#and also the type of person who would really need it spelled out to me that i was dating someone

[jjsanguine]

Heart: what do you think having a boyfriend is like?

Li Ming who has been dating him for like months at this point: like our relationship :)

[cornerstoreclown]

Workshop Fun

Summary: This is a short one-shot (7021 words) where the Reader (female) has an established relationship with Art the Clown, and has been kiiiind of collaborating with him passively. Reader is wearing a dress for the sole purpose of easy access. Reader has a vulva and breasts. 

Contents: Biting, light spanking, ...phone... sex? Having an unknowing participant on the other line is the only way I can word it, light spanking, lots of making out, clothed sex, BDSM, Art being cruel, p in v penetration, finger sucking and light body worship

Author’s notes: Sorry what took me so long to do this, I’ve been sitting on this for years! Male version will be out in a few days. This is LIGHTLY proofread, so keep your expectations at a level where you won’t be surprised if there’s any mistakes. Also once again I am an Art the Clown front zipper truther for my clothed sex kink.

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You loved him.

Did he kill people? Yes. Did he sometimes allude to killing you as well? Absolutely. Has he acted on it yet? Not fully, but you could tell that sometimes he had that compulsion to go through with it, when he’d get that twinkle in his eye.

 Especially when you were up close and personal with him, your bodies merely inches apart, sometimes with him even holding a weapon in hand. He’s a wild animal. A force of evil locked away in the confines of a corporeal body made of flesh and bone.

And yet, all the same, you loved him. The way that his hands would travel across your flesh and explore the parts of you that you never let anyone else. Sometimes he’d leave bruises, other times scratches. Then there were the bite marks. Each intimate encounter would leave you in a different state of mess. He was the lover who was like a cat. One day he’d be here, gone the next. You couldn’t put a thumb on the patterns.

The waits were long, but you’re loyal, and you’re patient. You didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter. You’d wait until the ends of the earth for him. Sometimes during the months that he wasn’t here, you’d dream of him. All of these little fantasies you’d have in your head would sometimes come to visit you behind your closed lids, where reality had no limitations. It would make the ache feel less. Every time that he’d come back, you made sure to find him as quickly as possible the second you heard whisperings pertaining to sightings of him, or any kind of crime scene that felt like it had his signature on it. Sometimes he’d find you first.

Art wasn’t someone who was very materialistic. And money meant next to nothing to Art—the personification of evil had very little need for the vast kinds of desires that plagued man.

But he wasn’t necessarily immune to the pleasures of the flesh, you learned. Despite how for the most part, he remained heavily uninterested in intimacy, he had a few moments here and there, and you capitalized on them when you could. You had a feeling tonight would be one of those nights.

Or, well, you hoped.

Worst case scenario he’d turn you away or ignore any advances, and he has a few times. And that was okay.

You came into his hideout tonight with confidence instilled in you, but yet the excitement still makes your stomach do flips. It’s been too long, and the fire within your chest is reignited. You feel passion, you feel love so strong that it’s enough to keep you up at night, and it has happened plenty of times before. You wonder if he’s got some sort of spell over you, and you’d believe it if that were the case. You’ve never fallen so madly, deeply, for anyone before like you have him. It could be enough to make you physically ill if you thought about how much you loved him. Such a passion came with such a detriment to you.

Past the damaged doors of a since abandoned fairly abandoned warehouse, you have a smooth descent down the stairs, leading you to a type of basement setting. There’s plenty of water dripping. Rats squeaking as they chitter and skitter along. You catch glimpses of them in the dim lighting, but they don’t bother you. As long as you didn’t see a bunch of them with their tails tied together, you wager you’ll be pretty okay.

You dressed up nicely for him tonight.

You weren’t really a dress kind of person, but tonight you made it an exception. It wasn’t fancy or over the top, and by the love of god, it had pockets. You refused to wear heels however, whatever shoes you had that worked and didn’t give you the possibility of breaking your ankle down these flights of stairs was the option you went with. Art might have found it funny if you hurt yourself, but you aren’t too keen on getting yourself dinged up before he gets the chance to do it himself.

The dress was about one thing–accessibility. Easy to lift up, easy for him to slide in right where he belonged.

You loved when he was inside of you, when you’d feel the heat of his heavy breath against the back of your neck. You run your hands over the spot where you last remember feeling the warmth of his breath. You remember being beneath him and feeling as if the very heat that he quietly exhaled felt as if it were smoldering your skin, burning you like the way the flames of hell were supposed to. If being with this clown meant that you’d be burning in the afterlife, you’d gladly bathe yourself in the inferno.

Your stomach flutters.

You shouldn’t be this excited. He’s a murderer. A killer. A man with no morals, and you’re not even sure if he was a man sometimes at all. Yet, his darkness is what drew you in. He was your safe space, and no one would dare come into that space to try and harm you so long as you were in his arms.

When you reach the bottom of the steps, you see it–a single dangling light, and illuminating this dark space is a double door that is plainly rusted. You see a bloody handprint on it. It’s since dried.

You recognize the size of that hand, and feel slightly lighter, just in the moment.

Placing your own hand in the exact space over Art’s bloodied print, you push the door open. The door is a little on the heavy side, but with enough force, the door opens.

“Art?” You call out, making sure that your presence is acknowledged as friendly and not hostile. The room is a little darkly lit, very heavy on the minimum lighting that’s needed to navigate in the space. It most certainly added to the creepy ambiance. Straight ahead, there sat none other than Art. His back was given to you. He was sitting on a stool, hammering away at something on his workbench. He turns his head upon hearing his name, and you see that he gives you a smile, baring his rotted discolored teeth as his eyes are closed. You can see the wrinkles form a little in the corner of his eyes when he smiles.

You liked that. You liked the details etched into his face. It added character among those otherwise gaunt features of his.

“Hey, buddy.” You call out to him, and he gives you a little wave, before gesturing for you to come closer.

You approach him, and once you’re near the bench with him, you can see when you’re close enough that he gives you a once over, assessing you… Judging you, for what it is you’re wearing tonight.

“Like it?” You ask him, twirling from side to side so that your dress splays out a little. It’s simple. Gets the job done. And if it got ruined? No love loss.

Art’s gaze seems fixed on you, first on your dress, then up at you. For a man who doesn’t speak, his eyes seem to say all that needs to be said, as he reaches for the end of your dress and starts to lift it, until you gently smack the top of his hand. Art draws his hand back to his side immediately, glancing up at you, looking a little like a kid that was chided.

Naughty of him, trying to get a sneak peek beforehand.

“Not yet,” You tell him.

Art looks a little irritated, folding his arms across his chest and pouting. At least he seems interested tonight.

You clear your throat, and Art’s attention is still locked on you. He’s watching you expectantly.

“You’ve settled in quite nicely.” It was just yesterday you surveyed the area on his behalf, and helped him move in properly. Already on his workbench, he has got quite a few improvised weapons he’d been working on. Your eyes go to one weapon in particular, and you point at it.

“What’s that?”

Art turns to look at the weapon you’ve pointed out, and when he lifts it to proudly show it, it’s exactly what it looked like–an improvised flail. Attached to a long metal rod, is a long wire, and when your eyes follow to the end of the wire, you see wrapped around in such an intricate and meticulous way are a variety of knives, serving as what would be the ‘spikes’. You’re impressed. He even hands it to you, to which you take it. It’s got a decent weight to it, too. Not too heavy, but not too light.

“Woah.” You say, as Art watches you, quite proud of how dazzled you are. He’s an artist at heart, you knew this. The knives have some rust on them. One of them looks stained from a previous bloody encounter. He’s clearly working with whatever he’s got on him.

“If anyone survives this, they better pray they don’t get tetanus.” You muse, and Art’s face twists in amusement in a silent laugh. You hand the weapon back to him, and he takes it once he’s done getting in a few silent chuckles at your joke, gently placing it back down on the table.

No one escapes Art with their soul still in their body. Literal or figurative. You were either dead, or you were burdened with his encounter your entire life, both physically and mentally.

You weren’t any different. Your bruises and bites and scars have been out of love. One could argue that you got off easy, but you’d argue otherwise.

Being in love with the Miles County Clown is torture in and of itself. There were nonstop dreams that came with it. It seemed as if every other week he’d plague you in your sleep. Not to mention that you had to be extremely clever to not be caught under affiliation with him–which was even more stress. So far, though, so good.

He’s worth it, you tell yourself. Even if he wasn’t anymore, there’s no way you could leave. He’d kill you. And you have zero doubts that your death wouldn't be painless.

After a few seconds of silence, you sigh.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave all the time.” You begin to tell him. Art’s expression is neutral, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. His teeth are bared, as they often are. Your tone isn’t one of whining, but of yearning. You know that this came with the territory, and you readily accepted his lack of presence at any given time.

But it didn’t hurt to dream. Art tilts his head, watching you from where he sits curiously.

“Maybe one day we can find some place that… Is ours. Separate from… This.” You gesture towards the weapons he’s making. Every so often he hides somewhere different to prepare for the trouble he intends to cause. “A place that maybe once you’re done for the day, we both can be in to unwind. And a permanent place for you that isn’t just my apartment. But like. A place for you. For us.”

Taking him to your apartment kept getting riskier and riskier each time. Also, he made it quite clear he didn’t really care for your decor. Giving him his own place to make his own that he could express himself would be ideal, and it wouldn’t be like a place he’d have to abandon every year. He could actually have and keep stuff… If he wanted to even do that.

The more you think about it, the more you’re starting to think it sounds silly. You see the way that he’s looking at you, and he appears very stern. Sharp.

Your confidence begins to drop, and as you’re about to speak again, you stammer, before laughing nervously.

“Yeah. You’re right. Sorry, that was a silly idea–any long term space we made for you would probably get found out eventually, too. I–”

The stool screams as it’s slid across the ground, back towards the bench when he stands up. It sounded like one of his many victims. You go quiet as he’s hovering over you, and you swallow any words that you might have wanted to tell him.

The silence is heavy. His shoulders are rising and falling, and you feel your heartbeat in your ears.

Seconds tick by and they feel more like minutes, and you can’t stand it any longer. You open your mouth to speak, but you’re swiftly cut off.

Art yanks you by the collar of your dress, and forces his lips against yours.

Your eyes are wide briefly in surprise, but they close as soon as you register what’s happening, and you moan in the kiss. Art’s a bit of a sloppy kisser, but you’ve come to love it. His taste was acrid as well, but you craved the bitterness at this point, no longer gagging like you used to. As he leans forward to kiss you harder, you put more of yourself in it as well, mixing his intensity with your passion and desire that’s been left simmering for months.

Now it’s boiling over.

Art places both of his hands on either side of your face, and it’s like he’s trying to suffocate you with his kisses, barely giving you much time to breathe in between them. You’re getting a little lightheaded.

He pulls away from your lips to kiss you a few times on the cheek, then nuzzling his face against yours. Almost like a cat.

It gives you the chance to catch your breath. His hands reach for yours, and you let him, feeling the way that his fingers interlace with your own. You look down at the way that your fingers intertwined with his dirtied and calloused ones. He was a man who worked with his hands–in more ways than one. Those same fingers belonged to the same hands that would worship you, tear and pull at you without ever breaking you completely in half. Sometimes it’d be close, but never fully. They would sometimes draw blood when the nails would sink into your flesh and leave behind crescent marks. Other times, those hands would strangle you, smack you–slap you, and bring a sting across your body that reminded you just how alive you were. Then those same hands would caress you. Cradle you.

He’d cut you on a few occasions, but they were never lethal. And with every cut, his tongue followed.

You feel reverence. Especially as you press a kiss to the tip of his fingers–you kiss each one, tenderly, making eye contact with him as you do so.

Art watches knowingly. He raises his head a little so that when he watches you, he’s looking down at you, all too aware of how you worship him. And he accepts it. But only from you. Just you. No one else.

After kissing each finger, from pinkie to thumb, you stop back at his index, soft lips pressed against the pad of it. His fingers were stained. Caked in whatever gore and dirt and grime he’d touched earlier.

Not that you cared, nor would you let it stop you. You’re a freak. Not well in the head. You’d lick any and all of his love off of the world's sharpest blade if that’s the only way he gave it. If he wanted you to cut your tongue on it, you would.

Bringing his index finger to your mouth, you wrap your lips around it, and watch him. He tastes exactly how you’d expect—foul and wretched. You catch the faintest hint of iron. A taste that you’ve come to associate pleasantly with him. That part feels right.

Art’s gaze is fixed on you. You can’t read his thoughts, and though he doesn’t speak, you recognize what that look means. Even as he observes you, teeth bared subtly, head still held high, which he inclines just slightly as you take another finger in your mouth–his middle one.

You suck his fingers lewdly, and close your eyes. You imagine it’s his cock, even though you know that his fingers can’t compare to the real deal. You push your tongue through his index and middle as you take more of him in your mouth. Art watches your tongue work around him, until he decides to press down on the muscle, effectively stopping you.

You stare at him.

Seconds linger in silence, and he relinquishes pressure off of your tongue, letting you move it freely again.

And you do. You hold his hand and go back to kissing his fingers before fellating them. Index first. Then the middle. And finally the ring finger–all three at once. The taste of iron is stronger. You sigh a gentle moan as you pull your head back and give him back his hand. You kiss at the tips of his fingers again. As you’re about to take his fingers a third time, he leans forward instead, his lips taking yours. You feel the way that he seizes both of your wrists as he floods your senses all over again, and you let him.

You try to say his name in between the kisses, but each time you get a breath between the barrage of affection that seems to practically swallow you whole, Art steals your voice with another passionate kiss. Again, his taste is bitter, his teeth are damn near rotten, but you’ve gotten so accustomed to the flavor that it doesn’t make you gag. It makes you feel only slightly sickly. But the arousal overrides any lingering discomfort.

It’s disorienting. It’s all so much at once. You feel your body temperature rise. Art gives you back one of your wrists, but in doing so, he places his hand at the small of your back and pulls you in against him, until there’s no space left between you.

That’s when you feel it. You feel the heat of his erection pressed against your thighs. You’ve excited him enough, it being quite clear the effect your mouth had on him.

You smile, but his lips are back at yours again, and the taste of bitterness hits at the back of your tongue—the most sensitive taste receptors lighting up and ripping any smugness you had straight out of you as you close your eyes and sigh softly. His tongue mingles with yours.

He begins to move, forcibly taking you with him as you change where you’re standing, so that he’s no longer the one whose back is facing the workbench–it’s you. You feel the edge of the table bump against your ass. With your positions effectively switched, you don’t mind at all, far too enraptured by the kisses of your clown lover.

This was pure bliss.

He pulls away from your lips, now kissing the corners of your mouth, then going to your jawline, until he’s at your neck, sucking and licking and nibbling, giving you goosebumps. You feel your nipples go hard. You close your eyes and moan softly.

This is the few times of the year that you get this. It was the time that you’d be peppered in kisses, ravaged, and torn asunder in such a way that it would take you almost the remaining however many days, months, or years until you’d see him again to put yourself back together.

“Art…” You laugh a little when his lips tickle a part of your neck. He silences you again with his lips to yours. You feel the way that he nips at your tongue this time and draws a little blood. The endorphins from the pain gives you a pleasant buzz. He bites your bottom lower lip next, taking note of how he’s beginning to use his teeth more and more during this exchange, and you think about how he’s eaten the faces of his victims before.

You could be next.

He pulls away and kisses at the corners of your lips a second time. He’s obsessed with using his mouth. Your eyes finally open, and you gently move your head back a bit, until Art finally stops, the both of you staring into each other's eyes. His teeth are bared all the same as they were before, but there’s a sultry gaze you’re familiar with. Up this close, you can see the more subtle details of him.

Like his lashes, which otherwise, from a distance is obscured by the paint over his face.

How could someone–or… Something, be so monstrous… Yet so… pretty? You could get lost in his gaze. You could drown in it. And he knows that. And he likes that power over you.

Your lips turn upwards into a soft smile, and you feel a desire pool at your groin. It’s an undeniable throbbing in tune with your heartbeat. Nevermind that you can feel his own arousal against you. He’s warmer than you–he feels like he’s practically burning up, compared to you, and the body heat radiating from him only serves to make you hotter in turn. Right to the point where you’re developing a thin sheen of sweat across your brow.

“I love you.”

He watches you, and through his body language and eyes, you understand him through his reaction. You see a slow, smug smile appear on his face.

Very much an, I know. No sign of reciprocation. That would be too heavy of an ask from someone like him. But him being receptive to your love was a testament to how much he liked you.

Not that you expected anything less from a cold killer such as the Miles County Clown. The fact that he hasn’t yet killed you throughout all these years speaks in a kind of love on its own, you’d think.

Maybe not the one that people would refer to as being actually in love, but for him, for Art, it was. Love was tolerance. Love was allowing you to live.

You feel a hand slip up your dress again, and this time, you don’t stop him. You part your legs for him this time, willingly letting him indulge in what you denied him earlier. Through your panties you feel his thick fingers, his index and middle pressing against your clit, sliding down between your cunt and back up again. He threatens to penetrate you with the tips of his fingers through your panties with a gentle prod, but doesn’t follow through on it.

You ache, feeling more empty than ever.

He’s doing this on purpose. All because you told him to wait earlier.

“Art,” You say his name with a weak laugh, and he stops to look at you, knowingly, at that, well aware of what it is he’s doing. His little way of being petty with you, and he continues once more, trailing his fingers up and down between your thighs, waiting for you to continue.

“It’s been months,” You plead for him. His face is still inches from yours, and you lean more of yourself against him, as your voice gets low. He observes you through half lidded eyes, analyzing you, assessing you and sizing you up. He’s no longer smiling, and his lips are downturned ever so slightly. The expression looks more neutral now.

“I wanna have some fun.” You purse your lips. “Put your weapon crafting down for a bit?”

Your tone is pleading. It’s a mix of a command and a request–you’re voicing your thoughts. You try to get a reading on his response through his eyes, but he’s put up a wall that you can’t breach. He’s unreadable. It’s been months upon months since you’ve both done anything together.

“…Please?”

Art’s gaze is still indecipherable. It makes you a little nervous. The hairs on the back of your neck begin to stand up. Did he change his mind suddenly?

Had it been anyone else, you know they’d be dead instantly. There was no wondering about that. Not a speculation or doubt in your mind. You hated when he did this, when he was fucking with you like this, leaving you in silence. It’s in times like these that you’re reminded that you’re with a wild animal, and he could snap at any second if he decided he was hungry. It was part of the risk you took and the bargain you struck.

Maybe he’d just stab you here and now. Slit your throat and call it a fucking day because he decided that, nope, don’t wanna keep doing this anymore! He could. Again, he’s pushed you away before. Other days he’s yanked you in against him. His mood was unpredictable, hard to guess, and as volatile as a storm across an ocean.

Without another word, you’re turned around, and the flat of Art’s palm travels down your spine as he presses the front of your body forward and down onto the workbench. He gives you time to adjust, so that you’re at least able to rest your forearms on the table top. As of right now, your tits are squished against the surface of the table. It’s a little uncomfortable.

This is surprisingly tender, all things considered. You remember one time when he’d been fucking you on his workbench, how he tied your hands together with some zipties and then choked you out by wrapping some rusty metal chains around your neck. And that was only after he’d finished whipping your breasts, thighs and ass until you were a bloody bruised mess barely hanging on. You still have some scars from those times. He loved to twirl you over the line of death like it was all one dance, pulling you back at the last second.

