#a connection that cannot be unseen

[tangibletechnomancy]

[dwellsinparadise]

Pretend, for example, that you were born in Chicago and have never had the remotest desire to visit Hong Kong, which is only a name on a map for you; pretend that some convulsion, sometimes called accident, throws you into connection with a man or a woman who lives in Hong Kong; and that you fall in love. Hong Kong will immediately cease to be a name and become the center of your life. And you may never know how many people live in Hong Kong. But you will know that one man or one woman lives there without whom you cannot live. And this is how our lives are changed, and this is how we are redeemed.

What a journey this life is! Dependent, entirely, on things unseen. If your lover lives in Hong Kong and cannot get to Chicago, it will be necessary for you to go to Hong Kong. Perhaps you will spend your life there, and never see Chicago again. And you will, I assure you, as long as space and time divide you from anyone you love, discover a great deal about shipping routes, airlines, earth quake, famine, disease, and war. And you will always know what time it is in Hong Kong, for you love someone who lives there. And love will simply have no choice but to go into battle with space and time and, furthermore, to win.

—James Baldwin, The Price of the Ticket

[anarchist-rat-swarm]

Got an interesting take on eldritch horror for all you writers out there. It's a bit of a roundabout schlep to reach the actual idea, but writers tend to be readers so I hold you'll stick with me til we get there.

So, consider a 2D creature. Little flat dude, living on the ground. No concept of "up" or "down." He's 2D, he just doesn't parse the concepts and can't perceive them anyways.

He sees you. What he actually sees is just the 2D cross section of you where you intersect with his 2D world, which is probably your footprints. So, as far as he can tell, you are a pair of footprints that are.... apparently one being? He doesn't get how it works exactly, but it's not too far out there, so he just kind of accepts that, yes, humans are The Two That Are One. Spooky. They always seem to use the singular to refer to the pair of themselves, and only differentiate between themselves as Left or Right. But other paired instances of The Two That Are One are, in fact, separate entities. So they're only in sets of two, unless accompanied by a companion called "Cane," which they are sometimes, or even a pair of companions called "Crutches." When Crutches are present, sometimes one of The Two That Are One will be missing entirely. It's a little confusing.

But wait, what now? They disappear and reappear in sequence, teleporting in turns. He never sees them just move like a 2D being, always the stop-start teleporting. Apparently this strange power is called "walking," and its accomplished by The Two That Are One moving through an unseen dimension called "Up," through a process called "lifting" themselves and re-entering the real world farther away in the direction they wanted to go. He can accept the idea of unseen dimensions, and he vaguely gets the idea that one of The Two That Are One must remain anchored in the real world to prevent something called "falling," which is some kind of uncontrolled movement through the unperceivable dimension of "Down." Which is the same dimension as "Up," but...... backwards? Reversed? He's not really clear, but "Falling Down" is presumably bad, so The Two That Are One keep one of themselves here in the real world to prevent it.

Except if they do something called "jumping." Which consists of gathering up their power to hurl themselves through the Up dimension together to reappear together somewhere else in the real world. He isn't sure why they Walk instead of Jump, since it seems better to take both of The Two That Are One together at the same time, but okay.

Okay, what the hell, they can Walk through impenetrable barriers like the great wall of Sidewalk Chalk? How do they go through that? What? They went "Over?" The hell is "Over?" Like 'around' but through the unseen dimension of Up? But they couldn't Walk through the barrier of Wall. Why could they go "Over" Sidewalk Chalk but not Wall?

And they can't go between the four small obstacles of Refrigerator Feet. The area between them is safe from The Two That Are One, for the four Refrigerator Feet are connected to each other in the strange and eldritch dimension of Up. The barriers are too powerful to be moved by The Two That Are One, and it (they?) cannot enter the real world where it is blocked by such powerful forces.

Got all that?

Okay, now consider a 4 dimensional elder god and how we 3D entities would perceive them.

[blackwaxidol]

the scar Valin has on his jaw from when Drone had a muscle tremour shaving his face... the jagged black line along Drone's left palm where her blade cut into her silicone flesh so deeply it bounced off her titanium metacarpus.

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Remade (Sauron x fem!Elf!reader)

-> in which you nurse Sauron back into his physical form, eager to be reunited with your great love once more

Warnings: I somehow managed to write fluff with goo!Sauron, I guess? You hold and kiss goo!Sauron. You suffer a minor injury by goo!Sauron. You get animals and one person killed to feed goo!Sauron. Heavy make out and implied smut (with non-goo!Sauron). Can you tell I love writing the words ‘goo!Sauron’?

Note: Yet another Sauron x evil!reader fic cause I can’t stop apparently. Can be read as a prequel to the others or as a stand alone.

“Oh, my love,” you breathe out, “what have they done to you?”

What have they done indeed. For you are speaking with the one that is your love, your husband, your very soul—but if he hears, or even understands, he cannot show it. What’s left of him has no mouth no speak, no arms to wrap around you at long last, after an eternity of separation. What your tearful eyes are looking at is a black, amorphous mass, no larger than the heart hammering within your chest, writhing helplessly on the ground.

But it is him. Of that, you are certain.

When you felt his presence again, it was so faint you thought you were dreaming it. Nothing but a glimmer of darkness in the back of your mind, weakly calling out in agony. But as you searched your feelings, reaching out with every sliver of power you could muster, you found that it was real.

You found him.

Long had you travelled since, guided by the unseen thread connecting you to him. Until at last, it had led you into the heart of a mountain where his presence was so strong, it felt as though his skin was beneath your fingertips.

And yet, he was nowhere to be seen. Not until a sharp squeal had caught your ear, and you had found the source of it to be a rat being devoured into the blackness of a small, but lethal predator. At once, you had understood, and nearly fallen into despair. But in the end, you reminded yourself—he has endured. You have been reunited. That is all that matters.

Slowly, you kneel at his side. The mass ripples like the surface of water under a light breeze, and it gives you hope that, somehow, your presence is known to him. A sole rivulet of him begins to slip towards you, painfully slow. No wonder he has been in this state for so long, helpless to nourish himself lest some unfortunate creature stumbles upon him in the dark.

“I am here,” you whisper as you reach out. “I am—”

The moment your fingertips touch his cold, viscous form, black tendrils of him latch onto your hand, greedily clawing at your wrist. You gasp at the unexpected force of it, the searing sting where the liquid-like matter solidifies to dig sharp needles into your skin. Beads of your blood emerge, and he swallows them into himself with hunger.

You stare in awe as he grows ever so slightly larger. A twisted part of you is elated to be the object of his craving once more, even if he is trying to devour you whole. Especially then.

Unfortunately, that would not do in the long-term.

You shush him gently, caressing him with your free hand as though he were a purring kitten. Instantly, a tendril of him latches to one of your fingers, but you give him a firm squeeze.

“Shh!” you say sharply, fingers sinking into the soft surface of him as you reach out with your mind as well, nudging at his. “Easy, love,” you coo. “Easy. You know this hand. You know me.”

His mind is a mess—mad with hunger, alight with rage, lost to despair. But you keep caressing it with yours, tenderly bringing to the surface his memories of you. His love. His wife.

His grip on you weakens then. He deflates, withdrawing himself from your wounds, and you are left with a soft, pliant mass, which you delicately scoop into the palm of your hands. He rocks slightly against your skin, almost as if caressing it—and through your bond, the ghost of his regret reaches out to you.

“Do not fret, my love,” you murmur, smiling gently. “All will be well now.”

And so you go to dwell in the forest. At first, you bring him small things, no larger than he is himself—insects and rats, the occasional snake. The venomous ones seem to be quite nourishing, aiding in his growth more visibly than the other animals you feed him. Still, the progress is slow, and could not be endured without a great deal of patience and love. Fortunately, you lack neither.

