#she also know i’m actively gaining so.

[housecow]

If your friend keeps trying to make you go hiking, she must be hinting at something (.....that she thinks you're getting too fat)

haha no actually, i suggested a 3hr guided hike and she was like “are you sure you can do that?”

we’ve hiked together before and she takes it easy for me even though she’s very fit!! we also mainly do downhill stuff haha, which the hike we have planned is :))

[zytes]

9.16.24 / 9.17.24 - september supermoon

[wincore]

I faked my engagement for free cake samples and got sued after I ran away AIO | haechan

pairing: haechan x baker!reader

genre: comedy, fluff, rivals (?) to lovers (?)

warning(s): quite possibly you will be inflicted with cringe, shameless scamming, mild swearing, one (1) innuendo

words: 5.4k

song recs: santa doesn’t know you like i do by sabrina carpenter, too late for chocolate? by kana hanazawa, like a raspberry by 宇宙ネコ子, honey by kara

a/n: ty to my queens lana and cat for gassing up this dumpster fire i wrote in a caffeine haze while watching my bf die every 20 secs in ds3. the initial plot was going to be far longer and more fleshed out but i fear i'm past my prime ( ._. )" i still hope you guys have fun with this one!! i got to play around with hallmark comedy far more this time, so overall it was a fun time writing <3 happy new year, my lovely mooncakes!!

part of a nonsense christmas: reddit edition collab <3

r/AmITheAsshole

u/YeastMode6969 • 3h

I faked my engagement for free cake samples then got sued after I ran away. AIO?

I (24F, small bakery owner) faked my engagement to get free cake samples at my rival bakery but the employee said I needed my fiance to be there. I panicked and grabbed the first guy to come through the bakery door after me. Turns out he’s not just some random customer. To top it off, he was ridiculously attractive even though he pissed me off every two sentences. I had a panic attack, told myself it’s totally not my fault, and moved on by baking fourteen cakes over the weekend. I thought I got away with it, but three days later, I got an email from him—he’s now suing me for “emotional damages” and “theft of pastries.” Am I doomed, or is this just karma with extra frosting?

⥣ 7.7k ⥥ 2,701 Comments

bun_theory0222 • 2h

INFO: Did you at least try the samples? Were they worth the lawsuit? We’re all dying to know here.

➥ Reply ⥣ 3.2k ⥥

muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h

nah cuz why is he suing when he CLEARLY wants to flirt??? this man is embarrassing but so are you. somebody matched ur freak <3

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.7k ⥥

soggywaffle0205 • 6m

YTA why can’t this shit happen to me. AT LEAST I would commit to the bit.

➥ Reply ⥣ 420 ⥥

cerealfordinner0323 • 2h

Bro sued you just to slide into your life again. He’s not slick, and neither are you. Good luck with that wedding cake.

➥ Reply ⥣ 9,011 ⥥

. . .

If you could hop a few steps to the right, feign unconsciousness, and climb right into the active fireplace, it could potentially make everything okay. For you, that is. Not for the poor bakery employees who would have to call the cops. 

“I’m sure he’s a handsome one!” The girl behind the counter giggles, light pink dusting her cheeks. “You’re- you’re so gorgeous!”

Setting aside the fact that most gorgeous women you know end up with malformed gargoyles, your current predicament is almost equally sinister. What started as an innocuous process to gain free wedding samples (in other words, a scam) has led to a question that should be obvious but completely escaped your mind following your trailing success.

“We’ll need to have you come in with your fiance for the free wedding cake samplers. Is he around?”

Is he around?! Boy, you sure hope so. Because now you’re also frantically looking around with the employee after you blurted out another lie: “He’s going to be here soon!”

When did you turn into a compulsive liar? You’re not sure if your mom would be proud of you for being so good at nabbing free food, or disappointed that you’re a filthy liar. After all, she did tell the buffet employees you were under 10 all the way till you were 14. So, really, you’re not the source of the problem! You brush your festive red skirt of invisible crumbs, trying to busy yourself.

The cafe itself is well decorated for Christmas—a silver reindeer bores holes into your head from by the front door, a small Christmas tree stands at the center that’s a little emaciated but the cute Sanrio ornaments in Santa hats make up for it, and most importantly, a beautiful Mont Blanc cake sparkles from atop the glass counter. (Seriously, why didn’t you think of this? Your own bakery is all sparkles and no play.)

You move out of the way of other customers, and casually glance at the source of your awe and joy. Powdered sugar dusts the top as idyllic snow, covering the sugared cranberries and sugared chestnuts, not dent in them under the white fondant star. The base of the cake is tied with an edible red ribbon, completing the seasonal aesthetic of it. A sigh rests momentarily upon your lips before it escapes. 

You love Mont Blanc cakes, but you never quite get it right. That’s your biggest failure as an up-and-coming baker, and such is the reason for your unhinged serial sampling scam. You swear it started off as a search for inspiration in a creative rut but before you knew it, a lie had spilled from your eclair-sweetened lips, and another, and another. 

It is at this point that you briefly consider bolting for the door. Tibet is great around this time of the year. Maybe if you convert to a monk lifestyle and atone for your sins, you’ll be granted a pardon in the form of delicious sweets. Before you can make your escape, however, the front door jingles, and in strides a sight unbelievably reassuring. A man with caramel hair enters, who might as well be wrapped in a giant red ribbon and seated atop a snow-white horse in golden ornaments.

It’s a Christmas miracle. Hallelujah! They still apply to you.

His smile—soft and sweet as meringue hearts—lights up the room as he inhales the warm, sugary air of the bakery. You’re hit with the vaguest sense of familiarity. He might be one of the few customers you get these days. For a moment, you falter. Are you really going to victimize this stranger?

Yes. Yes, you are. The situation is dire.

“Hi darling!” You exclaim within earshot of the employee, before lowering your voice. “Could you help me out a little here?”

The man blinks, dazed for whatever reason. “Uh… sure?”

“Okay, then follow along and ask questions later,” you reply, and loop your arm through his gingerly. The touch of his fuzzy winter coat makes you relax a little. It is chocolate-colored, with beige fluff around the collar. Not now, you think to yourself, You need to stop thinking about sweets for one goddamn moment.

“Here he is,” you laugh sheepishly as you bring the man forward. Gosh, what in the heavens are you doing? You didn’t even ask his name. 

The employee stares, jaw agape. What’s with the reaction? He’s not that hot. 

“O-oh,” she responds. “That’s quite the surprise. I never knew. Congratulations, sir!”

You turn to look at him. He simply scratches his chin with a sheepish smile, and manages to respond with a “Thanks, Kimi.”

He must be a regular, you think. Oh, (Name), what did you get yourself into? You’re just gonna have to read his name off his coffee order first.

“We have a selection of samples for our wedding cake choices,” the girl, Kimi, moves to the far side of the counter, offering a small menu card to the two of you. “I know you’re not a big fan of wedding cakes, Mr. Lee, but the latest tiramisu flavors should suit your tastes, no?”

Just how close are they?! You chew on your lip and try to calm your depraved little heart.

“Well,” he responds, thinking for a second, “I actually hadn’t thought this far. What do you think, honey?”

He turns to you with a radiant smile, but you sense a hint of mischief. You don’t have time to think of that though—so you just change the topic. 

“Actually, do you have a Mont Blanc flavor? I’ve always had trouble perfecting it myself.”

Truth be told, that ‘honey’ had flowed from his lips and struck you straight in the heart. He’s not too bad to look at, you think now. His tousled hair catches the light with a playful sheen, framing his face and accentuating his disbelieving smile, while his fluffy coat adds a cozy touch to his charming, boyish demeanor. If you were to overthink a little, you’d find a hint of mischief in his voice. Alas, you’re a simple girl who only overthinks sweet treats, not boys.

“You bake?” He blurts, before his ears turn red from realization.

Kimi shoots him a puzzled look and your breath hitches in your throat. Was the miracle an idiot in disguise?

“I mean, uh, gosh, you make me so nervous, honey.” He looks like he’s trying his very best to ace an exam he never studied for. “I meant to ask if you're going to bake.. today? Don’t look at me like that.” 

Maybe you should’ve picked a candied apple and prayed that a witch had poisoned it. You can’t even force out a smile at that pathetic save.

“You’re a lucky man, Mister,” Kimi jabs, a look of distrust in her eyes before they flash to you. “I’m afraid Miss (Name) in a wedding dress would make me drop dead at the altar.”

“Oh, you- you flatter me,” you choke out, “I promise you wedding gowns aren’t my thing at all. Besides, you’d look beautiful in white yourself.”

Why is she so into this wedding conversation? How close are these two? You’re not sure how to react, and neither do you know how this man is going to explain your mysterious disappearance the next time he visits the bakery. You’re sure as hell not going to continue the act beyond this. It’s time you retired from this scam business. You’re not even sure how you’ll talk your way out of this with the man, currently engaged in small talk with Kimi. 

And— is he blushing?! Does he have something going on with the girl—Kimi? Did you just ruin something? Your heart tightens a little, and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to the floor, head in your hands.

You laugh awkwardly, trying to diffuse the situation. When you open your mouth, you are interrupted.

“Actually, Miss, I think I take back what I said about the handsome part,” Kimi jokes, evident disdain sent towards Donghyuck.

Your natural response is a little laugh that leaves before you know it. Maybe, the feelings you sensed were of unrequited resentment. He does have the kind of face that looks like it’s often smacked by girls. No offense to him.

Kimi hands you the first sample (two delicious slices of Mont Blanc) and excuses herself to fetch the rest. The two of you make your way to a booth with the heaviest silence you’ve ever experienced. You might as well be at a funeral.

“So… free samples are that good, huh?” The man asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Shut up,” you mutter. 

“I’m Donghyuck, by the way,” he responds with a youthful laugh. “Might I have the honor of knowing my fiance's name?”

“(Name). And stop looking at me like that.”

He lets out a short breath.

“You know, maybe we should’ve pretended it was an arranged marriage.”

“Quite proficient in the scamming business, are you?”

“Oh, you’re better off not knowing my dirty secrets.”

You couldn’t care less about his secrets but the look you shoot at him is certainly dirty.

He opens his mouth but you interrupt him to absolve yourself first. “Listen, I don’t do this often. And I’ll have you know it’s nothing personal. Well, not against you. The owner of this place maybe.”

Donghyuck blinks. “Oh? Do tell. I’m all for being a hater with my fiance.”

You stare at him, not impressed.

“Sorry.”

“Okay, so this started a month or two ago. I had been working tirelessly, testing recipe after recipe, trying to perfect the Mont Blanc cake. It was my dream to make it iconic, you know? But before I could even settle on the perfect combination of flavors, some smug bastard opens a bakery right across from me. And what does he have as his specialty? Why, the Mont Blanc cake of course. Seasonal! Cute, elaborate new decor every two weeks! Just how rich is he? I bet he doesn't even bother to create his own recipes. This guy didn’t just steal my idea, he’s turned my passion into some overpriced, generic trend!”

You heave, tired from the onslaught of frustration. Chewing on your lower lip, a pout naturally makes its way onto your face, and so do more complaints. 

“And that’s not all, okay? I never see him at the bakery. I refrain from entering my competitors' establishments unless I greet them in person. But this asshole is just never there! What, is he too good to work at his own bakery? Too good to grace us lowly bakers with a visit? How could he just swoop in and steal my signature item?”

Donghyuck listens to your rant with intent, cheek resting against his palm. He even looks a little ridiculously charmed right now. 

“Wait… so you’re the infamous Free Cake Phantom everyone’s talking about?” He gasps.

You’ve finally turned to your poor, neglected Mont Blanc sample, just for your heart to jump out. “What?”

“Just kidding. Your secret is safe,” he says, digging into the cake with infuriating nonchalance. “But hey, you’ve got good taste. This Mont Blanc though? It’s my personal recipe.”

Your fork halts halfway to your mouth. “Your recipe? What, you work here or something? And, no offense, but it’s overwhipped.”

If that’s a joke, it’s not very funny. The man looks more like a confectionary than a confectioner. There’s no way he works here. He’s probably some jobless guy drifting from bakery to bakery on early Saturday mornings.

His jaw drops. “Overwhipped? Are you kidding me?”

You wave the fork at him like it’s a weapon. “Chestnut puree shouldn’t have the texture of mousse. It’s called finesse, Mr. Lee.”

Before he can respond, Kimi returns with another tray, and you slip back into character, placing your hand on Donghyuck’s. “Thank you,” you coo at her. “I can’t wait to share all these flavors at our wedding.”

Donghyuck stiffens slightly at the unexpected contact, but he recovers quickly, plastering on the fakest grin known to man. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Kimi laughs. “You’re such a lovely couple. When’s the big day?”

You freeze, and so does Donghyuck. For a moment, neither of you has an answer.

“Oh, we’re still, uh, deciding,” you blurt, glancing at him for backup.

“Yeah, we’re thinking spring,” he adds smoothly. “Cherry blossoms. Very romantic.”

“Y-yes. Maybe the Raspberry Rose should be in the winner’s spot then.”

As Kimi bows politely and walks away again, Donghyuck leans in to whisper. “Should I book the honeymoon now, or…?”

“Don’t push your luck,” you hiss, elbowing him in the ribs. 

He makes a pained sound, but recovers quickly. 

The second flavor is dubbed “Marble Eclipse”, a decadent blend of rich chocolate and vanilla, perfectly balanced with a luscious buttercream frosting. You try to focus on the taste, but Donghyuck’s smug grin as he watches you take a bite is more distracting than you’d like to admit. You’re not easily flustered, not by men. Unfortunately, he would have been the exact type you’d have tried to nab in college.

You shake your head. Focus, (Name), you think to yourself, You’re in the enemy’s lair right now!

“So… I might as well come clean,” Donghyuck says with a serious tone, right after you’ve taken a bite. You pause in horror. What arcane knowledge is he going to use for your humiliation this time?

“I visit your bakery often, and I must say your selection is just as good, if not better.”

You exhale.

“Oh, it’s better alright,” you retort, before realizing the unwarranted passion in your voice. You compose yourself. “I mean, maybe their Mont Blanc is… a solid competitor.”

Donghyuck laughs, clearly amused by the bashfulness on your face.

“Wait, are you patronizing me?”

“Of course not!” He places his hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“I think the difference is that this one keeps up with the youth.” He waves his fork about, explaining his point further. “Everyone loves new, shiny things. Cycle those as much as possible. Have you ever considered holding blind box events with your cupcakes? I’m sure the kids would love to find out which flavor of panda bear cupcake they got—matcha, my personal favorite, or coconut cream, or… god forbid, chocolate mint. Ugh. Have you considered removing that from the menu? Anyway, that shouldn’t take too much time and money, right?”

The youth? What is he, forty? However, however, the look on his face as he describes your own baked goods to you is enough to make you intensely flustered. Has this man visited so often? And you never noticed him? How could you miss that easy-going smile?