You go from feeling his palm to the fingertips travel down your back. If it weren’t for the fabric of your dress in the way, you know those blood and dirt stained fingertips would have tickled you by now. And he’s done that in the past while fucking you–tickling you mercilessly. He even makes a point to wiggles his fingers a little against your back on the way down playfully. You can’t help but laugh a little as you exhale, letting some of the excitement stirring within you leave your body through your lungs. Your breaths are getting deeper, and in times like this, when he thrills you in such a way, you’re reminded just how much he makes you feel…

Alive.

Because when you’re with him, death is always hot on your heels. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Don’t be gentle,” You tell him. He knows. You know he knows.

You hear the metallic zipper from the front of his suit go down as the teeth on the track separate and reveal the body of a man beneath that clown visage. You steal a glance over your shoulder to admire his pale skin that covered over such a thin frame. Amazing how a build such as his carries such supernatural strength.

Unceremoniously, he gets right to work, giving your ass a firm slap after lifting the back of your dress, letting it crumple up over your hips. You yelp gently as you know that there’s likely already a red spot on your rump. Art rubs the spot on your ass he’d slapped, then gives it a gentle squeeze.

You make the decision to look over your shoulder, right on time to experience watching when the killer clown makes the decision that you no longer are in need of your panties. His dirtied fingers slip within the space between the elastic waistband of your undergarment and your skin. He lets it snap against your flesh once–that’s about the extent of use it gets before he grabs whatever meager fistful he can of that excuse of ‘modesty’ you brought to him and rips it clean off your form.

“Ow!”

You told him to be rough. And he’s planning on taking that quite literally, as he’s taking it for not just the sex, but all of what precedes it apparently. He’s quietly laughing to himself, teeth showing, eyes crinkled.

“Glad you got some entertainment out of it.”

A few more noiseless giggles then he sobers up. Back to the task at hand—fucking your brains out.

He aligns himself right up against your warm dripping cunt, hands gripping your hips so tightly that his filthy fingertips leave stains on your dress. His nails are so sharp you swear that if he tried to sink them in any further, he’d pierce the cloth and right into your flesh. You inhale sharply again, bracing for the moment he sinks in. You feel the tip of his cock press against you and begin to push in, the head barely getting the chance even to get inside you before it slips and glides between the crack of your ass as he misses. Your excitement stutters for a second, but then ramps back up higher than before, impatience and desire washing over you wholly like a wave.

You’ve been grabbing at the edge of the workbench, hands holding tight and then releasing them of their grip every so often to relax your muscles. You don’t say anything.

He’s annoyed at missing you the first push in.

With a look of disgruntlement he instead opts for one hand reaching to push your head down against the table with such a cruel force that makes you worry for a split second that he was trying to crush your skull. It was his way of trying to steady you as he then uses his other hand to line the head of his cock right against your cunt for the second time.

You shiver as you feel him, hands turning to fists that you clench tightly as inch by agonizing inch, he spreads you and fills you out easily. Your body did the heavy work, and has been prepping for him for the last ten minutes. It’s slick, and he can feel the wetness of your cunt hit against his balls when he bottoms out within you. That’s when you sigh in relief.

He almost pulls all the way out, then rams into you roughly, making you exhale sharply as the table shakes upon impact. The few tools laid out shuddered until they stilled. Give or take a few more times of this, and he finally releases his hand on your head, but you still opt to keep your head down.

The rhythm he has is a little awkward at first, but he is quick to course correct, both hands firmly planted on your hips, keeping you steady. You can’t see his face right now, but you’ve seen it plenty of times when you’ve fucked before. How his mouth would go into that ‘o’ shape, and the way his eyes would go half mast, holding nothing but a glimpse of paradise behind him as you could see that he was as close to heaven as his wicked self could get. You were beautiful to him, as far as sacks of flesh and blood went. And you could tell the times that he looked at you in such a predatory manner that there was restraint behind it.

You feel the pressure build up within you at a steady rate as he leans over you, chest pressed against your back, sucking on your neck, marking you. Then he nips. Then kisses, then sucks so goddamn hard on the same spot that you swear that he’s trying to suction your flesh right off your body.

It doesn’t take long for you to be so close. He’s so warm. The sound of his body slapping against yours, mixed with the creak of the workbench that’s forced to undergo the assault of you being rammed into it, a few quiet moans slip past your lips to join along.

You’re unbearably close, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, just a little more and—

Your phone goes off.

You forgot to silence it.

You feel it vibrating in the pocket of your dress. The ringtone scares the shit out of you and Art, who abruptly jumps a little while still on top of you.

“Of course.” You say sarcastically. “Of course! Who the fuck is calling me?!” You’re irritated now, mood under threat of being ruined. The excitement you felt shrivels up.

Reaching inside your hiked up dress pocket, you pull out your phone and check to see who had the audacity to try and get a hold of you in your time of undoing.

Your friend. Sort of. He was like a close acquaintance? If you could call him that. You met him when you were out and about one night. He’s an okay dude, hasn’t done anything wrong.

If only he didn’t harbor a romantic interest in you when you were already spoken for. But how could you begin to tell someone that you’re involved with a psychopathic killer clown? Specifically the Miles County Clown?

You’re ready to send him right to voicemail, until the phone is seized right out of your hand from over your shoulder.

“Hey!”

Your protest is in vain, as Art too, looks at who is calling you right now. You had HOPED he’d take a look at it, have his curiosity sated, maybe turn the phone off or better yet, you’d even forgive him if he tossed it over his shoulder, just this once!

But the look he’s giving you, then the phone, makes your heart sink as you realize.

“Art, don’t do it—“

His expression turns wicked, mouth upturned into the most shiteating grin you’ve ever seen.

“Art, I swear to god—“

But god’s not here, nowhere to be found in this workshop. God’s forsaken you. Doing the devils tango with a demon can do that.

Giggling silently to himself, in an act of deliberate defiance against you as well as likely for his very own amusement, he accepts the phone call for you and places it right to your ear.

What a gentleman. Truly.

You’re going to fucking kill him. You try to take the phone away from him, but he merely pulls it back out of your reach.

“Hello?”

You can hear the voice on the other end of the line. Art brings it down to your ear again and you try to make a reach for it a second time, only for him to do the exact same thing as before, silently cackling all the while. It’s become apparent that he’s not going to let you have it.

“Hellooooo?”

With a resigned sigh, you don’t fight him any further. Art puts the phone to your ear for the third time.

“Hey.” You answer wearily.

“Hey!” His voice on the other end of the line is suddenly lighter, filled with levity. You can hear the way that his breath is hitched in the back of his throat. Static tinges at the edges of his words.  Must be a shoddy connection down here.

“How are you?”

“I’m–” You start to answer, but are interrupted by Art going back to rocking his hips into you while still over you. Once again, you look over your shoulder to give him the stink eye.

“I’m good, just uh, you know. Hanging out.” You respond, exhaling deeply as Art stirs the fire within you again after it had just begun to cool down.

“Nice, me too.” He says, and lets the silence between you both sink in for a few seconds. “You doing anything tomorrow?”

This would all be so much easier if you weren’t getting dicked down.

“I… I’m uh–”

He’s pounding into you from behind now, still leaning over you, holding the phone for you in one hand and keeping the other on the workbench for stability. Each fluid roll of his hips is equally tantalizing as the previous, his body connecting with yours in such a familiar way you craved. The table shakes, and you’re gripping the edges of it for dear life. You can hear his heavy breath from behind you, excitement building in each time he fills and empties his lungs.

“Art–” You say his name through grit teeth like a warning, with annoyance in your tone, but the excitement you feel, the rush and the thrill of it all has you coming close to release. Why does this feel so good? This man, this sweet man, who has done nothing wrong to you, interested in you, blissfully unaware that your heart belongs to someone else, being fooled like this. It’s wrong. This is wrong. Art knew about this man. He knew about him for some time. Art made it clear that he hated him. The only reason he’s still breathing is because you asked Art not to put this man’s head on a pike, but you fear it’s only a matter of time until your clown lover eviscerates this trespasser for encroaching on what he perceives as his territory–you.

“Art?" He repeats.

This is all an act of revenge done on the Art’s part. His pettiness knew no bounds.

“Yeah, art. You know–Mhn–” Your nails dig into the edge of the workbench as if that’ll somehow make a difference in the fact that he’s pounding into your cunt with such an aggressive force that begins to make you ache.

“You know, p-painting? Drawing. That sort of thing.”

You can only pray the ungodly sinful noises of his skin slapping against yours can’t be heard over the line.

“Ohhh… Well, hey, you wanna hangout sometime soon? It’s been a bit. Wanted to catch up with you if that’s fine.”

You’re not paying attention to a damn thing this dude is saying. It’s just words, in one ear, straight out the other.

“Uhuh.” You say without thinking. You’re close. You’re unbearably close as Art angles himself in such a way that hits just right. He knows how you work all too well. He knows how to unwind you and how to pull you apart piece by piece like it’s second nature to him.

Art’s pushing you towards the cliff, and there’s no stopping it. Your vision starts to blur a little. Your breathing deepens, and Art knows what’s about to come next, which only seems to spur him on as well, exciting him to the point where now he’s going fast not just for you, but for himself, chasing his own orgasm hot on its heels.

“How’s about next Thursday, at 7pm? There’s a new restaurant across the street from where we both met—“

The phone becomes nothing short of white noise. This shouldn’t feel so right, it shouldn’t. But it does. Gods above, it does.

You feel yourself lose sense of the world around you. There’s nothing but ringing in your ears, and you realize how little time you have to prepare before it’s too late.

Your orgasm crashes into you and is ripped out of you all within seconds. You try to keep quiet, your voice strangled and choked out in the process. Your release is violent as it tears you between what feels like the state of life and death. Your cunt tightens around his cock, squeezing him in contractions that trigger him in turn. Art hisses like a serpent, feeling his muscles lock up and knowing that he only has a few seconds to bury himself to the hilt within you, and he does. His face twists into an ugly and horrid expression as he comes inside you, dropping the phone on the workbench in the process while filling you with all the pent up energy he had been keeping away from you for months.

All of what he’d been denying you was now yours.

“Hello?”

You’re finally coming back into your own body a few meager seconds later when you register the voice, and hurriedly grab the phone before Art gets the chance.

“Can I call you back?” You ask, holding the phone to your mouth, but you weren’t really asking. Your friend had no real say in it, and before he even gets the chance to respond, you hang up. And then you lower your head and sigh. All the while, Art has since recovered, but his legs are shaky. You shove him off of you, and he stumbles back with an uneven balance, post orgasm weakened. Goofily he fumbles past the stool from earlier, which he tries to grab but fails in doing so. Instead, he lands right on his ass.

You’re sure to follow that up by throwing your phone at his head, which it does, but it lands with a clack right beside him. The only reason you felt remotely confident in doing that is because you’re both that close. Well, that and irritation made you a bold motherfucker sometimes. Yet despite all of that, he sits there, a wickedly amused smile on his face.

You pull your dress back down. Your legs tingle and you swear you feel some of his come dripping down your thigh, but you’re not sure.

“Proud of yourself, huh?” You ask, leaning against the bench for balance until you get your footing.

Yes. Yes he was proud of himself!

The rest of the night was spent at Art’s temporary hideaway space, lamenting the loss of your panties and calling back your guy friend who had unknowingly been part of something much more than he knew. And you’d never tell him. Not that you would ever have the chance to tell him really anything at all anymore in the future.

You had no idea at the time that Art would meet your friend the day you were both set to reconvene. But you should have known better, and a part of you already did. The reason you know he was dead was because he ended up on the local news the next day missing.

That, and Art had saved the man’s heart specifically for you when you came to visit him again.

[ama0310]

Bubblegum Bitch

Character: Aaron Hotchner

Requested: No

Type: Song Fic, Angst/Fluff

Summary: Hotch never thought he'd fall in love again—until he met Y/N.

Author's Note: Based on Bubblegum Bitch by MARINA

***************************

Meeting the Unit Chief should have been terrifying, but for you, it was exhilarating. Strauss had recently transferred you to the BAU from the Counter-Terrorism Division.

You suspected she added you to the team to ruffle the Unit Chief's feathers. It might have bothered you if it hadn’t come with a nice bump in your paycheck.

The moment Hotch saw you, he knew you were trouble. He just didn't realize how much trouble until your very first case.

Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll Don't care if you think I'm dumb, I don't care at all

You stood before the mirror in a dingy motel bathroom, applying the finishing touches to your makeup. The skin-tight leather mini dress hugged every curve, transforming you into the perfect bait for the unsub who had been terrorizing local nightclubs.

Hotch's reflection appeared behind you, his face etched with worry. "Y/L/N, I really don't think you're ready for this."

You turned, cocking an eyebrow as you placed your hands on your hips. "And why is that, sir?"

Hotch's response was immediate and brutally honest. "You're still new, never been face-to-face with an unsub, let alone undercover. You're reckless, difficult to control, and frankly, a loose cannon. Need I go on?"

I'll chew you up and I'll spit you out

A smirk played at your lips as you sauntered towards him, invading his personal space. The scent of your perfume mingled with the tension in the air. "Look, Hotchie," you purred, noting how he stiffened at the nickname, "I was transferred here for a reason. I know what this job entails. So be my boss and let me do it."

You could see the internal struggle playing out behind Hotch's eyes. His professional concern warred with something else – an attraction he was clearly trying to suppress. You were a walking danger sign, and part of him was drawn to that fire.

"First," he said, his voice low and controlled, "don't call me that. Second, I'm not trying to offend you. I simply think Emily might be better suited for this operation. You can take points next time."

You scoffed, taking a step back. "Next time? With all due respect, sir, I fit the victimology perfectly, and you know it. I've spent the last hour transforming myself into exactly what this creep is looking for. If I don't do this, he'll likely claim another victim before we can catch him. So again, Hotchie," you emphasized the nickname, watching him bristle, "let me do my job. Don't make me have to disobey orders."

Without waiting for a response, you slipped on your stilettos and brushed past him, the warmth of your body tantalizingly close for a moment before you were gone.

Hotch watched you go, a mix of admiration and trepidation swirling in his gut. You were brilliant, fearless, and undeniably effective. But you were also unpredictable, pushing boundaries at every turn. As he followed you out, preparing to oversee the operation, one thought echoed in his mind:

Definitely trouble.

Candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored I'm the girl you'd die for

Over the past few months, you had become the team's radiant beacon of positivity, your presence a cure for the often-dark nature of their work. Even the usually stoic Hotch, though he'd never admit it aloud, had fallen under your spell.

It was impossible not to be drawn to your infectious energy. Each morning, you breezed into the bullpen, a whirlwind of warmth and enthusiasm. Your greetings were accompanied by compliments, tailored to brighten each team member's day. After particularly grueling cases, the aroma of your famous blueberry muffins would fill the office, a comforting reminder that there was still sweetness in the world. You even patiently endured Spencer's lengthy tangents, sparing the others from information overload.

As the team prepared to head out for a new case, you sprinted across the parking lot, your laughter echoing off the concrete walls. "Shotgun!" you called out triumphantly, playfully shoving past Spencer to claim the coveted front seat next to Hotch.

Your friendship with the young doctor had blossomed quickly, bonded by your shared status as the "kids" of the team. While the others sometimes found his endless stream of facts overwhelming, you delighted in his knowledge, often engaging him in spirited debates that left the rest of the team both amused and bewildered.

The unit chief's lips twitched, fighting back a smile as he watched your antics. Spencer, mock indignation coloring his voice, appealed to their leader. "Hotch, come on! She rode shotgun last time. It's my turn, isn't it?"

Hotch cleared his throat, his tone stern but his eyes betraying a hint of amusement. "Y/N, you know the rules. It is indeed Reid's turn to sit up front."

You turned to face Hotch, unleashing the full power of your most irresistible puppy dog eyes. Your lower lip jutted out ever so slightly as you pleaded silently. Behind you, Spencer let out a resigned sigh, already knowing he'd lost this battle. Your ability to wrap Hotch around your finger was legendary among the team, even if the man himself was loath to acknowledge it.

Hotch held your gaze for a moment, visibly wavering. With a barely perceptible shake of his head, he started the engine, tacitly allowing you to keep your place.

Victorious, you twisted in your seat to face Spencer, sticking out your tongue in a childish display of triumph.

"Y/N!" Hotch's voice held a note of warning, though it lacked any real heat.

You straightened immediately, your voice dripping with faux innocence. "Sorry, sir!"

The apology was hollow, and you both knew it. As Hotch pulled out of the parking lot, you caught the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Your sunny persona had once again melted the ice around the unit chief's heart.

Oh, dear diary, I met a boy He made my doll heart light up with joy

The realization hit you like a thunderbolt – you were hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Aaron Hotchner. For the first time in your life, you felt a fear that chilled you to your core.

How could someone like him ever reciprocate such feelings? The cons seemed endless: a decade age gap, your extroverted nature clashing with his stoicism, your wild spirit at odds with his controlled demeanor. Not to mention the professional boundary – you were his employee, AND  he was still navigating the aftermath of his recent divorce.

Your newfound awareness of your feelings for Hotch led to a desperate attempt at avoidance. It was hard, given how intertwined your lives had become over the months. For a week, you'd been dodging his texts, offering only cursory greetings, and maintaining a physical distance that felt painfully unnatural.

Hotch noticed the change immediately, and it gnawed at him. Your vibrant presence had become a constant in his life, a source of warmth he hadn't realized he'd come to depend on until it was suddenly gone.

He found himself missing the little rituals that had naturally developed between you. The morning car rides, once a practical solution to your car troubles, had evolved into a cherished start to each day. Your habit of bringing him a piece of candy during lunch breaks, with the excuse of "sweetening up his day," never failed to bring a smile to his face. Most of all, he missed the casual physical contact – the way you'd unconsciously place your hand on his arm when standing close, a gesture that grounded him more than he cared to admit.

As the week progressed, Hotch's concern deepened. Had he unknowingly offended you? He wracked his brain, trying to pinpoint any misstep. Perhaps the latest case had affected you more than usual, or maybe you were simply exhausted. Whatever the reason, he was determined to lift your spirits.

During his lunch break, Hotch made his way to your favorite café. The aroma of freshly baked goods enveloped him as he ordered your usual – a ham and cheese croissant and your preferred coffee blend. Back at the office, he noticed your empty desk and quickly left the bag before retreating to his office.

When you returned from the restroom, steeling yourself for an afternoon of paperwork, the sight of the familiar bag on your desk stopped you in your tracks. With trembling hands, you opened it to find the still-warm croissant and perfectly prepared coffee. Atop the container, a piece of candy was taped to a note that read: "To sweeten your day up! – Hotch"

Your heart swelled, a mix of joy and ache flooding your chest. Looking up, you caught Hotch watching you from his office window. Despite your best efforts to maintain distance, you couldn't help but offer him the radiant smile he'd come to cherish.

In that moment, the truth was undeniable. You were completely, utterly, and hopelessly in love with Aaron Hotchner. As your eyes locked with his, a flicker of something – hope, perhaps? – passed between you, hinting that maybe, just maybe, these obstacles weren't quite so impossible after all.

Oh, dear diary, we fell apart Welcome to the life of Electra Heart

Aaron Hotchner never imagined falling in love after Haley left. His life revolved around his job and Jack. He didn't need anyone else. That is, until you entered his life.

You were the first to sense something was wrong when he didn't answer his phone. Racing to his apartment, you found it covered in blood. With Penelope's help, you tracked him to a hospital, learning he'd been stabbed nine times.

