. At that voice, that tone, that infectious emotion. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah!” More fumbling on the other end, and Steve can only imagine that Eddie is rolling around in his newly acquired bed.
Who’s the life-sized toddler now, hm?
“No more sleeping on the floor for this Munson boy, nuh-uh, my good sir! We are in possession of a bed now. A wooden bed, no fancy headboard or anything, just…”
“Just a bed,” Steve says, feeling like he’s about to burst into a million little particles of fondness and affection and the never-ending need to kiss Eddie. To hold him. To touch him in any way he can. “That’s great, Edsie.”
“It is, Stevesie.”
“Man, I hate you so much,” Steve squints at the ceiling and laughs, actually kicking his feet, the minute breeze providing a little relief for the heat in his face.
And Eddie has no business to sound so smug when he says, “Yeah, you do.”
A pause then, and it feels loaded even through the phone. Steve clutches it closer to his face, hoping stupidly that Eddie can feel it.
“You should come hate me in my new bed.”
Steve’s breath hitches, and his brain shuts off for a hot second there. Before he can overthink this, he decides to just… play along. And listen to what his heart has been telling him for months now.
“Oh yeah?” he asks, breathless still, but his whole body tingles with just these two words. With the possibility they bring. The offer that they are. The question. The everything that’s stored in them.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, and he sounds just as breathless. “I mean, if— If you want to?”
“I do.” Steve swallows. “Right, uh— Right now?”
“Whenever.” And it sounds more like an As soon as possible.
“Okay,” Steve breathes, scrambling out of bed as quickly as possible, pulling off his shirt with the phone still pressed to his ear, letting out an embarrassing noise as it gets tangled in a mess of cord and fabric. He scrambles to free it, almost dropping it in the process. “I’ll be there in thirty.”
“To come look at my new bed?”
“Sure.”
On the other end, Eddie laughs again, but he still sounds just as breathless as Steve does. Just as excited. As fragile. Just as many fucking things.
“Alright,” Eddie murmurs, though Steve can still hear the smile. “I’ll see you then.”
And then he hangs up before either of them can get lost in their own heads about this sudden certainty of change. Steve is grateful for the steady noise of the dial tone reminding him that this is happening. But that nothing has to happen.
It’s a nice bed, he finds hours later, fingers combing through Eddie’s hair who’s cuddling him half asleep. It’s the best fucking bed he’s ever seen, if only because it led to this.
🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 (lmk if you want on or off)
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fullfriendnerdclutch · 20 days ago
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Halloween is Around the Corner
This is why I hate Halloween with the common people. They cannot appreciate how I'm not only dressing up as a firefighter, I'm WEARING a firefighter, a studly one at that.
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Yeah he is a firefighter in real life so taking out this costume is real easy because this is literally his uniform, but c'mon now, the folks simply don't understand how difficult it was for me to acquire this costume. It was real brutal and I almost failed to jab the syringe to that thick neck of his, but I managed to did it by the end of the day, hence here I am standing here ready for an early Halloween celebration by testing out my costume.
Now, what do you think if rather than mixing with the common crowd, we have a Halloween party with all the TF enthusiast out there instead? I know some of yall have stash of interesting person to wear, possess, puppet around or whatever, but let's do something fresh for this year. Consider this an early Christmas unboxing, an early New Year resolution, go for that new body and let's appreciate each other's story on how we managed to really up the bar for Halloween this year.
Already heard some plan about some of you dressing as the classics; police officers, sporting team coaches or even leather daddy, which sounds solid.
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Some of yall also informed me that yall planned to dress up as stereotype like failed-star-turned-OF-influencer, douchebag frat bros or deadbeat blue-collar worker, which might be a bit touche and God forbid yall got affected by their mindset and found yourself struggling to get out of such personas after the party, but hey, I trust that you know what you're doing so that's should be okay.
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But my ears perked up when I heard that one of you slid inside a loving, health-conscious, family man with 3 kids and planned to make him do some lewd act a responsible member of society like him will never do.
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That's as bad as sleeping with a girl you have a crush on by possessing her boyfriend, that's not nice bro, that's manipulation, but hey, who am I to judge?
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I mean I'm literally turning a respectable, hard-working firefighter just to fulfill my hedonistic desire for a one night party, so please, you do you. Just inform me how do you want to come to the party and how many people will you bring so I can properly prepare to welcome any of you. Just don't be a giant or some kind of gory type of cosplay, okay? Let's not complicate a night filled with bunch of people not really looking like themselves with possible crime or property destruction. Oh yeah, almost forgot. If you found this invite at the very last minute and have no costume yet, I have some suits of my crew from the firehouse if you want to borrow them. I figured that why not just spiked the entire firehouse since I'm inside their captain anyway, my associates are using them now for cover but on the 31st, they'll be in another bodies and these are available for you to borrow. First come, first serve though, you cannot ask me to keep it for ya.
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So, see you later folks, better dress up well
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jihyoruri · 2 months ago
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 HYPNOSIS ahn yujin x reader
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↳ warnings idol!au, fluff, oc group, yn is an awkward loser and yujin is obsessed with the voice
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ECLIPSE had become the name on everyone’s lips lately, and for good reason. when was the last time yg entertainment launched a punk girl group? never. it was fresh, bold, and something so out of the ordinary for an entertainment like yg, exactly what the industry didn’t know it was missing.
yujin vividly recalls the first time she heard a track from the group. the song was called "amnesia." sure, the other members had incredible voices, but there was one in particular that caught her ear.
the girl didn’t get many lines, but when that voice emerged, it was mesmerizing, almost haunting. yujin couldn’t get it out of her head, if she could, she would have that voice on repeat forever.
it made yujin want to find out who the girl was and immediately ask her how did she acquire such a voice and not be the main vocalist?
rei called her a solo stan for that comment.
and sure, yujin could’ve easily found out who that voice belonged to, but there was something thrilling about the mystery.
she knew their faces but had no idea who sang which parts.
there was something fascinating about not knowing, just hearing that voice without attaching it to a name. the mystery made it even more captivating.
then yujin found out ive would be appearing on a variety show with none other than eclipse. as much as she was a little disappointed that her game of mystery was coming to an end, she couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement.
she wondered what the girl was really like. with a voice like that, she had to be flirty and fun, the kind of person who could charm anyone without even trying.
well…
“eclipse, introduce your names,” one of the mcs said, gesturing toward the four girls. yujin, seated with her group, who had already introduced themselves, scanned the faces of eclipse, hoping to figure out who possessed that voice that had her hypnotized.