Days turn to weeks, perhaps months. You don’t keep count, nor do you miss the comforts of the Elven realm where you had dwelt for years, waiting on the day your husband might return. A tent and your skills are more than enough when you finally have your love by your side, even if he is... temporarily different. You always keep him close, cradling him protectively at night and speaking loving words to him throughout the day. And in his own way, with ripples of his form and distant echoes of his slowly recovering mind, he holds onto you.

Eventually, he grows large enough for you to embrace at night, and develops a certain manner of breathing that feels as though you’re resting your head upon his chest. Its rise and fall is odd, ragged and irregular, but it brings you great joy nonetheless. With time, you bring him larger game, watching with grim amazement as deers and wild boars are slowly devoured into the beloved black mass that still is your husband. After a time, he grows nearly limb-like extensions, allowing him to more easily crawl around or reach out, and you often wake to find yourself in the closest thing to an embrace he can manage in this state. It never fails to make your heart soar, and he shudders as you press loving kisses to the parts of his surface closest to you.

So the days pass, until it’s time. Between your own instinct and the shape of his thoughts, not quite spoken but slightly more focused through your bond, you know he’s strong enough to finally regain himself completely.

But for that, he will need something more than an animal.

It’s easy enough to stop the first wagon you see passing by, acting confused and lost and asking for direction. The woman at the reins, though half-drunk, is even gracious enough to offer that she give you a ride to the closest village. You decline, of course. Your purpose was never to climb into the wagon yourself.

It was to halt it long enough for your husband to slither inside from the back.

It’s barely a few seconds after the woman has bid you a good journey and gone on her way that the wagon halts yet again—this time, with a piercing scream from its occupant. The wagon shakes, its horse breaking loose and galloping away.

Then, silence settles. From your angle, you can’t see inside. Your feet are glued in place, your breath barely there as you watch and wait. You’ve been waiting so long that now, so close to the end of your suffering, each moment feels neverending.

Finally—finally—a man emerges from the back of the wagon. He takes his time putting one bare foot, then the other, down onto the snow-covered ground. He takes in his surroundings, as though opening his eyes to the world for the first time. Then his gaze lands on you, and his lips curl into a smile filled with relief.

And you know, you’ve always known, but it feels as though you only then realize that this is not a man. Or an Elf, or a Dwarf, or any other being of less than godly nature. It is him. Remade into a form with eyes, and hands, and flesh, same as your own.

Your feet carry you towards him blindly as you stare and stare, almost unable to believe that you are finally standing close enough to touch once more.

“I would not blame you,” he says, his unfamiliar voice rough from lack of use, “if it was you who failed to recognize me now.”

But you know it’s absurd. His appearance may not be as it used to—his hair is shorter, darker, his cheeks covered in stubble, his features nothing like the ones you knew—but there is no form he could take you would not recognize, not as long as your mind still served you. His had been broken, unamde, when he had begun to feed on you as he would any other stranger. None of that matters now.

“This is... different,” you murmur, greedily taking in every inch of him that isn’t covered by the rags he’s wearing. His chest is partially bared to your eyes, and both of your breaths shudder as you lay your hand over his new heart, the smattering of hair there delightfully rough beneath your fingertips. You gaze there for a moment, mesmerized by the sight, then lift your eyes to meet his. The curls that fall in his face are so endearing your chest aches as you brush one aside.

“I love it,” you breathe out. “I love you.”

A dam that had been built over years of longing shatters at your words, and your lips meet his furiously in a long-awaited kiss. His looks may have changed, but his taste is the same, and so is the desire that overwhelms you to the point of insanity. You’re falling into each other, clawing at each other, crumbling to the ground in an unceremonious tangle of limbs. The snow is cold against your back, but your husband is warm and solid above you, and your world becomes reduced to him and him alone.

You whimper when he suddenly pulls away, chest heaving as he gazes down at you with raw yearning.

“You came for me,” he says, breathless with elation.

“Of course I did,” you retort, nearly indignated. As if you would do anything but. He goes to kiss you again, but you wrap a hand around his throat and hold him back. Mischief dances in your eyes as he glares and you scold, “And in return, you nearly ate me.”

His eyes darken, and you almost moan at the sight alone.

“I still wish to,” he growls, prying your hand away from his neck and diving in to devour yours instead. “All those years I hungered...” he speaks between ravenous licks and bites of your skin, making you writhe and whimper beneath him, “to feel you once more... even when I could no longer remember... what it was I hungered for...” He lifts his head, wild eyes boring into yours as he lays his hand upon your chest, relishing your heartbeat as you had done his before. “My love,” he pleads, voice trembling with need, “join me in flesh. Let me feast upon yours. Devour mine. Remind me what it is... to feel.”

The last time you felt such unbridled joy was so long ago, you can’t even remember it. And either way, you doubt it held a candle to the bliss bursting within your soul in this moment. This is all you ever wanted. This makes every single moment of torment, past or future, worth it.

“Feel me, love,” you offer most sweetly, your lips brushing his with the last words you speak before you consume each other whole, “Feel everything.”

Next fic with same reader -> Tides of fate

[luvhughes43]

the boy is mine | quinn hughes

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌙]

summary: yn meets quinn hughes and is instantly captivated by him, leading to him inspiring and starring in her new single "the boy is mine"

word count: 2.8k

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📍brighter days studios

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yourusername soooooon ;)

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user01 our soon??

liked by yourusername

user02 love you !!! cannot wait to see what youre working on

user03 you guys... quinn hughes liked this...

user04 NEW MUSIC?? OHH IM UP.

user05 i'm seated. the record store employees are scared and asking me to leave because "it's not even out yet" but im simply too seated.

6 MONTHS EARLIER

how can it be? you and me

might be meant to be, can't unseen it

but i don't wanna cause no scene

im usually so unproblematic

so independent, tell me why

'cause the boy is mine, mine

it was supposed to be for album promotion. sitting in the stands at rogers arena - right behind the home bench so the camera had easy access to see your dazzling face as the game unfolded in front of you. "he's kind of cute," your best friend courtney leans in towards you, pointing out one of the players only a few feet away from you behind the glass.

HUGHES. 43.

you study his side profile for a second - not giving him any real attention. you were here strictly on business and if people started suspecting you were eyeing somebody who was rumoured to be in a relationship (you checked) you knew that your publicist would call you in distress.

"i think hes taken," you whisper back, nervously eyeing the people sitting around you.

courtney nudges you with a small chuckle, "you checked?"

you playfully nudge her back, before settling back into your seat. to tell the truth, you were on a strict "no dating" rule ever since your ex boyfriend ran his mouth to page six detailing how you "cheated" on him with someone in a relationship. it wasn't a true story of course, but everyone flocked to the headlines anyway as an excuse to call you horrid names and say i just never liked her anyway!

hughes turns around then, and you feel your breath hitch as the speakers call out your name and your flushed face is plastered across the jumbotron. "you so like him," courtney laughs and you can't help but join her.

"portia's gonna kill me,"

"oh come on! a new relationship is a publicists dream... plus, i think he likes you. he literally cannot stop staring," you look to where courtney points and you see the defensemen skating towards centre ice - his eyes flicking towards you before he grounds himself in the game.

butterflies immediately fill up your chest and you know your screwed. the boy is mine.

something about him is made for somebody like me

baby, come over, come over

and God knows i'm trying, but theres no use in denying

you don’t know how she did it, but as soon as the final buzzer rang courtney was pulling you up and out of your seat and dragging you through the various corridors of the arena. “where are we going?” you ask, letting courtney pull you along.

