#Psychic Reading in California

[astrosivaram55]

PANDITH SIVARAM•RENOWND ASTROLOGER,PSYCHIC SPIRITUAL HEALER

BOOK YOUR APPOINTMENT NOW

+91 8374341432 ONE CALL CAN BE CHANGE YOUR LIFE

World famous Indian Traditional Skilled Astrologer and psychic reader and Bring Back your Love U PANDIT SIVARAM JI He can Solve your all kinds of problems like Love, Relationship, Family, Financial, business, job, health, etc.., All kind of problems can solve and Permanent solution, 100% Results...!

[psychickuberan]

Kuberan is the Best Psychic in California with proven experience and has been unmatched for more than 2

5 years. He has served people from all over the United States and overseas as well.

[tarotifficlady]

Incantations are not silly rituals that you purchase from an "Etsy Witch" whose experience is based on trips to the library and Hot Topic!

Over 20 plus years in the evaluation of different types of needs from people all over the world!

I have matched 212 successful soulmate unions with a 100% satisfaction rate. I have personally officiated at three dozen commitments and I have only seen two relationships unravel in my 20 plus years!

I have reunited 149 people from all walks of life, including adopters, exes, siblings, and friends who lost touch.

I have successfully eliminated negative energy from 406 unique environments and have taught each client how to keep those entities away permanently!

I have given the families of 297 generational curses the ability to move past the sins of their ancestors.

I have assisted with 612 spiritual awakenings and hosted 35 retreats that help with this type of guided study.

I have given 93 future parents conception determinations and gender revelation with just three unknowns that wound up as twins!

I have thoroughly evaluated and provided step by step guides for those who are attempting to invoke their own karma and experience to give the advice necessary to successful ends.

I have given 61 entrepreneurs the best spells for monetary investment success and have witnessed almost half go on to join the millionaire club.

I have founded the Circle of Trust that gives each client a personal monthly reading schedule and ritual development process that returns up to 400 satisfied customers each year in a priceless partnership that is focused on the best outcomes for each one.

I will provide the tools and my expertise to those who are genuine and trustworthy. I only open my practice to new clients after an interview that allows me to tune into the energy and get them to where I believe I can assist with their goals and provide mutual respect.

My hope is to connect with those who aren't seeking a quick fix to problems, but that are willing to put effort into learning new skills to obtain the keys to manifest their own spiritual awakening.

I have enough to be personally satisfied, and my work is meaningful and I am not interested in fake or greedy folks who have limited foresight.

You are welcome here and I am open to questions about the business at hand!

I am an ordained minister and I offer ceremonies for all people, and can legally officiate in most US STATES.

I offer long distance Zoom and in person ceremonies and my fees are structured to give opportunities to everyone. I am currently in the process of booking my 2025 schedule and I will provide a list of my travels to allow for booking simultaneously to help keep expenses low.

I will do my best to accommodate you and I prefer a minimum of Four months notice for anything outside of California, and 30 days notice for Zoom officiating duties. I provide full ceremonies and quick vows to unions between loving folks. Gender, sensuality, religion, and class isn't a problem.

If you are interested in ceremonies for grief services, including a passing of a human or animal companion, please contact me with details for the quoted price. I do not require much more than a donation for these offerings if done via Zoom, and only ask for inexpensive travel costs to be reimbursed if outside of my area.

If you wish to see an entire menu of my Jill of All Trades services, simply look up the post here on Tumblr linked here

https://tumblr.com/servicemenu

[best-astrologer-california]

Expert Psychic Reader in Arkansas | Gain Insight and Clarity Today

Are you looking for guidance and answers in life? Our experienced Psychic Reader in Arkansas offers intuitive readings to help you find clarity, direction, and peace. Whether you seek answers in love, career, relationships, or personal growth, our psychic services provide accurate insights and spiritual guidance. With years of experience and a deep connection to the spiritual realm, we’re here to help you unlock the mysteries of your life path. Book your session today and discover the wisdom that awaits you!

Contact Us:6892436585

psychickuberan@gmail.com

[mokshnaasthsadu]

California Cosmic Connections: Astrology Psychic Readings

Unlock the mysteries of the universe and gain profound insights into your life's journey with our astrology psychic readings in California. Our experienced and intuitive psychics combine the ancient wisdom of astrology with their psychic abilities to provide you with personalized and enlightening readings. Whether you're seeking clarity on love, career, relationships, or personal growth, our cosmic experts will delve deep into the celestial energies surrounding you, offering guidance and empowerment. Connect with us today to embark on a transformative journey of self-discovery and cosmic alignment.

[bambithevideogame]

100 posts!

#Y2KDisTek #DjHotWheels #enXanting

[anthonyteresica]

Website : https://www.anthonyteresi.com/

Address : 3625 E Thousand Oaks Blvd Suite 166, Westlake Village, CA 91362

Phone : +1 818-430-8606

Anthony Teresi is a gifted Clairvoyant, Master Astrologer and Psychic Visionary. His life's work has been the development, refinement, exploration and mastery of the highest intuitive and Psychic realities of consciousness. Anthony has a lifetime of extensive study and experience in the fields of Clairvoyance, Psychic phenomenon, Metaphysics, Cosmology, Mysticism, Theosophy, Ontology, Philosophy, Astrology and Psychology. Exploration of modern emerging scientific studies also include quantum field theory, epi-genetics and neural plasticity. More esoteric studies have included Neo-Egyptology, the study of Ancient civilizations and cultures, as well as the profound Urantia teaching.