A familiar figure saves you from whatever awkward, garbled response you were going to muster.

Despite Kimi’s arrival, Donghyuck has a hard time taking his eyes off you. Lashes swaying with each flicker of his eyes over your face, he’s hardly taking a bit of the delicious marble cake, in fact. What, have you got something on your face?

Kimi apologizes profusely before you can say anything to greet her. 

“There’s only one slice prepared for the Tiramisu Dream sample,” she explains. “I’m so sorry about this. Would you mind sharing this one? I apologize again.”

“No worries, Kimi,” Donghyuck responds, laughing a little. You shake your head and reassure it’s alright too. 

Anyway, that slice is going to be yours. You’re ready to pry it from his cold, dead hands.  

To your surprise, though, he shoots a friendly smile at you. 

“Want the first bite?”

“May I?” You ask, just to be sure.

“By all means,” he says, gesturing grandly. “After all, what’s mine is yours, fiance.”

You swear, if he calls you that one more time, he’s going to end up in the cake display.

Kimi stares at the two of you blankly for a moment. It instantly flusters you and Donghyuck both, so much so that the idiot digs his fork into the cake slice and holds it up to your lips with a soft ‘ah’ —and so much so that you actually accept it graciously. 

And all that only for Kimi to not even notice as she excused her way back to the counter. So now you’re just two idiots deep in your romantic charades. Donghyuck clears his throat, too late to cover his coral-tinted cheeks and ears. You’re certain you wear a similar expression.

“You’re- you’re so weird,” you jab, unable to come up with an insult higher than middle school grade. 

“What, you wanted me to do airplanes too?!”

“Take that fork and drive it through your tongue, will you?”

“Woah, woah, no need for violence, Miss (Name). Peace and Love.”

Unexpectedly, it makes you break character into unbound laughter. The weariness of the act and the silliness of the whole situation leaks into the sound, and it’s enough to make Donghyuck join in. For passersby, you are just a couple already past your third, fifth and seventh dates.

“Any comments for the tiramisu cake?” Donghyuck asks, grinning ear to ear.

You catch your breath, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. “Yeah, I have a comment: who puts this much cocoa powder on top? Are you trying to choke your customers?”

“Awh, and I thought you were gonna be nice,” he whines, “Your smile is just so… inviting.”

As if on cue, he chokes on the cocoa powder. 

“I still like it,” you continue. “I’d just do it better.”

“I have the utmost confidence in that.”

Gosh, his smile is nauseating—too bright, too easy, like he’s actually enjoying this. Maybe he’s a rising actor, and you’re the one being hoodwinked. After all, who looks at someone like that on a first meeting?

A moment passes, and suddenly his thumb is at the corner of your lips, brushing off the cocoa powder with a touch so casual it feels anything but. “Got it,” he murmurs, and the air between you shifts, warm and oddly heavy.

“So, how do you know all this?” you ask, changing the topic. You’re forcing yourself to focus, to breathe. 

He leans back, a small laugh slipping out like he’s grateful for the lifeline. “You- uh- you could say I’m a connoisseur of pastries,” he offers, his voice lighter now. “I like to sample the best around town—just, you know, legally. I even take notes of my favorites.”

He gestures towards you, and you scoff.

The words settle between you as you toy with the edge of your skirt, smoothing the fabric down over your lap. There’s something about the way he speaks—so casual, so effortless—that needles at you. For a man so annoyingly confident, he sure seems relieved to have redirected the conversation.

Your hand grazes the tiny snowman buttons on your cardigan, tracing the cold plastic absentmindedly. His gaze flickers to the movement, then back to your face, a smile tugging at his lips like he’s trying not to laugh. You don’t know what’s more embarrassing—getting outed as the Cake Thief or the fact that he’s bound to know he flusters you.

You tilt your head, giving him a skeptical look. “How professional of you.”

The bite in your tone is softening, and you don’t like it one bit.

He holds up his hands, feigning surrender. “Hey, it’s an art. Someone’s gotta appreciate it, right?”

The faint chatter of other patrons fills the room, but his presence sharpens the moment, making it feel like it’s just the two of you. For a fleeting second, you catch yourself wondering what kind of person would take notes on pastries for fun. It’s so bizarrely specific, so utterly unnecessary—and yet, so like him.

His smile deepens, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he teases.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no stopping the traitorous grin threatening to break through. You refuse to indulge him, even as you feel the faintest crack in your defenses.

"Maybe,” you say, finally.

He chuckles, the sound warm and genuine, before leaning back against his chair with a satisfied air, as if he’s won something. You glance at the tray, willing yourself to focus on anything else.

How awkward. How warm. 

You spot a napkin fluttering off the table, carried by a sudden draft from the door. Instinctively, you step out of your chair to grab it, but Donghyuck beats you to it, scooping it up with an exaggerated flourish and a bow.

“Your knight in shining armor,” he declares dramatically, holding it out like a trophy.

“More like my nuisance in sugar-stained armor,” you retort, snatching it from his hand.

He laughs, unabashed. “Ah, so sharp. Yet here you are, sharing cake with said nuisance. Life is full of mysteries.”

“I’m just here for the cake,” you deadpan, dusting your hands off.

For a second, his smile falters—not in hurt but in sheer disbelief. He tilts his head, studying you with an incredulous expression, and you suddenly feel like a frog under a magnifying glass.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he says, almost to himself, his voice low but still playful.

“Get what?” you ask, genuinely confused.

Donghyuck presses his lips together, fighting back a grin. He steps closer, leaning in just enough for you to catch the faint scent of chestnut cream. “I mean, I could spell it out for you, but that might ruin the fun.”

“Spell what out?” you press, a little flustered now.

He straightens with a laugh, shaking his head. “Nothing, you airhead. Absolutely nothing. Is your head full of cotton candy, by any chance?”

You narrow your eyes at him, but before you can respond, he’s already pulling his chair back, resuming his seat with a sigh.

“Mont Blanc, Marble Eclipse, and Tiramisu on the first date,” he states, deep in thought. “Maybe Matcha Lemon, Lavender Peach, and White Chocolate on the second… Perhaps a Red Velvet and a Strawberry Shortcake before you realize I literally own this place?”

You feel the heat intensify on your cheeks. You almost miss the last part, clouded by the implications of the rest of his words. He… wants to go on more dates with you? Was this a date all along? You’ve been swindled into having fun with a man somehow. He even knows the ins and outs of a baker’s life. And he’s charming in an oddball sort of way. You shouldn’t be feeling solidarity with this weirdo. But then again, somehow, his laugh is very… endearing. 

Wait a minute.

“You- you really own the place?!” A scream dies in your throat.

Donghyuck looks positively taken aback. “So you actually weren’t aware?!”

“What do you mean? How the hell am I supposed to know?! You described yourself as a connoisseur of pastries. I thought you were some kind of freelance failure so I didn’t pry!”

“Excuse me?!”

“Well, either that or you’re unbelievably rich. But then you don’t look it. Your sleeves have flour and oil stains on them, and your shoes are all dusty too, and there’s gold flakes in your hair—okay, how did I miss this?”

“Geez, way to judge someone by their looks. I’m not taking that from the local tart snatcher.”

The retort barely registers because your brain is too busy replaying the words “I own this place.” The realization hits, and before you can think better of it, the chair screeches back as you bolt upright.

“Wait, where are you—” Donghyuck’s voice is cut off by your shrill, mortified “Bye!” as you make a beeline for the door, leaving behind a very startled staff and a half-empty tray of cakes. Immediately after your exit, you let out a shriek. 

What the hell are you doing?!

Your face burns as you speed-walk down the street, each step punctuated by the memory of your impulsive retreat. You must have cast your senses away at that moment, like some wide-eyed fool in a fairy tale, almost charmed by that silly man and his absurd little quirks. It’s not your fault, of course—it’s his, with his flour-dusted sleeves, that stupidly endearing laugh, and the way he talked about pastries like they were a love language. What was wrong with him?! you think, conveniently ignoring the fact that it was your awkwardness and runaway theatrics that had caused the scene. You’d blame it on sugar overload if it weren’t for the nagging realization that maybe—just maybe—he’d gotten under your skin, and the fact that you deserved it.

. . .

You hadn’t expected to hear from him again. Not after your embarrassing getaway. But three days later, you’re staring at an email with the subject line: "Notice of Legal Action for Unauthorized Sampling."

You open it with trembling fingers, only to find what can only be described as the world’s most dramatic—and definitely fake—lawsuit. 

Your jaw drops as you scroll through the email. He’d even attached a fake case number: #CAKE-404-NO-FUN.

The body of the email was littered with ridiculous legalese. Phrases like "egregious acts of confectionery negligence" and "failure to properly appreciate artisanal craftsmanship" were scattered between absurdly specific accusations.

There is a diagram. An actual diagram. Arrows pointing to "Exhibit A" (the Mont Blanc) and "Exhibit B" (the empty spot on the tray), annotated with notes like "victim of hasty consumption" and "left to fend for itself."

And then, at the very bottom, there it was—the pièce de résistance:

“This suit may be settled by one (1) heartfelt apology and one (1) coffee date at the aforementioned bakery. Should you require legal counsel, I suggest bringing your A-game. I am, after all, a connoisseur of arguments… and pastries. 😉”

You groan, head thunking against the back of your chair. The audacity. The drama. The fuckass emojis. 

This man is getting to you.

Your first reaction is, of course, panic. Your second? Rage. And by the time you storm into the bakery at ass o’clock before it even opens, Donghyuck is waiting for you, leaning against the counter like he owns the place. (Which he does, actually.)

He’s propped on his elbows, his posture easy and unhurried, as if he’s been expecting you. The black apron around his waist is slightly askew, and his beige T-shirt bears faint streaks of flour across the chest, a testament to an already busy morning. His fluffy brown hair is an artful mess, the kind that looks unintentional but infuriatingly perfect, with a few errant strands curling over his forehead. There’s a streak of something golden—sugar, maybe?—on his cheek, catching the light as he tilts his head to regard you with an expression that’s equal parts curious and smug.

“You’re early,” he remarks, his voice low and teasing, as though he isn’t the root of all evil.

“You think this is funny?” you demand, shoving your phone in his face.

Donghyuck grins, unbothered. “Hilarious, actually. Did it get your attention?”

“You can’t just send someone a fake legal notice!”

“Worked, didn’t it?” He shrugs, leaning back with infuriating calmness. “Besides, you owed me an explanation for your Houdini act. You know, poor Kimi had to clear your tray. She almost cried.”

“She did not!”

As if on cue, Kimi pokes her head out of the kitchen. “Oh, she absolutely did. It was tragic,” she deadpans before ducking back in.

You groan, feeling your cheeks grow hotter by the second. “You’re unbelievable.”

Donghyuck leans back, smug as ever, and gestures to the email still open on your phone. “Unbelievable or resourceful? Let’s review: I sent a single, harmless message—full of creativity and wit, I might add—and look where we are.”

“At me wanting to strangle you?”

“At you running right to me,” he corrects, his grin widening. “What, were you worried?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you snap. “I’m here because—” 

You stop, realizing you don’t have a decent answer. “I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of thinking I took you seriously.”

“Oh, you absolutely took me seriously.” He nods sagely. “I saw the panic in your eyes. Admit it: for a second, you thought you were going to have to pay me a hundred grand or grovel at my feet.”

“I- ugh- fuck you!” is all you can muster, stepping forward without thinking.

He mirrors your movement, the space between you shrinking by degrees. 

“But seriously, you ghosted me, and I had to get creative. What the hell was I supposed to do? I figured the legal drama might get my point across.”

“What point?”

“That I wanted to see you again.” The words come out so easily, so matter-of-fact, you don’t know how to respond. When you finally glance up, he’s watching you closely, his expression uncharacteristically sincere.

“Just because you’re all cute and covered in flour like the star of some indie chef movie doesn’t mean you get to toy with me.”

“Ha! You’re presumptuous—despite all the fine details on me you seem to observe.” He leans in. “But guess what, I’m a greedy bastard that loves attention. So, look closer.”

And you look anywhere but his lips, too pink and too plush, as your face grows hotter than a convection oven on broil.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you manage, staring resolutely at the display of cakes. “That hardly counts as details.”

“Details,” he echoes, his grin growing wider. “Like the way I look at you?”

“You’re just a flirt,” you mutter.

He gasps, mock-offended, and gestures dramatically to the kitchen. “Kimi, did you hear that? I’m just a flirt!”

“You said it, not me,” Kimi calls back without missing a beat.

You laugh despite yourself, the sound surprising you. And Donghyuck doesn’t miss it. His gaze softens, the teasing edge in his voice dropping slightly. “There it is. I knew you could laugh without running away.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late.”

For a moment, the air shifts, the humor giving way to something quieter. Donghyuck’s gaze lingers—not on your awkward posture or flushed cheeks, but on you, as though trying to piece together something he doesn’t quite understand.

“What?” you finally ask, defensive.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, but there’s a small, genuine smile now. “Just... you’re such a fidgety person.”

“Are you trying to shell out an insult?”

“No, I mean, I always see you scuttling here and there. Always on the move. Always observing, but never stopping long enough to be seen. You just… don’t seem like someone who takes much time for yourself.”

You blink, caught off guard. He tilts his head, like he’s trying to figure out if he’s crossed a line.

“I’m wrong?” he asks, almost sheepishly.

“I—” You pause, unsure of how to respond. “You’re nosy, that’s what you are.”

“That’s a yes,” he decides, grinning again.

Donghyuck chuckles, leaning just a little closer, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours. “Tell you what,” he says, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I’ll prove I’m not just nosy. Let me take you out. Somewhere you don’t have to bolt out the door halfway through.”

“You think I’d agree to that?” you retort, though your words lack bite. The proximity is doing something to your brain, and you’re acutely aware of how close he’s leaned in.

His grin is confident and infuriating. “I think you’d be curious enough to say yes.”

Your breath hitches as you realize how little space is left between the two of you, your noses almost brushing. “Woah,” you whisper, trying to play it off, “my mommy warned me about boys like you. All up close and personal with flour in their hair.”

He raises a brow, unrepentant. “Smart woman. But she didn’t tell you we’re pretty good at first dates, did she?”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes, soft but genuine. “Fine,” you say, straightening up and taking a step back before your pulse betrays you further. “But you’re paying. And no weird cakes this time.”

“Deal,” he replies, his smile softer now, more sincere.

And for a moment, you believe it—not just the act, not just the cakes and the banter, but the idea that maybe, somehow, this strange, sugar-dusted series of events has led to something real.

. . .

r/AmITheAsshole

u/YeastMode6969 • 16h

UPDATE: I faked my engagement for free cake samples then got sued after I ran away. AIO?

Fine, you guys were right. We’re dating now. Let’s just say we’ve been filling my cream puffs lately  🫠

Edit: I also got the Mont Blanc recipe!!