“i’ve got connections babes,” she replies before coming to a halt in-front of a door. she knocks twice and a nice man wearing a suit opens the door slightly.

“you all good?” he turns his head and yells into the room.

“court…” your confusion is clear but before you can ask any questions the man swings the door open and your face to face with the canucks roster. “courtney!” you hiss lowly and she squeezes your hand tightly.

“you’re welcome…” she teases as she drops your hand and steps into the room.

as if your eyes were magnets, you lock eyes with quinn. his cheeks tinge with pink, and you quickly avert your gaze.

the man from before introduces you to the room - even though it’s not really necessary. your “scandals” have been plastered all over the news since your brief hiatus from music left everyone bored and in need of gossip.

"hughes - i mean uh quinn. i'm quinn," the man from the ice stutters as he reaches a hand out towards you. you slip your hand into his and with an awkward pause you two drop your hands.

"im y/n," you reply with a small smile and courtney silently slips away to greet the other players.

the boy is mine

i can't wait to try him

let's get intertwined

the stars they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i cant believe my mind

the boy is divine

everything happened surprisingly fast. one minute you were sharing your number with quinn - against all rational judgement - and the next the two of you were taking any gaps in your schedules to spend time together. coffee dates turned into lunches, which turned into dinners, and then there were nights wrapped in each others sheets. it was all so crazy and fast - and it turned out that quinn wasn't seeing anybody after all.

please know this aint what i planned for

probably wouldnt bet a dime or my life on

there's gotta be a reason why

my girls, they always come through in a sticky situation

say, "it's fine"

happens all the time

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yourusername 🌞

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courtney miss youu

user06 cuties !!!!

user07 quinns liking her posts again...

user08 he saw her at his game months ago and instantly folded... i respect that in a man

_quinnhughes

liked by yourusername, lhughes_06, _eliaspettersson, and 31 409 others

_quinnhughes Summa😎🌊

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trevorzegras what the dog doin

user09 now who's damn dog...

user10 TOULOUSE???

user11 ? who tf is toulouse

user12 it's yns dog!! istg she and quinn are dating

when you don't think the rumours are true but... your attention is stuck on your phone screen as your leaked song plays in the background of a tiktok. a pretty blonde girl lip syncs your song with annoyance and you watch the video a total of three times before clicking on the caption. "guess she fantasized about my bf too much and now hes hers lol... she's sick."

"do you know this girl?" you ask quinn and he lazily looks up from the pasta he's cooking. you mute the video as chills go up your spin. there is absolutely no way that quinn was seeing someone when the two of you first got together all those months ago.

"no why, is she your friend?" quinn replies easily.

you stare back at the video and all of the interactions it has. over two-hundred-thousand likes and all the comments are bashing you for something you didn't even do. you were so beyond tired of this situation and people using your name for attention. "no, i don't know her either," you respond distantly. you forward the video to your managers and hope they can rectify the situation.

"it's nothing," you dismiss your earlier question when you realize that quinn is still lingering on you. he reluctantly nods before turning his attention back to his pan. "thanks for coming here by the way - i know your schedules insane," quinn speaks up, mentioning the break in your studio time to come visit his lake house in michigan.

"thank you for inviting me," you set your phone down - completely committing to ignore the online drama and to focus on what's in front of you.

something about him was made for somebody like me

baby, come over, come over

and God knows i'm trying, but theres no use in denying

you had never spent so much time in one place. you were only supposed to be in vancouver for a few studio sessions with a producer native to the city - but ever since meeting quinn you became enamoured with the city. but it wasn't just vancouver either - you were also splitting your time between michigan as well. which, before meeting quinn was just a single stop on an 100-show tour.

but strangely despite everything, vancouver feels like home as you begin navigating your new album cycle and the words of 'wisdom' from your publicist portia who - you swore was only discouraging you from your relationship so she wouldnt have to stave off angry people on social media.

"i was thinking... gossip girl marathon and we order-in?" quinn suggests as soon as you step foot into his apartment. your mind settles as youre welcomed into your boyfriends space.

"have you ever watched gossip girl?" you ask, tossing your bag onto the couch before sliding up next to quinns spot in the kitchen. he had various online menus pulled up on his laptop, ready to order whatever you desired.

quinn hums, "i watched it with my mom when i was younger. i'm team blair,"

"team blair?" you gasp, "ohh you were made for me," you laugh lightly as you point towards one of the menus on his screen. "i'm so down to watch gossip girl,"

"do you wanna go set up the tv while i order the food?" he asks and you kiss him on the cheek before making your way into his living room.

the boy is mine

i can't wait to try him

let's get intertwined

the stars they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i cant believe my mind

the boy is divine

"i think we should riff off 'fantasize'," you speak to your music producer - max - finally wanting to take back the energy from your leaked song. you were tired, and with quinn away on pre-season hockey duties you were bored. "something more sophisticated," you explain as you click through various samples and instrumentals. you finally land on one half-finished record and the lyrics immediately come to you.

"the boy is mine..." you hum along to the empty track as you pull out your notes app. "i can't wait to try him-" you continue, rapidly noting lyrics in your app.

by the end of your studio session the basic structure of the song was completed and you knew you had a hit on your hands.

and i know it's simply meant to be

and i, take full accountability for all these years

promise you i'm not usually

like this, shit, its like news to me

but i can't ignore my heart, boy

"the boy is mine, i can't wait to try him..." you sing quietly to yourself as you search pinterest for music video inspiration. "let's get intertwined... the stars they aligned..." quinns smirk immediately presses against your soft shoulder. he trails light kisses across your shoulder blade and up to your neck, silently begging you to continue singing your newest song.

"the boy is mineee..." his soft lips are ticklish against your skin but you can't help but lean into his grasp.

"i love when you sing," he mumbles and you tilt your head to rest against his. halle berry's cat woman buzzes in the background but neither of you are paying the movie any attention.

you hum, "oh yeah?"

he kisses your shoulder again and you fix your gaze back onto your laptop screen before lightly closing it and setting it to the side. "i still don't know what i'm going to do about the music video,"

quinn lays back in bed and allows his gaze to fixate on the tv. "what about catwoman? i'd bet you'd look good in a cat suit" he teases. you knew he wasn't being entirely serious but halle berry easily captures your attention as she dazzles on screen in her catsuit.

"the boy is mine," you hum lightly, completely enticed with quinns idea for your music video.

i can't wait to try him

lets get intertwined

the stars, they aligned

the boy is mine

watch me take my time

i can't believe my mind

the boy is divine

boy is mine

the male lead for the boy is mine video is a no-show. multiple calls to his personal phone, calls and emails to his managers and agency, everything is left unanswered.

quinn🤍🌙: i'm out front. i got your favourite drink

you sigh with relief as you quickly excuse yourself from the upset mass of production staff and your cinematographer.

"hey, what's wrong?" your boyfriend of almost a year asks with concern etched across his features. you blink slowly and all your frustrations manifests into tears.

"the shoot is going so bad," you breathe heavily, "and we're so behind schedule,"

quinn wipes away your fallen tears with his thumb. "why what's happening?"

"the male lead hasn't shown up yet and he and agency aren't answering our calls," you lean against quinn and he easily wraps a hand around your waist. "i've filmed most of my solo shots but i know the crew is getting upset and i don't know what to do. we're trying to find a replacement but-"

"i'll do it," quinn says quietly and measuredly.

"what?" you blink and pull away from him slightly. quinn passes you your drink and you allow the coolness of the cup to soothe some of your nerves.

"i'll be in the video" he repeats. "if you want- i mean i don't want to overstep or-"

you lightly tap quinns hand with your own. "i'd love if you were in the video," you say softly, nerves completely dissipating with his comfort and the solution to your problem. "thank you," you kiss his cheek.

less than an hour later quinn was fitted in his costume and was debriefed on the scenes he would be filming.