Business mail : uknc4evr@verizon.net

Follow us :

Youtube : https://www.youtube.com/@anthonyteresi5813

Facebook : https://www.facebook.com/AnthonyTeresiPsychicMasterAstrologerClairvoyant

Twitter : https://twitter.com/callAnthonynow

Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/aanthony_teresi/

Linkedin : https://www.linkedin.com/in/anthony-teresi-9711587/

GMB : https://maps.app.goo.gl/YSEq5am2evHwiFr6A

[astroravi]

Top Psychic in California: Accurate Horoscope Readings

Find the most knowledgeable and accurate horoscope reader in California. Our best psychic in California provides individualised horoscope readings that offer insightful analyses of your future, interpersonal relationships, and life path. Count on our knowledgeable psychic to lead you on a path of empowerment and self-discovery. To have a life-changing experience, schedule a session right away.

Phone Number

+15166689595

Email

gayathridevi@gmail.com

[cipheramnesia]

The reason I probably shouldn't be allowed to make movies is I have no impulse control and I would immediately make something called Revenge Of The Dead Tranny Hooker. It would be about a trans woman trying to break into acting, but no one wants to hire her for anything except playing a sex worker who gets murdered. Then one day she does an open casting call which runs her through a series of increasingly bizarre line readings, which it turns out are meant to summon an eldritch demon to grant the movie producer god-like powers.

The culmination is supposed to be sex on the casting couch, but she ditches at the last minute, destroying the ritual and splintering the extradimensional entity across California. She unknowingly receives powerful extradimensional blood, while the rest of the fragments seek out the powerful and violent people of the world. Meanwhile the movie producer uses his new powers to transform his PAs into henchcreatures, and sends them after the protag to finish her off. She discovers her new powers in the ensuing fight, which also seem to be gradually altering her body every time she uses them.

The rest of the movie is a steadily escalating game of cat and mouse between trans woman and movie producer. While the former transformers the fragments into powerful psychic weapons like chainsaws and spiked bats, the later uses fragments to make himself bigger and physically stronger. At first the fights are short and brutal, the protag outmatched and outgunned, but she gets more confident to the point of an anarchic battle of against the LAPD led by a demonic police captain, including a scene where she stands on the roof of a speeding police car and rips the driver through the windshield.

Her eventual form is some kind hyper sexual draconic mantid squid rippling with biomechanoid components. In the fight with the producer he thinks he's winning by tearing apart the last of her human flesh, but this just complete her transformation, letting her easily overwhelm him. It's implied from that point forward she plans to conquer the world.

[astrologermanjunath]

Unveiling the Mysteries of the Future: Astrologer Yuvaraj, the Best Palm Reader in Florida

In the vibrant city of Florida,US nestled amidst the serene landscapes and bustling metropolis, seekers of ancient wisdom and cosmic insights turn to the renowned Astrologer Yuvaraj. His mastery in the mystical art of palmistry has garnered him a reputation as the best palm reader in the region. With an exceptional blend of intuition, knowledge, and compassion, Astrologer Yuvaraj has guided countless individuals on their journeys of self-discovery, providing clarity and direction in uncertain times. In this blog, we delve into the reasons why he is regarded as a guiding light for those seeking answers from the stars.

 The Essence of Palmistry

 Palmistry, an ancient divination practice, traces its roots back to the Vedic times and has since been celebrated as an art form that reveals the unique intricacies of an individual's life. Each line, mount, and mark on the palm holds valuable information about one's personality, past experiences, and potential future. Astrologer Yuvaraj possesses a profound understanding of this esoteric discipline, allowing him to decipher the language of the palm with extraordinary precision.

 Astrologer Yuvaraj's Expertise

 What sets Astrologer Yuvaraj apart from the rest is his extensive knowledge and decades of experience in the field of palmistry. His journey as a palm reader began at a young age when he discovered an innate connection with the esoteric world. Through relentless study and dedication, he honed his skills under the guidance of esteemed mentors and sought-after palm readers worldwide. This arduous quest for knowledge granted him an exceptional level of mastery that has captivated even the most skeptical of clients.

 A Caring and Empathetic Approach

 Beyond his profound expertise, Astrologer Yuvaraj is revered for his warm and empathetic demeanor. He understands that seeking guidance from the stars can be an emotionally charged experience, and he treats each individual with genuine care and respect. His approach ability and open-mindedness create a safe space for clients to explore their innermost thoughts and emotions, fostering a deep sense of trust and rapport.

 The Power of Empowerment

 Astrologer Yuvaraj firmly believes in the power of self-empowerment. Instead of merely predicting future events, he aims to equip his clients with the tools to make informed decisions and create their destinies. Through his enlightening readings, he unveils the potential hidden within each person's unique palm patterns, encouraging them to take charge of their lives with newfound clarity and purpose.

 A Legacy of Gratitude

 The testimonies of satisfied clients stand as a testament to Astrologer Yuvaraj's profound impact on their lives. Countless individuals have attested to the positive changes they experienced after seeking guidance from the best palm reader in Perth. His insightful readings have inspired people to overcome obstacles, embrace opportunities, and embark on transformative journeys of self-discovery.

 Conclusion

 In a world filled with uncertainties, Astrologer Yuvaraj shines as a beacon of ancient wisdom, guiding souls towards self-awareness and empowerment. His extraordinary mastery of palmistry, combined with his empathetic approach, has earned him the title of the best palm reader in Perth. For those seeking to unravel the mysteries of their lives and chart a course towards a brighter future, a session with Astrologer Yuvaraj is an experience like no other, as he unveils the secrets written in the palms, unlocking the true potential of every seeker. You can also get rid of relationship disputes by the help of astrologer Yuvaraj.

[best-astrologer-california]

Unveiling Destiny: Meet Texas' Finest Psychic

Discover the unseen with Texas' best psychic, offering profound insights, clarity, and guidance. With unparalleled intuition and wisdom, our psychic illuminates the path to your true destiny. Trust in the power of the unknown and unlock the secrets that await you with Texas' finest psychic.