⥣ 7.7k ⥥ 3,297 Comments

kimikakes • 13h

KIMI HERE, REPORTING LIVE FROM THE SCENE: they literally argued over frosting consistency for half an hour yesterday. This relationship is built on chaos and croissants.

➥ Reply ⥣ 7.1k ⥥

bun_theory0222 • 2h

Hellooo where are the recipes. Priorities, OP :/

➥ Reply ⥣ 4.1k ⥥

lil_sugar_daddy0813 • 1h

man i was betting on donghyuck dying alone i dont wanna lose my $20

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.3k ⥥

muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h Give me your money NYEOW ➥ Reply ⥣ 1.7k ⥥

soggywaffle0205 • 6m why are you suddenly a furry ➥ Reply ⥣ 1.1k ⥥

muffinbutdrama1122 • 1h pays the bills ➥ Reply ⥣ 2.7k ⥥

[dear-aubade]

Hello, i really like everything you write about Joel, i am so in love with him😭💕

-

What if reader has been having some insecurities lately and Joel fcks her in front of a mirror, worshipping her and telling her how beautiful she is🎀💖

Here you go anon, hope you like it!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You start pulling away from Joel because you’re having doubts about yourself. Joel decides to do something about it.

Notes: smut, p in v, Joel pulls out, praise, body worship, reader has body dysmorphia, reader has insecurities, soft!Joel, dom!Joel, sub!reader, mirror sex

A/n: Yes, I put a Pride and Prejudice reference in there (iykyk 😘)

“Give yourself a compliment.”

The past few weeks, you had been having some…doubts, to say the least. Before, it had been just you and Joel fending for yourselves out in the woods, traveling West. Just you and Joel against the world.

Then you found Jackson.

Oh, what a haven it was. Even if Joel’s brother hadn’t been here, even if you knew nobody in town, you still would have convinced Joel to stay. They had hot water, heating, and goddamn coffee of all things? Yeah. You guys were sticking around.

Not only were you able to shower once a day, but your diet had also changed drastically. Instead of only eating a couple sticks of jerky and some crackers for dinner each day, you had the luxury of consuming steamed broccoli, roast pork, and such excellent boiled potatoes—it had been many years since you’d had such an exemplary vegetable. Now you always went to bed with a full belly.

The diet change was reflected in the way you looked. You could no longer see your ribs through your skin, and your thigh gap was gone. Your eyes looked less sunken, your cheekbones less protruding. Your hips were a little rounder, your tummy a little softer. And you knew that it was a good thing, that it meant you were getting over the malnourishment and becoming healthy again, that you were at a perfectly normal weight for your height—you knew that.

But a small part of your brain whispered otherwise. It didn’t matter if it was healthy or not, it didn’t matter if you had looked like a walking skeleton before, you were getting bigger. You started to wonder if it was getting harder for Joel to lift you during your activities in the bedroom. You started to wonder if he didn’t know what to do with each pound you gained, if he preferred you when you were smaller and lighter, even if you had only been skin and bones.

And so you started to pull away.

You still pleasured Joel, of course. You’d wake him up with your mouth on him, or kiss him while grinding on his bulge. But each time he tried to pull at your clothes to return the favor you’d shake your head and give him some lame excuse like I’m tired, or I promised Maria I’d go help her organize the inventory lists.

Eventually Joel had had enough. He sat you down and kept pushing and pushing, trying to know what was the matter. And oh…his callused hands cupping your face had been so gentle. His eyes had been so soft. You had confessed everything then and there through your tears.

Which brought you to now.

You were in the bathroom in just your bra and panties with Joel standing behind you, one hand gently lingering on the small of your back as you both faced the mirror.

“Give yourself a compliment,” Joel repeated.

Your brow creased and you shook your head. “I can’t,” you whispered.

Joel met your gaze in the mirror. “Come on, sweetheart. You—”

You shook your head again, tears blooming in your eyes.

Joel stood there for a few moments, his hand still stroking over the small of your back. Soon he spoke. “Well, I’ll start, then,” he said, his voice tender. “That alright with you, darlin’?”

He didn’t give you time to reply. He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed an achingly soft kiss to the back of it. “I love your hands,” he whispered. “Look at ‘em—so small, so soft. I like it when you use ‘em to run through my hair, or when I hold your hand as we walk through town.”

He moved his hand up to gently hold your chin. “And your face—my gorgeous girl. And those eyes… I love when you let me hold your cheek as I kiss those soft lips…”

Joel kissed the sensitive patch of skin beneath your jaw and your breath hitched. You could feel his smile against you as he moved down, kissing along your neck to your shoulder. His hands went to your hips and squeezed.

You hesitated, doubt filling you. “Joel—”

“Ah, I’m not done yet.” He kneaded at the softness on your hips and thighs. “Oh…I love this piece of you, honey…grabbin’ onto these hips every time I wanna tell everyone you’re mine, or when I’m drivin’ into you in the bedroom.”

Your breath caught at that, cheeks flushing the same color as the strawberries that Maria was starting to grow for the town.

Joel chuckled and before you knew it your bra was unhooked and tossed across the room, but that didn’t matter because the moment it was gone Joel’s hands were there. You gasped again as he started to gently squeeze, thumbs flicking over the peaks.

“And these,” he went on, voice dropping lower. “You’re so soft, babygirl, ‘specially these pretty tits. Just wanna kiss ‘em and bite ‘em all day every day.” He pinched one of your nipples and you whimpered. You could feel his bulge pressing into you from behind.

One of his hands stayed working on your breast as the other flattened and smoothed down the front of your torso. “And this pretty tummy…makes me so happy to see you like this, baby. Full of food every night. It means I’m doin’ my job providin’ for you.”

Joel’s relentless touching was really getting to you. You were damp between your legs by now surely.

“And here…” Joel slid his hand past the waistband of your panties and you whimpered as his fingers stroked along your wetness. He let out a breath that was nearly a groan. “I love feelin’ you here, sweetheart. Feelin’ you clench around me as you finish, gettin’ that hazy look in your eyes…”

He pushed two fingers into you and you whined, arching your back against him. “Joel—”

“Shh,” he whispered. He mouthed at your neck and curled his fingers to stroke along your front wall. “Look at you, darlin’.” When you were nice and ready, he retracted his fingers. You whimpered at the loss, but it soon turned into a gasp as he unzipped his pants and pushed his length into you.

You let out a soft moan and closed your eyes at the feeling. Oh…he was so big, so—

He nipped at your neck and your eyes flicked open with a gasp. “Eyes on yourself, pretty girl. Want you to see how gorgeous you are takin’ me.”

At that, hesitation won over arousal for a split second. “Joel, I don’t…”

He kissed the part of your neck he bit, his affection so tender it made your heart swell. “You trust me?”

You nodded.

“You can do this, baby. Watch. I’m gonna take care of you.”

You bit your lip, then nodded again.

Joel grinned. “Good girl,” he cooed. “Put your hands on the counter.”

You did as he asked. The white porcelain was cold against your palms, but one of Joel’s big hands came to rest atop one of yours. The other grabbed your hip.

Then he started to move.

You let out a moan as he dragged along your walls. It had been so long since you both had done this and he was filling you so well, making it hard to breath, hard to see, hard to think…

“Eyes open, baby.”

They had closed in your feeling of ecstasy and you hastily snapped them open. Sex with Joel was always erotic, but actually watching it happen in the mirror like this…

He reached down to thumb at your clit and you let out a soft whine. Joel chuckled. “Needy girl,” he murmured. He let out a groan into your neck. “So warm, darlin’.”

Joel thrust into you deeper and put a hand on your stomach. “Another thing I love,” he whispered, “is when I make it so you can feel me all the way up in this pretty tummy.”

You mewled at that. There was a white-hot fire in your lower belly and it ached and you didn’t know if you wanted the fans flamed or extinguished or—

“Look how pretty my babygirl looks when she’s takin’ me,” Joel murmured.

Your eyes were half-lidded in the mirror, breasts moving with every thrust up into you. There was a flush around your cheekbones and nose and your lips were softly parted as Joel took you.

“Mmm.”

“Oh?” Joel kept rubbing circles into your clit as your hips squirmed. “Was that an agreement, sweet girl?”

You hesitated. Your mind was too blissed out to think clearly. “I—“

“Does my pretty baby see how I see her now?” A particularly well-placed thrust from Joel had you keening. “How beautiful she is?”

You whined and rocked back against him. Something was building inside you, a tight coil right between your legs, and it was too hot, too hot, and you…you needed…

“Fall apart for me, sweetheart,” Joel breathed.

You did. You let out a high-pitched moan and your walls clenched around Joel’s length, causing him to grunt. Your head swam. Your vision fuzzed. You barely even registered Joel pulling out and his spend landing on the back of your thigh.

Your legs shook and you let out a pathetic whine. Joel was quick to scoop you into his arms. “I gotcha, babygirl,” he whispered, kissing your cheek as he carried you to the bedroom. “Gotta lay on your tummy so I can clean you up, yeah?”

You nodded and let him place you on the bed face down. Your entire body felt like it was melting.

Joel left for the bathroom and soon returned with a warm washcloth to gently wipe between your legs and at his spend on the back of your thigh. When he was done he took you into his arms.

Chest to chest, he smiled down at you and pushed hair back from your face. “Hi pretty girl.”

You smiled back. “Hi,” you whispered.

His thumb caressed your cheekbone for a moment. “I know your feelings about yourself aren’t going to disappear overnight and that’s okay, but…you think you can give yourself a compliment now?”

You blushed, then nodded. “I like it when you make my cheeks flush.” Your voice was small, shy.

“Yeah?” Joel’s eyes sparkled. “How come?”

“Because I think I…” You swallowed. “I think I look pretty like that.”

Joel grinned. “Yes you do, baby.” He held you close. “Yes…you most definitely do.”

[ohbabydollie]

omg heyy 🤭 ive only just found your blog but i absolutely adore your writing!! could i please request some housewife headcanons? ty <3

my ideal career is housewife but i js need to marry schlatt so i don’t have to worry abt money first 😔

taking care of him during streams!

bringing in water, food, anything he needs

he takes that chance to show you off to his stream, shower you in compliments before you head out of his office

he will literally take any chance he can to rub it into anyone’s face

“what am i eatin right now? it’s just some soup my WIFE made me, it’s whatever, she does it all the time” he says with a cocky grin

he loves home cooked meals and will asks for seconds constantly

he gets a taste for your cooking (and baking) to the point he doesn’t enjoy eating out as much

he loves that you basically can be around him 24/7 since he works from home and you don’t have a job

if he ever tries cooking for a stream, he’s struggling so hard

he gains so much respect for you if you make almost everything by scratch

if you take up a little hobby like baking or pottery or gardening

he.fucking.loves.it.

he shows off anything and everything you make

drinks from mugs you make, eats whatever you baked or grew and makes a point to tell everyone

“well ted, while you’re eatin’ your nasty ass rap snacks, i’ll be eating this” he says smiling and holding up a bowl of strawberries, “delicious, home grown, organic, non-micro plastic, strawberries, that my wife grew” he says with a satisfied smile “not to mention she also made the bowl, it’s bpa free”

hes literally such a dick to everyone about how he’s married to you

“i’m havin’ chicken n dumplins for dinner, they’re HOMEMADE by the way, not the nasty trader joe’s shit you gotta eat” schlatt says to ted with a grin “m’ wife is makin it all from scratch”

he says you “balance him out” with how sweet and soft you are

makes tradwife jokes all the time

he also likes making jokes about other people wanting you and actively brags about it

“we were a beach the other day and i saw men eyein her up, didn’t even care ‘cause i was the guy rubbin tannin oil on her back”

he loves buying you pretty new clothes, jewelry, makeup, etc.

he pays for you to get your hair, nails, etc. done

loves doing little things with you from grocery shopping to wasting time at a retail store

he says the cats got into something on stream and always comes back with light lipstick marks on his lips and face

looks for any excuse to kiss and touch you on camera

flirts with you even when you’ve been married for years

he only has eyes for you as you do him and every one knows

everyone can tell that even with the jokes he makes he loves you so much

[lace-coffin]

Slasher kinks headcanons

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Minors DNI

Slashers x gender neutral! reader

Trigger warnings : consensual non consent (cnc), blood, degradation/humiliation, kidnapping? (Only for Asa)

Kinks: general rough sex, bdsm dynamics, daddy/mommy kink, humiliation/degradation, knife play, primal/prey & predator play, praise, sex whilst ovulating/on period, medical play, topping from the bottom, anal, face fucking, face slapping, spanking/punishment, breeding, knotting, hucow kink, phone sex, the list goes on

did anyone request this? No. Am I going to make u all look at it bc I’m a horndog? Absolutely

I will be writing a top/bottom section for every slasher! No gentials will be mentioned for reader (hole is used to be neutral) but strap/cock will be used in relation to the reader topping.

Michael will also have an extra t4t section for my friend bc there isn’t enough t4t Michael < 3

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas isn’t super experienced in sex before he meets you, infact you’re his first partner. Obviously he knows some of the ins and outs (pun intended) from his own teenage curiosity and hormones. He also might have stolen Atleast one of Hoyt’s porno magazines before now.

Tommy would become more confident in taking the lead once he knows what you like a little more, then he’d be ok trying other positions and bottoming sometimes. Stuff in the beginning might be pretty slow and steady but after you’ve been together a while it can get a lot more intense.

Definitely has a breeding kink, has a dream of having a big family with you and raising them on the farm to continue the Hewitt name. Something about seeing his seed leak from your abused and puffy hole makes him want to breed it into you harder. Tell him you want him to make you a mommy/daddy/parent (even if it’s not biologically possible) and you’ll be manhandled into a mating press until he feels he’s filled you up enough for it to take.

In the same way it makes him feel so pretty and desirable if you tell him your going fuck a baby into him, he doesn’t care if it’s not technically possible, tell him your going to knock him up and keep him round with your seed, he’ll be moaning around your cock/strap like a slut. Push your fingers into his mouth to give him something to keep quiet on : )

Hucow kink! Loves it whether he’s the one submitting or dominating! Let him lead you around the barn with a cute cowbell collar and cow ears on! Loves to include chest play, no matter what gender (or lack there of) your chest he loves grope it, abusing your nipples until they’re swollen/hard and sensitive, don’t worry though, he’ll be more than happy to lave over them to lessen the sting. If your a good little heifer he’ll shove you face first onto a hay bale, pounding you until your hole is gaping and cum is leaking from it into the rough hay <3

If Tommy is being submissive in this situation he’s super eager to please! Tie him up and Milk his cock over and over until he’s actively squirming away from your hand and groaning in overstimulation. He’s a good boy though and knows his place so he won’t break the binds even if it would be easier for him than most people. Humiliate him and make him moo/beg for your cock/strap! Fuck him whilst using his horns as a grip.