“I’m arang the amazing leader of eclipse!”
too high pitched.
“I’m irene, the main vocalist of eclipse!”
nah.
“I’m yn.”
everyone chuckled at the quiet girl’s simple introduction. arang playfully smacked yn’s arm, and yn winced, looking up at the leader. “ouch, you know i have tender arms,” she said, earning another round of laughter from the room, including yujin.
“introduce yourself properly!” arang scolded, while yn adjusted the glasses perched on her face, the sides adorned with sparkly skulls. “I don’t know what I am…”
“she’s our secret weapon.” Irene says saving yn from another slap on her arm, “our secret talent.”
“yeah… I’m that,” yn said a little louder, causing another wave of laughter.
as much as yujin felt a certain pulling towards the girl, her voice was too low.
“I’m celestial! the charm of eclipse!”
that could be her…
“alright you guys can have a seat!”
“so,” the mc starts, “before we go into the haunted house, eclipse prepared a surprise performance for us!”
the girls of ive clapped their hands while yujin mind started racing, this is gonna be it, she’s gonna find out who that voice belonged to.
as eclipse began to sing, yujin kept her eyes fixed on celestia. she had to admit, when celestia introduced herself, she didn’t feel that pull, not like with yn, but still, she fit the image yujin had in her mind of the voice she’d been searching for.
but as the song progressed, yujin quickly realized: celestia wasn’t the one. the song was already a minute in, and she hadn’t heard the voice that had been haunting her thoughts.
celestia had sung a few lines, but it was definitely not her. irene and arang had also had their parts, and still, nothing.
which only left one possibility…
when the bridge of the song came, yujin’s eyes widened. yn was singing. her voice washed over the room, higher and mesmerizing, and yujin felt the same way she had when she first heard it through her phone completely hypnotized.
as they finished yujin was left speechless, not even clapping along with her other members.
“ah, so amazing!” the mc praised the girls, “so this is how it’s gonna go, you guys will be split into groups and a camera will follow you on your journey throughout the haunted house.”
“arang, wonyoung, rei and irene!”
“celestia, liz, gaeul and leeseo!”
“yn and yujin! you two will be in a pair.”
yujin looked at yn who seemed like she was in internal distress that she was separated from her members, she couldn’t help but find the slight pout on the girls face cute.
“there are different entrances that you’ll go through,” the mc continued. “keep your partners close, and have fun—or be insanely scared!”
as they began preparing for the haunted house, yujin couldn’t stop sneaking glances at yn. the girl was quieter than she expected, almost shy, which didn’t match the captivating voice yujin had heard.
and yet, there was something else. a slight awkwardness about her, sure, but also a tomboyish charm in the way she moved like she wasn’t trying too hard to be anything other than herself. 
she watched as yn stood awkwardly in front of celestia who harshly pushed yn towards yujin.
“shit,” yn muttered under her breath, and yujin couldn’t help but chuckle at her awkwardness.
“nervous?” yujin asked, her voice teasing.
yn looked up from fiddling with her belt, which had a large skull buckle, clearly using it as a distraction. “huh? oh, no, i’ve been through plenty of haunted houses,” she replied, her voice calm, though her hands betrayed her. “you?”
yujin watched as yn quickly adjusted her shirt after realizing she’d tugged it up while fixing her belt. yn’s slight fidgeting made yujin grin. “i get scared sometimes…” she admitted, her gaze steady on yn.
yn scratched the back of her neck, eyes flicking up to meet yujin’s. “cool…”
the moment they stepped inside, the air grew thick with tension. eerie sounds echoed around them, and yujin, who was walking slightly ahead of yn, jumped at the first scare, a hand that reached out from the wall. she yelped, stumbling back and nearly crashing into yn, who caught her just in time. 
yn quietly laughed keeping one hand on yujin’s shoulder while the other one adjusted the glasses on her face, “scared sometimes?”
the sound sent a shiver down yujin’s spine, her face heating up despite knowing yn wasn’t trying to be flirty. still, that low voice, so close, caused an unexpected flutter in yujin’s stomach that she couldn’t quite ignore.
yujin shook her head, “heavy on sometimes, wanna walk in front of me?
yn shrugged and went in front of yujin, seems like she wasn’t lying when she said she wasn’t scared.
so why was she fidgeting earlier?
even though she didn’t seem scared that didn’t stop the quiet girl kept muttering under her breath, clearly uncomfortable with the whole experience.
throughout the whole haunted house yujin watch yn in front of her.
she watched how yn awkwardly stumbled through the scares, yujin found herself strangely charmed.
yn wasn’t the flirty, party type she’d imagined. she was dorky and awkward, but in a way that yujin found oddly attractive.
every time yn tripped over something, or yelped at a random noise, yujin’s heart softened a little more.
“you’re really not a fan of this, huh?” yujin asked, glancing down at yn, who was still holding onto her arm, “you don’t seem scared though?”
“nope,” yn muttered, glancing around warily. “Inhate it, though”
a girl with a batter school uniform jumped from behind one of the corners causing yujin to loudly gasp immediately gripping onto yn’s arm who didn’t make a sound but had wide eyes behind her glasses.
yn unintentionally hooked her arm with yujin’s and dragged the older girl the other way, “okay that scared me, I almost shat myself.”
yujin couldn’t help but laugh at the girls words, knowing the editors would definitely have to bleep that out.
yn didn’t seem to notice it but yujin did, even when they were now far away from the girl yn didn’t unlink her and yujin’s arms keeping the girl close beside her throughout the rest of their journey through the house.
they eventually made it to the end of the haunted house, both of them visibly relieved as they stepped out into the light.
yujin stole another glance at her, watching as she adjusted her glasses for what had to be the hundredth time that night. yn’s messy hair, her slightly ruffled clothes, and that sheepish expression on her face, it shouldn’t have been attractive, but to yujin, it was.
as the filming wrapped up, yujin felt a nervous energy building in her chest. she’d spent the entire time getting to know yn in this weird, unintentional way, and now, all she wanted was to spend more time with her.
before yn could walk off to join her members, yujin hesitated for a second, then blurted out, “hey, can i, uh, get your number?”
yn blinked at her, looking almost surprised. “my number?”
yujin nodded, suddenly feeling self conscious. “yeah, you know, just to…keep in touch?” she handed yn her phone.
yn fumbled with her phone, clearly caught off guard. “oh, uh, sure. here.”
as yn awkwardly handed yujin back her oh won number, yujin smiled, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment. she had no idea where this was going, but for now, she was content just having this quiet girl with a beautiful voice’s number in her phone.