─── ➤ 📹

you left quinn to film his presidential speech sequence so that you could get ready to film the catsuit portion of the video. your dress was tight and your brown wig made you take on your pop-girl persona that you'd been sheltering ever since the infidelity allegations ruined your reputation.

"oh you look so good," quinn wanders up to you as soon as you step onto the apartment set. he eyes your latex dress before smoothing a hand down your side gently. "i was right about the outfit," he jokes easily and you lean against his side while the crew finishes marking the next scene.

"you don't look too bad yourself," you blush under the weight of his gaze. you trail one of your hands up the front of his chest before realizing where the two of you were. not like it would be a crime to ogle your boyfriend on your music video set... but still.

"how was filming your speech?" you ask, pulling away from him slowly.

"only forgot my lines once!" quinn jokes with a laugh, to which you immediately join in on.

"that's my boy!"

"okay, y/n - quinn, we're ready for you two now," your lovely director calls out across the set.

PRESENT DAY

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yourusername "the boy is mine" is out now!!🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛ starring my boy _quinnhughes, featuring brandy & monicadenise !!!!🥹🥹🫶 and directed by the amazing christhedirector

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christhedirector the best is yet to come!🎬

_quinnhughes had the best time with you!❤️

arianagrande obsessed

jackhughes can't believe you let him on set

canucks the collab we didnt know we needed!🐈‍⬛💙

user13 QUINN???? HUGHES????

user14 the most insane hard launch wtf?

user15 the boy may be yours but i need him to be MINE!

user16 waittt this is the guy from the hockey game all those months ago??? wow

user17 mv was so good i started hallucinating

user18 loveeee you!!! this song and mv is literally so good!

_quinnhughes

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_quinnhughes "the boy is mine" by the amazing yourusername is out everywhere now!❤️

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lhughes_06 can't believe this exists

_eliaspettersson 📸📸

trevorzegras damnnnn you really weren't lying

_quinnhughes ?

bboeser looking good💯

user19 WHAT

user20 me next pls

user21 so the rumours were true this whole time👀

user22 so did she cheat or not like...

user23 plss he wasnt even following that tiktok girl it was definitely a lie for views lmao.

user24 soooo their relationship is confirmed ?

user25 hughes girlies lost

user26 OHHH I WON I LOVE U BOTH SM!!

user27 this mv has me feeling things hold on...

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yourusername last photo dump i promiseeee !!! this project has been an absolute dream and i'm so happy that it's finally yours after all these months! i can't wait for u guys to see what else we've been working on.. ;)

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_quinnhughes the most talented♥️

user28 TRUE LOVE?? oh this quinn stuff is serious huh...

user29 i get it

user30 loveee you the most

THE END <3

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[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

The Physicality of Sauron x Galadriel: Cosmic Connection and Physical Attraction

We already heard the expression “cosmical connection” a million times, and even I already discussed that in this post. Expressions like “higher beings” and such have been used by the actors and show producers to describe Sauron and Galadriel’s connection.

And, then, we have this iconic moment:

What does this “cosmic connection” means? Both Galadriel and Sauron/Mairon are immortal spirits. Mairon, as a Maia, is one of the Ainur, and one of the forces who first shaped the world, alongside the Valar (Ainulindalë or “Music of the Ainur”). He’s ancient, being around since the Days before Days (before the world was created).

Galadriel was born during the Years of the Trees, thousands of years later. And she’s of one the Children of Ilúvatar, an Elf. Her grandparents were among the first Elves created by Eru to live in Valinor.

What’s the difference?

Mairon belongs to the Unseen world, because he is, up and foremost, a spiritual being. And like all Maiar and Valar, he can choose his physical form (Halbrand, Annatar, etc.) in the Seen world. And he’s not bound to it, but these forms are all the same spirit. Hence the big focus on “Halbrand is Sauron” in Season 2, and even Charlie Vickers said many times in recent interviews how he wanted to show that continuity between both characters in his interpretation of Sauron in Season 2.

Galadriel belongs to the Seen world, and cannot chose her physical form. She’s bound to the one she was born with (in this sense, Elves are pretty much like Men, who are also Children of Ilúvatar). In the Third age, Galadriel can move between the Seen and Unseen world, but that’s not the case when she and Mairon first meet.

Let’s see what happens when Maiar and Elves fall in love:

Melian and Thingol

In the Valaquenta, we were introduced to some Maiar of interest. Melian was one of these. She’s a Maia to Vána (Vala of preserving youth and of fauna and flora on Middle-earth, also known as “Queen of Flowers���) and Estë (Vala of healing and purveyor or restful sleep). Melian dwells on the gardens of Lórien, and has a magical voice, great wisdom and was beloved by all. Birds, especially nightingales (her signature friends) surround her at all times. Around the time the Elves are created by Eru, she ventures across the Sundering Seas and arrives on Middle-earth.

Centuries later, the Teleri are the third or the Elf clans (alongside the Noldor and the Vanyar) to take the Great Journey, from Valinor to Middle-earth. Their leader, Elwë (Thingol) has the habit of wandering the woods by himself. One day, he ventures a forest called Nan Elmoth, in Beleriand. And there she meets Melian, and he was absolutely smitten.

“Enchantment” falls on him, and when he actually hears Melian’s voice, it’s all over. Her song fills “all his heart with wonder and desire.” And this is before he actually sees her: when he finally does set eyes on her, he’s at awe, because the “light of Aman” is reflected in her face.

Love overtakes Thingol, completely. He takes Melina’s hand, and “straightway a spell is laid on him.” Suddenly his plans (to reunite with his friend Finwë, to lead his people to Valinor, to dwell again in the light of the Two Trees) just disappear. He forgets everyone and everything. Thingol and Melian just stand there, looking at each others’ eyes, hands clasped, and perfectly still, for (according to some sources) 200 years. The trees grown tall around them. And no one knows Thingol is there, so his people search for him in Beleriand, in vain.

Since this event seem so over the top, many speculate that an actual spell, indeed, fall upon Thingol, even thought Tolkien gives no indication of him being “enslaved” or joining with Melian against his will. Anyway, one theory is that this meeting was orchestrated by Eru himself, because many key events happened because of it. Meaning, they were “doomed” to meet and fall in love:

Thingol and Melian will go on to establish the first of the organized Elven kingdoms of Middle-earth, in Beleriand, and rule it as Queen and King: Doriath (and their people are known as the “Sindar”);

They will have a child, described as “fairest of all the Children of Ilúvatar that ever was or shall ever be”: Lúthien, who would help in defeating both Morgoth and Sauron in the future.

In order to be with Thingol (= have sex with him), Melian retained her physical form, and became bound to it after conceiving a child with him. Meaning she couldn’t access the Unseen world, anymore (= return to her true spiritual form).

“Rings of Power” created a parallel of Thingol and Melian’s first meeting with Galadriel and Mairon, throughout Season 1:

Then an enchantment fell on him, and he stood still; and afar off beyond the voices of the lómelindi he heard the voice of Melian, and it filled all his heart with wonder and desire.

He forgot then utterly all his people and all the purposes of his mind, and following [the sound] and was lost

But he came at last to a glade open to the stars, and there Melian stood; and out of the darkness he looked at her, and the light of Aman was in her face. She spoke no word;

[…] but being filled with love Elwë came to her and took her hand,

[…] and straightway a spell was laid on him so that they stood.