Bubba sawyer

Like Tommy bubba is also inexperienced, raised under Drayton’s view that it’s “sex or the saw”. Due to this Bubba viewed sex as a betrayal of his family, being told it was only there to distract you from what’s important. Please be patient with her and reframe her view of sex, let her know she’s not dirty or immoral for having needs and desires.

Once they know more and gain more experience they’re super eager to impress! Litterally goes down on you like it’s their job. You might have to tap out after a few orgasms because he could drink you down for hours. He’ll leave you shaking and leaky and just look up at you with a happy smile on their cum smeared face.

He loves praise and to know that she’s doing a good job, tell them that they make you feel so good in a way no one else can. Don’t be afraid to get a little more rough with your language however, he loves when you compliment how his cock stretches you just right or how he’s made to take your strap/cock. It feels so taboo for them and makes them squirm.

Absolutely loves it if you use feminine names for her in bed. Doll/baby/princess. Makes him feel so pretty and cared for! Play with bubbas tits, they have an ample chest to paw at 👀 will absolutely mewl into the bedsheets and press their tits further into your hands. Loves to be called mommy! It lets them know you feel safe and comfy with them.

Jason voorhees

Jason is another slasher with a skewed view on sex, his mother taught him it was sinful and the reason for his death, but surely anything he does with the person he loves that feels this good can’t be wrong. Encourage him and let him know it’s ok to fulfill his need and he’s not dirty or wrong for it!

Jason is happy to let you take the lead most of the time considering his inhuman strength, he doesn’t want to hurt you and would feel more comfortable if you took things at your own pace, not wanting to get too excited and manhandle you too much (not that you would mind in the slightest). He’s also not opposed to the sight of you on top of him.

He loves it when you take control, using his cock like it was made for you, draining it for all it’s worth. He loves to know he’s the one making you feel good and he’s the one you love. Praise him and tell him how good he’s doing, that he knows all your favourite spots and can make you fall apart. let him know you own his cock and you’ll do whatever you want with it (with consent obviously)

Despite this, if Jason’s had a bad day with trespassers escaping or traps breaking on him he may be inclined to storm through the front door and pin you to the nearest service, spearing you on his thick cock and leaving you dripping without warning or mercy.

Jason will be open to bottoming over time once his confidence in being intimate has improved and he feels less anxious about trying new things. He’ll still need a lot of encouragement to relax but once he does he’s happy to let you take care of him. Hold his hand as you stretch him open on your fingers, exploring parts of Jason he didn’t even know were an option. He gets a little addicted to the feeling of being used, fucking into him with reckless abandon. You can be rougher with him when topping because of his inhuman nature, thrust a toy or finger in his ass along side your cock/strap, he can take it. He doesn’t have much of a gag reflex due to being undead so fuck his face to your hearts content as long as you wipe his tears and drool for him and tell him what a sweet boy he is for you!

Jason’s very sweet with aftercare, making you a warm drink and cleaning you both up with a wet rag, he appreciates if you do the same for him, maybe bring him his cherished teddy bear to ground him until he feels less floaty.

RZ! Michael Myers

Michael may be quiet but he’s very forward and unashamed with the things he wants. Don’t expect Michael to be shy when it comes to needing you. He’ll silently wrap around you from behind, grinding his need into your behind no matter the time or place, although he’ll back off if you tell him no, he’ll pout and let out a grunt of understanding, leaving to deal with it himself if your not in the mood.

Michael is more relentless in topping when he’s come back from a hunt, the adrenaline quickly turning to arousal as he smears the still slightly warm blood over your lips.

I defiantly think Michael enjoys CNC (consensual non consent). He hasn’t had a lot of control over things in his life considering he spent most of it in Smith’s Grove unable to even dictate the most simple aspects of it. He likes the total power exchange and the control he has over you as you squirm underneath him. It really riles him up if you fight back, biting him until he bleeds and thrashing so he can hold you down even harder. Michael loves to silence your pleads with his knife, running the dull side of it over your flushed and tear laden cheeks, moving it down to your throat as a warning.

(Will absolutely make you suck the handle of his knife until your eyes are teary before stuffing as much of it as he can into your man cunt. If you don’t want to Accidently cut your thighs then you better lay still and take it like a good boy.)

To add onto this I think he enjoys cnc on the receiving end to, if he wants to submit he wants to be dominated completely and wholly without mercy (safewords in place obviously). Michael likes to be handled roughly and shown that even if he is The Shape that you can break him down into a drooling mess. He’s 90% legs but Lord does he get insanely hard when you fold those long legs in half and drill him into the bed with your cock/strap.

(Hold him down and strip him of his coveralls and boxers, eat his pussy before he can even get a chance to steady himself. Manhandle him into position and rut your cunt into his, ignoring his pleasure and using him to get off selfishly. He’ll look at you dumbly and fucked out after, long hair frizzy and a mess of slick on his thighs)

Pull him aside and use him whenever you want, if he rolls his eyes or acts bratty feel free to slap him around! He loves a firm smack on the cheek when he won’t open up more than he likes to admit, he likes to feel powerless under you.

Michael would totally be into predator/pray with him playing the predator. Stalking you through the woods or the empty streets of Haddonfield with his trusted knife. He’s not worried about you being in any actual danger because he’s the bulk of danger in the town anyway. he has no doubts that should someone try get the best of you in the dark he could take care of them and not break a sweat. He stalks you through the town loving the way the your pace picks up the longer it takes for him to strike. He knows it’s inevitable, there’s no where you could go that Michael won’t find you. Don’t expect to make it home once he corners you, you’ll be pushed against or bent over whatever surface is nearest and having his cock bullied into you.

(Michael would grab you and slam you against a tree once he had you cornered, making quick work of his zipper and underwear. T-dick engorged with arousal and want, lips glistening behind the dense brown hair. He pushes you to your knees and gets to work. You will be spending the next while with your mouth and fingers pressed against Michael’s cunt, your head jerked harder and more forcefully the closer he gets)

Billy lenz

Billy is also very forward with what he wants as we can see from the movie, though I do personally headcanon that Billy is hypersexual due to his trauma so sex can go either one of two ways. Either he’ll be super into it and eager or ashamed and feeling disgusted with himself, if it’s the latter please reassure him it’s not dirty or wrong and try distract him with something else.

This couldn’t be a Billy lenz kink post without phone sex. He loves to call you up when your busy (shopping, on a walk, at work) and spew filth down your ear, telling you all the things he’s going to do to you or that he’ll let you do to him. The riskier the location the better. Sometimes he’ll even already be touching himself, mewling down the receiver like a slut for you to come home.

To add onto this I think he’d have a kink for fucking you whilst you talk to someone on the phone, giggling as he nudges his dick against the perfect spot, making you keen into the speaker.

Billy loves dirty talk on either end, whether it’s him telling you how he’s going to choke you on his fat cock or you telling him how good he feels inside you and to cum inside. He adores degrading you, making you feel like a cum dump. He’ll taunt you, telling you you’re only good to warm his cock and get him off, making you sniffle and repeat it back to him for his own satisfaction and ego.

He occasionally thought about the possibility of bottoming from time to time before meeting you but brushed it off since he’s not super familiar with it and didn’t want to meet up with a stranger to try. That didn’t stop him from experiencing with a finger or two but he wasn’t informed and didn’t use lube so it wasn’t good lol.

All this changes after you mention it one night in bed, excited but nervous Billy accepts. It turns out he’s a complete bottom bitch, such a slut any time you can get him under you, he’ll moan without holding back not caring if the other sorority members hear. He doesn’t care whether you’re pounding into him with his face smashed into the covers like a whore or if he’s riding you greedily, he loves it anytime he can have your cock/strap in him.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is incredibly needy and intense, inexperienced but excited to get as close to you as humanly possible. He may come off a little bratty and demanding but he’s completely willing to wait until you’re ready, he’d never do anything you didn’t want. When you are ready it’s all hands on deck, Brahms wants you all the time at any time.

It doesn’t matter if you’re impaled on his cock or if your burried inside him, Brahms is just happy to be close and horny lol

Absolutely has a mommy/daddy kink (dude has crazy mommy issues). He enjoys it when you take the reins for him and tell him what to do, order him about, tell him how to please mommy/daddy just the way they like. You already have quite the control over him in your daily life anyway, telling him what to do and when, making sure he follows his rules. Talk Brahms through how to ride your shaft/strap, make him slow down and speed up whenever you feel like it for your own enjoyment, ignoring his pleas to fuck him properly.

Brahms is horny pretty often, as a result of this penetrative sex isn’t always a need. He loves having free use of you, fucking your thighs until he spills all over them or grabbing your hand and rutting against it whilst you read a book in the other.

Spanking! Nothing puts unruly little boys back in their place like beating their ass until they beg you to stop, all of Brahms’s brattiness seems to disappear once he knows he’s pushed it to far and has a punishment coming his way. He’ll cry and beg you to change your mind but it’s too late, bend him over your lap and rip his trousers down. If he’s been extra ill-behaved bring out the paddle, switching cheeks and making him count until his ass has a pretty pink flush to it.

Asa Emory

Asa demands to be in control, that much is clear and that translates over into bed too. You might have met Asa organically through his university lectures or a museum, if this is the case then you will still be with him under the guise of a 24/7 power exchange relationship. If you met him via kidnapping and was taken to the hotel to be a pet then this will still be expected of you but with the addition of being experimented on/tortured for his own satisfaction. You won’t have a say on your freedom. (I’m going to be writing it from the perspective your kept at the hotel as a pet because it’s more likely)

Asa gets a sick thrill out of treating you like a dog. Fucking you whilst gripping the leash wrenched around your neck until you’re wheezing for air. He’ll make you bark for his cock just to laugh at how pathetic and needy you are, humiliating yourself so you can get your hole stuffed, disgusting. Paw mitts and belts on the thighs/calfs are used to make you practically immobile, totally reliant on him to fulfill your needs and unwilling to do so until he’s broken you down into a sobbing panting mess.

Even when bottoming Asa takes control, barking orders at you about how he likes to be fucked, faster, deeper. You better not even think about cumming without permission or you won’t be cumming again for the next few days whilst he uses your cock/strap like a sex toy. Asa pulls you by your hair as you eat his ass, choking/slapping you if you’re not doing it to his liking. At the end he’ll spit in your mouth and make you say “thank you sir”, forcing your jaw open to make sure you swallowed it all down and patting you on the cheek as a reward.

Medical play is a favourite of his. He enjoys nothing more than stripping you naked and strapping you down to the chilly metal medical table, securing your wrists to the wrist clamps. Snapping on his black latex (unless you’re allergic to latex lol) gloves Asa will dissect you bit by bit. New toys are regularly incorporated to see if he can get a different reaction from you. This can be through pain or pleasure, they’re both the same to him. Clamping your nipples and pulling them until they’re red and sore or landing slaps on your hole for squirming too much. Writing your reactions down on his clipboard and looking at you as nothing more than one of his specimens to pull apart and observe. If he notices a reaction he hasn’t seen from you before he’ll try again and again to recreate it no matter how taxing that may be on your body. Speculums are a favourite of his, prying open and inspecting your most private parts, pressing his fingers or different toys in to see how you react, spread hole twitching at the stimuli and unable to do anything about it. It feels intimate and violating in a way he loves to be able to look at your inner most parts so coldly and close up.

Yautja/predator (female and male)

Yautja are naturally pretty dominant in bed, the whole culture they live in revolves around shows of strength and resilience. Your mate thrives off taking care of all of your needs and proving themselves worthy and this is no different in bed. Always happy to satisfy your needs as your lover and the one who cares for you, your mate will come to help out any time they smell your arousal.

Female Yautja

Your mate naturally takes care of you in bed, a headstrong women who has earned her place on the higher end of society, because of this she loves to dress you up in the finest clothing and jewellery on Yautja prime, showing off her status and by proxy, yours. Don’t think you’re going to just leave the house in it though, she’ll pin you down, eyes taking in every part of you, the way the silky fabric lays across your centre, ready to be opened like a gift. The outfit will include a gold collar to match, one with her mark carved in it so everyone knows who you belong to. She may even take to fucking you in public if anyone tries to challenge her bond with you, your abused hole on display for anyone to see.

As your mate she trusts you to return the favour, however control isn’t given over that easily. You may be the one inside her cunt but she’s the one using you until your spent, a death grip on your collar as she looks down at you from on top, snarling in your face and a placing marking nips against your throat with her mandibles.

Once mating season rolls around she’ll be even more demanding, the instinct to mate and breed you at its peak. You’ll be kept in the nest of furs and fucked over and over. If you pass out? Not her problem, she’ll keep going until she’s satisfied your scented up and marked properly. She takes no brattiness during this time either, acting out or being difficult will earn you getting pinned to the furs, mandibles flared and snarling until you submit.

Male yautja

Another one I think would enjoy primal/predator play. Your mate stalks you through the jungle whilst cloaked. He knows your every exact move and you’re none the wiser. He loves how he can taste your fear in the air but he knows it’s all for show because he can taste you arousal permeating the dense tree’s too. He’ll appear out of nowhere just as your adrenaline reaches it’s peak and swipe your ankles, forcing you down to the leafy floor with him. He lets out a clicky laugh at the surprise scream you let out. Wasting no time he mounts you like an animal and ruins you again and again until your both spent.

Your mate can tell when you’re ovulating and he’s ecstatic to help. Blood is so common to him in his daily life it doesn’t phase him at all, he’s perfectly happy to get down and a little messy, you smell so sweet to him during this time. If this matches with his rutt then you aren’t leaving the bed for a few days, he’ll fuck into you mercilessly until his swollen knot pops inside you, connecting you both together. Once it deflates he’ll scoop his cum back up and push it into your hole, not wanting to waste a drop.

Sometimes it’s nice to be taken care of, and you prove this by absolutely destroying him. Go feral, show him how much of a capable mate you are, wrestle him to the floor and ruin his hole, leave bites and marks on him to claim him. He’ll snarl the whole time and fight back but he loves it. He may even let you use a toy/strap with a knot on it to emulate being seeded and stuffed at the end.

[csuitebitches]

The Charisma Myth: things that I liked

Three quick tips to gain an instant charisma boost in conversation:

Lower the intonation of your voice at the end of your sentences. Reduce how quickly and how often you nod.

Pause for two full seconds before you speak.

The very next time you’re in a conversation, try to regularly check whether your mind is fully engaged or whether it is wandering elsewhere (including preparing your next sentence).

Expensive clothing leads us to assume wealth, friendly body language leads us to assume good intentions, a confident posture leads us to assume the person has something to be confident about. In essence, people will tend to accept whatever you project.

when you can project both power and warmth together, you really maximize your personal charisma potential.

charismatic behaviors must originate in your mind. Knowing how to skillfully handle mental discomfort is even more important than knowing how to handle physical discomfort. Anxiety is a serious drawback to charisma. First, it impacts our internal state: quite obviously, it’s hard to be fully present while you’re feeling anxious. Anxiety can also lower our confidence. Anxiety, low presence, and low confidence can show up directly in our body language, as well as reduce our ability to emanate warmth.