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messiahzzz · 1 year ago
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i have seen several posts around that addressed how discouraging gale from taking the crown of karsus is “keeping him from realizing his true potential.” that tara is merely upset at his choice, instead of being utterly devastated at the loss of her little love. that it’s not a bad ending per se because to get there he didn’t need to sacrifice 7000 innocent souls in the process. gale isn’t continuing the cycle of abuse either, he still appears to love tav and does come back for them to offer them ascension. he wants them to be equal, so it can’t possibly be an unhealthy dynamic, right?
but what of gale himself, his own convictions, values, and everything he holds dear? everything flawed and human that shaped him into the person he is?
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player: are you saying you want to ascend? claim godhood?
gale: no, not like that. i don't want to join them. i want to better them. a god's powers, paired with a mortal conscience, a mortal heart.
gale’s motivation for acquiring godhood is that he will able to aid mortals in a way no other god has ever done before. he won’t hide behind pretense nor require blind devotion of his followers. he will understand and be able to empathize. he wholeheartedly believes that he will be different - he will act.
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gale: [..] the gods could aid us if they wished, but instead they cower behind ao. so let us act ourselves.
gale believes that by becoming a god he will kill two birds with one stone: aid mortals and acquire enough power to quash any of his insecurities and enemies in the process. that by ridding himself of every perceived flaw he'll finally feel like he will have enough to offer - maybe, just maybe he'll even be content. his flaws are merely holding him back from becoming the best version of himself, and by ridding himself of everything fallible, he will be whole. maybe this is what all of his suffering has led up to. maybe the orb chose him. maybe the reason he had to endure all the pain, isolation, and excruciating loneliness was so that he could realize that he was meant for something even greater. after all, power feeds ambition. and what is more powerful than a god? his convictions were certainly naive, he possesses enough knowledge to know better. don't get me wrong, part of him definitely wants to spite mystra a lil. but his intentions at that time were mostly pure. a reflection of his self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy.
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player: this is wrong, gale. that power will corrupt you, even if you can seize it.
gale: it won't, i swear to you. it's merely a tool - a means to an end.
once we meet gale at the party in his new godlike form, it is apparent that even with all the power at his fingertips, he has reached no greater knowledge about himself. his insecurities are still as present as before, he merely is less subtle in his compensation - repeatedly highlighting his grandeur and how dull life on faerun is compared to the wonders of elysium. it is also genuinely crushing to see how little he thinks of himself even now.
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gale: i was nothing. a drifting dust mote of a wizard, abandoned by my goddess, my powers lost, my reputation destroyed. and look at me now. i'm their proof.
any perceived dismissal of his Greatness™ is met with immediate disdain.
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gale: a bold decision to treat a divine being with such cold indifference.
nodecontext: aloof, annoyed you weren't impressed with him
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gale: you mortals do love to live dangerously, don't you?
nodecontext: the slightest hint of a threat - you've probably made an enemy here today. or at least, you've lost a friend.
he is still desperate to impress. emphasizing what an honor it is that a new-born god chose to bless their little soiree with his presence. gaze upon all his divine glory! gale has now become the embodiment of everything he criticized about the gods. his original intentions and plans are discarded and long forgotten. he assuages his erstwhile companions by telling them to simply pray to him, in case they should ever require aid. if they're lucky and their ambition pleases him, he might even deliver.
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player: what does the 'god of ambition' offer to his followers?
gale: i 'offer' them nothing. i inspire them to seize their destinies for themselves.
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player: interesting, so you help mortals help themselves?
gale: precisely. though that isn't to say i'm averse to the odd bit of direct encouragement.
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gale: [..] my aims are set a little higher than offering cursory blessings to just any half-decent spellcaster.
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gale: regardless, ethical quandaries are more the remit of my mortal devotees. they do love to talk, and faerun is starting to listen.
aiding "any half-decent spellcaster" is unbefitting of his status. he isn't concerned with questions of ethics and morality either. deeming such matters beneath his divine capabilities.
once gale has ascended and established his domain, what remains of the gale we knew? what of his mortal heart?
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minthara: your ambition is not cruel, but you fear that if you indulge it, you will lose yourself in the mysteries of the weave and unravel the world.
minthara: you are afraid of so many things, and it is that fear that keeps you true to yourself.
gale did lose himself and ultimately became one of his biggest fears. considering that his existence as a being of pure ambition leads him to constantly seek out greater heights, it isn't farfetched to believe that raphael's prediction will indeed come true.
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player[astarion]: ambition? finally, a god i can get behind...
gale: i assure you, this is merely the prelude to a far grander vision. elysium's in for something of a shake-up.
all that remains of gale is a thin veneer of the person he used to be. what he presents is a hollow echo of the old gale. he does retain some of his mannerisms and quirks, but he is definitely a lot colder and more condescending. if his personality already changed that drastically after a duration of only 6 months, what will he inevitability turn into when he has eternity at his disposal?
essentially, you are aiding gale in the eradication of himself. eradicating everything about him that made him into the loveable, charismatic, awkward, kind, buoyant person he was. everything about him that he perceived as defective, flawed, and lesser-than. before, his hubris was merely an expression of his own discontentment and low self-worth, but now he is hubris incarnate. all of his worst qualities have been amplified.
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gale: i am ambition incarnate. as indistinguishable from that most potent sensation as mystra herself is from the weave. and word is spreading.
nodecontext: palpable, almost unsettling excitement from him - hint of megalomania
he put his trust in tav, trusting their judgment and relying on them to nudge him in the right direction. after all, they had plenty of opportunities to show him that they are an ally worth following and confiding in. but in the end, the prospect of what he could be, the things he could give them, the enemies he could yet conquer, won over the desire to simply accept him and help him rebuild a life on solid ground. tav denied him the unconditional love he craves most out of their own selfish desires.