When he opened his eyes and saw you, Hotch thought he'd died and gone to heaven. You looked angelic - an angel he couldn't bear to see harmed.

So when George Foyet shot him in his own home, Hotch realized he needed to end whatever was blossoming between you before you got hurt.

But you made it difficult.

The moment he was released, you were there every day, before and after work. Groceries, cleaning, anything to ease his burden. You knew how hard it was for him to send Haley and Jack away, how alone he must feel. You were determined to show him the team - and you - were there for him. For anything.

Driving him home after the Darrin Call case, where he'd recklessly entered a house without backup, your anger finally boiled over.

"What the hell were you thinking, Aaron?" you demanded, following him into his apartment. "No gun, no vest, no backup. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Hotch turned, his face a mask of stone. "I knew the profile. I had it under control."

"Under control?" you scoffed. "If it were anyone else, you'd have suspended them! This isn't you, Aaron. What's going on?"

His eyes flashed. "What's going on is I'm the Unit Chief, and I don't answer to you. I think before I act, unlike some people."

The barb stung. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he said coldly. "Just find it ironic you're lecturing me on recklessness."

"I've never walked into a hostage situation alone and unarmed!" you countered.

"I don't have to explain myself," Hotch snapped. "Especially not to you. Get out."

Your eyes widened. "No. We're talking about this. You're spiraling, Aaron. This obsession with Foyet-"

"Stop. You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know you're not alone in this!" you pleaded. "The team needs you. I need you."

Hotch laughed bitterly. "If you haven't noticed, I am alone. My son is gone. I have no one. And I won't rest until Foyet is dead."

Tears welled in your eyes. "You have us. You have me. We can figure this out together."

"There is no 'we,'" Hotch said, his voice cold and final. "There never was."

The words hit like a physical blow. "Don't say that. You know that's not true."

For a moment, his mask slipped, revealing the pain beneath. But then it was back, harder than ever. "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

You stared at him, hurt turning to anger. "Go to hell, Hotchner," you spat, before storming out, leaving him alone with the wreckage of what might have been.

I'm Miss Sugar Pink, liquor, liquor lips Hit me with your sweet love, steal me with a kiss

Your relationship with Aaron had crumbled to dust. Since that night you stormed out of his apartment, you'd made it your mission to avoid him at all costs. Difficult, considering he was your boss.

You understood he was facing unimaginable challenges - the loss of his ex-wife, becoming a single parent. Part of you ached to support him, but you both needed space.

That space stretched into a year.

You'd left transfer papers on his desk days ago. Despite your love for the team, staying had become impossible. It wasn't fair to you or Hotch. Counter Terrorism Division beckoned - a fresh start.

You hadn't told the team yet, dreading their reactions. You'd become their wild, sassy, overdramatic little sister. But tonight wasn't about goodbyes. It was Spencer's birthday, and Derek had chosen a club to celebrate. You wouldn't miss it for the world.

Arriving in a hot pink mini dress and matching heels, you spotted the team immediately.

"Happy birthday, Boy Genius!" you exclaimed, hugging Spencer tight.

"Please," he whispered, "get me out of here. Derek's trying to set me up with his friend."

You laughed, ruffling his hair. "No can do, Spence. It's your night. Go crazy. I promise not to film anything too embarrassing."

Turning to greet the others, you froze. Hotch was there. You hugged everyone but him, pointedly avoiding his gaze.

"Damn, girl! You're on fire!" Penelope gushed, clearly tipsy.

Emily nodded appreciatively. "I'm borrowing those heels."

"You know how to make a girl feel special," you winked. "First round's on me!"

An hour later, you were dancing with Penelope and Spencer, the alcohol buzzing through your veins. Suddenly, Spencer spun you – right into Hotch's arms. You glared at Spencer, who mouthed 'Karma' with a smirk.

The tension was strong as you and Hotch swayed silently. You wanted to escape, yet craved his touch.

"You requested a transfer," he stated, his voice low.

You quirked an eyebrow. "Did you sign it?"

"No."

You pulled back, stunned. "What do you mean, no?"

"We need to talk first."

Anger flared. "You're unbelievable," you spat, pushing past him and out of the club. He followed close behind.

"Y/N, please-"

You whirled to face him. "There's nothing to say. It's been a year, Hotch. Whatever we had is dead."

"You don't mean that," he insisted, his eyes burning into yours.

The alcohol amplified your emotions. "I do. I'm over it. Over you. There's nothing left to talk about."

"Then I'll talk, and you listen," he said firmly, gripping your shoulders. "There was a 'we'. Everything I said that night – it was a lie. To keep you safe from Foyet. He was targeting everyone I loved. I couldn't risk losing you."

Your heart stuttered. "You... loved me?"

"I still do," he breathed, cupping your face. "This past year has been hell. Not having you by my side – our carpool chats, sneaking candy, just... you. It was torture. I'll do anything to earn your forgiveness."

You wanted to resist, to make him suffer longer. But the alcohol, the longing, the raw emotion in his voice – it was too much. You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.

You both exhaled, tension melting away. It felt right. It felt like coming home.

"I love you too," you murmured, then pulled back with a stern look. "But you've got a lot of making up to do."

He pressed his forehead to yours. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to. You deserve the world, Y/N, and I intend to give it to you."

Your lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, full of promise and the weight of a year apart.

As you parted, you whispered, "This doesn't mean I'm not still furious with you."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

I'm Miss Sugar Pink, liquor, liquor lips I'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch

Again, you were trouble. Even after two years together, you definitely kept him on his toes. Not transferring and working alongside your boyfriend made for an interesting way to live.

“What you did was stupid and reckless, Y/N.” Aaron's voice was stern as the team boarded the jet to head back home. The case had been a success, but it came at the cost of you getting into the unsub’s car without any weapons. Fortunately, you had your team.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at him. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Y/N. I’m serious.”

“Ooooo, Mom and Dad are fighting,” Spencer teased from across the jet.

“Shut up, Spencer,” you snapped, making him raise his hands in mock surrender. Then, you turned to Hotch. “You know damn well I needed to get into his car. If I didn’t and you caught him, he would’ve acted like he was just trying to get with me.”

Aaron rubbed the side of his head. Migraines. You gave him migraines. “The plan was for you to walk down the street, and the moment you were alone with him, we would get him. You went rogue.”

You rolled your eyes again. “Well, technically we were alone, and you did get him.”

He was about to argue again, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him your infamous puppy dog face. “Aaron, I’m okay. You know I did what I had to do to catch him. I’m sorry I worried you, but I’m not sorry for helping bring him in.”

He sighed, knowing you were right, and he could never stay mad at you. “I hated every second of it. My heart stopped the moment you got into that damn car.”

You smiled and pecked him on the lips. “Hey, you always said I was going to give you a heart attack.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes before he kissed you. “You have, and you most definitely will again.”

“Hey, that’s what you love about me.”

“That is true.”

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser — Liebevoll

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1k TYPE: Humor, Established relationship, some fluff WARNING(S): Kaiser is a cringe loser, my bad german makes a comeback (I was always on that damn phone in german class)

Since you’ve been trying to learn German (you gave some stupid excuse about how you ‘want to know what shit he talks about you when he thinks you don’t understand him’), a golden opportunity to mess with you has appeared in front of Kaiser.

Obviously being that your brainwaves aren’t completely inactive, you knew not to ask him and instead try a language app first because he’s not to be trusted.

Not possible on Kaiser’s watch, though. Nuh uh. What do you need an app for when you have a boyfriend who’s perfectly capable of lying to you for his amusement?

Your phone was dealt with (snatched and tucked in Kaiser’s back pocket, where you’d rather wretch than reach) three exercises in… So you’re still about as clueless as in the beginning. Now, Kaiser is subjecting you to his ‘tutoring’.

“When someone holds the door for you, you bow and say ‘Ich hoffe, du wirst von einem Auto angefahren.’ It means thank you, by the way.”

“Uh, that’s too long to mean thank you.” You look at him like he’s forcing you to say tongue twisters, suspicion clear in your expression.

Kaiser finds your wariness and lack of understanding really cute, mainly because he’s a condescending asshole. He reaches out to try and move your mouth as if that’ll somehow assist you in pronouncing it, but you pry his fingers away from your face before he can reach. It makes him snicker.

After a few tries, you get through that one. Then Kaiser forces you through the ordeal of sounding out that string of bullshit multiple times ‘just to make sure you really memorized it’.

Next, Kaiser says, “When you want the tab at a restaurant, you should say, ‘Kannst du auf meinen Teller scheißen?’”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. Why do you think you know more than me? It’s my first language.” He smiles at you in a wannabe suave manner.

Reluctantly, you repeat it back to him, more than once.

His gaslighting is almost becoming convincing with his insistence on you retaining this information as if you’re actually gaining knowledge here.

But you decide to take everything with a grain of salt, anyway, no matter how compelling Kaiser’s acting may be. You’ll try to search these up later. At least if you can manage to spell them based on what you heard.

The nonsense continues on like this:

“When a guy compliments you, you should reply with ‘Sag das noch einmal, damit ich dich ausweiden kann.’ It means thank you veeeeeeery much, by the way.”

“Does everything mean thank you according to you?!”

“Aww, that’s a really cute grumpy face you’re making.”

“Don’t dodge the question.”

Kaiser stares at you expectantly, scooting closer towards you and leaning in, his face inching closer towards yours. Disturbed (not swayed or affected at all, might you add!), you decide to comply.

He wonders what other stupid shit he should make you say. Even for a joyless and miserable person like Kaiser, it’s kinda difficult to stifle his laughter. Of course, someone as delusional as him would find entertainment in his own antics, but he’s doing a good job on not letting it show.

“After paying at the supermarket, you tell the cashier ‘Es gibt eine Leiche im Pausenraum’ and walk off immediately. It’s a social norm.”

What a shameless liar. You’re curious about what he’s making you say though, since he’s still not reacting when you repeat it back to him during this whole farce. The mischievous rat’s game is on point.

You continue to go along with it, though, since your intrigue is also making you want to learn them all so you can actually look them up after all this. In fact, you drop asking him about it regardless, pretending as if you let down your guard and believe him now.

This leads Kaiser to being more comfortable, testing the waters in a different direction, assuming you won’t think anything of it.

“You should greet me in German every time you see me as practice,” he says. “With something like ‘Du bist sehr schön.’”

Kaiser thinks he’ll think it funny because you rarely compliment him, but he finds himself liking it a little once you repeat it to him. Then he makes you say it again and again, aiming less to deceive you into thinking he’s dedicated to your linguistic education and more so for his satisfaction.

But Kaiser ignores this strange happiness. He tricked you into saying it, so it’s whatever. Doesn’t mean anything. In fact, he’d be a stupid microbe to dwell on it.

Once he strays down that part, though, it keeps escalating.

“Mit dir ist alles besser." - That’s probably the opposite of how you feel, so Kaiser finds some kind of humor in it conceptually. Then hearing is too much to his liking again.

“In deinen Armen fühle ich mich geborgen." - You’d never think something like that, god forbid you utter it out loud… What’s wrong with him? It’s supposed to be comedic. He’s pranking you! Punking you. You’re a gullible idiot!!! He like, got you so good or whatever.

"Du machst mich glücklich.”

When you parrot that one back to him with more ease, since it’s more on the simple side, Kaiser stares into your eyes with a kind of seriousness you find disconcerting. You expect him to demand you say it again so he can be sure you remember it, though the frequency of this request died down more and more with each phrase you spoke.

The silence stretches. You continue to gaze at each other with an almost bizarre confusion between you two.

Is he making you say things he yearns to hear deep down? Or is he finding an excuse to tell you things he’s reluctant to admit? Both options are pathetic and beneath him. And he also really can’t tell which one it is, either.

“Can you say it again?” asks Kaiser, more tender in tone.

“Du machst mich glücklich?”

You’re not a very affectionate couple. It’s to your surprise that Kaiser wraps his arms around you with tentativeness, like he’s skirting around something, then presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. Despite your puzzlement, you return the embrace, pulling him closer.

Now you’ve got to find out what it was to warrant all that from him for sure. Guess you’ll be utilizing speech to text later…

Ich hoffe, du wirst von einem Auto angefahren = I hope you get ran over by a car Kannst du auf meinen Teller scheißen? = Can you take a shit on my plate? Sag das noch einmal, damit ich dich ausweiden kann = Say that again so I can disembowel you Es gibt eine Leiche im Pausenraum = There’s a dead body in the break room Du bist sehr schön = You’re very beautiful Mit dir ist alles besser = Everything’s better with you In deinen Armen fühle ich mich geborgen = I feel safe in your arms Du machst mich glücklich = You make me happy I was writing a WIP with a premise I've never done before, but it got difficult to write whihc annoyed me, so I wrote this which is something that ive quite literally done before instead #StayStagnant

[elllisaaa]

how ateez would confess to you

-> words count : 3.7k words

-> genre : ateez members crushing on you

-> warnings : just a lot of sweetness

-> sorry if I made any spelling or grammar mistakes, english is not my first language

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist

KIM HONGJOONG - JEALOUS

he’s the type to be bold. but like REALLY bold. 

like he’s not embarrassed at all to check you out when you ask him if your outfit looks good and say “it looks more than good, don’t worry.” with that damn smirk screaming in my pillow.

he’s also very protective - always has his hand on the small of your back when you’re walking in a crowded place, and always gives you his jacket or sweater if you’re cold or feeling uncomfortable. 

he has an eye on you wherever you two are going to be sure that you’re safe. 

asks you to send him a message so he is sure that you’re home whenever you go out of work, or hang out late without him, or when he can’t walk you home. 

that being said, it’s also a fact that this man is possessive.

have you seen him whenever an atiny mentions liking another group, or going to other concerts than theirs ?

he would be the same with you.

but since you’re not yet a couple, he tries to hide it as well as he can.

but jealousy would be his breaking point. 

seeing you laugh and joke with some trainee of the agency he didn’t even know the name of really made his blood boil. 

his death stare was burning holes in the back of the head of the poor boy you were talking with. 

he would approach both of you, and as if the trainee wasn’t already intimidated by hongjoong presence, he was looking at him like he killed someone lmao.

the trainee was almost shaking when hongjoong dragged you away from him under a ridiculous excuse. 

“- Joong ! Where are we going ?”

He didn’t answer, jaw clenched and his grip on your wrist almost painful as he brought you to his studio. Hongjoong closed the door behind the two of you, just to have the time to think about the way he was going to explain himself. He always succeeded in controlling himself and mostly his jealousy, but today, he didn’t exactly know why, it was too hard seeing you with someone else, laughing like you should be with only him. 

“- Hongjoong ? What’s gotten into you ?”

He took a deep breath. Maybe it was finally the moment to say the truth. It would take a weight out of his shoulder, and he could have an answer to all his questions. Hongjoong turned towards you, a smirk on his lips.

“- You want me to be honest ?”

You simply nobbed, looking at him expectantly, and even if he acted confident, his heart was beating fast. 

“- I didn’t like seeing you laugh with another guy. Well, I didn’t like it every other time it happened. But I think today was just too much to bear for me. Because I love you. I want you to be mine, only mine. I want to be the one who makes you laugh like that, and I want you to be the one who makes me laugh. What do you say ?”

The blush creeping on your cheeks as you listened to his words, and watched his grin widened was really noticeable. But your smile was even more telling to him.

“- I say yes.”

“from now on and forever, I won’t let you go. you’re mine.”

PARK SEONGHWA - SAFE

he is literally the sweetest person ever. 

the type to text you throughout the day to ask if you have eaten and if your answer is no, expect him to be at your door in 5 minutes, drank or took a break. 

so, so caring and always there whenever you need him.

mention that you had a bad day or are a little down ? expect a movie night, your favorite snacks and a lot of cuddles from hwa. 

speaking of that, he sometimes always acts as if he was your boyfriend. 

not that it’s bothering you, on the contrary, but he still claims to everyone that you two are just best friends. 

and that’s confusing because he’s out there holding your hands, putting his arm on your shoulder, cuddling with you. 

to be honest, seonghwa has been trying to make things ambiguous between the two of you lately, in hopes that you would take the hint that he likes you.

like that one time he pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and you thought that he was about to kiss you.  

so tonight, while he was laying on top of you on your couch, focused on the show playing on the TV, you decided it was time to clarify this situation.

“- Hwa ?”

The man turned his head towards you at the mention of his surname, big doe eyes watching you and waiting for what you wanted to say. You hoped that he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating. 

“- Can I ask you a question ?

- Yeah, of course.”

Seonghwa’s smile almost made your hands shake, and you came back to playing with his hair to try and hide it.

“- What are we ?”

It was as if the whole world had stopped spinning for Seonghwa. Was it finally happening ? Was this your way of asking him to be more than friends ? He silently prayed for it, closing his eyes for a second to gather his thoughts, and also to escape your piercing gaze that was making him even more nervous than he already was. 

“- I’m willing to be whatever you want us to be angel.

- And what do you think of… You being mine, and me being yours ?”

Seonghwa giggled quietly, burying his face in the crook of your neck to hide the red tint on his cheeks. His arms, that circled your waist, tightened their grip, not planning on letting you go anytime soon. 

“that’ll be perfect. that’s what i wanted us to be all along.”

JEONG YUNHO - SLEEPY

100% golden retriever energy, you can’t say otherwise i’ll fight.

i don’t know, he just gives this puppy boyfriend vibes, all fluffy and clingy and sweet, he’s just so cute honestly.  

the type to always want to hang out, because his love language his quality time.

will make it a ritual to eat with you at least 2 times a week, weekend hangouts where you either simply go shopping or sometimes he plans activities, and movie nights too. 

so smiley around you his cheeks hurts when he goes home after spending the day with you. 

he gets especially giggly every time you do something a little silly, like when you trip while trying to show him something.

always makes sure you’re alright afterwards though.

to put it in a nutshell, he’s just very cute.

but he finds you even more cute, particularly when you’re all sleepy. 

because then you snuggle up to him, seeking his warmth, and you often fall asleep on him, unaware of how much you make his heart flutter. 

during your usual movie night, you felt tired and rested on his shoulder.

As Yunho heard your breathing become more regular, he assumed that you were asleep. He was always so glad that you felt safe enough around him to be this vulnerable. And mostly, he got to admire your beautiful face without risking you to catch him. He didn’t know why but tonight, he felt on the verge of telling you. And after all, you were asleep, you couldn’t hear him. He already said it to you a few times like that, what could go wrong ?

“- You’re breathtaking Y/N, really… I love you.”

As Yunho was ready to cover you with a blanket to keep you even more warm, your voice stopped him in his tracks.

“- Can you say it again ? I’m not sure I understood.”

His panicked eyes turned to your fully awake ones, looking at him with a mischievous glint. The poor boy gulped loudly, not knowing if he was going to be in trouble or if you were just messing with him, as you always did. 

“- I-I love you, I really do. I just… It was easier telling you when you couldn’t reject me.”

A shy chuckle escaped him as he averted your gaze, missing the smile eating your whole face at his confession. 

“- Look at me, big baby.”

And when he eventually did, you finally answered his silent interrogation.

“- I love you too, so much.”

Yunho engulfed you in the biggest hug, already taking advantage of your new relationship.

“I can’t wait to spend every day and every night by your side.”