 The single most effective technique I’ve found to alleviate the discomfort of uncertainty is the responsibility transfer. Pick an entity—God, Fate, the Universe, whatever may best suit your beliefs—that you could imagine as benevolent. Imagine lifting the weight of everything you’re concerned about—this meeting, this interaction, this day—off your shoulders and placing it on the shoulders of whichever entity you’ve chosen. They’re in charge now. Visually lift everything off your shoulders and feel the difference as you are now no longer responsible for the outcome of any of these things. Everything is taken care of. You can sit back, relax, and enjoy whatever good you can find along the way.

Golfer Jack Nicklaus said that he never hit a shot, even during practice, without visualizing it first. For decades, professional athletes have considered visualization an essential tool, often spending hours visualizing their victory, telling their mind just what they want their body to achieve.

“There is good evidence that imagining oneself performing an activity activates parts of the brain that are used in actually performing the activity,” Professor Stephen Kosslyn, director of Stanford’s Center for Advanced Study in the Behavioral Sciences, wrote me. Visualization can even physically alter the brain structure: repeated experiments have shown that simply imagining yourself playing the piano with sufficient repetition leads to a detectable and measurable change in the motor cortex of the brain.

Silvia recently confided that visualization is one of the secrets to her success. Before key meetings, she’ll imagine “the smiles on their faces because they liked me and they are confident about the value I’m bringing them. I’ll imagine as much detail as I can, even seeing the wrinkles around their eyes as they’re smiling.” She visualizes the whole interaction, all the way through to the firm handshakes that close the meeting, sealing the deal.

A twenty-second hug is enough to send oxytocin coursing through your veins, and that you can achieve the same effect just by imagining the hug. So the next time you’re feeling anxious, you might want to imagine being wrapped up in a great big hug from someone you care about.

Self-confidence is our belief in our ability to do or to learn how to do something.

Self-esteem is how much we approve of or value ourselves. It’s often a comparison-based evaluation (whether measured against other people or against our own internal standards for approval).

Self-compassion is how much warmth we can have for ourselves, especially when we’re going through a difficult experience.

It’s quite possible for people to have high self-confidence but low self-esteem and very low self-compassion.

Types of charisma:

Focus: Focus charisma requires, of course, the ability to focus and be truly present. Good listening skills are nonnegotiable, as is a certain degree of patience. To develop focus charisma, cultivate your ability to be present.

Visionary charisma makes others feel inspired; it makes us believe. It can be remarkably effective even though it won’t necessarily make people like you. We assess visionary charisma primarily through demeanor, which includes body language and behavior. Due to the fact that people tend to accept whatever you project, if you seem inspired, they will assume you have something to be inspired about.

kindness charisma comes entirely from body language—specifically your face, and even more specifically your eyes. Kindness charisma is primarily based on warmth. It connects with people’s hearts, and makes them feel welcomed, cherished, embraced, and, most of all, completely accepted.

Authority charisma is primarily based on a perception of power: the belief that this person has the power to affect our world. We evaluate someone’s authority charisma through four indicators: body language, appearance, title, and the reactions of others. you’ll need to learn how to “take up space” with your posture, reduce nonverbal reassurances (such as excessive nodding), and avoid fidgeting. You may need to speak less, to speak more slowly, to know how and when to pause your sentences, or how to modulate your intonation. Look expensive. 

Avoid holding a drink in your right hand, especially if it’s a cold drink, as the condensation will make your hand feel cold and clammy. Before shaking someone’s hand, whether you are a man or a woman, rise if you’re seated. And keep your hands out of your pockets: visible hands make you look more open and honest. Make sure to use plenty of eye contact, and smile warmly but briefly: too much smiling could make you appear overeager. Keep your head straight, without tilting it in any way, and face the person.

Ask people open ended questions, focus on questions that will likely elicit positive emotions. With your questions, you have the power to lead the conversation in the direction you want. In fact, even when you’re speaking, the one word that should pop up most often in your conversation is not I but you. Instead of saying “I read a great article on that subject in the New York Times,” try “You might enjoy the recent New York Times article on the subject.” Or simply insert “You know...” before any sentence to make them instantly perk up and pay attention.

Another way to exit a conversation with grace is to offer something of value:

Information: an article, book, or Web site you think might be of use to them A connection: someone they ought to meet whom you know and can introduce them to

Visibility: an organization you belong to, where you could invite them to speak

Recognition: an award you think they should be nominated for

When someone has spoken, see if you can let your facial expression react first, showing that you’re absorbing what they’ve just said and giving their brilliant statement the consideration it deserves. Only then, after about two seconds, do you answer. The sequence goes like this:

They finish their sentence

Your face absorbs

Your face reacts

Then, and only then, you answer

The next time you’re given a compliment, the following steps will help you skillfully handle the moment:

1. Stop.

2. Absorb the compliment.

3. Let that second of absorption show on your face. Show the person that they’ve had an impact.

4. Thank them. Saying “Thank you very much” is enough, but you can take it a step further by thanking them for their thoughtfulness or telling them that they’ve made your day.

It’s not just metaphors that can paint the wrong picture. Some common phrases can have the same effect. When you tell someone, “No problem,” “Don’t worry,” or “Don’t hesitate to call,” for example, there’s a chance their brain will remember “problem,” “worry,” or “hesitate” instead of your desire to support them. To counter this negative effect, use phrases like “We’ll take care of it” or “Please feel free to call anytime.”

You can deliver value to others in multiple ways:

Entertainment: Make your e-mail or meeting enjoyable.

Information: Give interesting or informative content that they can use. 

Good feelings: Find ways to make them feel important or good about themselves. 

The longer you speak, the higher the price you’re making them pay, so the higher the value ought to be. 

If your goal is to communicate power, set the pitch, tone, volume, and tempo of your voice in the following ways:

Pitch and tone: The lower, more resonant, and more baritone your voice, the more impact it will have.

Volume: One of the first things an actor learns to do on stage is to project his voice, which means gaining the ability to modulate its volume and aim it in such a targeted way that specific portions of the audience can hear it, even from afar. One classic exercise to hone your projection skills is to imagine that your words are arrows. As you speak, aim them at different groups of listeners.

Tempo: A slow, measured tempo with frequent pauses conveys confidence.

To emanate vocal warmth, you need to do only one thing: smile, or even just imagine smiling.

Charismatic people are known to be more “contagious”; they have a strong ability to transmit their emotions to others.

The most effective and credible compliments are those that are both personal and specific. For instance, instead of “Great job,” you could say, “You did a great job,” or, better yet, “The way you kept your calm when that client became obnoxious was impressive.”

Here’s one specific—and surprisingly effective—recommendation for phone charisma, courtesy of author Leil Lowndes: Do not answer the phone in a warm or friendly manner. Instead, answer crisply and professionally. Then, only after you hear who is calling, let warmth or even enthusiasm pour forth in your voice. This simple technique is an easy and effective way to make people feel special. I recommend it to all my business clients whose companies have a strong customer service component. The gains in customer satisfaction are impressive.

Charisma takes practice. Steve Jobs, who appeared so masterful on stage, was known to rehearse important presentations relentlessly.

Retain at least a certain measure of equanimity. Most charismatic leaders are known for their ability to remain (or appear) calm even in the midst of turbulent circumstances.

[kararisa]

darling, starling

— 27. through it all — ✦ (wc: 0.8k)

notes: this took longer than expected ^^ hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

To Yae Miko's credit, she cut straight to the chase. 

Not that Scaramouche would give her much credit in general, given that she had always treated him with such indifference over the years before he finally moved out. But he'd take his small blessings whenever he could.

It was a cut-and-dry deal: Yae Miko would interview Scaramouche regarding the recent scandal between his partner and one of the band members of Windborne. He would get the chance to clear the air with the help of one of the most influential news outlets in all of Inazuma, while Yae Miko would get an exclusive story people could only dream about.

It should have been over the moment they ended the interview. But here they are, making casual conversation. At least as casual as it gets between a son and his estranged mother-in-law.

Scaramouche has seen these tactics before. Whenever Yae Miko wanted information, she’d make casual conversation with the interviewee to get them to open up. And that’s when she strikes.

Ironically enough, it was also Yae Miko who taught him how to avoid this. She was the one who taught him when to give information and when to hold back; how to satiate people’s curiosity enough so they leave you alone. Basic media training — training he and Kaori knew by heart.

Yae Miko tilts her chin downwards, the way she does whenever she gets curious. “You’ve been back in Inazuma for a little over a year now. Is it nice living with them? I’m assuming so since no one’s spotted you packing your bags just yet.”

“I still live with them. But that’s none of your business.”

“Oh come now, you saw me turn off the recorder. Everything we’re saying right now is off the record.”

Against his better judgment, he yields, “It’s... nice. On the days when they actually wake up early, they help me cook. It’s become a routine of sorts.”

He knew that was exactly what she was looking for when he saw the hint of satisfaction in her eyes.

It’s a slippery slope, trusting a journalist. Some will risk their lives for the truth while others will stab you in the back while shaking your hand. But if it’s Yae Miko, he has no doubt she’ll only publish the truth, if only a little embellished. She has to sell stories, after all.

“You’re never usually this civil with me,” Scaramouche doesn’t attempt to mask his suspicion. “What do you hope to gain with a conversation that’s off the record?”

Yae Miko offered a cryptic smile, her eyes revealing a flicker of sincerity. “Am I not allowed to be curious? People are actively looking for you just for the chance at an interview and you reached out to me in the hopes of clearing the air about your relationship.”

He’d be loathe to admit that she was one of the few people he trusted to handle the story properly. But he still had to ask, “And now you’re just this so-called off-the-record conversation as some sort of blackmail?”

She sighs, “I’m getting an exclusive interview with the author who’s dating an Inazuman pop star. Would you blame me for asking a few questions? Besides, you’ll see none of this conversation mentioned in any articles.”

“How do I know you’re not just bullshitting me...”

“I can understand your apprehension, but words hold power, Scaramouche. Everyone in the industry knows this. And so do you.”

Scaramouche has never really seen eye-to-eye with Yae Miko on a multitude of things, but one of the few things they can agree on is that people shouldn’t just blindly believe what people say just because they have a large following. The Narukami Press has always strived to publish articles that are reflective of the truth. 

But bias is inevitable, whether you work in journalism or public relations.

“A large majority of people are always going to want to chase the latest drama without caring if it’s true or not,” she starts. “You’ll find no such motivation in me to keep fanning the flames. I want them to die down as much as you do.”

“People like us have a responsibility to be careful with what we say and how we say it,” she continues. “The drama with Zenith was blown out of proportion, that much is for sure. People were hungry to see their downfall given that they were on top for so long but they were just as eager to drag you down with them.”

“Setting the record straight by yourself will be nearly impossible,” she states matter-of-factly. “But your friends have been preparing their statements to defend your partner, yes?”

He isn’t even surprised that she knows about this, especially a PR move this big. Working with his friends will be the best way to get the rumors to die down to a manageable level.

“Your word and Xiao’s will be what people hang onto the most. Make it count.”

“And fight for them, Scaramouche. They need you now more than ever. If you decide to ignore all my advice, then that’s fine by me. But never stop fighting for them.”

“Like hell I’d ever stop. No matter what happens, I’ll be with my partner through it all.”

✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧

summary: being the world-famous singer-songwriter "zenith", the limelight has been on you ever since the start of your career. however, the media becomes relentless when leaks of music you never meant to release begin to circulate. your friend scaramouche, meanwhile, seems to have gotten stuck while writing his second book. with a deadline fast approaching, he comes to you with a deal: act as if you're dating him so he can gather reference material and, in turn, he'll help keep the press' eyes off of your leaks until you release your next album. a win-win in your book, so why not help a friend out?

author's notes:

i lied, this was my favorite chapter to write by far

happy new year everyone!! updates will probably slow down from here but i hope you enjoyed the chapter ^^

taglist — currently CLOSED:

@aestherin @your-kuya-pogi @yourstrulykore @krnzysh @vxnuslogy @yumiaur @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @meigalaxy @nymphxie @motherscrustytoenailclippings @samyayaya @hiimera @beriiov @e0nssadrift @dazaisboner @nillajhayne @chluuvr @deffenferofjustice @romyoia @xiaomainlmao @hotgirlshit5 @potabletable @letthewindlead @esuz @toriiee @kclremin @angelkazusstuff @phoenix-eclipses @sakiimeo @mayuumine @lilybythevalley @one-and-only-tay @keiiqq @what-just-happened-huh @haunts-gh0st @layla240 @miaakai @duckyyyx @cinnaniyoom @kgogoma @xtobefreex @mechanicalbeat1 @feiherp @venturinea @nnasv @retiredmommylover @onmywaytoteyvat @tiredslepz @saccharine-sucks

[marasmadness]

soft dom regina mills x fem reader smut where reader has a praise kink & a mommy kink <333

Midnights With The Mayor || Regina Mills x Reader

CW: smut, strap ons, praise kink, mommy kink, blindfolds, biting, magic during sex bc why not 🤷‍♀️, dom/sub dynamics

WC: 2.5K

“Granny’s Diner, this is Ruby speaking.”

Regina heard the pop of her gum through the phone as she pinched her phone between her ear and shoulder so she could flip through the papers on her desk. As usual, she was the last one in the town hall. It was long after the sun had set and all the other office lights had gone out. “ Ruby, it’s Regina. I know it’s late, but would you mind swinging by with an order on your way home after your shift? I’m at my office and I’ll pay you extra.”

Ruby scrambled for her order pad in the pocket of her apron while simultaneously filling the coffee mugs of the diner’s last lingering customers. “Let me close up, and it’ll be there around 1 o’clock. Your usual order, I assume?”

“Yes, thank you Ruby.” They hung up, and Regina continued with her work. Regina had shown slightly more softness toward Ruby than the other residents of Storybrooke. She had been one of the first to forgive Regina along with Emma, was great with Henry, and even supported her return to the position of Storybrooke’s mayor.

She quickly returned to work, plowing through the seemingly never-ending pile of town proposals or updated budgeted plans. No matter how much she accomplished, her workload also replenished itself by the next morning. She made an effort to cram out a little extra on Friday nights so that she could spend most of her weekend with Henry without having to pick up extra phone calls or bring work with her to his activities. Half an hour later, Regina heard a knock on the double oak doors echo through the hall’s tiled corridors. “ Door’s open; come on up Ruby.” She had yet to look up when the door creaked open, but the tentative footsteps across the marble caught her attention.