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tara: you were looking out for him. i expected better of you.
as i've already mentioned, gale desires nothing more than to be seen, accepted, loved, and valued. having a partner who wholeheartedly supports and believes in him is enough to make him feel content. most importantly - he just wants to live. to enjoy life with everything it has to offer. his ambition can’t be quenched because he hungers still. believing that only by acquiring more power will he finally be enough and reach said acceptance.
we see in his good ending that his own contentment was even able to influence and (temporarily) sate the orb's ever-present hunger:
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gale: [..] or perhaps the orb's hunger was fuelled by my own, and my contentment influences it in much the same way.
gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.
it is devastating that he doesn't reach the same feeling of fulfillment if he chooses to pursue godhood, and is instead compelled to continuously surpass his own accomplishments. not being granted rest or reprieve.
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gale: i achieved everything we hoped i would, and still i'm not good enough for you?
gale pursuing godhood isn't evidence that he "has been evil all along" or that he "just waited to be unleashed" either. we can't diminish tav's influence in this outcome, they are after all an extension of the player. able to steer every companion toward a path of redemption or to enable them in their worst traits. fandom has already established that by letting astarion ascend you are actively supporting him in becoming the very thing he despises most, putting your own ambitions and idea of what you want him to be above his healing, this is no different.
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tara: the gale i knew wasn't like this. he recognised his mistakes. he was contrite. all he wanted to do was live.
tara: unfortunately, he fell into company that turned his gaze towards foolishness. yes, i mean you.
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player: gale is his own man, tara.
tara: false. he was mine. though now he belongs only to his own pride.
yes, the epilogue cutscene is beautiful and there is something bittersweet and romantic about his love for tav being one of the few emotions that remained a constant throughout the past 6 months. he didn't need to come back for them, but he did cause he loves them still. no matter how warped his definition of love may be now. while it is abundantly clear that tav ranks lower on his priority list than they did before, his commitment remains.
gale fears isolation, hoping to never return to the time when he was hopeless and alone, stuck inside his tower. by heading in this direction he is once again creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.
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tara: [..] if i pretended you hadn't turned tail on every lesson you set out to learn, i'd have no right to call myself your friend.
morena may as well have already resigned herself to her son’s death. elminster partly blames himself. for his lapse in judgment, as well as being the one who plucked him from obscurity in the first place. mourning the kind, bright-eyed boy who cried at the scorched roses in his neighbor's garden. tara won't be here anymore to care and look out for him either. he has lost his oldest and dearest friend, the one who witnessed his downfall from grace and never left his side. who believed him to be the finest mind AND the finest wizard she's ever had the pleasure to know. who was certain that he’d find a way out of any crisis no matter the circumstances. ...and if tav declines his offer to ascend with him? what does he have left?
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gale: yes, i am rather radiant, aren't i?
tara: don't flatter yourself, gale. you've debased yourself in ways i could never have fathomed.
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tara: goodbye gale, i hope the heavens are worth it.
gale’s godhood ending deals with the loss of humanity, the loss of oneself, and everything one holds dear. it is a devastating and bone-chilling narrative. it is a tragedy.
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gale: i hope you don't think less of me. great ambition should not come at the expense of what you already hold dear. i see that now.
if gale could see himself, he would be horrified at the losses he deemed necessary to get here. he would be horrified at what he’s become.
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loveemagicpeace · 7 months ago
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Saturn lord of karma
Saturn is considered the most powerful planet in astrology and also the planet that is the most difficult to know. For many years, they believed that Saturn was bad, but the negative turned out to be one of the better planets. All other planets lose energy, which is especially true for the planet Mars.
Saturn in Taurus- excessive exaggerations towards materialism. The cause is a strong conscious or unconscious fear of losing property, visits or possessions. People with this position feel that they are not important without money. They may have a fear of poverty. Because by having money, they can enjoy things and have the feeling that they cannot do without material things. They see life as real, serious, uncompromising. They are hardworking and always save money. They are persistent, motivated and want to be successful.
Saturn in Virgo- these people are hard-working, diligent, focused on everyday activities. They work a lot on their health and body. Many times, however, they can be subjected to excessive strain due to their health. These people are perfectionists, precise, thoughtful and very good at what they do. They are very good analysts. Accepting responsibility can be hindered by a lack of faith in one's own abilities, suspicion and fear that they will not satisfy society.
Saturn in Capricorn- here Capricorn is at home and in a comfortable position. He knows how to organize perfectly, he is reliable, solid, responsible. He can be a great leader. An individual with this position wants to be an example to other people, because he wants to be socially and socially important, because he has a desire for power and control. He has very high life goals, he wants to be a successful and respected member of the social community. He has important insights early in his life, but he learns the most from his own experiences.
Saturn in Gemini-the ambitions of these people are related to learning, studying, teaching, acquiring specific knowledge. These people are interested in many things and can also be people who start something but don't finish it because they can't decide what it is that really attracts them. However, the individual may have a tendency to control and overthink each person. It can also be a source of strict upbringing (that he must not say what he thinks). A career can be related to journalism, public speaking, literature.
Saturn in Libra- the area of relationships has the greatest influence on the development of these people. A source of acquaintance, diplomacy, understanding, love and business relationships. But this is the most difficult and the biggest challenge for them. People want to highlight justice, seriousness, affection, kindness, patience. They may feel a great responsibility towards partner relationships. Therefore, they always approach them very seriously. However, they may be hindered by the fear of losing their partner relationship. Many times they have high criteria when it comes to love. The profession of the field is usually related to fashion, science, art, politics.
Saturn in Aquarius- symbolizes solidity, thoughtfulness, progress of ideas, innovativeness. These people can achieve a lot by inventing something. But there are usually people who don't like to follow the rules and do exactly the opposite of what they should. It can cause melancholy, dissatisfaction. Lanka limit freedom of thought. Many times these people want to do things their way. He perceives the world as a place where every person should have the same opportunities for development and social establishment, or professional success. This position is characterized by a scientific-systematic thinking approach, which through experiences achieves a high level of internal crystallization and ingenious mutual logical connection. Such a situation leads to loneliness and problems in partnerships and relationships, because the life principles of these people are very unusual, but at the same time advanced and hard to understand by contemporaries. It also indicates extraordinary creative restlessness, nervousness, unpredictability and a tendency to make radical changes. Due to strict upbringing and limitations in childhood, they later try to make up for it with an exaggerated tendency towards freedom, independence and detachment.
Saturn in 2nd house-This position indicates great insecurity, which is associated with a lack of self-confidence and self-worth. The very slow development of the value and value system is characteristic. There is a probability that the individual's upbringing in his youth was associated with poverty, deprivation, misery or even hunger. So now you are working on getting all the needs. A person can identify himself with money, material goods, or with his wealth, this becomes his only way of asserting himself in the social environment. When a person realizes that money is not everything and begins to change his lifestyle, he sees things differently.