KANG YEOSANG - PERFECT

he’s not very talkative, in the sense that he’s not always making remarks about what you tell him.

but don’t worry, he got it all written in his head. 

it could be the most useless detail about a story that happened to you years ago, and he still will remember it.

because you’re too precious to him to forget anything about you he’s so boyfriend material.

the type to take notice of what you like to eat.

say that you love a certain type of food one time, and you’ll get it every now and then. 

he remembers your coffee order from day one.

also a really good listener and give the best advice. 

that being said, he’s the type to notice if you looked at something with envy in a shop, or said that you wanted this or that.

and bets that he’ll confess with a little gift that he bought for you.

maybe that’ll be a waste of money if you say no, but he doesn’t care, you’re worth it.

so he’ll buy this necklace you’ve been talking about for weeks, and come to you one day, almost out of the blue to offer it to you.

“- You shouldn’t have, really. That’s too much.

- It’s never too much when it comes to you.”

You were blushing like crazy, as much as from his words and how his fingers brushed against your skin as Yeosang attached the necklace for you. His eyes reflected nothing but love and adoration when he looked at you. 

“- You’re beautiful, it suits you perfectly.

- Thank you so much Sangie ! But what is this for ? It’s not my birthday or anything special…”

Yeosang lowered his head for several seconds before mustering the courage to let the words finally spill from his mouth. They were coming out so naturally that it seemed like you were truly made for one another.

“- I wanted to give you this just because you loved it, but also to remind you how much I love you. And I don’t mean it in a friendly way. I like you. And I hope, if you return my feelings, that this necklace is gonna remind you of that everyday.”

Your smile was enough of an answer for him, but you took a step forward, putting your hand on Yeosang’s cheek and making his heart beat faster. 

“- I’ll wear it everyday from now on. I must find something for you to wear and remember how much I love you too.”

“let’s get matching ones then, that’ll make us soulmates.”

CHOI SAN - FORCED

now this boy is the most obvious when it comes to crushes.

like all the members could tell that he was down bad for you since the first day.

but you didn’t seem to notice.

however, it was indeed very clear since he looked at you as if you put all the stars in the sky. 

really, i don’t understand how you didn’t notice.

beside the fact that he’s literally a simp for you, he’s also been your best friend for several years now, and he knows you like the back of his hand except your undying love for him.

he had always been by your side : when you were sad or happy, when you had your first crush and even when you got drunk for the first time. 

the members having obviously noticed how san was struggling to tell you how he felt, they tried to help him multiple times.

to be honest, this was not really efficient but at least they tried. 

the latest attempt was at this little party they planned at the dorms, and of course you were invited.

at one point, everyone gathered to play truth or dare, and of course, it was a trick to get you two to confess to each other not very slick, yeah.

“- So San, truth or dare ?

- Truth, I have nothing to hide.”

His confident smile made you chuckle, knowing all his embarrassing secrets and also knowing how much he, in fact, had to hide. 

“- Well, then tell us who your crush is.”

The smirk on Yunho’s face made a deep contrast with the defeated one on San face. You felt your own smile flatter as you tried not to look at your best friend. You knew this day would come. Of course San wouldn’t stay with you until your old days. Of course he would find a better partner. You were only his best friend, not his lover. 

“- I… Uh-

- I thought you had nothing to hide, Sannie.”

The group laughed collectively at Wooyoung's remark, except you and San. You were almost ready to stand up and leave when your best friend turned to you.

“- Y/N… I really love you.”

Your eyes widened as San ran away immediately. Around you, the members were all whistling and making weird noises. But you didn’t hear them. You only heard San’s words again and again. Quickly after, you followed him to the kitchen. He had to know how much you loved him too. When you found him, he had his head pressed on the fridge, eyes closed and probably overthinking everything he had ever said and done.

“- San…”

He turned to you quickly, worry filling up his gaze.

“- Listen Y/N, I’m really sorry ! I shouldn't have said that in front of everyone, I should’ve kept it for a moment just between us, or never tell you at all in fact. I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable and I’m- 

- San, stop.”

You took a step toward him, your smile eating your face. 

“- We’ve known each other for years, you’ll never make me uncomfortable. Stop thinking too much, okay ? ‘Cause I love you too, since I don’t even remember when because you’re the most important person in my life.”

No answer came except his lips on yours, and his hand on your waist, pulling you against his body.

“i’ve always known that one day we’ll be together, and that one day i’ll marry you. but let’s keep that for later.”

SONG MINGI - DRUNK

the boy is a stuttering and nervous mess around you.

blushing everytime you smile at him, but denying it if you ever mention it before blushing even more, he’s so cute.

besides the fact he’s so impressed by your charisma and presence, he’s very funny around you.

the type to make the dumbest jokes and put himself in ridiculous situations if that makes you laugh.

because your smile and laugh are the most beautiful things he had ever seen and heard.

it’s so funny to see a big guy like him being so amazed by just one person, you find that really endearing. 

but that also means that he’s not brave at all. 

like, if he ever tried to just muster up the courage to tell you that he has the biggest crush on you, he would chicken out as soon as he saw you.

and I think that to be able to confess, he would have to take a little liquid courage yes, that means getting drunk.

one night, the boys were celebrating the release of their new comeback with some drinks and mingi asked you to come with them.

and of course, he’ll end up drinking too much, hoping that he would either stop thinking about you or finally telling you how he felt. 

“- Y/N !”

Mingi’s scream made you jolt in place and turn around quickly, smiling when you saw him trying to walk straight in your direction, with his rosy cheeks and glossy eyes. He was cute, really cute. But you didn’t expect him to literally throw himself in your arms. You caught him as best as you could, shivering as his breath tickled your neck.

“- Are you alright Mingi ?”

He nodded his head, trying to steady himself and standing straight on his feet again. You looked up at him, preparing yourself to decode his slurred words. 

“- Yeah… Yes, I’m alright but I wanted to say something to you… I really, really like you… I mean, like you, not like a friend, I want you to be my lover… Because I love you.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, and Mingi’s heart skipped a beat. His brain was all mushy just from seeing your gaze focused on him and only him, and alcohol wasn’t helping at all in controlling the blush on his cheeks.

“- I like you too Mingi, and I would like to be your lover too. But we’ll talk about this when you’re sober, okay ?”

________________________________________

“- I really said that ?”

You chuckled lightly, caressing his cheeks softly, diving in his mesmerizing, hypnotizing eyes.

“- Yeah, you did. But to be honest, it was very cute. You’re very cute anyway. So, would you like to be my lover Mingi ?”

The boy in question pecked your lips, smiling too.

“that’s not even a question princess. i’ll be by your side as long as you’ll let me stay.”

JUNG WOOYOUNG - IMPULSIVE

i see him as someone very spontaneous.

if he passes by a restaurant he likes, no matter what hour it is or what he has to do, he’ll stop and eat. 

if he likes someone, he’s gonna tell them. 

that’s what you love about him, and that’s also probably how you met.

he was certainly doing something stupid, as always, and ran into you, making you fall on the floor. 

and boom ! you were best friends forever.

he didn’t stop doing ridiculous things, on the contrary since he noticed that you’re in the same mood as him and that it’s making you laugh, he’ll be doing it even more. 

but the thing is that wooyoung wants way more than being friends since the first day.

but now that he’s got you in his life, he’s a little (very) afraid of losing you. 

so he’s gonna try and hide his feelings as best as he can. 

but when he passed by this flower shop, and saw your favourite ones standing outside, he couldn’t help thinking of you.

and that’s how he ended up at your door, with the flowers, trying to calm himself down.

“- Woo ? What are you doing here ?

- I.. Uh… These are for you !”

He handed you the flowers, feeling a blush creeping on his cheeks as you took them hesitatingly. Wooyoung never felt so nervous in his life. Even before his first concert, even before his first fanmeeting. Even with all the stressful events he had experienced being an idol, he never got so anxious. 

“- Thank you, I guess ? What are these for ? It’s not my birthday, nor anything special I think.”

You chuckled at your own words, leaving Wooyoung asking himself why he did that.

“- Don’t get me wrong ! I like them, they’re beautiful and I’m surprised you even remembered what my favourite flowers were ! But why ? I don’t understand…”

He thought about letting out all the words he kept for himself for weeks, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. So instead, he leaned in to kiss you. It was not even a peck : he kissed you passionately, like it was the last thing he got to do before dying. You let the flowers fall to the floor, dropping them without any regrets when you tug at Wooyoung’s hair, deepening your kiss. And his smile when you backed out for air told you everything you needed to know. 

“i’ll buy you flowers everyday if it means i get to kiss you like this.”

CHOI JONGHO - TEXT

first thing first, this man’s smile could kill you and me, he’s so cute that’s got to be illegal.

the type to value your friendship so much, to the point he prefers to just be your friend than ever risking your relationship if he’s not 100% certain that your feelings are mutual.

his crush developed slowly, falling for you little by little and growing fond of you much more as time passed.

the members noticed how much he liked you when they saw that jongho lets you sleep on his shoulder whenever you are tired.

or when he willingly hugs you every time you need it.

he doesn’t like physical contact but with you, it’s natural and he sincerely appreciates it.

so careful when it comes to his feelings, because he doesn’t want to lose you or upset you.

that’s why i think he would confess through very, very long messages he’ll send late at night.

probably threw his phone away as soon as he did it, not wanting to see your response. 

but that’s also why he did it : to let you choose if you wanted to respond or just ignore what he just told you. 

so when you called the next day, he panicked.

“- Hi Jongho ! 

- H-Hi Y/N.”

At least, your tone seemed as cheerful as usually, and not upset or disappointed.

“- I must admit I was really surprised when I saw your texts when I woke up this morning. I was not expecting that at all.

- And… Is it in a bad or a good way ?”

Jongho didn’t want to pressure you, but he needed to know how you felt, needed to know if he should smile or bury himself six feet under. 

“- In a good way, don’t worry.”

You clearly heard his sigh of relief, which made you both chuckle at the other end of the phone. And both of you had the biggest smile on your faces.

“- I’ll need at least two hours to even come close to a good answer and I don’t have the time right now. So just listen to that : I like you too, so much you can’t imagine. But if you’re willing to listen to my boring ramble for hours…”

“i love listening to you, I’ll never get tired of it..”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

[throughparisallthroughrome]

R U Mine?

Summary: Anakin has an on-again-off-again, friends-with-benefits type fling with the reader, who won’t commit to him because he’s in the order. She becomes resentful of that fact and eventually starts to make him jealous. anakin loses it

Wordcount: 6.1k

CW: Smut, oral sex (male receiving), cheating but not really, Anakin and reader both being toxic, cursing, drinking, not that proofread

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to finish! I wanted it to be exactly how I pictured the song. I've also had COVID and just returned to college (taking 6 classes is insane). So, wish me luck! Lemme know if you want to be added to any taglists. As always, criticism is welcome and so is my ask box <3

masterlist.

Frustrated wasn’t the right word for what Anakin was feeling. Exasperated, maybe. Pissed? Oh abso-fucking-lutely.

The relationship Anakin had with you was… complicated to say the least. Far more than he wanted to admit- and far more than he ever liked. You swore up and down that you wanted him one day, and wouldn’t even look his direction the next. You’d get on your knees, begging for him, needing him to fuck you relentlessly; But tomorrow? Tomorrow you didn’t know his name. It suddenly became foreign to your tongue, perhaps just to spite him. That part he wasn’t entirely sure of. How could someone like you treat him like that? Lead him on just to break him the next day?

He just didn’t fucking get you. You were smart, funny, incredibly sexy, and an overall good person (when you weren’t pretending he didn’t exist). You claimed the hearts of many when you walked into a room, and the people you surrounded yourself with stay enamored, never straying too far away from your spell.

Things were far more uncomplicated at the beginning of your complicated relationship (if you could even call it that). Anakin never felt this anxiety- this fear. He wouldn’t ball his fists as he watched you flirt with another man. He wouldn’t hold his breath every time he saw you. He wouldn’t feel himself tense up after he’d cum, knowing where you would go. Of course, the more he got in trouble, the more he needed you. And that’s how he landed into the worst problem of them all.

You represented the Jedi as a lawyer, and Anakin found himself in your office from time to time. Platonically, of course. A few republic and Jedi issues on different missions brought him to you quite a few times. Whether it was for simple legal advice or he actually needed help, you were the first person he went to.

At first, he didn’t notice you much. You rarely made eye contact and stayed professional, asking a few questions occasionally as he shared parts of his missions that the council was concerned about possibly welcoming issues. The line of legality during a war can be very, very thin.

“Skywalker,” He snapped his head up, meeting your face as a grin broke out on your lips.

“I-I’m here.” He shifted up in his seat, glancing around the room for a moment before realizing he totally spaced out.

“You’re not yourself today,” You stand up from behind your desk, gracefully walking over and sitting in the seat next to him, holding his arm gently as you cocked your head and smiled.

“Wanna talk about it?”

The interaction was simple- effective. He was done for- instantly gone. He felt as if you flipped a switch in your personality just with your gaze in that very moment. You went from a peer to the most incredible thing he was blessed to lay eyes on. You were suddenly magnetic, and Anakin couldn’t fucking resist.

He opened up to you, feeling much better about it afterwards, and you told him he could come back and see you anytime he’d like- as a friend. And of course, Anakin could never resist your temptation. He came after every mission, looking forward to sitting in your office and just looking in your eyes as you intently listen. Feeling your eyes flicker down to his lips and back to his pupils. Watching as your hand snakes up and fixes the collar of your shirt, bringing his attention to your cleavage. He watched as you bit your lip intensely, breaking through your painted shiny lips into a little bit of blood.

And you knew you had him wrapped around your fucking finger.

Eventually, he asked for your contact information, “As friends,” he would say, knowing damn well it was never and would never be platonic. You talked a lot, exchanging various texts and phone calls, leading him on for weeks. He spent every waking moment thinking about you. The second you invited him out away from the Temple, another switch was flipped. Anakin’s fucking common sense.

The moment he took you home from the bar, your lips were on his feverishly, pulling him into your touch, grinding your hips against his groin. Again, he couldn’t resist. You were all he could fucking think about and here you were, practically begging for him with your tongue down his throat. He fucked you that night- the beginning of something beautiful, and fucking dangerous.

This, of course, went on for months. Those late nights, some drinks, his cock buried deep inside of you as you screamed out his name so loud you hardly had a voice the next day. You know it was wrong- he was bound by the code and you weren’t- you were taking advantage of that, advantage of him. But it felt so fucking good. And neither of you wanted to stop

Of course, neither of you expected to fall in love.

You felt something in the way he was gentle with you, the way he would brush your hair behind your cheek. The way he’d kiss your forehead while making love fucking, telling you how good you feel, how much he loved fucking you. And there was that word again. You began opening up to him, actually wanting to have a friendship aside from the casual fucking. The fucking needed the ‘casual’ part. For a while, it was straight fucking. But you still rejected him, seeing similar feelings bubble up in his eyes.

But Anakin knew he was in love a lot longer before you did. He knew it was wrong, but it only made him want you more. He knew it was bad, and he couldn’t help but be more enticed by the idea of it. The idea of you. He wanted to wake up next to you every morning, pulling you into his arms as he looked into your big doe eyes and kisses your soft lips. He wanted to come home to you, wanted to see your face light up as he swings open the front door. He wanted you to be his and only his. But he just couldn’t resist fucking you, either.

And yet you left him lonely and confused every time.

There were 3 instances he could remember where he knew you were driving him crazy- in all of the right ways. Whether it was your perfect tight pussy, those gorgeous round tits or the way you looked into his eyes, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes. You always got what you wanted from him- you were taking full advantage of the Jedi and he didn’t care.

He remembers a particularly awful mission, the separatists unexpectedly advanced on him and his battalion before they had the chance to escape. There were multiple casualties and the information ended up being lost, as well as all leads they had. It was a dead end- and Anakin was sick of dead ends.

He texted you a few times, feeling particularly annoyed by the ‘delivered’ that flashed on his phone as you never responded. He tried calling, only for it to go straight to voicemail. You were ignoring him? And for what?

He threw his phone down on his bed, leaning against his headboard and putting his face in his palms as he groaned loudly in annoyance from your rejection. He made you cum 8 times last night and you couldn’t text or call him back?

He bit his lip in frustration, thinking back onto the fond memories with you from the night before. He just needed some reassurance, after all, you two were friends, right..? He didn’t like his hesitation when he thought that. Were you really friends? Or was all of that confiding just to get into his pants knowing damn well it was against every moral he was supposed to have as a Jedi.

He abruptly stands up, realizing that maybe a night to himself would probably be better anyways. He needs a fucking drink- and he knows exactly where to go.

To say that he wasn’t going to Mazzy’s because that was where you two went for the first time and he liked the memory would be a lie. To say he wasn’t going to Mazzy’s in case he would run into you? Well, that was an even bigger fucking lie. And did he run into you…

He recalls sitting at the end of the bar, ordering a scotch from the pretty bartender and watching as she bent over to grab the bottle, showing off her tits as she gave him a wink. He nodded in response, giving a tight lipped smile while paying no mind to her advances. He grabs the scotch slightly aggressively off the bar, taking a large swig as he turns his attention away from the bartender to do a little people watching.

He skims the crowd, noticing quite a few familiar faces. For Coruscant, that was surprising. But this bar definitely had it’s regulars. He turns his attention back to the bar, watching the way the light bounced off of the multicolored glasses on the shelves as he traced his finger against the rim of his glass. And there it was. That fucking laugh.

He whipped his head so fucking fast to the location of the sound that the bartender could have sworn it almost fell off. And there you were… in all of your glory… cheating on him?

He recognized the dress, the long slit up your thigh leaving quite little to the imagination. You were practically sitting on this mans lap, laughing at his jokes and tracing his collarbone with your painted fingertip. He noticed the stain on the mans cheek, none other than your signature color. And it was extremely hard to look away from the dark spots littering your neck- the same place he left his hickeys before. He knew you had lovers before- but not like this.

His hand was clenched around his glass, his knuckles turning white as the glass threatened to break under his grip. He didn’t realize at what point he stood up and started walking over, but it had to be right after you began to aggressively make out with the stranger. He had seen enough.

“What the fuck is this?” He seethes, you pull away, slightly shocked but a smirk still trained on your painted lips.

“Ani- what are you doing here! Such a sight for poor eyes!” You cheer, throwing your arm with your cosmopolitan around the man’s neck you were with.

The mans eyes darkened and so did yours. You were clearly wasted, and Anakin felt his heart pound in his chest. You were in no position to consent to anything, much less be taken home by this man. He didn’t trust the scene that was being laid out in front of him.

He quickly grabbed your arm, pulling you off the man and spilling your drink on his chest. You yelped in surprise at his actions, but your cry quickly turned into giggles as you were amused by how irritated Anakin was. He was infuriated with you. You were being such a brat.

He opens the door to the bar and pulls you around the corner and down the alley.

“So aggressive.” You mumble and he huffs.

“What the fuck was that? What about us? How long have you been fucking around on me?”His hands pin you down against the rough bricks, his words loud and angry.

His brow twitches slightly as he waits for your response. Your mouth tugs into a smirk as you trace his collarbone through his shirt and let out a gentle laugh.

“I never said we were exclusive, Anakin.”

And there it was.

“I- oh,” His face drops at the sight of your smirk, along with his heart. “I understand,”

“Don’t worry, Ani,” You bite your lip and bring your hand to his cheek while he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, “You mean more to me than any lousy fuck I have.”

His eyes shot open to meet yours as your smile grew. He was so fucking enamored with you that he didn’t mind the manipulation your words were laced with.