[…] thus while long years were measured by the wheeling stars above them; [not only are they outside, but Galadriel armor has a star sigil – and, no, this is not Fëanor’s sigil, it’s a different design] 

[...]; and the trees of Nan Elmoth grew tall and dark before they spoke any word

Like Thingol and Melian, there is no need for words between them. They look into each others’ eyes and feel it (“I’ve felt it too”). This makes it hard for the audience to understand what is happening between them, but it is what it is.

However, I think this was *the moment* when they truly saw the extent of their mutual feelings for each other; when their souls are merging due to being bound together (via Morgoth’s crown). Which explains their reactions here: Galadriel is shocked, and Mairon is in happy disbelief. “Wait- you’re actually in love with me?”

Galadriel thinks Sauron is evil incarnate, she’s not shocked because he stabbed her, come on.

Which, again, explains this expression over here. This is pure joy, and he has tears on his eyes: Mairon believes that Galadriel is about to join him, and they are going to run into Mordor the sunset together.

Cosmic connection and Physical attraction

Galadriel belongs to the Seen world, the same as Thingol. But their Maiar pair, Melian and Mairon, are from the Unseen world. Meaning: are these connections only spiritual (“cosmically”) or they have a physical component (“lust”), too?

We know that Thingol and Melian went physical with theirs, because they had a child together. Since Thingol is from the Seen world (and cannot access the Unseen world) he’s both a physical and spiritual being (Elf) but he’s only spiritual after the death of his physical body. The same with Galadriel.

Both Maiar and Valar are capable of feeling love and lust in Tolkien lore. We see this not only with Melian, but with all Valar couples. We also see Melkor/Morgoth lusting after Lúthien when he saw her dancing for him (this implies a very physical sentiment).

Then Morgoth looking upon her beauty [Lúthien] conceived in his thought an evil lust, and a design more dark than any that had yet come into his heart since he fled from Valinor. Thus he was beguiled by his own malice, for he watched her, leaving her free for a while, and taking secret pleasure in his thought. Lúthien dances for Morgoth on his Dark Throne [before she puts him and all the host of Angband to sleep with her magic singing]

In other works describing this episode, Tolkien goes on using words like “lust”, “hunger”, “blinding thrist”, “pleasure”, and stressing the importance of Morgoth trying to reach out for Lúthien with his hand (= he wants to touch her). Meaning, there is a real physical element at play here (even if it’s evil and diabolical).

Mairon himself got pretty “touchy” with Galadriel back in Season 1. This is not random, and this implies the connection between them was not only “cosmical”; Mairon, a spiritual being, wanted to touch Galadriel, meaning, there was as a physical element/attraction there, too.

We also saw this with Mirdania in Season 2, the she-elf of Eregion who reminded him of Galadriel, and was used as a plot device for the audience to see that Galadriel is always on Mairon’s mind.

Meaning: yes, Mairon wants to “shake the sheets” (or the table forge) with Galadriel. It’s not only “cosmical” or “spiritual”. He desires her, on a physical level, too.

Mairon, the Maia of Aulë

To understand the physical attraction, we need to go back to the beginning of Mairon himself.

Mairon was created by Eru as a Maia of Aulë, the Vala of smithing and handiwork. He was among the most powerful Maiar, and the purest one, too. Eru created him to be good and loyal, but also to love several things: crafting and creation (smithing), beauty, order and perfection, and to dislike wastefulness. These were, most likely, Mairon’s contributions to shape the world in the Ainulindalë.

Melkor/Morgoth used Mairon’s love of order and perfection to corrupt him, and turned it into an obsession with domination and control. Morgoth corrupted his goodness and loyalty into evil and treachery (turning him into “the great deceiver”). His love of beauty corrupted into ugliness, by the breeding of the Orcs. Mairon’s greatest virtues became his downfall.

And who better embodies the qualities of “beauty” and “perfection” than Galadriel herself? Her beauty is the stuff of legends, and everyone is at awe when they first meet her. Her very gold/silver hair inspired the most legendary jewels in existence: the Silmarils. The light of the Two Trees of Valinor shine on her hair and eyes.

We also see Galadriel connected with “smithing”: she’s the object of the love and lust of the two legendary Elven smiths: Fëanor and Celebrimbor (Brimby in Tolkien lore, not in “Rings of Power”). Fëanor was inspired by how the light caught her hair to create the Silmarils; and he asked her for a few strands of hair, three times, and three times she denied him. In the Third age, Galadriel would gift strands of her hair to Gimli, a Dwarf, a Child of Aulë (the Dwarves were created by Aulë himself; another connection to smithing and to Mairon’s original Vala).

Yes, "Rings of Power" really went there. All the paralells.

Galadriel is also connected with power, something Mairon liked from the beginning, too (which caused Melkor to target him and get him to his side). She's not only power-hungry, but she's powerful, herself, and will only grow in power as the years go by. She's a natural leader, proud and rebellious; she was born to rule (literally, because her father was High King of the Noldor in Valinor, she’s an actual princess).

Just like Thingol and Melian!

Galadriel was also a pupil of Aulë and his wife Yavanna, back in Valinor. Which means, that if Mairon wasn’t corrupted by Morgoth/Melkor and he didn’t betray the Valar, they would have met, then. And what would have happened? Galadriel would never marry Celeborn, in the first place, that’s for sure (they met on Middle-earth, not in Valinor). And if sparkles happened in Middle-earth, in the most antagonist of scenarios (with Mairon already corrupted), OG Mairon and Artanis (Galadriel’s original name) meeting would set Aulë’s forge on fire. Artanis would have the most enviable jewelry collection in all of Arda. Because Mairon would gift her and worship her, nonstop: I will place crown(s) upon your head. I will never rest until all Arda had been brought to its knees, to worship the light of its Queen.

The “what ifs” don’t stop here. Because Artanis and Mairon power couple would parallel Yavanna and Aulë, too. Yavanna, Aulë’s wife and queen, “Queen of the Earth”, physical form is described: “in the form of a woman she is tall, and robed in green (…) crowned with the Sun; and from all its branches there spilled a golden dew upon the earth.”

Wild how “Rings of Power” already went there. Several times:

In fact, the first regal outfit we see Galadriel wear in "Rings of Power" is a teal (greenish-blue) cape and a gold dress. And she's wearing a gold flower crown. All hail, Queen Artanis, stronger than the foundations of the earth? Interesting choice of words, because Aulë created the "foundations of the earth" (= mountains).

In 2x02, we see Galadriel planting flowers, while wearing green and with a gold leaf crown on her head (as she was meant to be):

How could Mairon not love her? That’s the real question. Galadriel is the materialization, the physical form, of everything he was designed to love. And she can’t change her physical form, mind you. She belongs to the Seen world.

And this was probably the reason why Eru brought them together, in the first place: for Mairon to recall his original purpose. And probably to rub on his face what he lost for being a evil b*tch and side with Melkor. Galadriel is already bound to another (Celeborn) in the eyes of the Valar and the Eldar. The only way to “undone” that is for the Valar themselves to give permission.

[eldritch-spouse]

I want Breg to grind his slit against mine 😔

The pressure would force his cocks to stay inside, but it would bulge enough to add some bumpy pleasure 🥴

[This is more of a struggle session than actual sex. Fem reader.]

TW: Unhygienic(?)

You wouldn't exactly say you're a sadist, but it's funny to watch the way Breg reacts to certain punishments.

Because even if this monster supposedly endured a past that centered mostly around the act of mating, it seems he's still far behind most others in terms of creative perversion.

Evidenced by moments such as these, if the way he's nearly visibly fuming trying to understand what you meant is anything to go by.

" You want me to keep them inside? " Breg tilts his head.

" Yep. " You confirm for the third time.

" But that way I can't make love to you, angel! "

" That's the whole point, Breg. "

He frowns, then pauses.