Saturn in 3rd house-The third house tells something about the way of thinking, intellect, basic education, ability to communicate, about gathering information, movement over short distances, means of transport, brothers and sisters and about conditions in the immediate environment. Saturn in the 3rd house creates order, discipline, strictness, responsibility and orientation towards a specific type of self and information. Checks if the information is correct. If a child is exposed to too strict control of information, he may have problems with expression and vocabulary. He can be the target of criticism and constant monitoring of what and how he speaks, thereby exerting psychological pressure on the child. Later in life, the individual has difficulty developing an authentic exchange of information, speaks quietly or reservedly, or is ashamed of what he said. Usually, individuals with this position are very intelligent, have good concentration and great depth of thought. A child with this Saturn position is very diligent and a good student in elementary school. You can be stubborn and value the knowledge that was gained based on experience and practical observations the most. It may happen that one of the brothers or sisters "plays the role of Saturn". This means that, as an older child, he puts himself in the role of a guardian or an authority that must be listened to and obeyed. You are very careful when you drive vehicles, so there is not a high probability of accidents and accidents, unless Saturn is strongly afflicted.
Saturn in 6th house-Daily habits and tasks (for example, hygiene, cleaning, house order, principles of behavior, etc.) are very precisely determined, as the individual demands absolute order and compliance with the established rules. They may be inclined to find themselves in a very demanding job, where there are high standards and requirements that must be met unconditionally. Service is sometimes such a burden with this position of Saturn, that the individual can bear it with difficulty. Work conditions can be made more difficult by a colleague, which has an extremely burdensome effect on the individual, reduces his work morale and tries to devalue the individual's work and efforts. The pressures at the workplace are often so heavy that a person is no longer able to perform their work correctly and with high quality. Prav sesta house points to a close psychosomatic connection between work processes and health, which are also cyclical in their essence. In order to maintain health, it is necessary to be allowed to rest, to eat properly and healthily, to be physically active and to be allowed to sleep. A person's health is most burdened when the individual is burdened day in and day out with the problems and disappointments he experiences in life, and at the same time he sleeps poorly, does not feel well, eats improperly and does not exercise enough.
Saturn in 7th house-The position of Saturn here represents lasting love and marriage relationships, what he expects from personal and business partnerships, how he relates to business clients and other people, and to open opponents and lower courts. This position of Saturn is otherwise demanding, as it shows that relationships are the theme of life that will berequired the most effort, effort, patience, tolerance and perseverance. Balancing the relationship with such a partner is a difficult task, because she strictly insists on her views and principles, which means that it is difficult to expect any changes. Says even to such a choice of a partner who will first test you, isolate you, then reject you and ultimately disappoint you. The question arises how to mitigate or even prevent this. The answer lies within search, contemplation, tolerance, humor and in-depth communication between partners. An individual may choose a partner much older than himself because he is experienced, stable, reliable and financially secure, but he is dissatisfied with him because of inflexibility, old-fashionedness and ageism and other limitations bring a lot of problems into the relationship. You can also be afraid of living alone, but at the same time you are afraid of problems in a partnership.
Saturn in 10th house-The tenth house tells something about career choice, business success and professional reputation, relationship with the public and relationship with parents. The top of the tenth house (MC) indicates concretely expected achievements in life and the realization of the individual's public ambitions. Saturn is extremely well placed in the tenth house, which is why its position is also solid and strong. The individual is fully ready to take responsibility for social achievements, show himself as an honorable person, fulfill his ambitions and become a real authority. Success is the ultimate goal, no matter how difficult the path to it is. Relationship with parents and upbringing are very important in this position, because the more visible of the parents requires discipline, order, rigor and systematicity. It is interesting that the ambitions we feel later in life are proportional to the pressure on the child's identity in the early life period.
Saturn in 11th house-this house tells something about relationships with friends, about group activities, hopes, wishes and expectations in life, about large organizations and events over which the individual has no influence. It is typical for Saturn here that the individual shows his superiority and isolation within the group and behaves like a "lone wolf". He has problems if he wants to establish occasional friendly contacts, because he acts strict, aloof and defensive. People who have been presented to him as "acceptable", i.e. those whom he meets through family, business, religion or interests, rarely receive him warmly, so he feels unaccepted in this social structure. An individual with Saturn in the eleventh house is painfully aware that he is not welcome anywhere, but at the same time he is overwhelmed by a deep feeling of loneliness and detachment.
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tarotwithavi · 1 year ago
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Mercury in the houses
Mercury in astrology represents communication, intellect, and the way we process information.
For entertainment purposes only!
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Mercury in the 1st House
People with Mercury in the first house are usually chatty and outgoing. They express themselves readily and might come across as talkative or even a bit animated. They've got quick minds and love to engage in intellectual conversations. They often have a witty and clever way with words.With Mercury in the first house, they make a strong first impression. They're articulate and can be quite persuasive when they want to be. These folks are curious by nature. They're interested in a wide range of topics and are always eager to learn something new. Communication plays a big role in their lives. They're good at conveying their ideas clearly and might even excel in fields like writing, public speaking, or journalism. Sometimes, they can't turn off their racing thoughts. Their minds are always buzzing with ideas and plans, which can make it challenging to relax.They're not afraid to speak their minds and often have their own unique perspective on things. They value their independence in thought. Their appearance often reflects their communication style. They might have a sharp, well-groomed look that complements their articulate way of speaking.They can be influential in their social circles because they know how to communicate effectively. Others often turn to them for advice or guidance. They adapt their communication style to different situations and people. They can be serious and professional when needed or fun and lighthearted in social settings.Their active minds can sometimes lead to restlessness. They might have a hard time sitting still for too long or focusing on one thing for extended periods. Their natural ability to communicate and lead can make them excellent leaders in various fields. They're not afraid to take charge and make things happen.