You leaned further into him and kissed his cheek, letting your hands roam on his body. He groaned slightly as your hands cupped him right where he needed you. You let your lips trail down his neck, hearing a couple soft groans leaving his lips. You pulled away lowered your voice to a whisper, he shivered as he felt your hot breath on his ear.

“It was nice to see you, Ani,” You pulled away and stumbled around the corner and back into the bar.

Anakin was speechless. He was sure his jaw dropped through the ground beneath him. He didn’t know what to do- or how to even move. And as much as it pained him to leave- his drink unfinished and his tab not paid- he fucking bolted back to the temple. There was no way he was walking back in there to see you again.

Weeks later, he did his best to put you out of his mind. He knew if he started letting his mind wander, it’d go right to you and your hold on him. His feelings- his cock. But then it’d wander back to seeing you kiss another man- another man’s marks littering your neck. He couldn’t bear the thought of either. Not right now.

It was hard to do anything around the temple- he’d search every corner for you. He thanked the maker the days he would get assigned missions and get out of there. Of course, since that night, they fell very few and far between.

And of course, Anakin always did catch glimpses of you in the Temple. He’d see you in your perfect little pantsuits with your clipboard talking to some other Jedi. If he was lucky, you’d have those slutty little glasses on. His pants would instantly tighten. It had been weeks since you slept together, and he couldn’t bare the idea of his hand, knowing exactly where his thoughts would wander. Every time you caught him staring- he was gone in an instant.

The second instance happened after another rough mission- but still a success nonetheless. After arriving back to the Temple, spending some time at the med bay, briefing the council, and filling out far too much paperwork, his communicator went off at his desk.

“Skywalker, speaking,” He grunted, flipping a few pages around as he scanned over his words in his mission report.

“Oh you sound particularly delightful today, Anakin,” He rolled his eyes at the sound of his old master, the sarcasm dripping off of his voice.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Obi-Wan?” He smirked to himself, setting his pen down and leaning back in his chair.

“I’m afraid the Council has requested us to speak with Miss L/N about this mission,” Anakin instantly froze, his smile dropping, “I’m not exactly sure about the reasoning- but apparently she personally requested us. She had an interest in some parts of this mission,”

“Of fucking course,” Anakin grumbled, picking his pen up with the force and twirling it in the air as his scowl deepened.

“What was that?” Anakin froze, realizing who he was talking to.

“Nothing, Master. Will be there soon,” He quickly ended the call, leaning back in his chair and groaning as he thought about the mission. His pants had instantly tightened upon hearing your last name, and there was no time to wait for that to disappear.

He sulked and walked as slowly as he could on his way to your office, turning the familiar corners with a bad taste in his mouth. He heard your laugh from down the hall and felt his shoulders and cock stiffen.

He pushed open the door with the force, being met with you and Obi-Wan as you sat and discussed something, both of your faces beat red from laughing.

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan manages to breathe out, “Nice of you to show up,”

Anakin ignores his remark, sitting down on the sofa next to him and darkening his gaze towards you as his eyes trail down your body. The pantsuit you had on today was a deep red and tighter fitting than you normally wore. The shirt you had on underneath was skin tight, showing off your cleavage and the texture of the bra underneath. Anakin swore if he had looked longer he could see the lace of your bra peaking out, your nipples hardening underneath it.

He took a deep breath and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling the tightness in his pants really start to get him as his eyes trailed back up to the smirk that painted your lips.

“So, why are we here?” He sneered as you raised a brow, your smile growing from his annoyance. Obi-Wan nudged his leg slightly, throwing him a glare. His expression didn’t waver.

“Sassy today, I see,” You giggled to yourself, watching his eyes grow darker, the bulge in his pants growing as well, “Just came to hear a few things about the mission-“

“Like what?” He interrupted, leaning back into his seat and huffing to himself in annoyance.

“Well, Skywalker, maybe if you let me finish I could tell you.” His gaze never faltered, so you let your smile drop. You sat up straighter and became suddenly much more professional.

“Just need to know the details, Anakin. Obi Wan already told me most of it-“

“Then why am I needed?” He crossed his arms and Obi-Wan turned to look at him.

“Well, Anakin, maybe if you let our friend explain, we could talk-“ Anakin scoffs loudly at Obi-Wan, and you feel the heat rise within you.

“Okay, fine. Fucking talk. Ask. Whatever.” He furrows his brows as he watches you cross your legs and cough slightly, your tits bouncing purely for his pleasure.

“As I was saying, just needed to make sure we don’t need to worry about any legal repercussions with Hynestia Prime. You have a tendency of getting in trouble in that area, Skywalker. You can’t blame me for wanting to check- especially with a monarchy as prominent as their’s.” You clicked your pen, bringing it to your lips and gently biting it as you waited for a response from Anakin.

“I’m sure Obi-Wan mentioned it was a fairly standard in and out mission-“

“No interruptions? No casualties?” You interrupted, leaning forward slightly and meeting his fairly irritated gaze.

“If you’d let me finish-“

“Skywalker, you interrupted first.” You leaned back in your chair, unclicking your pen and writing something down, avoiding his eyes, “Besides, it’s been a while since you’ve paid me a visit, anyways.”

Obi-Wan raises a brow and Anakin coughs awkwardly as you smirk at his reaction. He glared at you before clearing his throat once again.

“Hasn’t- uh- Hasn’t been necessary. Been on my best behavior.” He stuttered out, avoiding Obi-Wan’s eyes.

“Uh huh,” You smile to yourself, clicking your pen and standing up, bending over to grab something off the floor, “Well, I’ll have paperwork sent to your quarters. I hope your writing matches your words, Skywalker.”

You walk over to Obi-Wan, shaking his hand and telling him how nice it was to see him. You avoided Anakin’s gaze, but you could feel it burning on your skin as he never wavered from his position next to Kenobi.

“It’s been lovely, Y/N. Anakin, I’ll catch up with you later,” Anakin nods in response, not meeting his eyes as he keeps them fixed upon you. The second the door is latched shut, he’s immediately in your face.

“What the fuck is your problem today? Saying that in front Obi-Wan? Risking my position as a Jedi?” You smiled under him, squeezing your thighs shut as he yelled in your face, “I mean- you are fucking unbelievable! Fucking ridiculous.” He turns away from you and begins pacing your office, rubbing his temple in annoyance.

You keep your mouth shut, your smile growing wider and the wetness growing in your panties as you watch the vein in his neck pop from anger. You walk up to him and push him on the sofa, getting on your knees in the process.

“What the fuck are you doing.” He seethes, watching you unbutton his pants.

“You’re so pent up darling,” You lick your lips as you palm him through his robes lightly, “When was the last time you gave yourself any satisfaction?”

“Y/N, please don’t-“ He’s cut off by his own groans at the feeling of you pulling out his dripping cock.

“Don’t what, baby?” You look up at him with your big doe eyes, batting your eyelashes as he groans one more time, pre cum practically pouring out of him and on your hand. “You don’t want me to take care of you?” You lift your hand up and lick the pre cum off slowly, never breaking eye contact as his breath hitches.

“I- Fuck- Ah- I don’t remember what I was saying,” You smirk at his words, gently jerking him off as you watch his eyes practically roll.

“That’s what I thought.”

You shove his cock down your throat brutally, instantly letting it hit the back. Anakin jumps slightly, letting out a loud moan at the feeling of you deepthroating him so quickly. You bob up and down, the tears flowing freely as you squeeze him in between your fingers. You could practically cum yourself with the noises he’s making.

“Y/N- Y/N- oh my fucking-“ He cuts himself off with another loud moan, feeling you milk his cock dry with your mouth. He didn’t even have to fuck your throat. You were doing it for him.

You kept going, feeling his cock spaz in your throat. He was close- very close. His moans grew louder, more raspy and whiny as you throat fucked him.

“Y/N- I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum- Ah-“ And with that, you shoved his cock all the way down your throat, licking the bottom of his shaft and giving his balls a gentle squeeze.

He loudly moans as his cock spazzes in your mouth, painting your throat white with his cum. You keep sucking and licking through his orgasm, feeling him squirm under your touch. There was more cum in your mouth than you have ever felt in your life.

You sit back, letting his cock flop back onto his lap. You open your mouth, letting the cum drip out and onto your tits as he watched with his mouth slightly agape, moaning at the sight.

“Y/N…” He whispers, watching you swallow his seed as he cups your face in his hand.

You stand up and grab a tissue for him, letting him clean up while you press a few kisses to his temple. He looks up at you and kisses you passionately, pulling away and smiling at you.

Interrupting your moment, the phone rings. You smirk at him one more time before getting back onto your feet, letting out a gentle groan as you make your way to your desk. Anakin’s eyes never leave your figure, watching your every move as his cock prepares for round two.

“Hey baby,” You answer the phone and Anakin instantly tenses, “No, I’m at work. Just been busy.” You turn to face Anakin and he’s already gone.

As much as you hate to say it, your heart ached a little at his absence.

The third and final instance Anakin would have never expected in a thousand years. But there you were.

He woke abruptly, not by a nightmare (at least yet), but to the sound of harsh knocks on his door.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes for a moment, the knocks unrelentless. Throwing the covers to the side, he stood up and put a robe and pants on, growing increasingly annoyed with whatever visitor thought it to be best to wake him up like this.

He aggressively throws open the door and his heart drops at the sight of you. Holy fuck- you were gorgeous. He felt his jaw drop slightly at you and the smirk spread on your face. He noticed a particular blush to your cheeks and he realized he could smell the liquor pouring off of you. Fuck.

“Baby,” You pushed him inside his quarters, your heels clanking against the ground as you kicked the door shut behind you, “Need you so bad,” You dropped your coat, revealing your lingerie underneath and he bit his lip.

“Y/N, what are you-“ Anakin’s cut off abruptly by your painted lips meeting his, and he stumbled back as your hand meets his cock. He groans into your mouth as you smile, deepening the kiss.

“Fuck-“ He finds himself moaning under your touch, unable to resist you as you let the lust take over.

Suddenly, his eyes widen and he pushes you off of him, catching his breath. You smirk at him, walking closer to kiss him once again only to be met with his hand on your chest, gently pushing you away from him once again.

“You’re drunk,” He breathes out, and you laugh.

“And? So what? I want you,” You whine, walking closer only to be met with his hand once again. “What’s your fucking problem?”

He scoffs at you, taking another step back away from you. “Y/N, you can’t just show up here fucking drunk and naked. What if someone saw you? What if-“

“For fucks sake will you just shut up and fuck me?” Again, you were met with resistance, his brows furrowing in annoyance.

“No, I’m not having sex with you. You’re being a brat. And you’re fucking drunk. I don’t want this.” He attempts to say calmly and you scoff at him.

“And you’re being a fucking dick.”

“I’m being a fucking dick?” He comes closer now, putting his finger on your chest accusingly, “You can’t keep your fucking legs shut! And to think that I thought we had something- meanwhile you’re calling every fucking man on Coruscant ‘baby’ while I go off to war thinking of you! Thinking that maybe- just maybe- you were thinking of me too! And fuck, was I so fucking wrong-”

“Shut the fuck up! You just want my pussy!” You stumble back away from him, avoiding his piercing gaze.

“That’s the fucking thing! I wish I did! But I don’t! I actually fucking like you. Like- a lot. And you’re so goddamn frustrating!” Anakin yells loudly, watching as you continue to pull away from him during his confession.

“You don’t mean that. You’re just saying-“ As you tried to continue, you were cut off by the sounds of your own screams, tripping over your coat and cutting yourself on a piece of metal on the floor.

“Shit- Y/N, come here baby.” Anakin immediately rushes to your aid, wincing slightly at your bloody knees on the ground below him.

“Ah fuck- Ani- It hurts,” You whine as he bites his lip at your tears, trying to figure out the best course of action.

“Here,” He puts his arms under your legs, pulling you into his chest as he picks you up and sets you on his bed. You wet his chest with your tears, emotions spilling over from the cuts and the fight. “Hold tight, sweetheart. I’m gonna clean you up, okay?”

He gets on his knees in front of you, wiping a tear from your eyes as he watches you concerned. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before getting up and hastily rushing to his bathroom. He throws open the cabinet, searching for first aid supplies as he hears your whines grow louder from the pain. The cuts were pretty deep and he cursed himself for leaving out a project so haphazardly on the floor.

“Give my hair a tug if it gets to be too much, yeah?” He gets on his knees in front of you as you give him a rushed nod. You giggle slightly at his request but the second the alcohol meets your bloody knees, your hands are in his hair and you let out a little yelp.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. I know it hurts- I’m so sorry. This will be better soon- I promise.” He mumbles to you as you continue to cry under his touch, waiting for the pain to end.

By the time he bandages you fully and gets some water in you, you’ve sobered up enough to realize your mistake. You had fallen way too hard for the Jedi in front of you- literally. And with your bloodied knees, it felt like the galaxy was telling you that.

He stands up and moves to the bathroom, putting his supplies away and washing his hands while you stand and grab your coat.

“I- Um- I’m sorry,” He pauses washing his hands, letting the water run over them as he slowly looks up at you. He can feel something’s wrong. He quickly dries them and makes his way over to you hesitantly.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Did something else happen?” He tentatively puts his hand on your arm, his breath hitching as you move away from his touch.

“Yes- sorry- just made a mistake. Thank you for taking care of me. It was nice to see you.” You avoid his concerned gaze, holding your coat to your chest tightly as you make your way to the door.

“Y/N- Wait!” He grabs your arm once again, and you feel yourself wince at his touch, tears bubbling to your eyes that you didn’t know existed. “I don’t understand- what happened?”

“Ani- I just,” you take a deep breath, squeezing your hands into fists. Finally turning to face him, you whisper, “I-I I just can’t do this anymore.”

His face instantly drops at the sight of you. You were so raw and emotional suddenly, the alcohol leaving a nasty taste in your mouth and bringing out a new side to you. One he was unfamiliar with. Before he could respond, you had shed a tear and left his quarters, leaving him hurt and confused once again.

This was different, it felt different- he could recognize that. The way you left made him nauseous. The things you said. He couldn’t help but stand there stunned, unable to move for quite some time until he realized just what happened. You ended things with him. He was more confused than ever.

In the passing weeks, as much as Anakin wanted to respect your boundaries and your wishes- he felt it to be nearly impossible. He took on more responsibilities as a Jedi, increasing his efforts in the war and politically. He did everything he could to stay away from you and get you off of his mind.

He became more closed off, distracting himself from any pain he felt possible. The people around him noticed, offering help and guidance when they could. His own padawan and old master poked and prodded about him relentlessly, but he never gave in to their concern.

Occasionally, he’d catch glimpses of you throughout the temple, and instead of his cock hardening at the sight of you like it once did, his heart only hurt. Your smile made him nauseous, your laugh a knife twisting inside of him. As much as he cared for you, he hated the idea of you doing well. Moving on without him.

And there he was, doing exactly what you did to him…

He knocked harshly, enough that if he ran away at this point it’d be fucking embarrassing. He forced himself to do this- at least he was sober when you weren’t. And he wasn’t exactly here for sex, but if it happened, well… he always heard breakup sex was nice. If he could even call this a ‘breakup’.

Anakin felt himself start to sweat a little. He didn’t know what to expect from this. What to expect from you. You were always different, always surprising him. Even when he thought he knew you- or loved you- there was always something knew that attempted to change that.

But Anakin knew deep down how hard he had fallen for you. And just how impossible it would be to change that. And while he was already sweating from nerves, it quickly turned into anger. He loved you. Loved. And yet you continued to walk all over him and his emotions? What the fuck? Has he not shown you just how devoted he was to you? Why were you so-

“Anakin,” His eyes instantly met your tired ones, darkened with a certain rage you couldn’t quite make out. “What are you doing here?”

He was silent. The scary kind of Anakin silent that sent shivers down the spines of those who witnessed it. And man, you felt it. His eyes trailed up your body, the silky lace nightgown you wore suddenly felt more revealing than it did a few minutes prior. You felt your breath hitch in your throat from his silence, your fingers fidgeting with your nightgown as you unconsciously straightened your posture a bit.

“Anakin, what are you- Hey!” He suddenly welcomed himself in your apartment, pushing through you and into your living room. You slam the door behind you, turning and facing the angry man behind you.

“You shouldn’t be here.” You sigh, attempting to stay calm as you watched the taller man in front of you unravel.

“Why? Is there someone else here?” He seethes, stepping closer to you.

“No! And even if there was- that’s none of your fucking business, Anakin. We aren’t fucking together. You are just a good fuck and that is all.” You step closer, your words twisting like knives but he never backs down. His finger meets your chest accusingly, his lips upturning into a smirk.

“Y/N, we both know that’s not it.” You shudder under his gaze, turning away from him to conceal your emotions.

“Anakin- we can’t.” You state plainly, and for once he can’t read you.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because we can’t!” You turn around and scream, “Because you’re a fucking JEDI and it’s against everything we stand for! And you’re the fucking chosen one! I’m not doing this. As much as I’d like to and as much as I fucking resent all of that- it doesn’t make the reality we are in any less of a problem.”

“I’d leave it all for you.”

“No you fucking won’t!” You give him a shove, “You’re so fucking frustrating!”

“I’m so fucking frustrating? That’s fucking rich.” He grabs your arm, forcing you to face him, “Do you know how fucking bad it hurts to watch you with other men? How hard it is to hear you call them baby? And you think that isn’t fucking frustrating? All I wanna fucking hear you say is that you’re mine. I just want you to be mine!”

“ANAKIN PLEASE!” You crumble beneath him, “It’s not like I fucking enjoy it! I spend my nights wishing it was you! It-It’s just all a fucking distraction! Because I want you so fucking bad and I can’t have you.” Your voice cracks slightly and his gaze softens upon seeing your teary eyes.

“I’m in love with you.”

“Anakin, please stop,” You fall to your knees, feeling your heart ache at his confession, “Please- we can’t do this.”

“Baby,” He sits down next you softly, holding you in his arms, “I will do everything I can to make this possible. We can keep it a secret for now and after the war? Who knows what’s possible.” You glance up at him, eyes glossy and lip quivering.

“I-I don’t know.” You whisper, avoiding his eyes, “I’ve spent so long pushing this down. Feeling resentment towards you and your status and the fact that we could never make this work. I spent so much time having really awful sex just to try and take my mind off of you.”

“Did it work?” He whispers back, his lips curving into a soft smile.

“No,” You hiccup, a blush spreading to your cheeks, “I kept accidentally moaning your name.” You both giggle and he pulls you into his arms.

“That’s my girl.”

He pulls you in once more, letting your tears dry as you both take in the comfortable silence surrounding you. You can feel his heartbeat slow, the tension leaving his muscles as he holds you close. He was finally relaxed, and so were you.

“Y/N, can I call you mine?” He whispers against your neck, and you can feel his nerves return.

“You got me, baby, I’m yours.”

[sugar-petals]

⌈ pile I - QUEEN OF CUPS „i adore you so much“

⌈ pile II - ACE OF CUPS „i’m your lover in plain sight“

⌈ pile III - JUSTICE „i’m the one you deserve“

🔓 select the tarot card that you noticed first.