" Can I eat you out? "

" No. "

" C- Can you suck my slit? "

" Nope. "

With every rejection, he deflates a bit more.

The breeder glances at his tail, synapses connecting to form the dubious figment of a terrible idea.

" Can I- "

" No. " You emphasize, giving him a stern look.

The terms have been laid out clearly. After his latest impulsive stunt, which has earned you yet another ban from one of your favorite stores, you've decided Breg won't be fucking you for a while. This means he cannot penetrate you in any way, in any orifice, with any part of himself. And you're not touching his dicks at any capacity.

This leaves Breg with only one ridiculous option, relying on his slit for a mockery of stimulation...

You know it's a bit cruel to take a hypersexual monster's relief away so radically, but these kinds of punishments are usually the ones that stick the most with Breg and reap better results in the long-run. This is a necessary evil if you are to succeed in your seemingly impossible task of adapting this fool of a monster to modern society.

" You're so mean to me sometimes. "

The audacity to call you mean after the scene he made almost makes a blood vessel pop in your forehead.

" You can always wait it out. " As if.

You had a movie lined up to watch together if he miraculously agreed.

" But I don't want to... "

You shrug at the breeder. Then he ought to sort himself out, as far as you care.

Breg whines some more, hoping against all odds that you'd have a change of heart and allow the sweaty, horny monster looming over you to have his way. No such luck.

Sagging in defeat, Breg palms over his pelvis, tracing his own slit but not teasing it directly. Just enough to make himself shudder and huff. His unseen eyes are fixed on you while he paws at himself like some pathetic creature, you can only imagine half the scenes that must be unfolding in that fried brain and causing his hips to shift forward occasionally.

Frankly, for as much as he complains, Breg would be able to get off just fine if you told him he could only look at you. He's just that easy.

When Breg dips to shamelessly huff at your neck and chest, you lean your head to take a look at the situation below, finding the breeder already soaking the couch with the precum dripping off his slit, two fingers hastily stuffed in there, no doubt trying to stimulate the tips of his cocks.

He's a smart-enough guy, he knows this is the only way he can directly stimulate them. One miscalculation and they'll slip out, immediately ruining his chance to get off around you.

That doesn't make it any less of a pitiful, almost comedic act to see. The puffs of his hot breath around your neck cast goosebumps across your skin as it becomes humid, Breg breathes shallower in an attempt to get as much of your scent as he can, speed his own motions to keep up a semblance of stimulus. The monster groans something against your skin, his dominant arm straining with effort and fast, slick sounds ringing across the room. If the way his tail thrashes is any indication, this isn't really doing it for him, but he's trying.

And that matters.

" Good boy. " You encourage him, a small hand holding his head closer to you.

Although he gasps and moans in delight at your praise, Breg's irritation only grows. " 'S not enough... " He huffs.

" Yeah it is, you can get there. " You're fairly certain Breg could get off by just moving his hips against air.

" Noo- " His fingers' motions slow rapidly. " I need more, need to mate you- "

" Nope. "

" Angel please-! "

" No. "

Breg takes his hands off his pouch and buries his head on your chest, swaying in the discomfort of his own arousal.

" Please please please please please- "

Gods if his begging never fails to make the temperature in a room rise some degrees... But you can't be that weak willed with a monster like Breg, it just doesn't work.

" Not happening. And if you keep complaining then I'll just leave. "

" No- " His claws nearly sink onto your sides from the quick hold he established at those words. " No please, I'm sorry. "

You roll your eyes. " Apology accepted. "

Again, a few seconds pass as the breeder thinks of what he can do to make things work. You let him have all the time in the world to come up with an idea, because you would also struggle in his place. There are moments where Breg looks as if he wants to give up, but his determination to satisfy his desires has always been stronger. At some point, he settles on what to do, and the first move is to start tugging at your comfy bottoms.

" What are you doing? " It's more genuine curiosity than anything. You told him he couldn't eat you out, after all.

" Don't worry about it, angel. "

All you do is squint and watch as Breg quickly removes your clothes and dips between your legs. Although aware that he can't sample you, he decides that there's no issue if he flattens his tongue against your panties. Breg hums, disappointed that there's little taste but that of cotton, no matter how hard he presses against the folds of your clothed cunt.

His teeth catch onto the fabric while he begins to pull it down, removing the garment, another flash of pain on his face at knowing that he can't dive for the gold.

Once your panties are out of the way, you get to watch the monster think about how he's going to do this.

He tries to slot himself between your legs the way he normally would, pressing himself as close to you as possible. The results... Weren't that great. Breg tries and tries to readjust, but he's not getting the needed friction every time he awkwardly humps.

With a muffled curse, he pulls back and starts brainstorming again, moving parts of you from side to side, impatient. You roll your eyes throughout it, eventually ending up with one leg spread the other pushed up- Not the most comfortable.

Breg shifts then, twisting himself to fit the way he wants, like some kind of puzzle piece. More importantly, you now get what he was trying to do all this time, achieve friction from his slit directly to your pussy. Brow rising, you actually wonder if this will work for him.

Little did you expect that it would work for you too...

By sheer virtue of his frustration, the force Breg uses to grind his slit against your entrance applies enough pressure that it feels as though your clitoris is being squished and rolled around just right, making a shiver crawl up your spine at the sudden stimulus. Every muscle in his body tenses with his effort to find the perfect angle, the perfect rhythm, leading to some very frantic humping in-between harsh grinding rolls.

You didn't really expect to get invested in this. It's just a punishment, after all. But the breeder's misery proves to be a reliable and effortless source of consistent pleasure, enough that you're getting wet and biting your bottom lip, encouraging him with a few of your own motions to aid his pace. As wet as you may be, Breg manages to be wetter, soaking your cunt with his precum that allows for a steady sort of slide against each other.

Your excitement seems to be the missing trick, for as soon as Breg senses it, you can feel the way his cocks angrily push at a barrier they're not allowed to break, causing his slit to bump out humorously- But deliciously so.

Breg sweats and pants as if enduring a great workout, unsubtly drooling out the side of his mouth, grit-teeth betraying a pathetic fight for a climax that might not come at all. Eventually, his complexion starts twisting in a shocked and confused expression.

" What's... What's wrong? " You'd been clutching one of the cushions by now, hoping this would either make you climax or just feel good for a while longer.

" It feels- Feels weird. " The monster groans. " Keeping them in for so long... I- Hnng- "

You can only imagine what it must be like. It occurs to you that maybe, just maybe, his cocks swelled enough with desperation that they might be stuck in his body, squeezing against each other, unable to move. If it were painful, Breg would have gotten scared and stopped most likely, so you assume he's just crumbling under way too much pressure on his lengths.

" Ah, they're stuck? " You tease.

He halts entirely. " N-... No. "

You've said this a couple of times, and you'll say it again, one of Breg's few redeeming qualities is that he's a terrible liar.

" Then, I guess you can pull them out. "

" Huh?! " Had there not been that layer of skin in front of his eyes, they would have popped out his sockets. " Really? You mean it?! "

" Of course. " There's a limit to your blatant sadism. Or maybe not, because you know damn well he's not going to be able to push them out under this much arousal.

Breg immediately pulls back from you, holding still as he tries, rather humorously, to relax enough that, miraculously, his cocks protrude.

It's not happening. The monster huffs and whines, getting upset at himself as he even resorts to reaching in with a digit. No results.

Mildly amused, you push him further back, so that you can sit on the couch while he stands, nearly at face level with his poor, puffed slit. Small hands cling to his thighs as you rest your chin on his skin and glance up.

" Come on, Breg. I'm waiting... Don't you want me to play with them? " Your tongue hangs out, taunting and soft and warm.