Contact Us: 6892436585

psychickuberan@gmail.com

Click Here: https://psychickuberan.com/top-psychic-in-texas/

[hcneymooners]

best friends mom ambessa? perchance? love ur fics 🤍

⋆ you made me crazy, you made me wild.

best friend's mother!ambessa x curvy!f!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: a psychic once told you you'd have the kind of love that would mark you for the rest of your life. did it have to be with your best friend's mother?

cw: milf!bessa, age difference, older woman/younger woman, modern au, you and mel are best friends, long rich people vacations, curvy!reader, reader is implied to be a woc but you can still read regardless, forbidden love, sneaking around, vaping bc i have an oral fixation however i have never once smoked i just like the vibe i fear, non-sexual intimacy, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, overstimulation (bessa!receiving, r!recieving), multiple orgasms, tribbing, cunnilingus (bessa!receiving), you go to town on her my god, squirting (bessaaaa does it), tender sex, floor sex, manhandling, light angst, friendship breakups, angst with a happy ending.

notes: perchance is killing me. thank you so much for being so sweet mami. hope you enjoy. also, don't vape kids!

you and mel haven't spoken in three weeks.

the thought sits heavy in your chest as you perch on the window seat of your boutique, one leg tucked beneath you, the other dangling lazily. your cream silk camisole rides up your belly, catching on the velvet cushions behind you. outside, venice beach awakens like a lioness stretching in the sun, all languid and golden.

the brass bell above your door chimes softly in the morning breeze. your fingers find your vape – a delicate thing of gold, engraved with climbing roses – and bring it to your lips in a motion as natural as breathing.

the sweet ghost of vanilla mango curls around you like a familiar lover. you've always needed something between your lips, a fact that amuses your friends and once made ambessa raise an eyebrow in that way that sent heat flooding through your body.

the recent mornings have been sadder and slower than most, though objectively one wouldn’t be able to tell. you keep waking in fits, your body heavy with mourning. your reflection in the shop window shows what you've become in her absence: curves nestled in vintage, mussed hair tumbling past your shoulders, lips stained the color of crushed berries.

a crystal pendant nestles in the soft valley between your breasts, and your rings catch the light as you fidget with the hemline of your denim cutoffs. there's nothing calculated about your appearance today – no performance or intention. it's as honest as you can muster this morning.

the wooden floor creaks beneath your bare feet as you move to arrange a display of moonstone rings. your own fingers are adorned with gold bands, each one telling a story of who you were before that summer in england. before mel, before her mother and that library with its leather-bound books and muggy afternoons, before you watched her, endeared as she peered at her phone with those sunglasses perched on the top of her head.

before you realized that the soft animal of your body had found its home in the worst fucking lineage alive.

your phone lights up again – another message from mel. her name on the screen sends a fresh wave of guilt through you, but not regret. never regret. not about the way her mother’s hands felt on your waist in the conservatory, not about the first kiss that tasted of chlorine and whiskey, not even about the screaming match that ended with you on a plane back to california.

you take another long drag from your vape, watching the morning light fracture through hanging crystals into rainbow patterns across your skin. the salt air mingles with your perfume – something expensive and european that ambessa had picked out because she liked to dress you like a little doll, build your body up.

a customer pushes open the door, sending the brass bell into a symphony, and you unfold yourself from the window seat. your reflection shows a woman who knows exactly who she is – soft-bodied but steel-spined, tarnished but holding out for healing.

you tuck the vape into a vintage ceramic dish beside your register, next to the rose quartz crystal your psychic insisted would bring your true love back to you. you're not sure you believe it, but you keep it close anyway, just in case the universe is listening.

the customer's voice hits you like a wave – crisp, cultured british vowels discussing the merits of different pieces. it's nothing like ambessa's voice, really, but it's enough to send you tumbling back into that summer, that first day when everything changed.

𓇼

mel had been waiting at heathrow, practically vibrating with anxiety, her locs spun into a tight chignon at the nape of her neck—a nervous habit since childhood. you'd fallen into each other's arms like you always did, all tears and high laughter, ignoring the disapproving looks from passing businessmen. it was the same way you'd hugged since you were five, sharing grape juice boxes and childish fantasies on the playground.

"it's just a little cottage in the countryside," mel had said on facetime, twisting her initial necklace. "very quaint, very english. you'll probably think it's charming." what she hadn't mentioned was that her "cottage" was actually a sprawling estate that made downton abbey look modest.

honey-colored stone stretched towards the sky, windows gleaming like diamonds in the afternoon sun. the gravel drive seemed endless, winding through gardens that swallowed the sun within their towering walls. it must’ve been a dream to grow up here, small feet tumbling through the mazes and nothing but the entire world before you. your hand was still clasped in hers on the gearshift of her vintage mercedes, just like always, but you could feel her fingers trembling slightly.

"mom's probably in the library," mel said, killing the engine. "she's got this thing about afternoon light."

she chewed her lip, a habit you recognized from exam days and first dates.

"just… don't take it personally if she's a bit… well, you know. she can be kind of intense. dad always says she's an acquired taste."

you remember adjusting your dress, a red-and-white gingham number that clung delicately to your stomach. the bow at the bust had come undone at least three times that morning, and the skirt, airy and flared, fluttered in the slightest breeze. it felt a little too simple, too worn for the looming grandeur of mel’s childhood home, but you hadn’t thought to pack anything else. besides, something was grounding about it—the way the cotton pressed against your skin, the familiar weight of the straps on your shoulders, like it was trying to remind you who you were.

you followed mel through halls lined with oil paintings and antiquities. your sandals clicked against marble floors, echoing off high ceilings. everything smelled overwhelmingly of jasmine and time passed, the atmosphere practically bloated by money’s touch.

and then there was ambessa.

she stood in a shaft of golden light, tall and elegant in a cream linen suit that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. silver threaded through her dark hair which was braided down into a neat, long plait and when she turned, her eyes caught yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. your psychic's words echoed in your head – "your palm reads of a love that will shake you. stand fast, girl." – and something in your chest shifted, like tectonic plates realigning.