Mercury in 2nd house
These folks often think a lot about money, possessions, and their personal values. They may have a strong desire to acquire and manage material resources. Their communication tends to be practical and focused on tangible matters. They're good at discussing financial plans, budgeting, and investments. They place a high value on their words and might be careful about what they say, especially when it comes to money matters. They believe that clear communication can lead to financial success. Mercury in the 2nd house individuals are usually financially savvy. They can analyse financial situations well and may have a knack for making money through communication-related skills, like sales or negotiation. They're resourceful thinkers who can come up with innovative ways to manage their finances and assets. They're not afraid to explore different options. They might have a strong attachment to their material possessions. The idea of security and stability is closely linked to their belongings.Their ability to communicate effectively can directly impact their financial situation. Good negotiation skills can lead to better deals and financial gains. Many of them highly value education and may invest in it as a means to increase their earning potential. Lifelong learning is a theme for them. They can be sensitive to criticism about their financial choices or values. Negative comments in this area might hit them harder than in other areas of life. In relationships, they may have possessive tendencies, particularly when it comes to shared resources. This can lead to conflicts if not managed well. They often have strong opinions about what they consider valuable, and they're not easily swayed by others' ideas. They trust their judgement when it comes to money matters.Money and how they manage it can tie into their sense of self-worth. Achieving financial stability can be closely connected to their self-esteem.
Mercury in 3th house
They're naturally talkative and love to engage in conversations. Whether it's with family, friends, or strangers, they're always up for a chat.Their curiosity knows no bounds. They're eager to learn and explore new things, and they often have a wide range of interests. The 3rd house is associated with siblings, so these individuals might have close and communicative relationships with their brothers and sisters. They enjoy sharing ideas and stories with them. They're keen on exploring their local neighbourhood or community. You'll often find them knowing all the ins and outs of their town or city. Mercury in the 3rd house folks thrive in social settings. They're skilled at networking, making connections, and maintaining friendships.They have a sharp mind and can think on their feet. This makes them great problem-solvers and adaptable in various situations. They might excel in various forms of communication, from writing to speaking to using technology. They're comfortable with words in all their forms.These individuals might frequently take short trips, whether for work or leisure. They enjoy the change of scenery and the opportunity to meet new people.Learning never stops for them. They're often taking courses, reading books, or engaging in activities that expand their knowledge.While they're great communicators, they might sometimes struggle with being too scattered or overloading themselves with too much information. They have a knack for explaining things clearly, which can make them excellent teachers or mentors. They can break down complex topics into understandable bits. On the downside, they might be drawn into gossip or spreading rumours if they're not mindful of their words. They should be cautious about what they say and to whom.
Mercury in 4th house
These individuals often think and communicate in a way that's closely tied to their family and home environment. Family matters, traditions, and memories play a significant role in their thought process. They are natural caregivers and nurturers. When they speak, it's often with a sense of warmth and care. They excel in making others feel comfortable and understood. Emotional bonds with family members are a big deal for them. They may have deep, sentimental attachments to their childhood home or the place they grew up. People with Mercury in the 4th house often prefer staying at home or within their comfort zone. They might enjoy activities like cooking, decorating, or simply relaxing in their familiar surroundings. They have a sentimental streak, treasuring mementos and keepsakes that remind them of cherished moments from the past. Old photos and family heirlooms hold special meaning. Traditional values and customs are important to them. They might enjoy participating in family traditions and passing them down to the next generation. This placement can also indicate strong communication with parents, especially the mother. They may rely on their parents' advice or be in frequent contact with them. Privacy is a big deal. They might be selective about who they let into their inner circle and value a safe and secure home environment. Mercury in the 4th house folks enjoy reminiscing about the past. They often engage in conversations about their childhood, family history, and shared memories. Some of them might be interested in real estate or home-related businesses. They have a knack for understanding what makes a house feel like a home. Education might also be closely tied to the home environment. They could be homeschooled, or they find it easier to study and learn when they're in a comfortable, private space. Creating and preserving happy memories with loved ones is a top priority. They might go to great lengths to ensure family gatherings and events are special and memorable.
Mercury in 5th house
These folks are born with a flair for creativity and self-expression. They often use their words to entertain and captivate others, making them great storytellers, writers, or performers. They approach life with a playful and youthful intellect. They might enjoy games, hobbies, or activities that stimulate their mind and bring out their inner child. The 5th house is associated with love affairs and romance, so these individuals tend to communicate their feelings in a romantic and charming way. They're the type to write love letters or plan elaborate dates to impress their partners. When they're in love, they're not shy about expressing it. They might be the ones to shout their feelings from the rooftops or shower their partners with affectionate words. Drama and theatrics often play a part in their communication style. They can be a bit dramatic at times, whether it's for effect or because they genuinely feel things deeply. They approach new ideas and projects with childlike enthusiasm. This can make them passionate and excited learners and creators. The 5th house also relates to taking risks, so they might not be afraid to speak their mind, even if it means pushing boundaries or challenging the status quo. Many of them have a strong affinity for the arts, whether it's painting, acting, dancing, or any form of artistic expression. They find joy in creative outlets. They often make great teachers because they infuse fun and creativity into their lessons. Learning from them can be an enjoyable experience. They have a natural charm and flirtatiousness in their communication, which can be both entertaining and enticing. Since the 5th house is associated with recognition, they may have a deep desire for their ideas and talents to be acknowledged and appreciated by others. They value leisure time and often use it to engage in playful activities, whether it's going to amusement parks, enjoying a night out, or simply having fun with friends.
Mercury in 6th house
These individuals pay meticulous attention to details. They thrive on organising information and often excel in jobs or tasks that require precision and accuracy. They take their work seriously. These folks may have a tendency to become workaholics, dedicating a lot of mental energy to their job or daily responsibilities. Mercury in the 6th house people are excellent problem solvers. They have a knack for figuring out practical solutions to everyday issues and can troubleshoot effectively. Their communication style at work is clear and efficient. They prefer straightforward and practical conversations, making them great in roles that involve instruction or management.This placement often makes individuals health-conscious. They pay attention to diet, exercise, and overall well-being, as maintaining good health is a priority for them.They thrive on routines and schedules. They like to plan their days meticulously and might get flustered when unexpected disruptions occur.The 6th house is associated with service, so these individuals often find fulfilment in helping others or working in service-oriented professions such as healthcare, teaching, or customer service.They analyse situations thoroughly before making decisions. While this trait can be useful, it can also lead to overthinking or hesitation at times. They have a perfectionist streak and may struggle with feeling that nothing is ever quite good enough. This can be a source of stress for them. They excel at tasks that require repetition or attention to detail, like data entry, research, or quality control. Their communication style at home might be more practical and focused on daily chores and responsibilities. They prefer to keep their home life organised. They can be prone to worrying about their health, work, and daily responsibilities. Learning to manage anxiety is essential for their well-being.