⌈ NOTE 🌹 ➝ welcome to this extended nsfw reading. at the bottom of the deck i found the 5 OF WANDS (see below cut) so the overall theme is: teasing 😏 let’s find out what it means for you individually in your piles. what steamy thoughts are running circles in your person’s mind? tell me what you got and enjoy 🐝

[ deck used | the wonderful golden art noveau tarot by Giulia Massaglia — gilded example cards below, not the actual piles ]

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

the FIVE OF WANDS - today’s overall energy is playfighting. 

message. they want to give you a sexual challenge rather than indulging in a soft and hesitant mood: tease them right back and they’ll appreciate it. it’s all in good spirits as long as both play along. boldness is appreciated and keeps the chemistry running. 

no need to fear conflict, this is all friendly banter without the intent of hurting. behind all of that is the idea of testing limits + experimenting sexually through fun and activity rather than keeping it a guessing game what the other person might like. 

pile i - QUEEN OF CUPS „i adore you so much“

⌈ QUEEN OF WANDS - THE EMPEROR - PAGE OF COINS - 3 OF CUPS

Oh hot damn… Lucky in Love or Drunk in Love are the type of lyrics I’m getting from this. Nothing prevents them from thirsting over you lmao but it’s a good thing! Because they’re confident in liking you so. Damn. Much. And they know you like them back. What a secure lover this person is becomes apparent in their ambitions: They reflect dedication. Meanwhile, they’ve got a balance of mature and outgoing/youthful energy alike. And I feel like they really went from being serious in your presence to just letting it all out! Good for them, because they’re on a roll since they met you slash made contact.

The main kink I’m seeing here is teacher and student, hands down. They are seriously into pretending there’s a difference in power, authority, knowledge, age, looks, all of that. Doesn’t have to be real, it can be roleplay, but they do consider you to be someone to look up to. They pleasure themselves like mad to those thoughts, honestly. The Daddy or Mommy kink is real in this one because whew, QUEEN + EMPEROR? That’s a big deal. You two are either two bold personalities coming together (or they fantasize about that, some major powerplay) or they identify you as that person who pulls all of their strings with little to no effort. Far from intimidated, they are ready to learn and enjoy because they’re your babe.

This person is not a starfish though. Happily under your spell, I can see them quite actively horny because wow Pile 1, their sex drive is just impressive, to say the least. Not scattered, just very strong in general. And they see you just like that as well. They know you are in charge, they feel that you’ll handle the shit out of them without hesitating. Boss of their body is what I’m hearing! Not an inch will belong to anybody else. They love how madly possessive they are.

At the same time, they also think you can learn together, it’s not so set in stone. I like that contrast in the cards. Sovereignty and mature sex versus being carefree and raunchy like a student party. Like they want you to pounce on them and dominate their every cell, but they also want to be your cute little pet to fool around with. I get the impression that this person worships the hell out of you and thinks you’re the best in bed, no matter your degree of experience. That’s the thing, they would be happy with a virgin and a sexpert alike, as I said they hardly care! Because you charmed them and made your standpoint clear! Even if you have a hot VERSUS stone-cold demeanor and sex appeal, they feel inspired by that.

Your sexual energies complement each other well I feel. In their mind, you could top them so easily. They gladly submit to an orgy of pleasure. I think they trust you a lot, they just want to lose control and be chased. They won’t chase you! You’re too prideful and want to set this up on your own terms. This relationship is yours to create, they won’t interfere. They’re too starstruck and want to gather their resources first, only to find out you’re tremendous fun to be with and they had nothing to worry about.

You are the sun of their universe Pile 1, you seduced them so much. If only you would boss them around, they want it so badly. This scenario could be a total clash of titans since you are both a total smokeshow in your own ways.  They looked at you and wanted you to open up, leave the stiff old life behind and feel younger again. Since you’re so foxy to them, they treat you like the bombshell you are, with lots of reverence and respect. I’m even getting service sub vibes from your person, Pile 1, they’ll just do whatever you ask `em like you’re royalty, long as it’s consensual of course, but I don’t get any toxic fantasies from this pile, just very dom-sub centered ones.

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

pile ii - ACE OF CUPS „i’m your lover in plain sight“

⌈ EIGHT OF SWORDS - KNIGHT OF WANDS - 6 OF COINS - PAGE OF CUPS

Whirlwind kind of romance right here, lots of ups and downs in their anxious mind. You left them feeling powerless to all the energy they perceive you to so blazingly have, Pile 2. They were thunderstruck by your presence, were frozen on the damn spot. Tied. Up. Which leads us to the card imagery, by the way. Bondage fantasies is a huge theme here. I’m just sayin’… That’s their sexual fantasy when they think of you. If you’d blindfold them, or try something like knife play, even (as the swords card indicates), that would get them going so much. Despite their freaky imagination, ironically they are the mellow one, while you are the fiery counterpart that doles it all out to them in their wet dreams.

As contradictory as it sounds, reciprocating and giving back is the dynamic here, though. For instance, if you bought stuff for them, they’d be so happy and fawn over you like wild. Since this is a rollercoaster ride, however… I can’t quite tell what exactly their constant feelings are for you, Pile 2, as they are just so changeable. From no sex drive to reckless abandon to self-control to begging to being a fool in love. What a journey they’ve been through because of you. You make them feel all of this, and they’re saying thank you.

One day they want to be controlled by you, the other, they want to unleash their passion without any help and do their own dance to impress you. They have an edge but they’re romantic, they’re hopeless and they’re hot shit, they’re fair and then such a tease giving you less than you deserve, full well knowing it will keep you hooked and coming for them like an avalanche.

They want you rushing to their home like it's the firefighters. Because well, well… they’re feeling way too hot, aren’t they. At the same time, that’s the puzzling thing, they also want you to keep them at an arm’s length. If you aren’t confused about this person yet, at this point, you gotta be: Which mirrors them, in fact. They don’t quite know what they want consistently, you left them too dumbfounded to understand the situation for sure. Pile 2, this individual is head over heels for you.

Now this starstruck person dreams about being acted upon by you and they love that. Pillow prince/ss is what I’m seeing all over the spread, they have that receptive energy for the most part. They might be a little unruly once they get out of their comfort zone or don’t feel like they’re acknowledged by you (they might as well have a come-save-me fantasy… do them a favor and help them out). But when they do get signals, they are back in love romantically, yes, not so much sexually, they’re touchy-feely like crazy. Just when they felt like roaming free before! If there’s some hunter-prey fantasy going on here I wouldn’t be surprised, they want to keep you on your toes.

As I said, you get the best of both worlds Pile 2, your person is not the predictable type. Maybe that’s why you like `em. They are flirts and then they’re not. They want rough sex and then they want affection little by little. But the final note in their mind is always this: They want you to glued to them, to go wild for them, to witness them like a fish in the water: Through requited love. All they want is to be asked out and live their dreamy, sensitive love. Confusing you is not their intention. Don’t forget they just want love at the end of the day.

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

pile iii - JUSTICE „i’m the one you deserve“

⌈ KNIGHT OF COINS - PAGE OF SWORDS - THE SUN - THE EMPRESS

What started out as a sensual, stable connection which didn’t go down in flames of horniness now turned their head into a mush. Which then turned into them bursting with vitality! An online message of yours shook them up, or something you said. But in a positive way, because they’re so happy now. Romantic, personal, sexual bliss, they’re feeling so good about themselves because of you, the dull days are over. What a mood boost you gave them, and they’re confident in their looks because of your steady presence/communication, oh my word.

Because you started out easygoing and then picked up speed, they are absolutely feeling themselves like it’s nobody’s business. I’m so happy for you, Pile 3, because your person is just prancing around like a child after you’ve been frank with them. Talking it out was so needed. Approaching it from a headspace was. Being chatty with them made your person super hot and bothered, too. Hell, they are totally into your voice, the way you take your time when you walk, the way you carry yourself, how you dress up, the way your hair is tousled (if you wear it longer), how you treat yourself, how you choose your words, and how you smile especially.

At first, they were so scared how serious and single-minded you came across. Now they’re blushing and sweating their ass off because you said what you said and you paid attention to them! When they thought they were the knight in shining armor, you gave them a reality check and dodged the bullet, stood your ground instead of playing helpless — which worked in their favor not to get their hopes up and invest right away. That’s how you made this person’s libido explode. But in a good, wholesome way.

This proper mix of humor and the crazy slow burn (!) between the two of you has them going nuts without actually making them crazy, you know? Just healthy adoration and warmth they feel. I get the impression your person has lots of sexual stamina, Pile 3. They know what they’re doing, y’all… they might come across as a total sunshine, but they are, oh my word. Fertile as hell, go all the way, ready to make those babies and live the good life. In this economy? Your person thinks so, who am I to judge, they want that settling down and parenthood. They just know you’d be good at raising kids. But without compromising the mental stimulation, which you give them consistently.

And because you’re such a hottie with charm and good looks, they’re at your feet. You rule them! Your sex appeal has their pretty head spinning, their routine is broken, they can’t get enough of you, they want this in-depth (literally!). For long, they fantasized about having carefree sex with you out in nature, wild and free. Never too much of a good thing with you. You’re so juicy to them, graceful, steamy, gorgeous, you seem to have it all in their eyes. 

They think you have elevated status or just carry yourself in a way that shows your life is fulfilled and abundant. Oh hell, what don’t they like about you. Maybe you can be too direct and frank at times? They prefer your magnanimous, silly, soft, giving, cute’n’comfy side. They need to be taken care of a little, or need your cheer-ups. Because they want to take it easy, and not have conflict and difficulty in communication. Healthy, loving, and lasting (!) sexuality is the gist of this, I’m thinking. Quite Venusian of them, I see their sexual thoughts as Libra/7th house or Taurus/2nd house-themed. An all-around feel-good reading, Pile 3, I love the positive cards you got.

{ 𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚝/𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚖.𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 }

FINAL NOTE. meet me in the reply section if you want, and if you got stuff i can improve about my PAC posts, drop a comment as well, i want to brush up my format again!

⭐️ DISCLAIMER // there is no guarantee for accuracy. believing in the cards is a choice. 

© 2017-2023 sugar-petals. All readings for entertainment purposes only: They do not substitute any professional advice. Take what resonates, discard the piles that don’t hit home. If you aren’t drawn to any pile that’s okay, these messages aren’t for you. Do not repost my readings.

[little-star-library]

I apologize for the onslaught of posts that I’ve unleashed on you all at once, but it is currently three o’clock in the morning here and maybe it’s my insomnia that’s kicking in or it’s just too godsdamn hot in my bedroom. So alas, here I am, struggling to fall asleep for the night. I thrive sleeping in the cold and loathe the sweltering heat and I know that it will only get worse once Summer comes around, but this fact got me thinking and I’d like to share it with you.

~

I like to imagine that Astarion is the type of person who loves to cuddle with his partner once he’s comfortable enough to do so and once he’s gotten a taste for it, he simply can’t get enough of it. So naturally, he would be more than happy to cuddle up with you when you would complain to him if it was too warm at night to your liking and had a difficult time trying to fall asleep. He would tease you mercilessly about only wanting him for his body just so you could snuggle against his icy skin, but he secretly rejoices in these moments because it makes him feel wanted and he also has the chance to have you as his personal heater and warm him from the inside out.

And since he really has no need for sleep himself other than the occasional trance as his “long rest”, he would often like to read to you while you rested your head in his lap, softly stroking through your hair until you would eventually drift off. Or in most cases, he would hold you in his arms and bask in the warmth that was radiating through your body and you finally gaining the relaxing comfort of his embrace, the sensation of his cool touch making you sigh in relief from the sweaty and uncomfortable feeling of the summer heat.

It would be mutually beneficial for the both of you, considering that you were polar opposites in these circumstances, but it would also be very endearing to share a moment like this with Astarion. It really didn’t matter that you would only seek him out as a way to cool down from the balmy atmosphere, he had a certain charm about him that you would instantly gravitate towards him if he so deemed it and there was no other force in the world that could pull you away from one another. He enjoys being in your company and being able to let his guard down and cuddle with you was just another wonderful perk in his book. Without a doubt, you had him under your spell as you lay together in his tent and slowly drifted off to sleep together, a rare treat that only you could provide as he found himself to be well rested the next morning. It would be safe to say that he would never let go of you now and would even offer to let you spend every night with him from now on if it meant that he could hold you once more, not only to feel your warmth, but also the love you held for him.

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION ABOUT THE WEIRD DROW

Replying to a couple of shorter questions! Sorry that I can't get to all of you lest this blog just turns into a stream of constant asks, but I read all of your messages and to be honest there are several that I'm saving to draw something for 😭 alas there are only so many hours in a day.

Thank you for all the support and interactivity as always!

He takes fairly good care of things he considers important or useful - otherwise he's pretty messy or at least indifferent to mess. Definitely a "leaves the wet towel on the bed" guy LOL

Okay so I was bad and not used to DnD mechanics or spells the first time I played the game, so I RARELY ever cast Speak With Animals and had very little sense of their personality during his campaign - BUT THERE WAS THIS ONE TIME WHEN I DID.

THERE WAS ONE TIME WHERE I REMEMBERED.

AND IT WAS PERFECT.

He adores and most of all respects this intense little guy with his whole heart.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

Serious answer: he respects wild animals far too much to try and make one into a pet.

Non-serious but still true answer: He would never do that and have to deal with Astarion's incessant Drizzt Do'urden joke comparisons for the rest of his existence. That's that man's personal hell.

He's fairly adaptable! But as far as dynamics go, he does lean bottom regardless of who he's with in bed, but this doesn't necessarily translate into always being on the receptive end of things.

If he were to be with a cisgender woman who doesn't wear a strap like its a second pair of briefs, he would be more than happy to be the pitcher the majority of the time. I think the only scenario where he would be dissatisfied is a restrictive one - he couldn't be with someone who doesn't want to enjoy his whole body in earnest, or who can't flip the roles every once in a while. Also, you have to be a little gross. He has probably caught Astarion off-guard with the things he did on a whim/suggested they do more than once. All in all, as long as whoever he's with is versatile and not a prude, they could probably make it work.

He killed Minthara in her lair and all he got was a bear out of it. Good thing killing her was it's own reward!

MAN... Could just be that his story is far too concrete in my brain already, but it's hard for me to see that working. They are both far too out of touch with their emotions and quiet in their demeanor for me to envision a durable romance sparking. Also, DU drow (who has no clue how old he is himself) thinks of Shadowheart as being far too young for him.

There is a mutual understanding between them that there is a barrier that neither of them is willing to let the other get past - and because that is something they both share, they won't, and they might never try. They work so well as friends because of their similarities, but in a relationship I think that would be to their detriment.

Also, I think silver-haired Shadowheart's wants and needs for her future far diverge from DU drow's chaotic lifestyle, ultimately It's probably best for them to make their own paths.

HAHAHAHA LISTEN.... YOU'RE TALKING AS IF THOSE TWO THINGS DON'T GO TOGETHER PERFECTLY WELL BUT IN MY MIND THEY ARE ONE AND THE SAME.

The thing about DU drow is that he might be a bottom, but he's a very... Uh, engaged bottom. He can be as dominant with a dick in his ass as he can be submissive depending on how it jives with his partner- and he's gonna spew some nonsense either way LOL

Either way... I feel ya brother 😔🍑

He did it himself during a dinner Gortash invited him to. At the table. With a meat knife. He was trying to prove a really stupid point/put Gortash off of him.

I have a script for this and I still need to draw it someday! 🤦‍♂️

He doesn't think anything of it now - it's so far in the past and DU drow obviously isn't the judgemental type when it comes to sordid individuals LOL

As a person, however, Astarion likely wasn't the kind of guy that he would have gotten along with, and vice-versa. Sounds to me like he was pretty poshy and did all his misdeeds under the table - DU drow wouldn't have strong feelings about it from an ethical standpoint, but he wouldn't respect it either. Also, DU drow's is practically anarchistic in his political views - soooooo not much room there to be in love with politicians. I'm sure pre-vampirism Astarion would have less than favorable opinions about him as well so the feeling would have been mutual LOL.

ABSOLUTELY NOT HE NEEDS BOTH EYES TO CUT THROUGH FOES he will gladly put Gale on the slab to see what happens though LMAO

[unreliablesnake]

I want you, but… [Ghost x reader (platonic)]

Summary: Ghost doesn’t like to see you date someone else. But when he has the chance to get what he wants, his common sense wins.

Note: We’re all sad bitches in this house (that’s me, I’m the sad bitch) so no happy ending. Ghost, I love you, but you’re an idiot. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

Part 2

Ghost usually isn’t the jealous type, but with you it takes very little to lose his cool. You’ve never been together, he knew he had no right to be mad at guys who flirted with you, he had no right to be angry with you for letting them, but it still happened sometimes.

One of the new doctors at base who treated your wound was really nice to you. Ghost was there, he volunteered to escort you to sick bay, making sure you didn’t collapse on the way, and when he saw the way the doc was looking at you, the kind, humorous way he was talking to you, he immediately knew what this was all about.

You didn’t seem to mind the attention, in fact you encouraged him by keeping up the playful conversation despite being in pain. Ghost took a hesitant step forward, planning to ask how you were, if he could bring you something, anything that could break the spell you were under, but he changed his mind last minute. He should keep his distance, he had no right to stand in the way.

He had been more irritated lately as he had been before. Johnny’s usual jokes simply went over his head, he didn’t even feel like being around others. You and that doctor got pretty close, pretty fast, and there was nothing he could do to stop this relationship from blooming.

Ghost picked up women for one night only, trying to forget you at least until he was fucking someone else, but all he could think about was you. Your smile, your laugh, your stupid sense of humor. He missed you, especially when you were both back home and there was no way for him to reach you.

All he could do was stalk you on social media. You barely posted photos of yourself, but when he saw a picture of you and–based on the size of the hand–a man clinking glasses at a bar probably, his heart sank. You were happy with someone else, feeling so confident about the relationship that you were ready to share it with your family and friends.

But then he checked the caption. “Sometimes ‘let’s stay friends’ isn’t an empty promise.”

He sat up in bed and reread the sentence. Did this mean you broke up? Hope filled his heart at the thought, even though he wasn’t sure how this could help him. He was your superior, the two of you getting together would cause a scandal for sure. Price wouldn’t be happy, the others might begin to believe he would play favorites with you, so everything pointed in the direction that you could never be together.

A few weeks later you were back on a mission together, and Ghost didn’t really know what to do. He was nervous around you, always carefully thinking about what to say before opening his mouth.

One evening Soap pulled out a bottle of booze from his bag, inviting the core team for a drink to relax a little. That one bottle turned into two, then three, the number growing because you were having fun together and apparently everyone brought something to drink just in case.

“So what’s with you and that doctor?” Gaz asked out of nowhere, almost causing the lieutenant to choke on his drink.

His eyes were glued to you, and your eyes traveled from one person to another until they locked with his amber ones. “It didn’t work out,” you admitted before turning to Gaz again. “Also, he’s going back to a civilian hospital. Less stress, he said. But I’m not sad or anything.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” Soap noted casually as he raised his glass.

Around one in the morning Price told everyone to go to sleep, saying they all needed some rest to sober up. While Price, Soap and Gaz left, you stayed behind with Ghost, your hands folded behind your back as you watched him with an anxious smile. The lieutenant didn’t really know what to say to you, so he decided to remain silent.

Even though he turned his back to you, he could still feel your gaze on him. “What is it?” he asked when he turned around to face you.

You inhaled then exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm yourself. But then you took a hesitant step towards him and said, “Are you happy that I broke up with him?”

“Why would I be happy?”

“You liked the photo I posted weeks ago. You know, the one about let’s stay friends. Also, there’s another thing,” you began, but you stopped talking. Ghost raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. “Peter told me something that made me think. He said you were giving him death glares ever since he first talked to me in your presence after I got hurt on the field.”