"mom, this is my best friend," mel was saying, but her voice seemed to come from very far away. you noticed how she shifted her weight from foot to foot, how her fingers twisted in the waistband of her maxi skirt. "the one i've been telling you about."

ambessa's handshake was firm, her skin warm against yours.

"welcome to our home," she said, and her voice – god, her voice was like honey over gravel, like smoke and leather. "i trust you'll find everything… adequate."

you managed to say something appropriate, probably, though you couldn't remember what. all you could focus on was the way ambessa's eyes lingered on the wide basket of your waist, the delicate line of your collarbone, the pearl drop nestled between your breasts. it felt like a cigarette dragged slowly across your skin.

later, sprawled across mel's massive bed like you used to do at sleepovers, both of you tipsy on expensive wine stolen from the cellar, mel talked about her latest boyfriend drama – some posh boy from oxford who couldn't commit – while you traced patterns on her linen sheets. but your mind kept drifting to the library, to ambessa's knowing smile, to the way she'd looked at you over dinner like you were a deer she very much wanted to fell.

you didn't know then that those looks would become your undoing.

𓇼

you couldn't sleep that first week, your body stubbornly running on pacific time. the massive house creaked and whispered at night, all those endless corridors filled with shadows. you'd taken to wandering, padding through the halls in your cotton shorts and an old guns & roses tee, your thick hair piled high in a silk scarf that your grandmother had taught you to wrap just so.

that's how she found you the third night, curled up in the window seat of the informal library (because of course there were multiple libraries), reading the beautiful and damned by phone light. your bare legs were tucked up under you, painted toes peeking out, a half-eaten peach leaving sticky fingerprints on the pages.

"fitzgerald at three in the morning?" her voice was rough with sleep, but still commanding. ambessa stood in the doorway in a black silk robe that made your mouth go dry, her hair loose around her shoulders. "how terribly american of you."

"can't sleep," you drawled, your accent thick and lazy in the quiet. "time zones are, like, totally brutal."

the ghost of a smile touched her lips at your exaggerated californian lilt, and something warm unfurled in your chest when her eyes lingered on your face, studying you with a naked interest that made your skin prickle.

it became a ritual after that – you in your sun-faded pajamas, her in sophisticated sleepwear that probably cost more than your rent. she'd pour two fingers of sherry ("none of that silly wine you girls keep stealing." “yeah, sorry about that.”), and you'd talk about everything and nothing.

you told her about your boutique—at the time—dream, about learning to make jewelry from an old hippie who read tarot cards on the boardwalk. she spoke of art acquisitions and board meetings, but sometimes, when the night grew soft and heavy around you, she'd share pieces of herself that felt like an easy glimpse into your future.

mel noticed, of course she did.

"mum’s different with you," she said one afternoon, watching you apply coconut oil to your sun-warmed skin by the pool. her voice was careful, measured in a way that made your stomach twist. "she actually laughs at your jokes. she never laughs at anyone's jokes."

you hummed noncommittally, pretending to be absorbed in moisturizing. but you could feel mel's eyes on you, the same sharp gaze she'd inherited from her mother, taking in how you'd started wearing your nicest pajama sets to your nighttime wanderings, how you'd borrowed one of her expensive face creams "just to test it out."

during the days, you'd lounge in the massive gardens with mel, your skin deepening to further in the english sun while she talked less and less about her boyfriend's drama and more about how strange it was to see her mother so… present. but at night – at night you belonged to the library, to raspy-voiced conversations and loaded silences, to the way ambessa's eyes would trace the crescent of your folded body, the arch of your neck, the fullness of your lips.

"you're nothing like i expected," she said one night, two months in, her voice low and intimate in the darkness. you were sprawled on the persian rug, head tipped back against a leather armchair, humming some alternative song under your breath. your skin glowed warm and rich in the lamplight, a sharp contrast to the pale marble and cream walls surrounding you.

"oh?" you looked up at her through your lashes, feeling brave from the whiskey and the late hour. "what did you expect?"

"someone more like mel's other friends. polished. proper." her lips curved around the words as if they amused her. "not this beautiful little creature in threadbare pajamas, so full of freedom and self-assuredness. you hold your own."

beautiful. the word hung in the air between you, dangerous and flickering. like the growing tension you felt whenever mel watched you both at dinner, her eyes narrowing at each shared glance, each lingering moment. you sat up slowly, your movements sluggish and dream-like.

"i don’t. not really. you make me nervous, but i learned early on how to fake it."

her eyes met yours in the dim light, and the air flooded with something thick and heady. your body felt electric. behind you, a floorboard creaked – mel, you'd realize later, watching from the doorway with dawning understanding.

but in that moment, all you could see was ambessa, all you could feel was the weight of what was building between you, an avalanche you were both choosing to let bury you.

in a matter of minutes, she had her hands on you, your back against her firm chest with two fingers tucked inside of your cunt. your legs sprawled open, your pussy blossoming with arousal like rain on roses.

she was softer than you’d imagined, but it was almost relieving. the tenderness did more for you anyway, sent your pulse more freely throughout your body.

you bucked your hips as heat spiraled up from the base of your spine. ambessa pressed you back down, fingers gripping deeply into your thighs.