Mercury in 7th house
These folks have a gift for gab when it comes to one-on-one interactions. They're smooth talkers who can charm the socks off almost anyone. The 7th house is all about partnerships, and with Mercury here, communication is central to their relationships. They thrive on intellectual connections with their partners.nThey're drawn to partners who stimulate their minds. They want someone they can have deep conversations with, and they won't settle for superficial connections. They tend to be open to different viewpoints and are willing to listen and learn from their partners. This open-mindedness can make them great collaborators.Mercury in the 7th house people have a knack for negotiation and compromise. They can smooth out conflicts and find solutions that work for everyone involved. When tensions arise in their relationships, they're skilled at using words to defuse the situation. They avoid harsh confrontations and opt for diplomatic language.They often have an extensive network of friends and acquaintances. They enjoy socialising and making new connections, which can benefit their partnerships. Their relationships tend to start with a strong mental connection. They need to have intellectually stimulating conversations to feel connected on a deeper level. They may have idealistic expectations when it comes to love and partnerships. They believe in the power of communication to overcome any obstacles. Sometimes, they can come across as flirtatious even when they don't intend to. Their natural charm can be misinterpreted by others.They may attract partners who are talkative or involved in communication-related fields like writing, journalism, or public speaking. Balancing their own needs and desires with those of their partners can be a lifelong lesson. They might struggle with being overly accommodating at times.
Mercury in 8th house
These folks tend to have deep, intense thoughts. They're drawn to topics like psychology, the mysteries of life, and anything that delves beneath the surface. Mercury in the 8th house people can be quite secretive in their communication. They may not readily share their thoughts and feelings with just anyone; trust needs to be established first. They have a natural curiosity for uncovering hidden truths. Whether it's researching a mystery or diving into complex subjects, they love to dig deep. These individuals excel at research and uncovering information. They're like natural detectives when it comes to finding answers or solving puzzles.When they do speak, their words can carry a lot of weight. They have a knack for getting to the heart of matters and can be very persuasive when they want to be. Many with Mercury in the 8th house have an interest in the occult, astrology, or other esoteric subjects. They're drawn to the mystical and hidden aspects of life. Their intuition is often spot-on. They can sense things on a deeper level and might have premonitions or gut feelings that guide them. They're not afraid to tackle intense and transformative conversations. They can help others confront their fears and heal through communication. Privacy is a big deal for them. They may value their own privacy fiercely and respect the privacy of others.They have a complex and sometimes mysterious way of thinking. They're not satisfied with surface-level explanations and are always seeking the deeper meaning. In financial or business matters, they often have an interest in shared resources, joint ventures, or investments. They're good at managing other people's money too. They can have a talent for understanding the depths of the human psyche, making them great therapists, counsellors, or researchers in psychology-related fields.
Mercury in 9th house
These folks have a natural curiosity and love for exploring new ideas, cultures, and philosophies. They're like mental adventurers, always seeking knowledge and expanding their horizons.They often engage in deep, philosophical conversations. You might find them pondering the meaning of life, the universe, and everything in between over a cup of coffee. Mercury in the 9th house individuals are open-minded and accepting of different beliefs and perspectives. They're not quick to judge and are willing to hear diverse viewpoints. They have a way with words. Their communication style is often eloquent and persuasive, which makes them great debaters and storytellers. These folks have a strong case of wanderlust. They might love to travel, explore new cultures, or engage in higher education abroad. Their minds are always on the lookout for the next adventure. They tend to be optimistic thinkers. Even in challenging situations, they see the silver lining and have faith that things will work out for the best. Education is a big deal to them. They might excel in academia and have a thirst for knowledge that keeps them lifelong learners.They often think big and communicate ideas on a grand scale. They're not limited to the details; they want to understand the bigger picture. Learning and speaking foreign languages might come naturally to them. They're drawn to the richness of different cultures and enjoy breaking down language barriers. Some of them might have a knack for the law or working in fields related to ethics and justice. They can argue their case convincingly. Their minds are rarely at rest. They're always seeking intellectual stimulation and might get bored with routine quickly. Along with their love for knowledge, they might be interested in spirituality and the metaphysical. They seek to understand the spiritual side of life.
Mercury in 10th house
These folks are often highly focused on their careers and public reputation. They take their work seriously and are eager to communicate their ideas and ambitions to climb the professional ladder. They excel in public speaking, presentations, and written communication related to their job. They know how to convey their thoughts clearly and persuasively, which can be a valuable asset in the workplace. There's a strong desire for success and recognition in their professional life. They're not afraid to voice their goals and aspirations, and they're willing to put in the effort to achieve them. Building a strong network is a priority. They use their communication skills to connect with influential people and expand their professional circles, which can open up doors of opportunity. Depending on other factors in their birth chart, they may be drawn to careers in public speaking, politics, media, or any field where they can be in the public eye. They might find themselves in roles where they're seen as authorities on communication, such as teaching, writing, or media commentary. They often value honesty and integrity in their professional dealings. They want their words and actions to align with their public image. Balancing work and personal life can be a challenge. They can get so wrapped up in their careers that they may neglect other aspects of their life, including relationships. They're acutely aware of how they're perceived by others in their professional sphere. A tarnished reputation can deeply trouble them. Success is a big motivator. They set high standards for themselves and work diligently to meet or exceed them.They can adjust their communication style to fit different professional situations and personalities, making them versatile in various career environments. Some may excel in public relations or marketing roles, where they use their communication skills to shape and maintain a positive public image for individuals or organisations.
Mercury in the 11th house
These individuals are often intellectually inclined and love to connect with a wide range of people. They thrive in group settings, enjoy brainstorming, and often have a diverse circle of friends. Mercury in the 11th house folks are excellent communicators within their social groups. They can convey their ideas clearly and persuasively, making them great team members and leaders. They have a futuristic outlook and are drawn to innovative ideas. They may be involved in cutting-edge fields or have a passion for technology and social change. These individuals are open to different perspectives and are non-judgmental when it comes to the beliefs and ideas of others. They value diversity and inclusivity. Many of them are passionate about social causes and may actively participate in humanitarian or community-oriented projects. They want to make the world a better place. Collaboration is their forte. They work best when part of a team where they can share and exchange ideas freely. They're also skilled at mediating conflicts within groups.Building a broad network of connections comes naturally to them. They know how to use their social contacts to their advantage, whether in their career or personal life. They often have high hopes and dreams for the future. While this optimism is inspiring, they may need to ground their aspirations in reality at times. Their mind is a treasure trove of inventive ideas, and they're not afraid to share them. They can be the ones who suggest unique solutions to problems.Some Mercury in the 11th house individuals may have unconventional or niche interests that set them apart from the mainstream.They value their intellectual freedom and may resist conforming to traditional or rigid ideologies. They're more likely to embrace progressive and forward-thinking concepts.These folks love attending social events, gatherings, and parties. They thrive in environments where they can engage in stimulating conversations.