Fuck, he had noticed. It’s not like he tried to hide it, but he sure wasn’t expecting the doctor to pay so much attention to him. What was he supposed to say? That yeah, well, I’m sorry, but he wasn’t good enough for you? In the end he let out a long sigh and put a hand on the back of his neck.

“I hope he didn’t break up with you because of that,” he noted quietly.

You raised an eyebrow at this in question. “What makes you think he was the one who broke up with me? Maybe it was me who let him go.”

“Did you?” You nodded. “Why?”

“Maybe there’s a big, scary guy I would rather spend my time with,” you replied with a playful smile.

Ghost wanted to kiss you so badly it hurt, but he kept his urges under control. When he stepped a little closer to you, you did the same, and eventually you closed the gap between you. He reached out to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear, watching as your breath caught in your throat from surprise.

After gulping loudly, you reached out to take his hand. “Was he right? Do you like me, lieutenant?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m your higher-up, it wouldn’t work anyway. Go to sleep,” he told you, even though this was killing him.

He could see the signs. He could pinpoint the exact moment your heart shattered into pieces because of his response. Biting on your lower lip to stop yourself from crying, you nodded and left him standing there, making him hate himself more than ever before.

[yuri-is-online]

Ok but how did ace even get a girlfriend in the first place? Did she confess and he just went along with it? Did he think having a girlfriend would make him seem cooler? Was it a dare or something? Cause for someone like ace to just go ghost on her and not have an actual talk, kind of makes me feel like these two were not friends before they were partners.

So then, fast forward to nrc, ace is trying so hard to lose the feelings he has for his best friend. Because that's all they are: friends, homies, if you (duece) will. Yuu has the cream of the crop to pick from, he's kind of at a disadvantage here.

Plus, whose to say their entire dynamic won't change the second they get together? He doesn't want to get bored and start to hate one of his dearest friends by proxy, so might as well just play it safe and suffer a little than take that risk and the both of you suffer a lot 🤷‍♂️.

Meanwhile yuu, who still has their old phone/mp3 player, has been playing Jenny by Studiokillers on repeat. Lying in their bed, just down horrendous for this absolute ball of boyish mischief. How dare he, honestly?

Well. At least he gives them a lot of openings to flirt with him?

*disclaimer, I was home schooled so my actual knowledge about middle school dating is beyond non-existent so take what I say with a grain of salt

The information we get about Ace's girlfriend comes from his suitor suit vignette and he does not mention how they actually got together, just some of the things that they did and how boring Ace thought all of them were. And I agree! The way they broke up does not make it sound like they were friends before dating, though they could have been casual acquaintances. The way Ace likes to goof around makes me think he was probably pretty popular, and had a lot of those types of relationships. His description of the relationship makes me think he probably went out with her because he thought she was cute and that it would be fun to have a girlfriend, but didn't actually stop to think about who she was as a person or what dating actually means. And hey, he was in middle school. He was going to be a bit stupid about those sort of things. The experience seems to have made him think a lot about what he wants in a partner, and we know from Ortho he was telling the truth when he's forced to spell it out:

His voice lines flesh out what he wants a bit more; he says he thinks it's important to find someone you have fun with and that he wants to get married later in life. So Ace knows what he wants... he just gets really embarrassed when called out on it and refuses to talk honestly about his feelings (though he kind of does that in general hehe)

So flashing forward to NRC. Ace knows what he wants and Yuu is such a perfect fit it hurts. Best friends to lovers is a popular trope in fiction sure, but in real life? At a school? Yeah right, Ace still has to see them every day if they break up, and not to mention... I feel like Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Yuu sort of fell into their dynamic almost immediately after the mine adventure and didn't ever stop to think about it because of how natural the friendship felt. And Ace knows if things end badly he's losing the whole squad, so yeah. Better to just swallow this and stay where he is. He's still in school! He doesn't need to think about dating! He's got a housewarden to surpass, upperclassmen he admires, and a bunch of idiots to take care of. He can worry about dating later. Besides, these feelings will go away after graduation he's delusional sure of it!!!

Meanwhile, back at the ranch Ramshackle Yuu is literally in a living hell. Maybe they're a bit more emotionally mature than Ace and they just know this could work out but THEY CAN'T TELL IF HE LIKES THEM BACK BECAUSE HE KEEPS GETTING SHY AND MAKING JOKES FML!!!! But like he also lets them steal his gym shirt :ccc and he gets pouty when someone else makes an offer :ccc and really smug when Yuu says no ccc: so like maaaybe? Or maybe not and this meaningless flirting is all they'll ever have and they just. Try to be ok with it and they sort of hate themselves for it.

until Sebek properly joins the friend group and looses his fucking shit

[burstingwithbellies]

Through a ritual, your womb becomes a magnet. Nearby fetuses are drawn inside, and memories rewritten; those were always your babies, so far as everyone else is concerned. You cannot control it either, no matter how many or how far along they are, if they enter a certain range, you'll bloat with additional passengers. The question is now, what do you do with this power? What happens to you that is outside of your control? How fast will you become?~

I had fun with it at first. I did have my very own superpower after all. Not a super conventional one; it wasn’t really practical but it was mine.

It made me feel powerful. Each step I took, I rewrote history. My womb sucked in all the children within my 2-foot radius. My skin and womb was elastic and super strong, capable of storing as many as possible.

And I was prepared to have my belly written down in the books. 5 weren’t enough for, 6 weren’t enough, 7 babies were pitiful. I wanted above 2 digits and wanted to be world-famous for my size.

I quickly reached my goal. At first, it was a headache finding a preggo until I realized that clinics exist. In just one stop, I swelled with 14 babies under a minute. Everyone in the room lost their bumps.

Also, with my power, no one really registers my growth spurts. As I grew, as far as they knew, what happened was that this colossal pregnant person in ill-fitted clothes stepped into their clinic. The parents who lost their bellies got their memories replaced with the thought of them only being in the clinc to find out their chances of fertility.

Everyone was blown away by the bump and amount inside of me. The nurses of the clinic quickly rushed me to the nearest doctor. Clearly, I wasn’t the type of person they were used to.

My womb took in children, no matter how big or small they were. Babies that were just about ready where mixed with a few weeks old babies. With the spell placed over my body, the smaller babies are able to catch up with the older ones but that usually takes a while.

So, I’m constantly swelling. But I can tell the difference between a growing baby or a new one added. A new baby was always jarring. It shook my whole system, letting me know intensely. My belly quivers in a way that makes me register that this baby is foreign.

I was content with the 14 I was gestating. They were all I needed at that point. I planned on delivering them after I’m picked up by the news.

One day, it happened: I had to appear for an interview on live television -- because of my fantastic fertility -- but before that, I needed to get some scans of my occupants.

They wanted photos of just how many babies there were. They need the proof. And it would have been nearly said and done, but one downside to my power is that… I don’t exactly have control over how many I can take in.

If I’m in the proximity of any pregnant person, their babies are as good as mine — whether I want them or not.

An hour away from the clinic and I felt a new one drop in. People under 20 weeks were so annoying. It’s hard to tell if they were pregnant and they would make me accidentally take in their child.

When I arrived and walked into th building, an 3 extra got absorbed, which was no biggie. 17 babies is still an amazing headline and manageable for me.

But the further I walked inside… For some reason, I didn’t anticipate all the pregnant people there.

I swelled like crazy. Before I could sit in the waiting room, I collapsed to the floor due to the overwhelming increase in my gut. Everyone looked at me in horror and questioned how I even managed to fit inside the building.

I… I don't know how much I was carrying anymore. Could I even go into my doctor's office and check? The weight was too overwhelming. It was starting to crush me and I felt faint.

It felt like several earthquakes were going on inside of me. I was trembling all over. Before everything went back, I saw my own flesh starting to cloud my version.

I feel like I might make international headlines now.

[ad-caelestia]

i've spent a lot of time saying "here's what you could do" as a witch versus "here is what i actually do" as a witch, so let's go.

as much as i try to stir my coffee in one direction or another, it always ends up counter-clockwise - instead of seeing it as a mistake, i just work around it by thinking of it like, i'm banishing (counter-clockwise) negativity from my day versus attracting (clockwise) positivity.

i tend to use colors that align with planets versus other folkloric associations - instead of a green candle for money, i'll use a blue one because blue is associated with jupiter which is associated with wealth and good fortune. lucky for me, all the other planets have colors that align appropriately so i don't have to think about those as much (sun - gold, moon - silver, mercury - ehhhhh a mix of like, yellow/violet/indigo, venus - baby pink/mint, mars - red/rust, etc etc.).

i have a money bowl that i redo on the first of every month and i set a cinnamon stick above my front door for prosperity - i have a tiny little angel of a bunny whose health means more to me than the ritualistic act of blowing cinnamon into your home from outside the front door.

my "grimoire" or book of shadows or WHATEVER you wanna call it lives on my computer via onenote and is also scattered through many many notebooks i have collected over the years - if i'm being honest, i am way too picky about my handwriting and messing things up when i am writing in pen that i would just rather keep it somewhere i can type and alt+f to get where i need to go.

my main altar lives on a pretty gold and faux marble bookshelf but honestly, my whole house is my altar - there are sacred spaces at every corner if you know what to look for.

if i want something for my craft, i try to repurpose old things or thrift for them - you'd be amazed what you can do with some of the most basic things (i found my money bowl, which is a crystal dish, at the thrift store for 99 cents); the dollar 25 tree is also a good spot to shop for cheap trinkets.

much of my craft is muscle memory, which has come from YEARS of practice - if i'm cooking and need to use like, basil for example (luck, money, protection), i just kind of already know what it's "good for" and keep that in the front of my mind while i'm cooking so the intent doesn't get buried.

i really REALLY prefer to make my own stuff but that's not always feasible - i really thought the other day that i could just start making candles for myself and had to put that thought on HOLD because let's be real, i'm not doing all that. instead, i will continue to use all the chime candles i have collected over the years instead of immediately going out to find something new.

cleansing ritual who? every time i mop my floor or clean the baseboards or wipe down the counter, i'm cleansing my space. i very much believe that mundane cleaning can be equally as magical and therapeutic if the intent is there.

same thing with literally any other magical thing i do these days: i won't go digging for new items to serve me and my spellwork, i will just use what i already have.

doing spells when the opportunity presents itself versus days of planning - i got a new body wash the other day whose main ingredient and scent is rose so i figured i could use it for a glamour at some point; needed some cinnamon the other day for pancakes and stashed some away for use as a catalyst later on; stuck a bay leaf in my pasta sauce while cooking and made a little wish beforehand.

tethers. everywhere. this one's a bit personal for me but generally speaking, i like to tie energy to a physical object and store it for later use.

i have never buried anything in my yard for any reason - i usually just stick it in a box if the spell isn't finished, cleanse and reuse, or discard all together after thanking it for its assistance.

i swear i have a mean tarot deck and a nice one so i tend to be biased and choose accordingly. 🙃

i also have two pendulums i don't use and a set of blue goldstone runes that i have had for 8 years but don't touch anymore. let that be a gentle reminder that you don't have to do all the things, i promise.

anyway, those are some things about my craft ok bye

[fulgurbugs]

What would the travelers Pokémon teams be?

I can totally see Alfyn having a Blissey. Therion seems like he’d have a Gengar, potentially.

ok. upon literally hours of deliberation and team building (i actually already had ones for the OT1 travelers but decided to revisit them and change a few picks) me and my bestie @snailcruncher have settled on some teams. i will be going in depth on reasonings for these so prepare for a long post lol. im gonna put it under a readmore because really im not joking about how long it is

we also came up with some ideas/lore for why some of these would be picked in a pokemon AU setting, so i’ll be explaining any of those thoughts if they’re relevant too.

Ophilia:

one of the only teams left untouched, I think this is a good batch for her. i’m imagining a scenario where the sacred flame takes the form of a pokemon, and it’s a lampent. frosmoth and togetic felt just like… the right vibe. Lapras and Ampharos both have associations with guiding, so they’re in. Audino is a notable healing pokemon, and it feels in line with her personality as well.

Cyrus:

Alakazam for mr high iq smart guy. duh. oranguru for his role as a teacher, and Runerigus would be a late acquisition to his team in his ch4. Flareon, Glaceon, and Jolteon for the 3 scholar spell types. i also think him having 3 eeveelutions could also be kind of like, they’re really good for demonstrations for single-type stuff, as well as being popular with others. people might come up to him and be like omg you have a flareon i love flareon pleaseeee tell me more (flirtily) which of course would go over his head and he would start telling you flareon facts. I feel like Cyrus would excel in double battles.

Tressa:

Meowth: the pay day signature pokemon. this is as close as i can replicate to tressa randomly finding money. Skwovet (she can now take her pet squirrel with her in a pokeball)

Gyrados for sure. one, she lives along an ocean, so she should definitely have a water type, two, i’m imagining a scenario where she buys a magikarp cheap, seeing the potential in it, then raises it into a real powerhouse. just like her!

carbink: really funny scenario me and the bestie came up with that instead of eldrite the treasure was diancieite. the carbink is from the same cave. tressa did try to evolve it with the diancieite. it didn’t work.

pidgeot… felt like she needed a flying type (wind magic rep) and i feel like she’d gravitate to the humbler normal types… doesn’t get much more straightforward than pidgeot. Dhelmise… maybe it used to be captain leons, maybe she fished it out of the harbor in rippletide herself. either way, she thinks it’s cool

Olberic:

Aegislash: sword form, shield form…. this pokemon itself is the unbending blade. obviously i have given him several other sword based pokemon, too.

gallade, escavalier, and sirfetch’d badically all fit this. they’re knight-like, so they feel fitting i think to him.

as for conkeldurr and garganacl, they feel kind of… solidly built. like him. ( ⬇️ garganacl pick lore)

Primrose:

almost all of her pokemon can learn some kind of dance though their level up. Oricorio is the obvious choice, dragonair reps dragon dance, beautifly reps quiver dance, and lilligant… well they can learn so fucking many. we couldn’t decide on which one to give her, so we ended up giving her both. they’re her backup dancers or whatever.

mawile just feels very primrose to me. its cute or pretty or whatever, and you might underestimate it… but watch out. it bites.

Alfyn:

he feels like a guy who loves a big fluffy dog. and stoutland has also been used in games for its ability to sniff out items, so it feels like it’d be a good pick for an apothecary looking to sniff out herbs and such. Comfey is an obvious pick, i mean its signature move is. floral healing. meganium also has mentioned in its dex entries its healing and calming properties. it’s also a cool as fuck dinosaur so i think alfyn would like it.

chatot. does this even need explanation

we also wanted to give him an ice type, and settled on cubchoo. it has a perpetually runny nose… even Alfyn can’t fix it, try as he might.

as for leavanny, we had some trouble picking the last slot on this team. we were looking through friendship evos, and leavanny caught my eye. it’s dex entries mention that it’s very gentle, it also shows no mercy to foes who target young pokemon. seems fitting… we decided alfyn got it as a swadloon (maybe it could be taught to use its sewing abilities to dress wounds?) and it evolved during his ch3.

Therion:

I think Krookodile, mimikyu, and klefki are quite obvious picks, so i won’t go too in on them. Ninjask and Shedinja…. Ninjask is super speedy, so it felt right to give one to therion, but also i feel like.. he’d keep the shedinja around. even with 1 hp and one billion weaknesses… it’s still a part of his team. it and ninjask were born from the same nincada. he couldn’t abandon it like that.

and applin lol. something about therion gives me “guy who’s going for a cool as fuck hydrapple and ends up with an appletun actually”

H’aanit:

If anyone’s allowed to have legendaries, it’s the hunters. Chien-pao is as close as we can get to a snow leopard. and yeah maybe it’s a little evil but H’aanit is built different. Decidueye feels like an obvious pick, and spirit shackle is a great signature move for the h’aanit vibe. trapinch for. leghold trap. kilowattrel is literally a thunderbird. and ariados… well, it has the ability sniper, to reference hunter’s crit boosting abilities, as well as having some trapping moves like webs. for the Hunters, I’ve left their last spot blank, but this just means like, a “flex” spot that would be different each time you battled them. H’aanits got boxes of options to choose from.

now, onto the OT2 ones!

Ochette:

I’m sure you can see what i’m going for here. it’s just the closest i could get to Akala/mahina and her 3 story beasts. and again, like H’aanit, the last spot is “flex” not empty, so imagine her bringing some different new bullshit to every battle.

Cassti:

i wanted to do a few things with Castti: obviously, give her some healing-y mons, but also a few oddball picks that might have you looking twice. picked Shiinotic because of its ominous dex entries, and then. toedscruel because i realize shiinotic actuallt doesn’t get spore i think? and i think castti “put em to sleep right in the street” florenz should have a mon with spore. (edit. i actually just cant read the bulbapedia tables and shiinotic does get spore. anyways she gets two spore mons i guess cuz what if she’s gotta knock out two people at the same time. or whatever. dustox emits toxic powder from its wings, which seems like it could be something castti would want to keep on hand for poison axe. these three might seem a little weird tho, and reinforce her bad first impression in canalbrine, even though i’m sure they’d all be very well behaved and nice. Blissey and Arboliva are straightforward healing picks. I feel like these would be common for apothecaries to have in general.

and then galar-slowking. poison-activated brain nonsense. i feel like she acquires this one post-amnesia. they feel a kinship with each other.

Throné

Throné’s team is half-blacksnakes dedicated, half catered to herself. Every blacksnake has a seviper or an ekans, as well as probably most of them also having other grunt-esque pokemon, like zubats and such. throné’s taken care of hers, though, and friendship evolved it into a crobat.

chose furfrou because i think throné would like a prissy little dog she can dress up cutely. milcery, which she’s waiting on evolving until she can figure out what alcremie form she wants, and a shade-cherrim.

oh, and zangoose, of course. the natural enemy of sevipers. one appeared to her right after she left new delsta. what a sign, right?

Osvald:

Osvald we had some interesting stuff to work with, I think. we decided that most of his pokemon were newly acquired after his prison escape- not on purpose. they seem to just take a liking to him and start following him around.

the avalugg helped get him out of the frozen water at cape cold, and then stuck with him.

the teddiursa.. also just stuck with him. we wanted to give him something that felt a little oddball for him… so this doesn’t evolve. it stays cute and unevolved forever.

the shuppet was found hovering around the ruins of Osvald’s house. he was reluctant to take it, but if it was formed out of some semblance of his desire for vengeance… he has to be responsible for it.

the Indeedee is the only one of osvalds old pokemon, out of this lineup. since indeedee are so helpful to people, it was kind of a family pokemon acquired after elena’s birth (dex mentions they’re good at babysitting.) Osvald could probably also trust it with simple lab assistant tasks like moving stuff around. was a very beloved pokemon within their family. anyways, following his sentencing, clarissa managed to get ahold of the indeedee and took care of it all this time. when osvald returns, it’s clear it wants him to take her with him.

the drampa was acquired after the events of montwise, having shown up and basically just forced itself to go with osvald. somehow it seems to know what’s going on and who it can trust…

and slowking.. well, smart guy needs a smart pokemon. it’s another one that took a shine to him, though at that point he was getting used to this happening.

Partitio:

Talonflame: partitio’s aptitude for fire magic and the “chickadee” nickname made this an obvious choice for an ace. I can imagine a young partitio’s first pokemon being a fletchling, for sure.

bramblegast. the funny tumbleweed. put it on the team immediately.