“no,” she murmured. “stay down.”

you were nestled into her lap, her fingers milking you gently as you arched. your voice seemed caught in your throat, your neck extended in expectation of a kiss. she indulged you, mouth capturing yours while her thumb slipped past your thatch of curls to play with your clit.

the kiss was wet and sloppy, uncoordinated as a result of your jerking body. still, she fed from you reaping kiss after kiss, suckling at your tongue. she groaned into your lips as you threaded a harsh hand into her hair, pining her face against yours.

in response, she inserted a third finger. you let out a high moan at the added stimulation, rooting a hand around her neck to better fuck yourself down. she laughed lightly at your desire, pumping faster until your cunt dribbled gratitude down her knuckles.

“there you go, sweet girl,” she cooed and you shivered.

you suddenly understood cults and their leaders, how special you could feel when their attention was laved over you. you were trying your best to remain quiet, thick thighs trembling as she fucked you a little harder. your tits were bouncing as you met her thrusts and she hid her face into your neck, sucking and biting lightly.

with a muffled squeal you came, squirting lavishly all over where the two of you were locked together. true to her nature, ambessa didn’t give you a moment. with an efficient maneuver, she slid you around and on top of her. it was then that you realized she was naked, robe hanging open at her sides. you weren’t given a second to admire her.

instead, she tucked you into her and kissed you as she extended her legs out and settled you onto her warm cunt. you collapsed fully into her, face buried in the soft crevice of her heavy tits. she let out a slight hum of satisfaction as she slotted your clits together, hooking a leg over you to better increase the spread of your puffy pussy. eventually, you understood the intention and began to rock steadily against her.

the friction was heavenly and you clutched her tightly, burrowing into her broad body as you chased your pleasure. ambessa was just as frantic, snapping up with a hand anchored into your hair. your silk scarf had fallen long ago but you didn’t worry about it. all that mattered was her deep groans of pleasure and the way she kept fucking up against you.

“fuck, honey,” she murmured and you wanted to tell her that you knew, that you understood.

but you couldn’t. you were rendered pathetic by the threat of your second orgasm and settled for cumming inside of her with a wet wail. you could feel her legs shaking but you knew she hadn’t finished, and with a great groan you slid off of her.

stumbling slightly, you stood and rearranged so that you were kneeling in between the apex of her legs with your ass high in the air. as you dripped onto the carpet you began to lap at her and reached a hand up to twist and pinch at her nipples, alternating between her tits.

her breath began to shudder, her chest heaving as she ground down on her tongue. it only took a couple more broad strokes up her pussy and a relentless circling of her clit for her to finish, the liquid dowsing your nose and chin. the spray was thick and warm.

pleased, you hummed into her and started the whole thing up again. she cried out, legs closing around you in a suffocating crush.

not once did you let go.

𓇼

the fight had been brutal. even now, the memory makes your stomach churn—leaves you flinching, sick, and unsteady.

“jesus, [name],” mel’s voice had been sharp, cutting through the quiet. “you’re playing house with my fucking mother.”

“mel—”

“no!” she snapped, her words laced with disbelief and venom. “i can’t believe you. what? are you just desperate? taking whatever scraps you can get? ‘but i love her, melly!’”

her voice pitched high, mocking, cruel in a way you’d never heard before.

“i mean, my god, just go to therapy. don’t go fucking my mother!”

your hand cracked against her cheek before you even registered the motion.

“fuck you,” you spat, trembling, the tears hot and blinding.

she staggered back a step, wide-eyed and disbelieving. you mirrored her shock, your palm still stinging. the silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the harsh sound of both your breaths. ambessa had stepped out moments before—it was just the two of you now, suspended in the aftermath.

her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came.

your ticket was booked that afternoon, your bag packed by evening. you were gone before the sun had fully set.

𓇼

you close the shop early, your hands moving automatically as the weight of the day presses down on you.

the steady drag on your vape blurs the edges of your thoughts, a small comfort that does nothing to ease the growing ache in your chest. by the time you arrive home, the haze has lifted, but it leaves behind a sharp clarity: you’re alone. sadder than anything. the kind of heartbroken that settles deep in your bones and brings you down, quiet and constant like a low hum you can’t escape.

so you’re surprised when you’re met with a sleek range rover loitering in the parking lot outside your apartment complex.

you didn’t expect to see her this soon. or ever. didn’t want to. three weeks of silence, of space between you both, and you thought you were okay with it. you’d been fine with the quiet, with the absence. but there she is.

mel is right outside your building, sitting pretty and cross-legged in the backseat, the car’s headlights casting long, soft shadows over the cracked pavement. ambessa is sitting in the passenger seat, her face illuminated by the glow from the dashboard, and something about the way she holds herself makes it clear that she’s on the edge. she probably didn’t even want to do this. maybe she’d flown here for mel. maybe mel had flown here for you.

your chest tightens as you stand there, frozen for a moment, caught between the impulse to walk away and the need to understand what’s brought them here. you don’t move, just watch.

the undiscovered truth is that ambessa’s done this for both of you.

mel’s been struggling without you. she’s noticed it; this is her daughter after all. mel hasn’t said it outright, but ambessa can see it in the way her shoulders slump when she talks to anyone else, the small, tired smiles that don’t reach her eyes. she’s miserable without her best friend. and then—gradually—ambessa realized how much she needed you, too. wanted you.

the air between you and the car is heavy with guilt and longing. you can see it in mel’s face, too—how much she loves her mother, how she wants this to be different, even if she doesn’t quite know how to fix it.

and you? you feel a bit numb. maybe it’s the dredges of your vanilla buzz. the sadness in your chest, the loneliness, the quiet hope that maybe—just maybe—this could still work? it’s half dead, half living. you can’t tell if you’re ready to talk, to face what’s been left unsaid for so long. but you know one thing for sure: you’ve missed them both.

you keep standing there, rooted to the spot, watching the car like it’s some kind of omen. the silence feels louder than anything you’ve heard in weeks. ambessa remains in the passenger seat, her gaze distant, like she’s trying to work through something too. you don’t know what it is—whether it’s the weight of her possible regret or the silent pressure she’s putting on her daughter.

mel shifts in her seat, and then, before you can even brace yourself, she’s out of the car, the door slamming shut behind her. she’s standing in front of you now, her eyes wide with something that looks like hesitation.