She looked up to spot someone unfamiliar, who was not Ruby but wore the same uniform. You lingered tentatively in the doorway of the mayor’s office, holding up her takeout bag. “Two orders of apple cinnamon pancakes?”

She nodded, confirming you had the right place. It took her a moment to address you. You threw her off. She knew every face in Storybrooke, or at least she did, before you showed up. She had been distracted, less focused on Storybrooke’s border, and using less magic recently anyway in order to gain the town’s trust.

You began to fidget under her gaze when she approached you. Her heels clicked against the floor with long, fluid steps, and she reached her hand out toward you. For a brief moment you forgot you held your order in her hand and stared at her outstretched hand. Quickly realizing what she was reaching out for, you placed the brown paper bag in her hand, dropping your head to hide the slight blush that tinged your cheeks.

“Regina Mills, May-”

“Mayor of Storybrooke. Of course I know who you are, Miss Mills,” you finished with a soft smile.

She raised her eyebrow, glad to hear her reputation still reached as far as it did when she was the evil queen. “And you are?” She asked, prodding for a name, as she rested her hand on her hip against the smooth fabric of her pencil skirt.

You gave her your name, explaining that you went to school with Ruby, and she invited you to spend the summer with her here in Storybrooke rather than in Boston, where you lived.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. Welcome to Storybrooke.” She turned around, leaning over her desk to grab her wallet. Your guilty eyes roved over her body while she was turned and distracted. You had heard plenty about Regina Mills from Ruby during your road trip to her hometown, but she had failed to account for the fact that with a single brief interaction, she had your palms sweaty, which you attempted to hide behind your back. Regina wore a red silk blouse tucked in her skirt, with a few unhooked buttons near the top that revealed the slightest curve of her cleavage. It was obvious she had been running her hands through her dark, silky hair, which was slightly tousled.

You attempted to loosen your tense shoulders and offer a casual smile as she turned back around toward you. Your lips parted in surprise as she grabbed your wrist, placing a stack of cash in your palm. “Here, for the late-night visit. I appreciate it. Sorry for keeping you up.” Her voice was soft; there was no need for volume when she was as close to you as she was. A subtle smirk crossed her red-painted lips as she closed your fingers around the money.

“ Oh really, it was no extra trouble at all. I would’ve been up if I wasn’t working anyway. Terrible sleeper.” You rambled nervously, trying to make your visit seem like as little of a hassle as possible to the woman.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You swore she could’ve winked with the statement, but the light surrounding the two of you was too dim to tell.

You turned around, closing her office door slowly behind you. “Have a goodnight, Miss Mills.”

…

The next morning, Regina sauntered in bright and early to Granny’s Diner. Only a few regulars had beat her here, silently sipping on their coffee in a corner booth.

Ruby spotted her surveying the room with a purpose and smirked. “ Regina! Back so soon? What can I get you? Or who can I get for you?” She raised her eyebrows, twirling a red pen between her fingers.

Regina hollowed her cheeks into a petulant expression, annoyed that Ruby could read her that quickly. “Where is she Ruby?”

The girl clicked her tongue, pointing towards the curtain that led to a back section of the restaurant. “Back by the laundry. There was a coffee spill.”

The mayor strode through the quaint Storybrooke staple before Ruby had finished, slipping away from the smell of hot coffee and homemade syrup.

Rolling her tongue across the tip of her teeth, her introduction rolled off her tongue when she found you leaning against the washing machine, your shirt splayed out in front of you as you scrubbed at a coffee stain. She held her breath, letting her eyes soak in your bare skin before you noticed your presence.

“Mayor Mills, eager for our reunion to be so soon?” You commented without turning around to face her, hiding the small smile as you tucked your chin to your chest.

Regina withheld the instinct to flinch in surprise. “How did you know it was me?” She questioned, now more intrigued than shocked.

“You’re not the only one with powers around here.”

The color drained from the sorceress’s face, fearing the worst until innocent pink tendrils flowed from your fingertips, erasing the previously unrelenting stain from your shirt.

Regina crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re not just here for summer break.”

“ Nope.” Shrugging your shirt back over your shoulders, you buttoned it up and retired your apron over it. “ Ruby’s been trying to get me to come out here ever since we were freshman roommates and she sensed I had magic. I’ve never bothered to learn more than party tricks.”

“She wanted you to learn from me,” Regina finished, putting the pieces together.

Hopping up onto the drier, you crossed your legs and shot her an eager smile. “So, teach me?”

Regina wasn’t sure what suddenly made her so agreeable, but she found herself saying yes before she could hesitate. She had a possessive death grip over her powers and was never quick to reveal her secrets, but the feelings that were luring her to you made her willing to sacrifice the slightest bit of control in order to keep you around. “Meet me tonight at 9; come prepared.”

“Prepared for what?” You asked, scrambling after her as she pivoted around.

“ Anything.” You froze, watching her leave and knowing you weren’t going to get anything more from her right now. Her hips swayed slightly beneath her red blazer as she left with the same confidence she walked in with.

Despite not having an address, the mayor’s house was not hard to find. It took all of 15 minutes to travel from one end of Storybrooke to the other. Even with Ruby’s vague instructions, you ended up right in front of Regina’s house. It was the biggest one on the block, with pristine white siding, an eye-catching red door, and an impressive collection of apple trees beside it.

The door swung open before you could even knock, revealing Regina, still dressed for work, minus the blazer. She let you in, glancing up and down the street before she closed the door behind you. She invited you to sit on a bar stool in her kitchen. You had been out for a drink for Ruby and were still dressed for it. The older woman’s eyes darted to your lap as you attempted to pull the hem of your dress farther down your thighs as you sat down.

She leaned against the countertop across from you, pouring two glasses of wine. “So what have you worked with before?”

You shrugged, tapping your fingers against the bottom of the glass. “Mostly small objects I guess, never anything powerful. I’ve used it to grab things across the room, plenty of laundry.

Regina tilted her head. A smile crossed her face, amused at your innocence. “You’re a witch, and you use your powers for... laundry.”

You laughed airily. “I’m not a witch. I’m not out here cursing people.”

“ Ruby really taught you nothing. You don’t have to be evil or cursing people to be a witch. You practice magic; you’re a witch. You don’t see me out here cursing people, well, anymore.”

You raised an eyebrow at the suggestion, but she dismissed it with a dark stare. “So, what do you do with your powers?”

“Whatever I wish. Though I am trying to use them less due to a history of a…. magic high, if you will. Let’s start with teaching you how to work with humans. It feels different from objects and requires more strength. You have to sense their skin, touch, or blood if you’re working with dark magic.

You stood up slowly, raising a hand. “I am not working with-”

“Relax.” Regina waved her hand and your arm well back to your side.

You looked down to where your fingers rested against your hip without you placing them there. “ Woah.”

Regina walked around the counter, placing herself in front of you. “I usually get a more impressive response than “ Woah,” but we’ll work on it.”

Your eyes brightened with a hunger that Regina recognized in her younger self when she had first been opposed to magic more powerful than her own. “What else can you do?”

Regina’s eyes raked over your body in thought before she raised two fingers, curling them into her palm. Controlled purple light sparked from her fingertips, wrapping itself around your wrists. You gasped in surprise as she lifted them above your head without a single touch. Stumbling backwards, you looked up to find your hands pinned above your head and Regina hovering over you with a single glide.

Her voice husked in your ear, the sweet wine still scenting her breath. “Do you still need further demonstration that magic can feel good?”

Tilting your head brought your mouth closer to her lips, and you found her dark, unflinching stare. “Yes,” you whispered, daring her to go further.

With your word, she hooked her finger on your collar, practically dragging you around the corner. You found yourself in her bedroom, and she pushed you down on her mattress. You watched attentively as you kicked her heels off and strode over to her nightstand, digging through it for something.

She revealed a blindfold before wrapping the piece of silk around her palm. You looked up at her curiously as she kneeled into the mattress before your vision went dark.

From the movement of the mattress, you sensed her settling onto the bed a few feet away. You flinched when her raspy voice entered your ear, and you picked up immediately that she was using her powers to project her voice across the space between you.

Our powers come to the surface best when we’re desperate, so use yours, and I’ll fuck you. It’s that simple.” You could hear the grin in her voice as you sat frozen in a moment of shock.

Working based off what Regina had done with her voice, you attempted to extend your sense of touch past where your arm lay still beside you. You were hesitant to use your magic, fearful of losing control. A soft pink glow from your touch eventually reached out and wrapped around her waist, eliciting a soft smile of satisfaction from the older woman. “Good girl, keep going.”

Guiding your sensations lower, you found her belt buckle and loosened it until you heard it click where it felt beside her. While brushing over the fabric of her slacks, you faltered as your touch latched around her belt loop and, to your surprise, rested on a curved bulge straining beneath the fabric. Regina chuckled at your reaction. “Mommy’s taught you well.”

She must have finally been satisfied with your display of powers because you heard her shuffling around, stripping herself of her clothes. Your fingers itched to remove the blindfold so you could soak in the goddess-like state of the woman kneeling in front of you.

You felt her hands on the back of your head working to undo the knot, and then your vision came back to you. Regina loomed over you, her hands on each side of your head. After teasingly grazing her fingertips along the length of your body, she lined up her thick red strap, dragging the tip across your folds. “ Already soaked,” she hummed softly.

She brought her hand up over your mouth, and before you had time to react, she was pounding deep inside you, reveling in the vibrations she could feel underneath her fingertips from your moans and screams. The room filled with the sounds of slapping skins and heavy breaths.

Regina lowered her mouth to your chest, sinking her teeth into the soft flesh with restraint. You dropped your head back into the pillows, closing your eyes in an attempt to fight the dazedness that was starting to cloud your head. Sure to leave a scatter of marks, Regina’s lips latched onto your skin, only releasing it to circle your nipple with her tongue.

You let out a guttural gasp as the woman bent your legs over her shoulders, brushing her faux cock against your throbbing clit. “Come for me baby,” Regina whispered just as she drew you over the edge into a blinding orgasm. Your thighs tensed and quivered as you coated her cock with your cum. Her pace slowed down as your euphoria faded and sleepiness washed over you. Regina climbed up, satisfied, and grabbed a warm washcloth. Sitting on the bottom of the bed, she smiled, watching the starry-eyed look you wore as she cleaned you up. “So, lesson tomorrow?”

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Unprofessional

This wasn't part of the deal.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Yoongi, Human!Reader, Unstable AU, set prior/during the Jungkook storyline, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, strangers to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, eventual smut

Wordcount: 4.5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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He’s not sure how, or when this happened.

It’s been not even a full three weeks at this point, and you’re currently happily reading a new book about how to treat and prevent interplanetary bacterial infections, a book he’d bought you just recently after you’d shown interest in it. Now that, in itself, is exactly what you should be doing- after all, that’s why he took you in, and that’s why you’re here. What definitely did escalate however, is how much he spends on things regarding you that aren’t necessary.

Proper bedding, new clothes, a more comfortable identification collar, a new AC unit in his ship, hell, he’s even started to study himself about what you should properly eat to stay healthy. This isn’t what he thought this would be like. And the worst part about it-

Every time he sees your amazed expression, and hears your genuine gratitude, he feels all warm inside, distinctive purring sound of satisfaction threatening to start sounding the moment you look happy.

You make it hard to stay away.

He wants to sleep close to you these days, just to make sure you’re safe and comfortable, and it’s very obvious why that would be. It’s not just sexual need manifesting some feelings he might not have, it’s deeper than that. If he wanted sexual satisfaction he can just do it himself- he doesn’t need someone else for that, nor does he really crave it often. But looking at you, he could see himself indulge in physical activities more often than he did in the past.

But is it all really worth it?

He doesn’t know you well at all yet. He’s not sure if you’re actually as docile and loyal as you appear to be, or if it’s all just an act to gain something from him later on. He can’t yet be sure that you won’t stab him in the back the moment he turns it towards you, so he will have to see and learn a little more about you before he actually makes any kind of move into a friendly direction.

Better safe than sorry, as humans say.

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“interesting!” the man Yoongi introduced as Seokjin beams, smiling kindly at you. “and you’re keeping her as a partner?”

“She’s simply there so you stop nagging about me not taking proper care about my health.” Yoongi denies, looking through the fridge while his cat-like tail sways around with interest. It’s a little odd to you how he doesn’t outright deny the possibility of being his partner- but you also don’t question it, because it’s not your place to do so.

“Hm, that does soothe my worries quite a bit.” Seokjin nods, before he puts a hand onto your shoulder- something Yoongi instantly glances at from an angle, feeling oddly irritated. “Come, let me make you a proper meal. Do you have any preferences ?” He asks, hand on your back as he leads and helps you onto a chair that’s a little too tall to hop onto.

Yoongis tail snaps up a little at the sight. He doesn’t like what he’s seeing, though he’s not sure why.

“I’m okay with anything.” You tell the older alien, who nods.

“Hm, but do you have anything you like the most?” He wonders, making you visibly fall into thought, before you shake your head.

“I haven’t eaten.. many things yet. So I don’t really know.” You say, more quietly, a little hesitant, carefully looking for Yoongi as if you need his approval to make sure what you’re saying is right.

Seokjin looks at you for a moment, before he turns his head to Yoongi.

“Where.. did you meet her?” He asks, and you can sense his nervousness a little, making you slightly uneasy.

“I stumbled upon her on an outpost.” Yoongi responds. “she asked to be taken along to my next stop, and I took her in instead because she’s pretty low-maintenance and doesn’t need money as payment.” He shrugs.

Seokjin looks back at you, before he walks closer again. “can I.. see your back for a second?” He asks, and you nod, not sure what he’s trying to find- and even Yoongi is confused, walking closer to his friend who carefully lifts your shirt to inspect your skin.

It’s when the older one’s fingers trace some faint small scars that Yoongi looks more closely, and recognizes it as numbers most likely burned in near your lower spine.

“Jin..” Yoongi quietly says, snapping his friend out of his trance as he lowers your shirt again, and shakes whatever he’s felt for a moment off, smiling kindly again.

“I’ll make you something warm to eat.” He excuses himself to occupy his thoughts with cooking for now, while Yoongi stands close to you for just a moment longer. You share a glance with him- but his eyes reassure you, tell you not to worry.

So you don’t.

After making sure you’re not upset or uncomfortable, Yoongi offers to help Seokjin out of hearing range from you- careful as he’s not sure how to really speak up on the very obvious question. “Jin.” He sighs, putting a hand on the older one’s for a second to halt his movements. “is it her?” yoongi asks-

But Jin shakes his head, emotions obvious on his face.

“No.” He answers, defeat evident in his voice. “the number.. it matches, but not entirely. It’s fine though. I just.. thought.” He brushes off, before he moves to chop some more vegetables again.

Seokjin’s mate is a touchy subject. For years he’s been searching by now- but there’s no trace anymore, no lead, no hint at where to look for. Without his partner, Seokijin would’ve never been able to go back home. But the price he paid for it still left scars that reopen on occasion, just like today.