Mercury in the 12th house
These individuals tend to keep their thoughts and ideas close to the chest. They might not readily express what's on their minds and prefer to operate in a more private and secretive manner.They're introspective thinkers who ponder the mysteries of life and the universe. Their minds are often drawn to profound and philosophical questions. Mercury in the 12th house can grant them strong intuition and psychic abilities. They have a knack for picking up on subtle energies and may experience vivid dreams and premonitions. This placement can give rise to a strong connection with the subconscious mind. They might be interested in psychology, dream analysis, or other fields that delve into the depths of the human psyche. Expressing themselves verbally can be a bit challenging. They might struggle to put their thoughts into words or find it hard to articulate their ideas to others. They often have hidden talents and abilities that they might not even be aware of until they delve deep into their own psyche. These talents can emerge as they explore their inner world. Many develop a keen interest in spirituality, mysticism, or metaphysical subjects. They're drawn to the mystical and seek to understand the unseen realms. They're excellent listeners and can offer a compassionate and non-judgmental ear to those who need it. People often confide in them because of their empathetic nature. When life gets overwhelming, they might escape into their imaginations or immerse themselves in creative pursuits like writing, art, or music to find solace. Some find their calling in healing professions, such as psychology, counselling, or therapy. They have a natural ability to connect with others on a deep emotional level. They're attuned to subtle cues in their environment and can pick up on things that others might miss. This can make them excellent at reading between the lines. Sometimes, they might hold back their thoughts and feelings out of fear of vulnerability or judgement. Opening up can be a gradual process for them.
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These are just my observations/opinion on Mercury through houses. They may or may not resonate. You're free to criticize just be nice about it.
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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago
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tw - unbalanced power dynamics, prolonged imprisonment, wrongful imprisonment.
You’d gotten a key to his office, somehow.
For as much freedom as Wriothesley tried to allow the prisoners Fortress of Meropide, he couldn’t help but wonder how you pulled that little trick off. There were only two copies, one of which he wore at his waist at all hours of the day while the other remained inside a sealed vault, locked behind a code only he knew. He couldn’t begin to imagine how you’d done it, and yet, there you were, emerging at the top of the staircase that led into his only private space, toying with a small bronze key and smiling too brightly for any part of your flawless expression to be genuine. The dubiously-acquired key was slid into one of the pockets of your cover-alls, your smile gifted the company of a breathy laugh, and then, any distance he might’ve been able to keep between the two of you was closed as you clambered onto his desk, stealing what little concentration he still had away. With a sigh, he pushed his chair back, giving you his full attention. This was a familiar routine, one he didn’t have the energy to fight. It wasn’t as if his resistance had ever done much good, not when it came to you.
You spoke first, predictably. He’d never really been the instigating type. “Good morning, your grace.”
“My cigarettes,” he said, nodding towards the corner of his desk where a red-striped paper box had sat a few seconds ago. “If you’re desperate enough to steal, you would’ve tried asking nicely first.”
Rolling your eyes, you produced his missing vice and handed it back to him, but not without snagging one for yourself and stowing it away for later use. It was a minor infraction, though – nothing he couldn’t write off as the price of your visit. “You know,” he went on, leaning back in his seat. “That kind of thing can add time onto your sentence. Not all the guards are going to be as forgiving as me.”
“None of the other guards have anything worth stealing.” Your tone was light, your answer given easily. Sometimes, he tried to picture what you’d look like frowning, yelling, or worse, with pursed lips, clenched fists, tears running down your cheeks as you tried to maintain what little dignity you had left, but he always came up empty. You were good at that – knowing just how much you could show without giving yourself away entirely. If Wriothesley was a crueler man, he may have been tempted to try and take you apart himself. “And even if they did, I’d still come to you first.” His response came in the form of an unimpressed scowl, and you chuckled. “C’mon! Even your heart can’t be cold enough not to find that at least a little bit touching, boss.”
Another sigh, this one somehow more drained than the last. “It’d mean more to me if your rehabilitation seriously,” and then, tapping his leg, “But, my treasured possessions aren’t all you’re here for, right?”
It was your turn to play exasperated, now, to groan and let your head lull to the side as you lowered yourself off of the desk and onto his lap, straddling his thigh and wrapping your arms around his neck. This was part of your routine, too – his favorite part, as loathed as he’d be to ever say that out loud. Try as he might, he had yet to find anything that could compare to the way your weight rested against his, to how your body head warmed just a touch of the chill that’d seeped under his skin and settled years ago. Not many things were able to live in the fortress, not for very long, and yet, here you were, just as radiant as the day the gardes brought you in. If he’d had a more scientific mind, he might’ve thought you were worth studying.
“How long?” Your voice drew him out of his thoughts. He hummed and you repeated yourself, as well-trained as you were rebellious. “How long do I have left before I’m free to go?”
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, resting his hands on your hips. “You can’t expect me to know something like that off the top of my head, love.”
“Yes, I can.” He felt you slump against him, your fingertips brush against the nape of his neck. “When it comes to me, I can.”
He let his eyes fall shut. “I requested another six months be added to your sentence last week,” he admitted, pressing an open-mouthed kiss into your throat “Since you had yet to show any signs of lasting rehabilitation. The Iudex approved it yesterday.”
You were so soft, too – uncalloused despite the pressure of the world above, the brutality of what waited for you below. He’d let you steal as many keys as you wanted to, so long as you never hardened. “This is the third extension you’ve asked for.”
“The longest, too.” He’d let you take anything from him, so long as it meant you never left his little world. “I doubt he even revisited your case. People in the overworld don’t tend to pay attention to the finer details of what does on down here, so long as I keep the factories running.”
For a second, he could’ve sworn he felt you stiffen, could’ve sworn he felt your grin waver where it was pressed into the dip of your shoulder.
Then, you were pulling away, your smile as bright as the sun’s light where it caught on the rising tide and twice as beautiful. “You’re never going to let me go, are you?”
This time, he couldn’t help but smile back.
“Not if I can help it.”
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