“i didn’t know where else to go,” she says, her voice quiet but raw.

you don’t know what to say. the words that have been sitting in your throat for weeks suddenly seem impossible to spit out. you want to scream, to ask her why she didn’t come sooner, why it took so long. but all you can do is stand there, your chest tight and aching.

“you don’t have to say anything,” mel continues, her eyes darting between your face and the ground. “i just… i didn’t know what else to do. my mom’s…” she trails off, and there’s something in her voice—something that sounds like both love and frustration.

“she’s been miserable without you. i’ve been miserable without you.”

the admission hangs between you, thick and vulnerable. your breath catches in your throat. you didn’t know how much you missed her until this moment. you want to reach out, to pull her close, but you don’t. the ground between you both feels too fragile. finally, you speak.

“you deserve an apology too,” you croak out. “i shouldn’t have gone behind your back and i sure as hell should have never fucking hit you. it was unacceptable and i’m sorry, melly.”

her eyes grow bright and glassy with tears. she nods.

“i’m not going to say it’s fine because it’s not. but thank you for apologizing.”

you nod, resigned to another night of crying yourself to sleep.

i realized,” mel says wetly, “before this whole thing i’d never—i’d never seen you in love. i’ve never seen you that happy. i’m sorry for mocking that especially since you’ve never had that before, and it’s all you’ve ever wanted.”

you shrug, looking away.

“it’s how i’ve been living.”

before mel can say anything else, ambessa opens her door and steps out of the car. she’s quiet, her movements deliberate, but there’s something gentle in the way she walks toward you. she stops just a foot away, and without a word, she closes the gap and cups your face in her hands, her palms warm against your skin.

you blink, the shock of her touch overwhelming.

“i can’t believe you’re here,” you tell her, your voice cracking down the middle. “have you even been to california before?”

and it’s so stupid to say when you haven’t fucking seen her in months, haven’t stopped loving her for days, but ambessa only smiles. her eyes soften as she leans in, her lips brushing your forehead in a delicate.

“i’ve only ever tasted it,” she murmurs, her breath warm against your skin.

© hcneymooners.

⚚ special taglist: @astarcalledtala @sugrcookiiee @16novvs @tnash-tammy @dyk3miffy @iwasholic @fruitfulfashion @absandsevikasgirl @blackdykegirlblogger @fortluocha @neganwifey25-blog @rottngrl3

[justheblueberry]

I Wish You Were My Husband by Feynite

book & clamshell box for @towns-end-bindery for the Renegade California Mini Exchange!!! THE REVEAL!!!! wow its been so long since i started this it feels kind of unreal haha

this exchange sent me on a journey through so many lovely fics and new fandoms that were a delight to explore! i have Learned Things about svsss and honestly the more i hear the more excited i am to (eventually!!) finally read it

about the bind itself, it was a bit of a ride. i learned like 5 new skills in total, including:

- cover cutouts

- suminagashi edges

- my first book box!!

- chisel trimming edges by myself, which, um, definitely couldve gone better but it was fine after a few hours of sanding

- using REAL TOOLS???? lost count how many times i forgot i have a bone folder and made my book arts teacher take psychic damage

i fiddled with the typeset for several months, but in the end finished the book like a month early. so naturally my hubris rose from the dead and decided that making my first box would be a great idea!

i finished it with like 12 hours to spare before i was heading to the airport because i never learn

big thanks to fran for organizing this and congrats to everyone participating!!! WE CAME!!!

[astroravi]

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[lizardsfromspace]

Sylvia Browne was one of the most famous psychics of the turn of the millennium, and one of its most despicable. You may remember her from when she told the mother of Amanda Berry her daughter was deceased, which she believed, and she died believing that...but Barry was alive the whole time. Or from the dozens of other times she did something similar

Sylvia Browne released her predictions for the new year every year, like many psychics, but she was stupid enough to keep them online so people could judge them later. Her predictions for the year 2000 include Bill Bradley beating out the Reform Party for the Presidency (he lost the primary to Al Gore, and the Reform Party finished fourth, behind the Green Party with less than half a million votes), that David Letterman would retire (he stayed with the show for 15 more years), that small businesses would flourish in the 2000s, and that Donald Trump will not have a career in politics. Which did technically come true in that he didn't run in 2000, but uh

Also, from reading these at the time, she predicted the big one in California and the death of the Pope nearly every year. Only a keen psychic mind could predict that a man in his eighties could pass away from old age

There's one year she left out, though. She wiped her 2001 predictions from the internet...and her 9/12/2001 predictions. But thankfully, someone preserved them (they're not in the Wayback Machine bc its only 2001 save is in October. And apparently the thing below was a pop-up)

Let's unpack this

She says bin Laden was behind it. An amazing prediction, except she posted this a few days after 9/11, when the media was already speculating he was responsible

She was "given information", which I guess is a way to phrase "watched CNN"

She just makes up a country. She says 9/11 was done by the "Palestinian Republic of Bundi". I can find forum threads from then wondering what the fuck she meant, and all these years later it's still baffling

Did she mean Burundi? A country in Southeastern Africa? There's villages named Bundi in Iran and India, but I can't even begin to imagine what she was even imagining, or why she didn't even begin to stop imagining it

"Triad of Jordan" also turns up nothing

The first name she mentioned just brings up Linkedin pages.

The second only turns up this post. Neither of those names seems to exist in any language

She tried to explain why she didn't predict 9/11, by saying she's not omniscient, and she warned of terrorism...in 1999. But that article I linked dug up her 1999 predictions, bc she left them online, and she said there'd be terrorism...in Florida and London

At the end of this, she takes care to note that 9/11 will NOT stop the Sylvia Browne cruise through Greece and Turkey!!