“Maybe she knows something?” yoongi worries, but Jin shakes his head.

“Its fine, Yoongi.” He denies any further talk about it. “just.. forget it.”

When you’re back on the ship after a very filling meal, yoongi feels a bit exhausted- but also glad to be back in his personal home again, environment safe to him as he watches you sleep as the ship breaks orbit again. “Yoongi?” You ask from your sleeping bag, and his ears turn towards you- a common sign he’s listening. “why did Seokjin get upset over my Number?” You wonder, and the alien sighs.

“Because his former partner had a similar number on her back.” He explains vaguely. He doesn’t like talking about stuff that doesn’t involve him- but he also wants to make sure you know that it’s nothing to do with you either. “She died on Gaehos, after they both got attacked by a wild.. alien species.” He offers. “or at least, that’s what we all believe. Jin.. still holds hope that his partner somehow survived. Which isn’t likely.”

“what were they doing there in the first place?” You wonder.

“Seokjin used to travel a lot.” Yoongi remembers. “He was an intergalactic research agent, and his partner was assigned to him. He fell in love along the way, I guess..” yoongi shrugs.

“Oh.” You say, accepting this as enough info to be reassured that at least, it wasn’t about you. “I hope he finds his partner one day.” You mumble, before you snuggle up more into your sleeping bag to finally rest-

And Yoongi can only sigh to himself, unable to understand this unreasonable clinging to hope that’s not even there.

A truly human habit, apparently.

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He’s currently busy repairing.. Something. You’re not sure what it is, or what it’s used for- it looks like a small turbine maybe? But to be fair, you’re not meant to understand that thing, or it’s purpose. You’ve rather been put into service to understand him- and that seems to prove more difficult than you have initially assumed.

He’s very obviously a Xaqal- but his behavior is sometimes incredibly unpredictable.

While his kind lives in large groups, and prefers the security of those communities, they’re also quickly irritated and combative to anyone they don’t seem a member of their chosen group. Yoongi however appears to prefer to live in solitude- never complaining about being lonely, or actively reaching out to you for comfort. Sure, sometimes, when the ship hits turbulence, he will actually sleep closer to you- but you assume that that’s actually more so him ‘protecting what’s his’, to make sure you don't get hurt so to speak. Not because he likes you as a person, but simply because you’re a member of his chosen ‘group’.

But other times, very rarely, he does things that completely throw that entire narrative of him being a ‘typical’ member of his kind right out the window. From little gifts he presents you like blankets or your very own water bottle, to the way he never seems to turn down any opportunity to help you with things.

“Yoongi?” You ask him suddenly, making one of his cat-like ears turn towards you, a sign that he’s listening. “Are you feeling okay?” You wonder, and at that he puts the screwdriver down to look at you, face unreadable.

“I feel fine.” He answers, staring you down with suspicion. “Why do you ask?”

“Just.. Because you’re acting like you don’t feel well.” You explain. “One of the books I recently started reading states that Xaqal people instinctively start to turn towards solitude when they become unwell.” You state, and he sighs, pushing some of his hair out of his face.

“Yeah well, I’m not like those examples you have in your books.” He denies, turning back towards his task. “I feel fine. I just like being alone.”

“Oh.” You just say, before you nod, and move towards your strange.. setup in the middle of the of the rather small spaceship right across his navigation panel, to move everything out the way and into a more secluded corner. This however seems to irritate him- eyes staring at what you’re doing, fur on his tail slowly standing up to give it a puffy appearance, a reaction he cannot control, body a lot more open about his feelings than he is with his words.

“What’re you doing?” He questions, clearly upset.

“I- You said you like being alone. So I want to give you space?” You explain, and he hates that it makes sense. It makes sense that you should give him space if he likes being alone so much- but he also doesn’t want you to be so far away where he can barely notice you. But he also doesn’t want to confuse you any further, because frankly, he doesn’t really know what he wants and what he prefers now either- so how are you supposed to know?

“I can stay if you like?” You ask, though the hesitation and slight confusion is clear in your tone. He gets ready to wave you off-

But he nods. Because even though he can’t explain it, he wants you to stay within his reach.

“Okay.” You nod, sitting a bit away from him now, before you think- something he picks up on.

“What is it?” He asks, and you look at him with something in your eyes that’s dangerous- most likely because you’re probably unaware you’re even doing this to him.

“Could I.. could I maybe have something to take notes with?” You ask, before you further clarify. “so that I can understand you better.” You say, and he can’t help but stare at you for a moment, dumbfounded.

Yes. Of course you can. Anything you fucking want-

“Sure..” he mumbles out, before he occupies himself again, tail curling around himself protectively as he hides his face behind his hair. “just.. remind me next time we stop.” He says to himself mostly, and you nod, even though he can’t see that.

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You say, before you move to pick up your book again-

That sweet tone of yours still echoing in his head long after you stopped talking.

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When he opens his eyes, he’s... home?

He remembers this field. Thousands of flowers, their heart-shaped, red leaves large and covered in drops of morning dew. He knows he’s dreaming right away, because this field no longer exists like this. It’s long been destroyed in order to build more factories- but he remembers his mother and father taking him and all the other ‘siblings’ he had throughout his childhood there. He always enjoyed just laying there amongst the slightly fruity scented flowers, simply staring up at the skies, trying to make out what shapes the clouds might be trying to display this time.

It’s nice that he’s dreaming about this, every now and then. Like a comfort-dream, haunting him softly whenever he feels.. Left alone.

Left behind.

He can hear something, from the left. His head turns, and he spots you- wearing a simple white gown, no shoes or jewelry, even your collar no longer there. You look free, completely unbound to anything as you run around chasing the few fluttering insects that swarm around you, butterflies with long tails, circling around your body like their dancing with you.

You’re really pretty. And in a dream like this, he doesn’t need to look away- he can stare at you however long he likes, taking you in for once.

Once you spot him, you make your way over to where he’s laying down, sitting close to him in the sea of flowers. You don’t say anything, and he likes it that way- words aren’t really needed here in his dream. He just wants to feel your company, even while it’s just his imagination, wants to just be himself without the world expecting the opposite, or worse yet, shaming him for such needs. It’s a gentle moment, nothing but serenety for a while as you sit next to him and take the scenery in around you. It’s obvious that you’re curious, and he wonders why you don’t ask to have things explained.

Your home must be very different. But then again- are you even a human born on planet earth?

It could be. And if you are, he wonders what earth looked like to you when you grew up there. He wonders how long you had until you inevitably became nothing but a wandering body, seeking some sense of purpose no matter what kind. Thinking about it now, he’s glad you’re with him. Who knows what else might’ve become of you if you’d gotten picked up by someone else.

“Yoongi?”

The moment his head snaps up, he realizes that he didn’t just dream- he daydreamed of all things, having gotten lost in the memories of last night’s actual dream while waiting for you to finally emerge from the doctor’s office. “Sorry it took so long- it took longer since you told them to do a full check-up.” You explain, giving the paperwork to him. He takes the papers after looking over them for just a second, before he looks at you.

“Everything good?” He asks, short as ever- and you nod, with a happy smile on your face. That reaction alone convinces him that you’re telling the truth, and aren’t just trying to pacify him by claiming to be alright.

Still- he will take a look at them more in depth later on.

As you both start walking through the neon-lit streets of the relatively new planet, you pass quite a few stores- one of them selling clothes that catch his eye. A comfortable, white sundress and next to it a functional bodysuit clearly made for both comfort and safety during interplanetary travel- and he stops, making you in turn stop as well to check why he’s no longer moving. He points at the faceless mannequins, but doesn’t say anything- yet still, you appear to understand.

“You’re right. That might be good for future travels.” You nod, before your face falls. “Oh- but.. That's too expensive. Could you.. I mean, would it be okay if you gave me 200? I’ll give them back to you-” You start, but he just sighs, and enters the store with you running after him.

“Go see if they have your size.” He instructs you, shamelessly also observing which you one you pick just for future reference.

While he’s waiting, you’re trying on the functional bodysuit- for a moment enjoying the new fabric and comfortable fit, while also letting the feeling of being cared for envelop you. Yoongi is a really nice person, even though he often corrects you on that. You’re not quite sure why, if its just an act of protection or if he genuinely believes in his own claims- but to you, personally, he’s a very kind man.

A bit rough around the edges, but nothing too harsh.

When you emerge from the changing rooms again, it’s with a little happy jump in every step; happy about your newfound favorite item of clothing, which will both make traveling a lot more comfortable, and make you feel a lot better about yourself. It’s a bit of proof that Yoongi seems to think about keeping you around long-term, and you like the idea of a permanent ‘home’ a lot.

Though, when you move to pay for it, Yoongi simply nods you towards him, pointing to a bag he already has in his hand. “I paid for it.” He says, and you can’t help but feel caught off guard by it for a moment, before you reluctantly put the folded clothing into the bag where something white is already waiting. “Are you hungry?” He asks, as you both exit the store, not quite looking at you, but making it still clear that he’s got you in his peripheral vision at any time, just to make sure you won’t get lost.

One more of those subtle hints that he looks after you, in one way or another.

You shake your head in honestly, because you genuinely don’t feel like you need to eat anything at the moment. It’s a rare new feeling you have these days, no longer every going thirsty or hungry to bed. He provides for you, and you in return try and become someone who can provide for him as well- so that he can always find a use in you, and never starts to feel like you’re a nuisance.

You want a permanent home. And yoongi feels like be could be just that.

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You lied to him.

He’s reading your paperwork you got from the doctor’s office, ship now having taken off again, giving him a good time to take a proper look at the check-up data he’s received. And while you told him that everything is alright, he’s stumbled upon a few notes in your paperwork that make it clear that it’s actually not. It’s nothing life-threatening, absolutely not- but it is something that he has to be aware of.

Are you scared of him finding out? Scared he’ll just discard you like a cheap slave? And if so- has something happened to you before that would warrant such a fear?

Maybe he’s too intimidating after all. Maybe he needs to be.. Just a little softer with you. But he also doesn’t want to pamper you, or cause you to feel too comfortable around- because you need some fear in you to survive. You won’t survive if you’re ever separated somewhere, and he doesn’t want to lose you.

He invested, after all. Not just money. Yeah, that’s exactly why. No other reason at all.

His dreams still won’t let him go whenever he rests. You invade them constantly, and the scenarios he manifests in his sleep become more and more.. inappropriate, so to speak. He’s not sure if it’s simple natural need or something deeper- but he knows he can’t act on it, can’t just use you like that. He also doesn’t like the thought of visiting any of the adult entertainment houses on any planet he comes across; not because he’s in any way ashamed of himself or his desire, but simply because he sees an act like that as something intimate. He’s had his fill of meaningless get-togethers when he was younger, wild and with the need to prove something to himself.

He doesn’t like the thought any longer. He craves something permanent, something stable.

Could you provide that? Possibly a new exchange? Part of the contract, so to speak. He shakes off the thought of it however, feeling a shudder run down his spine just not from cold or the thought of you ever feeling like you need to appease him no matter the cost just for your own wellbeing- but because of your hand, right on his neck, brushing over it in a gentle way.

He turns around, but you just sheepishly look at him. “there was some dust- sorry, I’ll ask before I touch you next time.” You apologize, while his tail wraps around his waist. Why is he feeling uneasy now?

“Its.. fine.” He mumbles. “as long as it’s just you.” He offers- though when you stay silent, and he looks up because of that, he spots something that’ll stay in his mind for weeks no doubt.

You’re shy. It’s obvious from the shape of your eyes and your slightly parted lips. You nod, silently, before you answer.

“I- Yes. Okay.” You agree. “You can uh- you know. Touch me too. I don’t mind, as long as, like you said.. it’s you.” You admit, looking down at his shoes. It’s quiet for a good moment or two, silent thoughts running through both of your heads, and its obvious you still want to say something else in addition- but you don’t. Because it’s him who speaks first, almost without his control.

It’s like the words fall from his lips before he can stop them- though so strong and thick like syrup that he can’t just keep it in his head.

“Thats good- I don’t like sharing.” He speaks, before he attempts to look busy looking at the navigation panel in front of him.

“yoongi?” You ask, a little timid in your tone. “What.. is there something on your mind?” You ask, but he shakes his head.

“No.” He denies.

“Then.. am I bothering you?” You question, but again, his answer is the same.

“No.” He repeats. “Why are you asking that?” He wonders, looking at you again.

“I’m not sure but.. you just seem distracted lately.” You tell him. “and uh.. whenever you drift off, you look at me, or at least my direction. So I just thought.. it might have something to do with me.” You explain your thoughts, making him sigh.

Of course. To be fair, he wasn’t very subtle about things.

“I don’t know.” He offers you. “I’m going to be fair- I do have you on my mind. I just.. don’t know why, and in what nature.” He tells you, and you sit down on the floor close by- something he shakes his head at, as he instead pats a part of his table in front of him that’s free of any cluttered important equipment. You take the invitation, mostly because you’ve never really been this close to him. Once you sit on the smooth surface, feet no longer touching the floor, your leg easily brushes against his as he leans back in his chair.

“What do you mean, in what nature?” You wonder, and he tilts his head a bit in thought.

“I’m not sure if it’s just hormones or lust, or something more complicated.” He bluntly reveals.

“Oh.”

There’s a good moment of silence yet again, where he watches you chew your lip a bit, deep in thought, before you speak up once more. “I-“ you seem a bit hesitant, though you continue the moment he nods in encouragement. “I want you to know that, whenever I’m, you know, nice to you, I’m not doing it just because you’re technically my boss.” You say. “I’m doing it because.. Well, because it’s you.” You say. "I believe you deserve being nice to.” You offer.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Yoongi sighs, as he crosses his arms almost defensively- though you can spot the slightest twitch in the corners of his lips. “But.. I’ll remember that.” He says, before he adds another sentence that sounds awfully soft compared to his usual tone-

“And I hope you’ll remember that I’ll do the same for you.”

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He feels a lot lighter now knowing you know what's going on with him.

It's obvious that he still doesn't know what he really thinks of you- but he's noticed that it doesn't seem to bother you at all. He's quite relieved to see that your behavior or view on him hasn't changed at all- if anything, you seem to be more at ease than ever before, openly trusting in his abilities to provide whatever you might need. You no longer walk after him like a shadow or slave; instead you walk ahead even, eagerly taking in the scenery of the new planet you've stopped on.

"You wanna have some?" Asks an elderly woman with a scar over her cheeks and eye, while she watches you look at the steaming bowls of food she has prepared at her little spot. "Hm.. get your K'shar here, you look hungry." She says, pointing to your collar- and you're unsure what she means.

So you instantly look for Yoongi, who walks closer.

"Here." He offers an appropriate amount of money, though the woman gives him a confused look.