Milotic: Paritio picked up a feebas. having a knack for seeing the potential in pokemon, he wasn’t wrong, and now hes got this thing. it’s very popular with other people, though it seems an odd pick for partito at first glance to strangers.

armarouge: ok this one’s a little convoluted so i will explain it later. kind of vibes based pick tho lol. revavroom kind of. uhh. steam engine. (we can pretend)

there ain’t a more partitio pokemon out there than gholdengo. everyone say thank you scarvi for giving partitio most of his team.

Agnea:

hey, it’s another oricorio! i think you can guess why.

volcarona: learns fiery dance, but we thought up even more lore on this one. the larvesta was a family pokemon. mostly belonging to Garud (we ended up deciding that the Bristarnis had a lot of bug types, who help out with the sewing stuff and larvesta does give a little bit silkworm, lol..)

anyways, part of his blessing for sending agnea off was telling her to take the larvesta, who also turned out to be a dazzling star in the end too… after a lot of hard work.

altaria and leafeon rep dragon and swords dance. i just feel like they’re good picks for her energy, too. lunatone reps the moonstep. I’ve also opted to give her a sunny cherrim, which i think would be cute contrasted with Throné’s gloomy one.

Temenos:

temenos has quite the oddball lineup for a cleric. but hes kind of an oddball cleric so i think it works.

Absol. man. a lot of shit happens to temenos. this absol is stressed tf out 24 fucking 7. sorry man.

Clefable: felt like we had to give him a healer-adjacent pokemon and this one evolves with a moonstone. feels fitting for mr night-ability mistral tbh.

Lokix. alright. another scenario based pick. Temenos caught this thing on the pilgrims way as a nymble at like level 2. probably rustling in the metaphorical tall grass, crick is all “get behind me, it could be dangerous” and then. lvl 2. nymble. doesn’t even need to be fought to be caught. and then temenos is all hey crick, it’s a “crick”et pokemon! (we’ll ignore that the dex says grasshopper) he’d keep it just to mess with crick, but it ends up sticking around.

Houndoom. well, temenos is the pontiff’s hound, so we did need to pick a dog for him. it’s a houndour in the beginning, houndoom by the end. probably evolved in a moment of crisis (in ch4?) the yamask is from crackridge.

wooloo. this is actually Crick’s. it wasn’t helping with the little lamb allegations… after the events of stormhail, Temenos takes it in.

Hikari:

Kingambit: i mean. come on. gotta get a kingambit for the future king.

Gardevoirs dex entire mention that it is dedicated to its trainer/cause to the bitter end, and would do anything to protect it. perfect for Hikari.

Morpeko and Zweilous. some literally two-faced pokemon. (maybe he feels a little bit of a kinship with them in that way) i also really wanted to give Hikari a pseudo-legendary, and i think that his zweilous would probably evolve just in the nick of time to kick some ass against mugen. Hydreigons might be notoriously destructive, but something about the personalities merging into one brain in evolution seems to have mellowed Hikari’s out. it’s remarkably personable, for a hydreigon.

lucario: i really wanted to give him a pokemon that learns copycat, and lucario fits that bill. plus, he definitely needed a fighting type.

Cerudelge: formed from bitterness of old cursed armor, but also an extremely skilled sword fighter… one of hikari’s aces.

I also like to imagine that a lot of hikari’s pokemon are quite difficult to deal with (his ceruledge in particular is quite belligerent and mean) but they all have utmost respect for him as a trainer, once they’re on the battlefield. but onlookers sometimes worry… how the hell does he deal with it all?

other notes about some of the picks :

Partitio’s amarouge. Paritio picked up a. charcadet later on, and hikari personally warned him that it might be difficult to deal with. (his charcadet and later ceruledge were super hard to train for him) of course, partitio did end up in possession of the cool nice armor that evolved it into the better mannered and nobler armarouge… but honestly, even his charcadet was far better behaved.

paritio and tressa both get those shitty fish that get cool. must be because they both have an eye for a diamond in the rough.

agnea and throné’s cherrims are best friends. throné rarely got to see her cherrim sunny-form until she left new delsta… she wonders if maybe it was upset about being so nocturnal before, with the blacksnakes.

castti and osvald, team mom and team dad somehow both ended up with slowkings. everyone’s a little concerned about castti’s, though…

after the events of his story, Osvald leaves indeedee and teddiursa with clarissa and elena. the teddiursa and elena in particular take to each other very well… when osvald finally is able to return to elena’s life, the teddiursa is really much more her pokemon.

also. H’aanit and Ochette and far and away the best battlers of both groups. i know i only have them with one flex spot, but you can imagine that they’d swap out a lot more for whatever they need to do to build a good team. they’ve got loads more options than everyone else.

you know that thing about giving someone an applin in galar? therion did trade it over to alfyn at one point. but really they have joint custody of that thing. which definitely ended up as an appletun.

we also had some npc aces sprinkled in there, so here’s some other thoughts, just as bonus!

Malaya: Pawmot (revival blessing), rapidash.

Elena: Abra

Harvey: Hypno, Bacephalon

Pala: Kricketot (formerly belonged to her and agnea’s mom)

Roque: Metagross

Kazan: Husuian Braviary

Ori: Chatot

Trousseau: Glimmora

Cordelia: ….ferrothorn

Erhardt: Aegislash, Hisuian Samurott

Z’aanta: Zamazenta

Juvah: is literally a solgaleo

Darius: Scrafy/Pangoro

Simeon: Malamar

Esmeralda: Mismagius (wanted to give her something with perish song)

Mattias: drifblim? darkrai?

Lucia: Hatterene

Miguel: Grimmsnarl

Werner: spectrier

Mugen: Kingambit. mirror match with Hikari, but mugen’s has supreme overlord while Hikari’s has defiant.

Kaldena: we couldn’t pick but maybe she goes like lusamine mode and fuses with something.

Claude: Cradily. (uh. literally fossil pokemon)

Dolcinea: belive it or not, also an oricorio. also, solrock. but her oricorio is the prettiest.

veronica: she has somehow acquired the worlds first and only female gallade through the power of lesbianism.

Crick: … wooloo….

I do wanna make some drawings for these ideas, but this post was literally already one billion miles long and has way too many images, so it’ll probably be a separate post. thanks for the ask! and sorry for talking so much, but i fucking love making pokemon teams so much it’s insane.

and a big thank you again to my bestie @snailcruncher who helped me with a lot of these picks (and did basically all of the npc picks thank you so much i love you). tysm for pokemon octopath brainrotting with me for like 4 hours.

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

MDZS Notes + Analysis — Chapter Two: “Reincarnation”

Three main things stood out to me when rereading this chapter: the theme of status, our intro to WWX, and the information we’re given about his state after death.

…Well, four things, but the other one will get its own post.

The theme of status is immediately introduced* with ‘MXY’’s treatment and the backstory of MXY and his mother, yet again showing just how well MDZS’s ideas are integrated into the text and how well it’s paced! You’re introduced to every important theme so, so early on. Two screenshots are analysed below:

(See: entitlement of the upper classes towards the lower classes, and how this can exist even between members of the ‘same family’; and arguably the idea of debts between a richer family and someone who was 'taken in'. There are a surprising amount of parallels between MXY and WWX, but I'll make my own post about that)

(See: once again, differences in status between members of the same family, and also the worse, and disposable, treatment of one daughter because she was "the daughter of a servant". Now, why does that phrase sound familiar...?)

Also, MXY's mother was sixteen when she attracted JGS's attention... if you somehow needed even more material to hate the guy...

We also get introduced to WWX’s personality(!), which immediately disproves the rumours from last chapter on how he'd cast the world into ruin:

(That's one of the first questions he asks after waking up – I love how he's so concerned about this! It shows us two important things, too: 1) Morality is important to WWX, and 2) Doing immoral things seems to be out of the ordinary for him. Both of these stand in direct contrast to the picture of WWX we were painted earlier!)

(Same thing here, along with showing us some of the (healthy!) pride WWX has – he wouldn't be offended at this if wasn't something he held as important within himself)

(I use this quote again, but here it's once again proving that the vengeful, evil WWX who'd sink the cultivation world into "nothing but chaos and despair" at the first chance he got... very much does not exist.)

(And finally, it's explicitly confirmed here that he's not the type to take exessive revenge and take pleasure in it... at least at this point in time, because. MXY definitely had reason to think this considering Sunshot!WWX, if everyone had been working from the truth. But importantly that isn't who he is now, and isn't who the WWX villified by the cultivation world was – imo that's including Nightless City, we'll get to that when I reach it. But note that actions during the Sunshot campaign aren't even mentioned in the prologue, because, shock, they actually helped the cultivation world win the war! Though that doesn't mean they weren't part of rumours + the WWX hatred mill later.)

Then some non-morality related things:

This is just really funny to me, with how the makeup being badly applied (:o) is enough of an issue to merit a thought – WWX I love you.

And then this way of thinking comes back a few times esp during the earlier chapters, enough to be noted I think.

Confirmation on WWX's status after he died – it's not anything new to point out, but this chapter does give us rare insights into what state he was in during the post-death, pre-rebirth period.

So, he was somewhat conscious, enough to be aware of what he was(n't) doing – seeking vengeance, haunting the living – and was seemingly in control of those actions. However, he was specifically a "wandering ghost" – his soul didn't pass onto the afterlife or "return back to Earth"** like the body-offering spell's caster's would. He was conscious that a long time had passed as well, and this long period of downtime where he could accept + deal with what happened in his first life is what likely allowed him to be so well-adjusted the second time round – even taking into account the remarkably good way he tends to deal with things in general (cue the "forgetting the wound when the pain fades" quote, it summarises WWX's mindset really well)***.

Also, as for resisting the summons from the prologue – I'm wondering how much was due to WWX's experience with resentful energy + general capability (if that affects it..?) allowing him to consciously refuse, how much was due to WWX not being the type to hold onto resentment (so possibly spells targeting ghosts, full of this resentful energy, wouldn't be as affected?), and how much was due to the relative lack of knowledge about how ghosts/resentful energy works compared to WWX. Or, if it was something else. Either way, achieving the impossible, that's WWX for you :D

It is interesting that he hasn't heard a voice in ages despite wandering, too – do ghosts just not hear the same way, or did he deliberately avoid areas with people? I could see both, the second being more likely, especially considering how many people wanted to summon him back for... less than stellar purposes.

Misc:

Poor Mo Xuanyu....

--

*Well, reinforced – in the prologue, one of the things said about WWX is that "if not for the YunmengJiang clan’s adopting and teaching him, he would have been a hobo living on the streets", which is among the insults people throw. So of course, class-affecting-perception is tied to WWX from the very beginnning! But this is the first time it's actually explored, not a throwaway line.

**Though that may be what's literally happening to WWX's soul here – it is wandering around Earth – I don't think that's what this line refers to. There's a very good meta on how different translations handled that line, I really recommend it (tysm @/mxtxfanatic for finding it)!

***It would be very interesting to read a fic where it felt like no time had passed for him since his death, actually! Though the extremely stressful circumstances are gone, it would still be interesting to see a WWX for whom the Siege, Nightless City, Qiongqi Path etc are pretty recent – but only in fic territory, since I'm so, so glad we got the WWX we did in canon. Also, I'd love to see a fic maybe exploring some of his time as a ghost...?

[thejockout]

Subject Diaries #0.5 - Jockout the Subject, Part 2

(okay this is the last edging post of this series lol)

Last time I discussed my history/beliefs around masculinisation and erotic TF hypnosis, just to give a foundation of how I think about this stuff.

NOW to get into the slightly juicier details; what am I into, and what have I achieved so far with hypnosis?

WELL. What I'm into is an interesting question; and it's changed a lot in the last 2-3 years. If you'd asked me then what I was into, the answer was a fairly limited range of hypnosis: I was into "dumb jock" style brainwashing... and not much else. I didn't do a lot with either sub/dom-coded files, and had yet to discover several of my major kinks! It's kind of weird looking back at how little I used to be into, tbh. But I feel like that's often the way with kinks, they kinda spread over time.

For hypnosis, my current core interests are the following:

Masculinisation - specifically shit like changes in media consumption, physical mannerisms like manspreading or gait, and attitude adjustments. This blurs the line with the next point, but really just covers the whole gamut of a "bro" or "jock" type personality, and is the primary thing I've been into for years.

Dumbing Down - this was a kink I was very on again/off again with for a while before finding my balls and embracing it wholeheartedly. Like many subs, I used to really fear being "Permanently Dumbed Down" and losing skills and traits I need for work/my ambitions. But that's not a realistic fear and not really how hypnosis works, so now I embrace it pretty wholeheartedly. Nothing hotter than coming out of trance unable to spell or think straight. I love seeing the changes in my communication that come from it, and the actual feeling of hypnosis-induced brain fog. (And, being seen as a dumbass is a big kink too, and a nice ongoing goal.) Also included here is the whole subcategory of like, wanting to be malleable and easily hypnotisable, wanting to be someone who drops like a stone and is super impacted by suggestion. I've got some friends who come to mind when I talk about that, and it's always hot to see how easily they sink.

Corruption - this is sort of a broader, underpinning kink to the rest of the stuff I'm into; but it's a desire I have to want to be changed, to have someone coy and sly and sneaky manipulate me into changing in ways most would consider "for the worse." Making me dumber, more single-minded, more narcissistic, more self-indulgent. Fuck, bro. I get off on the idea of someone making me into their personal monster... especially if it goes a little too far from their POV and they can't walk it back. This underpinning desire for corruption is sort of what fuels my love of Dumbing Down and, in recent years, super Dom-coded Toxic Alpha type hypno generally. It's play I think you need to be careful with, but I've been having a good time so far and don't think I'd have ever started making files like Brute if I hadn't gone in that direction myself.

I listen to files outside these three themes, but generally they need to have at least one for me to be into them, and the best tick all three boxes.

I briefly listed a few files I'd listened to a bunch in my previous Diaries post; those being Jack Drago's Masculine Conditioning series, Avis' Sapiens general catalog, and Rigsby's Absolute Jock. I've probably listened to 100s of hours of both the MC-series and Avis' work. My time on Absolute Jock was a looot lower, but tis the best of the old guard of jock files on WarpMyMind. Overall, it's a lot of time to have dedicated to this kinda hypno! So you'd expect to see some results, right?

...Yeeeahhh, well, I'm still kind of a Work In Progress on that front. I have seen results, but I held myself back with anxiety and overthinking (about hypnosis) for years of this, so I've really only started to show change in the last year or so. That being said, the years of repeated conditioning have done a number on me lol.

EFFECTS I'VE SEEN

Successful Media Brainwashing - I did the unthinkable and successfully made myself a sports fan via hypnosis. It's kinda weird. For years I really struggled to even get through a game; then with hypnosis, I gradually started to just get suuper horny when I watched sports instead, which wasn't really any better because I'd just jerk off and lose interest. But sometime in the last two years, I kinda just got into it gradually and now watch for authentic, general interest. This was a real pipe dream at 17 when I envied how all the jock-types in my class could be totally absorbed and single-minded watching or playing a game, but I ended up getting there in the end! Not American so don't watch American Football/basketball/baseball or whatever, but I like rugby/hurling/F1 ✌️I credit this to Jack Drago's work, specifically Files 2 and 4 of the MC series; Manly Media Bubble and Male Oriented Interests.

General Personality Change - this is a WIP suggestion, but it's been interesting seeing myself change over the last 12 months especially. I've become a lot more dominant, confident, cocky, and even self-centered especially in online kink type contexts. IRL, I've just become more dominant and less willing to take shit; but that's only ever a good thing. It's interesting Because the nature of this kind of change, which happens so slowly over time, is that it can be difficult to look back and see the points where you used to behave differently. But sometimes like... especially since doing Douchebag-type files, sometimes I'll criticise someone or make fun of something and get a surprised reaction from a friend who wasn't expecting me to take it that far. And it always makes me feel a little good to surprise them in that way, to violate their expectations of how Nice I should be. I'm always Nice to them, and to anyone decent, but you've really gotta make me WANT to treat you well to get that now. Some people will read this and feel annoyed, or roll their eyes, but I kinda don't care. It's what I'm into. It's what I've GOTTEN into. (It's all Avis' fault really tbh.)

Libido Increase - this was a slow creeping change overtime, but went from getting off maybe 1x a day/5x a week or so to probably getting off 3x a day currently. Got a lot better at thinking with my dick and am super easy to make horny, which helps feed into the next suggestion on the list;

Dumbing Down - this is the suggestion I've had the MOST recent breakthrough with. For the month of January, I listened daily to @hyphyphurray's Muscle Boy file, interspersed with his Happy Horny Himbo and @avissapiens' Intellect Drain. Dumbing Down was always something I'd struggled to conceptualise hypnotically, but I had a perspective shift this month as to what dumbing FEELS LIKE on an ongoing basis. While under some mild post-trance haze, I wrote this snippet about it in preparation for the post a week ago:

(Don't worry, I'll summarise it.)

The tl;dr of that message is that I realised "permanent" dumbing would feel less like brain fog/tipsiness, and more like apathy towards intellectual topics. It's a priority shift, or a behavioural change; not a magic finger plucking facts out of your brain so you forget the answers. It's sort of like it just fucks with your desire to know things/answer questions instead. The information might still be there, if you hunt; but why would you? Who cares, bro? Does it even matter?

Since making that perspective shift, it's like a few years of dumbing has crept in all at once, and it's been super interesting. I'm not going to over dramatise it (I'm desperate NOT to become an RP-type blog with this) because in contexts like writing, schoolwork, etc., I think just as clearly and easily. But in leisure contexts, in hypnosis, just in chatting with bros... I feel that intellectual apathy creep in allll the time. Trying to think of an answer to something and just giving up two seconds in, because "it's easier not to think about it." Trying to remember something and quitting because "if it was that important, I'd have remember." Letting my typos and message flubs sit because "they can figure it out lol" and not over analysing whether everything I say is totally coherent or rich.

I understand the irony of me speaking in huge depth about this here, when what I'm saying is that I'm thinking less. But like I said, it's kinda contextual. If anyone was interested, I'd consider writing a hornier post under the influence of trance sometime so the difference can be seen, but right now... I'm just taking this a little more formally, I guess? Idk, I'm torn between wanting it to be pseudo-educational and also just having made myself horny writing so much about dumbing, and when I'm horny I REALLY feel that haze start to creep in and I kinda wanna just stop this an edge or something and go do anything else that's more fun 🥴

So in the spirit of the post, I'm gonna go do that.

JANUARY WRAP-UP

For the month of January, most of what I listened to were Hyphyphurray's files listed above (the number in green = the number of times I listened to them). They are paid files, but they're well worth the price, and I recommend them to anyone into this shit. I also listened to Avis' Intellect Drain 5-6 times as a supplement because I love how that just makes my brain turn off for a while.

Not sure atm what I'm gonna listen to through February, I've bounced between Muscle Boy and Avis' Toxic Douchebag Alpha a few times so far but will likely commit to one track for the month.

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This is post #2 of my broader Subject Diaries series, a blog series I plan to maintain on a fortnightly/monthly basis updating people on what I've been listening to, files I've been enjoying, and effects I've been experiencing. When I'm not trancing, I'm usually off being a mystical forest bro in the wilderness of Ireland, but I am always available for commissions here on Tumblr/Soundcloud if you reach out via DM. My flat rate is currently $55-80, but you can always check my pinned post for more up-to-date info. You can also support me with a one-time tip either via Paypal or Ko-Fi, but you'll have to DM for the first.