If he wasn't desperate before, he sure is now, tail swishing near violently as he realizes his predicament. Helpless, the only thing Breg can do is thrill himself with the view of you so very eager to suck him off, and nudge his wet slit against your face. White claws reach down to grab locks of your hair and play with them, stroking over the sides of your cheeks and bringing you closer, as if that would fix the situation.

Ultimately, the only solution would be for him to calm down, because only with less arousal would his members deflate and his slit stop tensing enough for it to work out. But Breg has put too much work into this exercise to let it go to waste, so he's reluctant to back down.

In the end, all the breeder does is groan, almost on the verge of crying, while he attempts to get you to touch him at any capacity. Gentle hands palp the overheated and swollen skin.

" Please just- " He huffs, the denial and frustration melting into a desperate discomfort that has him rolling his head back. " I just need to cum, Angel please. "

Gave up, did he? Adorable.

Breaking the rule set earlier, you dip to kiss Breg's leaking slit, a short tongue ravishing it from top to bottom. Even when you try to squeeze it in and directly lick his throbbing cocks, they're so tightly packed together that you can hardly flirt with either. It doesn't stop you from trying.

On his end, the breeder seems grateful at last, taking this as the opportunity it is by rapidly grabbing both sides of your head and clumsily, feverishly, trying to roll his need against you. Again, he achieves a gross sort of hump against your beautiful face, even the protrusion of your nose serving to stimulate him further as he all but nearly rubs himself all over you.

With your ears covered by pale, wide palms and constant mouthfuls of overheated flesh coated in the tang of precum, you fail to pick up on the increasing volume of Breg's cries, the way they become monstrous and shameless in his finally approaching peak.

In the end, the only tell you have is the rapid twitching of his slit, the way his legs tense and the shifting of his buried cocks, before he bursts.

Maybe oozing is the appropriate word here, you'd say, because the only way Breg's seed can escape him at all is through thick globs pooling at the edge of his pouch and being subsequently pushed out by the remaining shots of his pent up load, dripping warmly to coat his hips and ass.

" A- Ahhn- "

Breg lets go of your head to whine and gasp, hisses making it through the gaps between his teeth, the sensation apparently being foreign and intense to him. He still moves his hips, perhaps hoping that he can grind it out of him faster, or maybe that's just his way of riding out the orgasm without being able to stroke himself.

It shouldn't be turning you on so much to watch the monster struggle, his overstimulation rising as trapped members are forced to keep in contact with his own hot cum, still sticking and dripping off him in a depraved show. Breg shudders, his tail wrapping around your leg for a semblance of comfort while you pet his cheek, greedily watching.

Only after a decent pause of trying to ride it down does the pressure deflate enough to give him some actual relief. The breeder growls in genuine pain when his sore slit is stretched enough, finally allowing two blue, half-hard cocks to pop out, coated in a sheen of his own seed and still pulsing from what you imagine must have been an peculiar climax.

" See? You did just fine. " Praising the horn dog after successful training is key. His shaky smile is all the confirmation you need.

It's a bit hard to resist torturing him a bit more, you think as you sink to your knees in front of the mess he made.

" Now, sit still so I can help clean up. "

[astroa3h]

Lilith Through the Signs ✨

Let’s talk about Lilith, because she’s that dark, seductive part of your chart that you’re probably a little afraid to look at, but trust me—you need to. In astrology, Lilith shows us the hidden, raw parts of our psyche, the things we suppress or even deny. She’s our wild side, our deepest desires, and sometimes, our untapped rage. Wherever Lilith is in your chart, she brings out this primal energy that cannot be tamed. And let me tell you, she doesn't play nice. You’re going to feel it. If you don’t confront her, she’ll push until you have no choice. 

If Lilith is in Aries, then honey, you’re all about raw, impulsive energy. Lilith in Aries doesn’t ask permission. You fight for independence at any cost, and sometimes, that can mean bulldozing through life without thinking about the consequences. People might call you selfish, but really, you’re just unapologetically you. You struggle with authority and anyone telling you what to do. In relationships, this placement is about the constant power struggle. You want freedom, but you also crave someone who can handle your intensity. Here’s the thing: you have to learn how to channel that fire without burning everything down. Maybe take up martial arts or something that lets you express your aggression in a healthy way.

With Lilith in Taurus, you are drawn to the pleasures of life, the sensual side of things. It’s about indulging—whether that’s in food, sex, or luxury. But here’s the shadow side: you can become possessive, even obsessive, about holding onto what you have. You want security so badly that you might cling to things (and people) that are no longer good for you. This placement craves comfort, but you can get stuck in your comfort zone, unwilling to let go even when it’s time. In your love life, you’ll likely attract relationships that push you to confront your fear of losing what you hold dear. Learn to trust that true security comes from within. You don’t need to hoard it; it’s already yours.

Lilith in Gemini? Oh boy, you are a master of words, and you know exactly how to twist them to get what you want. But watch out, because this placement can make you feel like you’re always wearing a mask. You can say all the right things, but inside, there’s a part of you that feels unseen and unheard. You’ll attract people who are intrigued by your mind, but they might not get the real you. In relationships, it’s all about mental connection, but sometimes you use communication as a weapon. You can be manipulative when you want to be, and if you’re not careful, you’ll push people away with your mind games. The key here? Be honest. Be vulnerable. You’re smart enough to know when someone isn’t on your level, but that doesn’t mean you have to hide behind cleverness.

With Lilith in Cancer, you’re dealing with deep emotional wounds. There’s a part of you that craves nurturing but also resents it at the same time. You might have grown up feeling like you had to be the caretaker, even when you weren’t ready. And now? You have a hard time letting anyone take care of you. You build emotional walls, but inside, you’re yearning for someone to break them down. In relationships, you might sabotage things when they start to feel too safe, because deep down, you’re scared of being abandoned. Your healing comes when you stop looking for that motherly figure in other people and start giving yourself the care you need. You have to learn that vulnerability is not a weakness.

If Lilith is in Leo, girl, you’re the queen—and you know it. You want to be admired, adored, worshipped, but you also fear that you’re never enough. This is a placement where ego and insecurity collide. You want the spotlight, but you’re terrified of what people will see when they look too close. Relationships become about power. You want someone who puts you on a pedestal, but the second they don’t, you’re out. The challenge here is learning that your worth doesn’t depend on external validation. When you own your power without needing applause from the crowd, you’ll find that the right people are drawn to your light.

Lilith in Virgo brings a complicated relationship with control. You strive for perfection in everything, but the more you try to control, the more things slip through your fingers. You might have a tendency to obsess over the details—whether it’s your appearance, your work, or your relationships. But this perfectionism is exhausting. You attract situations where you’re forced to confront the idea that control is an illusion. The real work is in letting go. In love, you might feel like no one is ever good enough for you, or worse, that you’re never good enough. But the truth is, you don’t have to fix anyone, least of all yourself. Your healing comes from accepting the messiness of life.

Lilith in Libra? Oh, this is a tricky one because you want harmony and balance, but deep down, you might feel like you’re constantly at war with yourself. You attract people who reflect your shadow side, and it’s easy to lose yourself in relationships. You want to please others so badly that you forget your own needs, and then you resent them for it. This placement has to learn how to set boundaries and stop giving away power just to keep the peace. In love, you might find yourself drawn to partners who are controlling or manipulative, and it’s because you’re not owning your own power. Stand up for yourself. Relationships are meant to be equal, not a battleground.