"You work for him?" She asks you, and you nod- making her chuckle as she shakes her head, but offers two bowls to Yoongi. "I'd doubt you but you smell the same. S' he treating you good?" She wonders, and you don't even need to think before you nod.

"Very." You say.

"Thats what counts. Don't let those rats in the cities put mud in your brain. He's good if he treats you good." She tells you, and you accept it with a thanks, though you're not sure why she said it.

It's only as you walk towards the Inn you'll be staying at, that you speak up about it.

"Why does everyone seem to think I have it bad with you?" You wonder, and Yoongi shrugs.

"Because my kind tends to be the slave, not the master." He simply explains to you, while he scans the entrance with a device in his hand, so the door opens. "Thats just how it is."

"I can't imagine you in my spot." You shake your head, carefully carrying the food as you walk up the stairs to your room- Number 374, as he'd told you when you arrived here.

"Why not?" He asks, opening the door for you to walk through.

"Cause you're.. wild. I'm not sure how else to explain." You say. "You do your own thing." You shrug, setting down the food before you sit on the large bed- the only, you notice.

"I'll take it as a compliment." He says, as he sits down at the tiny desk where you had put down the food earlier. "Now come here. Let's eat." He commands- though it's more offered than demanded.

The moment you sit down across from him, and begin to eat, you both fall into a comfortable silence, that is, until you hear something you haven't really.

He chuckles.

"You don't have to force yourself." He teases almost. "Go to bed. I'll clean up." He offers you, and you nod, grateful, before you simply walk to the bed to throw yourself in it- not moving at all after that, too exhausted from the long trip.

So, just before he cleans up, you can feel a blanket being placed over your body-

Another gesture so kind that you can't help but wonder what could be, only if things were just a little different.

If only he would start to be a bit more.. Unprofessional.

[guided-by-stars]

One of the aspects of the systems of belief established in ISAT that makes it so fascinating to examine is that they are are centered around praxes that aren’t focused on as much in the major religions in our world.

Much has been said about how the Change belief encourages self-exploration, (transness is seen as holy, exploration of identity is encouraged) and pressures those who don’t want to change who they are (Mirabelle). The underlying core of the Change belief is action. Active Choice is more encouraged than anything else. The choice to change your body, the choice to change yourself, the choice to change your circumstances, the choice to go on a pilgrimage, the choice to learn new skills, etc. Of course passive change is also celebrated- death is seen as just another Change, and I assume that would apply to aging in general (appreciation of elders?), but it’s not as pushed. In this way, the Change belief encourages autonomy, control over your own life, and ownership of your life circumstances.

On the other hand, those who believe in the Universe as a force of power in the world are faced with the opposite pressure. When the King and Siffrin are relating for the first time over their shared culture, they both remember the phrase “The Universe leads, we can only follow.” The underlying core of their belief is that what is fated must happen, it’s inaction. Passivity. Any drastic action that is taken is justified by it being a path the Universe led them on. When the King starts the battle, he says “Let’s see which side the Universe favors!” Whoever ultimately wins at the end was fated to win, and that could never have been changed. It’s about resignation, acceptance.

This ultimately impacts everything about how the story plays out. When Siffrin first realizes he’s in a time loop, he’s excited! The Universe has given him the power to change things! He’s being led on a path where he can protect his friends and make sure everything is alright! They’re fated to win! As the futility of his quest sets in though, he very quickly turns to resignation instead. What’s the point of getting upset over having to die again and again? There’s nothing he can do about it. The Universe leads and he can only follow. If anyone else was the one looping, they would probably react quite differently just due to that.

However, it’s more complex than just that. What about Wish Craft? Isn’t that purely about taking action, making a Change? Well, partially, but because of the culture that everyone who knows about Wish Craft is part of, it’s seen more as appealing to the Universe. Asking, pleading, for the current to bring you down the left stream instead of the right in the fork in the waters. If you gain something from Wish Craft, you were given it, you didn’t take it. Once again, it’s passive. If Wish Craft was a Vaugardian thing, it would certainly be seen differently.

If the Change belief’s focus on action encourages autonomy, control over one’s life, and free will, what does that say about the Universes resignation and acceptance? Once again, I’m reminded of Euphrasie repeating words as if she’s prerecorded, skipping like grooves on a well-worn CD.

There’s also something to be said about how, in the Change religion, they appeal to a deity, one that you can have a personal and positive relationship with, and those who believe in the Universe are believing in an unfeeling force of nature. None of this is to say either is more beneficial than the other, the pressure to always Change can be extremely destructive, and sometimes acceptance is much better than change. It’s just fascinating how much they come into conflict with each other.

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

[ content warning: discussion of in-canon sexual abuse ] Maybe it’s just because I’m not too active in the ALNST fandom and mostly observe from afar, but I think this fandom brushed aside way too quickly the fact that Till was sexually assaulted. I have never seen anyone talk in depth about like, what that actually means in terms of his arc and the storytelling of his character. Which I find deeply, deeply upsetting because holy fucking shit.

This man right here has been told, basically his entire life, that not only is he himself not worthy of being treated as a human, but that his body is not his body, but a piece of property that can be owned. And whoever owns his property can use it for whatever, and however they wish. Now, dehumanization is nothing new or unique in this world, obviously. The very concept of Pet Humans is dehumanizing by nature, leaving all six of our main characters as victims to it, even those who are more well-off like Mizi. But Till is a specially fucked up case almost distinctly unlike the rest, because he is actually treated like a fucking dog.

(x) Ivan: If you keep rebelling like that, they won’t ever remove your collar you know? Till: This annoying bastard… — Ivan: I told you so, didn’t I? You didn’t listen? Till: This annoying bastard... (translation courtesy of @leiikos on youtube)

(x)

An unruly animal who needs to be leashed up and put in it’s place. Animals, as is common knowledge, are not on the same level as a human being. But they are ordained to follow the commands of those above them. And if someone (thing) isn’t doing as it is told…

It deserves to be taught better. But I’m getting ahead of myself. This is the mindset that has followed Till his entire life by the ones who were supposed to take care of him. He is not human, even less human than the existing inhuman. He is a pet, even more so than the other pets, an animal. A thing. Property. Something to own. And the best thing about owning something?

You gain the ability to do whatever you want to it. Till’s body was not his from the start. It was used as something to toy around with, experiment with, to train and train and train, presumably for his whole life. His body, his skin, his flesh and bone and blood, it was all nothing more than a plaything. So what if he screams? Just ignore it. Or don’t. If this competition has taught us anything, voices have the most value of all. On top of it being reinforced that Till is not deserving of humanity, he is also not deserving of his bodily autonomy. People are free to do whatever they want with his body because it’s not his body, it’s theirs. And that brings us, finally, to the scene itself

He can’t sing her song, he refuses to. This isn’t the first time he’s refused to do something, far from it actually. What was once an innocent puppy with dilated hope in his eyes has grown into an angry, disobedient mutt. And we know what happens to an animal that refuses to do what they’re told. But there’s something interesting about dogs, or rather about the ones they descended from, the wolf: When the circumstances call for it, they will bite the hand that’s supposed to feed them.

And here is where I intrude to remind you that this is the only time we see anyone physically fighting back against the aliens in the confines of Alien Stage. We see Hyuna and Mizi fucking up aliens in All In, but that was after they had escaped from the cage. And you could make a case for Mizi trying to escape the grasp of the guards that grabbed her in Ruler of My Heart, but from what we saw she didn’t actually lay a hand on them and more so just tried to force herself out of their grasp. though if you disagree with me on that that's fine Here though? Till has this bitch’s face grabbed into his palm with a bottle in hand ready to smash it directly in between it’s eyes. I consider this to be the first act of physical violence shown against the aliens within the uncomfortably tight enclosure. And it’s triggered not because of anything personally done to Till, which on its own could probably fill a list that reaches the ground. But because of the prospect of Mizi being dead. Till knows that this place is shit, that his life is shit. Said so directly on his profile.

Dislikes: Everyone, including Guardian Urak (translation courtesy of @kh47uo on twitter)

But he stays regardless because Mizi is there. If Mizi is dead, Till has absolutely nothing to lose…Right?

I can almost imagine him thinking: There’s nothing you can put me through that’s worse than every other way you’ve hurt me. …But there was. Oh there was.

A final, disgusting message to the pet to put him back in his place. Back on his leash. Making sure he will never forget where he stands for the rest of his days.

And that is really what the sexual assault of Till represents to me. It is a cruel reminder to Till that fighting back is impossible, having hope, being free, it might as well be a fool's fantasy. He will always be less-than-human, less than anything. His body will always be the property of the ones that were supposed to protect him, claimed, and then used used used until it’s worn out and dead.

And the aliens chose to exemplify that fact in the most direct way they possibly could.

So what if he screams? Just ignore it. Or don’t. If this competition has taught us anything, screams have the most value of all

[remxedmoon]

“the merciless cobra. its caustic venom can traverse any distance… as long as it stays out of danger.

…please, pay no mind to those ghastly stains. it must’ve been splashed with paint while my back was turned.”

reptile

1 power - 1 health - 3 blood

2 power - 3 health - 2 blood

sniper - you may choose which opposing space a card bearing this sigil strikes.

touch of death - when a card bearing this sigil damages another creature, that creature perishes.

hidden trait - gemmified

when a sigil is transferred to this card, it becomes gemmified. gemmified cards gain +1 power, +2 health, and -1 cost.

COBRADILE!! this was probably the most fun card to make out of all of them. also probably the prettiest card imo!!! writeup below!!

sniper and touch of death! pretty deadly combo. literally. you can just kill any card you please from any spot on the board. i was DEAD SET on giving her the sniper sigil. it just felt right.

GEMMIFICATION YIPEEE! this is a mechanic from act 3! but mox cards appear in act 2 as well. in base game inscryption, you need to have specific gem vessels on the field in order to activate the buffs (ruby for power, emerald for health, and sapphire for cost) but! mox cards and gem vessels aren’t really. in kaycee’s mod. and it would be super clunky to add them for a single card! so all you have to do is sacrifice a card’s sigils onto her. is this a little broken? maybe. but this is inscryption, literally everything is broken lol

^expanding on this, it still kinda fits lorewise? ka buans do compress their ashes into diamonds after all. let’s say that they compressed the creature into a diamond or something and that’s what’s powering her, idk

ok i’ll stop talking about the mox thing after this. both sif and odile were given mechanics from the other scrybes! siffrin requires bone tokens (grimmora) and odile has mox (magnificus). no sorry there’s nothing for p03. they don’t have computers in the isat world i think. i’m pretty sure.

initially i wanted to make her a stork or an ibis, but. all avian cards have the airborne sigil. which makes their attacks hit the opponent directly instead of their creatures. and that defeats the entire purpose of sniper. so she gets to be a spitting cobra! i think it’s more fun this way anyways. more fun shapes.

also this kinda spoils bonnie’s card a little but!! i put thought into the tribes too!!! the vaugardians (mirabelle, isabeau, and bonnie) are all from the hooved tribe! odile is a reptile and sif is tribeless because they’re outsiders. teehee.

ok patch time. she gets double strike, which makes her attack twice (as the name implies). i chose this in reference to memory of first strike (it just reminds me of it? idk) and also because it synergizes with sniper! you get to oneshot TWO cards in one turn! good god! odile really is merciless

that’s everything important about this card! i know this is long as hell but! that’s what happens when you introduce an entire new mechanic. i guess. anyways alt card art!!!

[romantically-yours]

UPDATE:

IM PRETTY SURE WE HAVE A DATE THIS TUESDAY!!! NOT SURE IF ITS IN A GAY WAY OR NOT BUT IM SO EXCITED!!!

YALL A GIRL BOUGHT ME A DRINK YESTERDAY AND I GOT HER NUMBER!!!!

[444you]

KALOGERAS BEAUTY TIPS . 🤎

hair care is crucial. look into diy hair masks that revive ur curls. the most infamous one is the egg, olive oil, and mayo one. now you don’t have to stop doing things like straightening your hair but keep it to a minimum, make sure you have heat protectant. curling brands to consider is lola or skala, both brazilian brands. i believe they all use bounce curl products however. just take ur hair journey slow, research if possible. natural shampoos like using aloe vera gel straight from the plant could be beneficial. however it is not necessary.

now with clothes, they have a variety of different items. sometimes they share the same clothes. but a majority of them are bodycon dresses and basics (plain tees, tube tops, and such). this is something you can find anywhere.

and lastly, self love. the kalogera sisters know they’re fine. and so should you. sometimes it’s harder to gain confidence than it is others. you hear fake it til you make it. tbh i’m learning myself as well. ur self love journey is something sacred. you will eventually find your way. i know for me, i might not feel the most confident but when i put megan thee stallion on… that’s another story 😭. i also never neglect self care. i do my activities every friday, it’s the best day for beauty and self care. wether that’s making homemade hair and skin masks. treating myself to some sweets. baking cookies. that’s another thing i think sunday does? she loves to bake. that’s a good way to treat yourself. and there’s many recipes, both homemade and storebought.

[sophieseals]

FURIOSA SPOILERS

Dementus parachute cape going from white in the beginning like a ‘saviour’ to covered with red paint once he meets a war boy and darker towards the end of the film has a GRIP ON ME. I’m torn as I think it could relate to two things.

1) how his followers see him as a saviour figure, and how active he is to use them as cannon fodder/ no true loyalty or freedom he pretends to uphold in order to gain followers. (See the Citadel Speech)

We all know Dementus is a manipulative prick the first time he ever meets Furiosa however, would be able to hide his true intentions to any child that wasn’t trained/like Furiosa. Taking the best care of her and saying he was going to take her home if she gave him directions seeming as if he was a good man when he did this in order to find, destroy and parasite off of the green place. His followers at this time see him as a saviour maybe not to the effect of immortan Joe but they see hope in finding a ‘better land/resources’ (See beginning of the film/ fruit tent scene)

It first becomes muddied when he encounters his first war boy (not after he commits his first act of violence!)This scene is later followed by his Citadel speech scene and follows his followers getting fucking blown to pieces by his arrogance and he doesn’t even try to save them. He only goes after Furiosa and the poor man who’s his walking dictionary only to further his own needs. His followers see him less as a saviour and the gang starts to split between leaders (see gas farm decoy scene that follows this, where there is tension between gang leaders AND he starts shooting his own men for decoy). (Also the Citadel I just mentioned)

And then lastly we see it towards the late second to third act of the film once he is separated from Furiosa where the top of the cape has gone black almost like it is covered blood. This is when he acquires gas farm and bullet farm (the black could also represent tar and the fossil fuels of both plants/greed). However this is when he is at his most volatile, his own people in the respected farms are planning a district 8 style uprising and he can’t keep his own gangs together due to his reckless behaviour. This is also best shown in the final act when he uses two out of four of them to be literal decoys for him so he can escape with his life. His followers no longer see him as a saviour and he has only has core followers left.