She saw 9/11, and rushed to make a statement trying to explain why the spirits didn't show her 9/11, and also make up a few countries to blame 9/11 on. Then she sold a cruise, deleted the page, and wrote a book claiming everyone who died on 9/11 was led there to die by their spirit guide to be martyrs to bring patriotism back. I'm glad we don't have celebrity TV psychics anymore but I almost miss them. Simply not justice in how she got off scot-free and our passive aggressive, intermittently-Jamaican queen Miss Cleo got nabbed

[floralcyanidee]

ɪ sᴇᴇ ғɪʀᴇ - ᴊ. ʀᴏʙᴇʀᴛ ᴏᴘᴘᴇɴʜᴇɪᴍᴇʀ

Cillian!Oppenheimer x AFAB!Reader (NSFW)

request: scientist reader and Oppenheimer have sm sexual tension between them and trying to hide their feelings for each other cause they're colleagues but then when the Manhattan Project comes up and they both work on it together it just gets too much to handle. by @aporiasposts

disclaimer: this is a work of fanfiction. cillian's representation of oppenheimer is also fictional to a degree. if you dislike this kind of fanfiction, please keep scrolling and do not interact with this post. otherwise, have a lovely day. ♥

warnings: smut, penetrative sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, multiple positions used, mutual pining, years of sexual tension

word count: 2090

author’s note: please read the disclaimer several times if you must before you decide to comment something snarky or send a dense anonymous ask. (: this is my first time writing smut for Robert so it was interesting!! I rather enjoyed it and I think I'm going to finish the other smut I was going to write for him. also, I changed the request details a little. reader is a historian/ political scientist of sorts instead of a scientist. I feel like there is a lot of scientist!reader fics out there and wanted to be a little different haha. I hope everyone enjoys!

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Having a doctorate in history has led you to places you never thought possible. One of those places ended up being the University of California - Berkeley. You were given the opportunity to lecture there with some of the brightest minds in the country- one of them being physicist Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer. Your disciplines differed but had the same solid foundation of facts, evidence, and logic. Needing to see things to believe it for yourself was one thing the two of you had in common, which brought you together. You were interested in his lectures and as he was yours. Both of you have learned a lot from each other and have become good friends. However, there were times when you would interact, and it felt intense. You’d grade papers together in comfortable silence, sometimes stealing glances at one another. Whenever you caught Robert staring, you’d give him a small, knowing smile. When he caught you staring, he’d hold your gaze, which made you nervous. 

You enjoyed attending Robert’s political discussions after class to see how passionate he was about current issues. Dr. Lawrence, your other beloved colleague, often warned you to avoid them, but you ignored him. The energy you’d feel toward Robert every time he’d rant about how every person deserves the freedom and the right to choose was electric. It was the very basis of your beliefs as a historian and a professor. The two of you would often go for a cigarette in the courtyard between classes to enjoy the fresh air and discuss politics. Robert loved hearing your stance on things, especially since you knew your stuff about the history of politics and how things work with them. The tensions were high that day, and before you knew it, Robert leaned into you as you spoke. But before anything could happen, it was time for classes to resume. So you went your respective ways. 

When you were contacted by the government to assist on a top-secret project, you were shocked. They needed your expertise in politics and history, as well as your reading and writing skills. You asked if Robert would be involved due to his talent in psychics, but you got no answer. You didn’t take long to learn of Dr. Lawrence’s involvement in the project, and you were ecstatic to have someone you knew tagging along. He was worried about Robert not being present for the Manhattan Project simply because of his mutual and close friends being communists. You insisted you’d speak to Robert about the matter, but Ernest objected. However, after a meeting about the Spanish Revolution that Robert had held, Ernest blew up on him. He mentioned there was a project and that Robert wasn’t allowed on it as long as he was sticking his nose in communist politics. So, Robert stopped the meetings, and sure enough, General Leslie Groves eventually poked his way into Robert’s office one afternoon to discuss the Project. 

Now, the three of you were involved and had to leave Berkeley. Robert quickly assumed the position of Project leader and already had a location picked out for the Project headquarters. You had heard many stories of this location from him and demanded he take you to it before construction began. You and Robert left Berkeley and traveled to Los Alamos via horse, talking and laughing the whole time about your childhoods and times in school. You both decided to camp there overnight and enjoy the desert and its beautiful sky before dealing with the most significant project in human history. As you sat by the fire that night with Robert, you stared at the sky in wonder. Robert watched you with just as much wonder, enjoying seeing you smile. Because pretty soon, there wouldn’t be much to smile about.

By the time you had moved into Los Alamos and started getting to work, the tension between you and Robert was becoming impalpable. The camping trip solidified whatever was going on between you two- even if it was nothing at all as of right now. Robert ensured you were at every meeting so you could give your two cents if it was needed; you were the brains and the empathy of the project. Gen. Groves admired you for it because no matter how steep the project was getting, you never once panicked or got in over your head. He also admired how you managed to keep your hands off Robert despite how you looked at him. And one day, he mentioned it to you.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get out of here?” Gen. Groves asked you one day during a field test.

“Oh, uh,” you hadn’t given it much thought, “I’m not sure. Probably continue lecturing.”

“No one special in your life you want to be with?” Groves asked, a kind smile on his face.

“Not really,” you mumbled sadly, your eyes glanced over at Robert, “Not yet, anyway.”

“Maybe once all of this is over, you can pursue them,” Groves suggested knowingly, “We’re so close now. It won’t be long.”

You nodded, seeing that he knew who was on your mind just by how he studied you, “Maybe.”

After all the hard work and growing sexual tension over the tedious years at Los Alamos, the bubble separating you and Robert finally burst the morning of the Trinity Test. The test was a success, and Robert was basking in the afterglow. Everything from getting his hand shaken to being carried by the crowd of excited and ecstatic workers- it brought him some relief. There’s always sunshine before the rain. 

You invited Robert over to your quaint house on the outskirts of Los Alamos for your nightly glass of wine, but this time it was heavier. It was more meaningful because you finally accomplished what you’d been working so hard for. When Robert sat next to you on the chaise next to the fireplace, his leg touched yours. The sexual energy was like a thick, wet blanket. You took large gulps of your wine as Robert’s eyes stared into yours, his glass pressed to his lips with slower sips.

“I can’t believe it’s all over,” you shook your head.

“Me either.”

“What do we do now? What’s life after this going to be like?”

“I’m not sure about that,” Robert had set his wine down on the floor, “But I’m sure about something else.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, polishing off your drink.

“You.”

You slowly sat back up after putting your empty glass on the floor by your feet, “Me?”

“Yes,” Robert paused, “Ever since I met you, I’ve wanted you in ways I can’t explain. And I can usually explain anything.”

You chuckled at that, nodding in agreement, “That you can.”

Robert leaned in, and your smile faltered. His hand reached up to touch your cheek gently, his thumb pushing some of your hair out of the way. Your eyes fluttered shut as you waited with bated breath for Robert to finally, finally kiss you. It had been years of waiting now. And the second his lips pressed to yours, all that time seemed to drift away. There was an explosion in your chest at the feeling of Robert pressing against you on the chaise, pushing you down onto its cushions. His coat and tie have long since been discarded, so all you have to do is worry at the buttons of his shirt with your shaking fingers. Eventually, you get the shirt opened and off his slender frame as it hovered over you. Robert let his skillful tongue slip past your lips with ease, exploring every centimeter of your mouth. How you had longed for this moment.

“Need you, Robert,” you pulled away for air and sighed as his hands pushed up your legs and underneath your dress, “Always have.”

“I’m here, darling. I’m here now.”

Robert shoved the skirt of your dress over your hips and stomach, revealing your slowly soaking white and dainty underwear. He hummed in satisfaction when his finger circled the wet spot at your entrance, causing a moan to leave your lips.

“Eager, are we?” he teased, pulling down your underwear without hesitation.

“Yes,” you said bravely, “Now, nothing fancy tonight. We have plenty of time for other things, but for now, I need you inside me.”

“Alright then,” Robert chuckles, hastily unbuckling his slacks before pushing them far enough down his legs to be comfortable.

He glided his tip along your slickness, gathering all he could to push inside you with less friction. You whined at the contact, a wanton moan escaping you suddenly as he moved into you at a patient pace. But you were anything but patient, especially at this point. You pushed your hips, causing Robert to enter you further, to which he let out a delicious groan. His hands gripped your sides intensely, sure to leave bruises tomorrow. He buried his face in your neck, his teeth baring down into the skin as he felt you suck his cock in. 

“Wanted- needed this for so long,” Robert whispered in your ear as his tip finally brushed against your insides.

“God, me too,” you cried out when he slowly pulled back out and then slammed back into you, “Fuck.”

“Such a dirty mouth,” Robert tutted playfully, to which you flashed him a smile, moving your hips to wiggle him further inside you.

Robert had thrust himself into you again, this time a little faster than the last. He kept doing this until he had a steady rhythm, lifting your legs to put on his shoulders to get a better angle. You growled at the sensation of him hitting your cervix, and your hands scratched down his back. Robert picked up speed, almost making the chaise scoot on the floor. He was fucking you like mad, and you were taking every second of it like his cock was water and you were thirsting in the desert. In this situation, the figure of speech wasn’t too far from the truth. The feeling of him repeatedly steering into your stomach made you nearly squeal from pleasure. Robert presses your thighs to your shoulders, the undersides of them against his chest. You were a mess, moaning like a whore and gripping Robert as if you blinked hard enough, he’d disappear.

“Taking me like such a good girl,” Robert grunted, moving a hand to your cunt to swipe at your clit in time with his thrusts.

You tossed your head back, crying out at the sensation. No one had ever fucked you with such vigor and passion. You felt that growing bubble in your gut, expecting it to burst any second.

“Cum in me,” you demanded, “Need to feel you.”

Robert laughed breathlessly at you, “Are you sure?”

“Certain.”

And as if he weren’t going fast enough, he pulled out, flipped you over, and took you from behind even faster than before. Robert pushed your cheek into the chaise cushion, watching you as you side-eyed him with utmost pleasure. You could feel yourself clenching around him, your orgasm creeping up. Robert pushed your lower back down as far as it’d go, your stomach flush with the material of the chaise underneath you. Your ass being in the air caused Robert to hit a new spot inside you, sending you reeling and spilling over the edge. As your cunt suffocated his cock with its walls, Robert followed your release with his own. His hot cum filled you up with warmth, your hips still bouncing against him. Robert panted from behind you, slowly pulling himself out of your now-dripping pussy. 

You rolled back onto your back, now facing Robert, “That was… wow,” you exhaled.

“I concur,” Robert joked, sitting back and pulling you onto his lap.

You hummed in exhaustion, blissed out as you hung your head on his shoulder.

“Want to stay?” you asked tiredly, eyeing the now-spilled remainder of wine Robert had placed on the floor earlier. You’d worry about it tomorrow.

“I’d love to,” Robert muttered into your ear, kissing it before picking you up off his lap.

The rest of your night is spent watching Robert study you as you lay beside each other in bed. He took you in as if he was seeing you in a new perspective- and he was. Robert was as curious about you as he was about the world and how it worked. Except now, he had to worry about not destroying you like he had the world.

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