If your Lilith is in Scorpio, honey, you’ve got intensity for days. This is one of the most powerful Lilith placements, but it also comes with deep emotional wounds around trust and betrayal. You crave deep, soul-shattering connections, but you’re also terrified of being vulnerable. In love, you attract relationships that push you to confront your darkest fears—jealousy, obsession, control. The challenge for you is to let go of the need to dominate. You’re not going to lose your power by being vulnerable. In fact, true power comes from letting others see the real you, scars and all. The key here is to trust that you won’t be destroyed by love. It’s transformative, not destructive.

Lilith in Sagittarius is about freedom—wild, uncontained freedom. You’re always looking for the next adventure, the next thrill, and you can’t stand to be tied down. But here’s the thing: running from commitment isn’t going to fill that void inside. You attract situations where you feel like your wings are being clipped, but it’s because you’re not allowing yourself to fully engage. You might avoid deep connections because you’re afraid they’ll hold you back. In relationships, you crave freedom, but you also want someone who understands your need for independence. Your journey is about finding a way to commit without feeling caged. Trust that you can have both stability and freedom.

If Lilith is in Capricorn, you’re all about power and control. You crave success, but deep down, you fear failure more than anything. You’ll push yourself to the brink just to prove you’re worthy, but this placement often comes with a deep sense of insecurity. You might feel like no matter how much you achieve, it’s never enough. In relationships, you attract people who challenge your need for control, and it forces you to confront the fact that true success isn’t about power—it’s about vulnerability. Learn to let go of the idea that you have to be the one in control all the time. It’s okay to let someone else take the lead. You’ll find that it makes you stronger, not weaker.

With Lilith in Aquarius, you’re the rebel. You don’t like being told what to do, and you’re always pushing against the grain. But this can also make you feel like an outsider, like you don’t belong. You attract relationships where you feel like you have to sacrifice your individuality, but deep down, you know that’s not the answer. Your challenge is to find a way to be in a relationship without losing yourself. Don’t be afraid to stand out. The world needs your unique vision. In love, you might push people away because you’re afraid of being controlled, but real freedom comes from allowing yourself to be fully seen.

Finally, Lilith in Pisces is a placement of deep emotional sensitivity. You feel everything, and sometimes, that can be overwhelming. You might have a tendency to escape through fantasy or avoidance because reality feels too harsh. But this placement also gives you incredible intuition. You attract relationships where you feel like you’re drowning in emotions, and it can be hard to find your footing. The key here is to set boundaries—emotional boundaries. You don’t have to take on other people’s pain as your own. Your healing comes when you learn to stay grounded in reality while still honoring your deeply spiritual side. Embrace your empathy, but don’t let it consume you.

xoxo Ash 💓 Get your own reading at astroash.net

[saradika]

— invisible string

din djarin x vaguely force sensitive!reader

rated e - 1.7k

tags: divergent timeline, soulmate!au, takes place across season 1 & 2, missed connections, the Razor Crest lives, PiV, marking, creampie, magical elements

a/n: for the TS Challenge by @beskarandblasters! This was so fun, thanks so much for hosting this event! 💖 I was so excited to get this song & character

There's something about him, this man.

Deep down, it feels as if a string is tied around something vital inside you. A piece of you that you cannot live without, twined with its match inside him. Like the path you've taken has always led to this moment, this meeting.

You feel as if you are always out of step.

Too early. And then somehow - just a little bit too late.

As if you've missed something crucial. A prickle on the back of your neck. Eyes scanning the crowds of people as you weave through cities - looking for someone.

As to whom, though - you're never quite sure.

You think it's always been there. A similar sort of feeling that flickers when you're in danger. That was something you had cultivated. Manipulated into a force you can wield. A push and pull, an aid - when you need it. Something you draw from often, during your days as a smuggler.

But you're not sure what to do with this.

The feeling is pushed down on Nevarro.

Contacted for a job, one that had been easy enough. Your goods exchanged in a dingy cantina - a shipment of stolen fuel cells furtively traded to an irritated man that went by Karga. Your eyebrows raised at the charred hole in the man's fine clothes - a half-hearted wonder at how the man was still standing.

The Imperial credits he offers you do not get you far. He's unable to offer you a puck - his trade was in bounty hunting, not smuggling. You're not sure if you'd take one, and the cells are enough to keep his crew afloat for a while. A dead-end for now, but you think - not always.

After, your ship drifts along an unseen track.

To Tatooine this time. A big job for the Hutts that takes you two weeks. Days in the sun spent waiting for the payments to transfer to your account, and so in the meantime - you tinker.

Trading your way up. A broken blaster fixed, exchanged for ship parts. The parts installed, the labor paid for with two, beat-up old speeders.

Only to sell them both to a cocky hot-shot bounty hunter for double their value - his over-blown self-confidence eclipsing the fact that you were absolutely swindling him.

It’s not your problem.

Though here, you can't help but feel the urge to linger. An itch beneath your skin, as if you've missed something, again.

You ignore it. Trading up one more time - swapping Mos Eisley for the sea. The choppy waters of Trask washing away the grit and sand that clings to your skin.

There's always work to be found here - deals to make with the Quarren and Mon Calamari. Those days spent at the inn, with lunches of warm homemade chowder and wrapped in chunky-knit sweaters.

Eyes snagging on a couple that often sits together at lunch. Their features frog-like, affection clear in their soft chatter, the slow blink of their large, black eyes. You imagine it to be a stolen moment - meeting up in the afternoon, too eager to wait until evening to see each other.

It’s nice.

It follows you, back to your room.

You think about them later - the obvious connection. A bone-deep urge to find another that matches a part of you. Something you've never had.

Somehow you know it’s out there.

But it's not time.

The next day, your ship takes off again.

There's a feeling deep down that for once, you're right where you need to be.

Your path is not guided by a job. Something spinning inside your chest like the point of a compass, your fingers keying coordinates with a mind of their own.

It's not a sea. Not a desert. Not a growing town, slowly rebuilding.

You're taken to a forest. The trees are unlike those you've seen - stretching tall and thin towards the sky. Their leaves sparse, but still filling the space with the sheer number.

There's a village - but you're drawn away from the tall walls. There's nothing inside that you seek. Drawn back to the trees you had seen from above. There's no tracks for you to follow, it's only your own boots pressed into the earth.

But you still go out, day after day.

It's on the third day, as you sit by the edge of a clear, shallow pool, that you hear the crack of branches under boots.

It should frighten you… but it doesn't.

It feels like an inevitability.

Your head turns, and there's a man there. His limbs encased in armor of shining beskar. A Mandalorian, you realize, when your eyes meet the dark visor that bisects his helmet.

"It's you." The words are a flat buzz, through his helmet. Unsurprised, somehow. Just as you are.

And it's him.

There's something about him, this man.

Deep down, it feels as if a string is tied around something vital inside you. A piece of you that you cannot live without, twined with its match inside him. Like the path you've taken has always led to this moment, this meeting.

You're not sure what that something is...

But think you are finally ready to find out.

His touch is familiar, though you've never known it. Much like everything else, it feels almost destined.

You know he feels it too. A slow circling dance, the weight of his eyes following you from behind the visor. That string inside no longer feels like a leash, but instead - a lifeline.

Finally being able to acknowledge that he has been what you've been orbiting around this whole time. Easing that ever-present ache of loneliness that had always followed you.

For some time, he had thought you would be the one to train Grogu. That perhaps this had been the reason why the fates had pushed you together.

You had tried, and failed. That part of you still too raw, too unfashioned. It lived inside you, but it was something you had been unable to teach another. How could you, when you did not even know the word for what it was?

And as time passed, you realized deep down that you were truly meant to be here now. Not for the before.

An aid at first, of course. You had gone with him to Tython. Traded in your ship, and traveled on the Slave 1. Had faced death by his side, staring into the black chrome of the Dark Troopers.

Had grieved with him, after.

You think this had been your place all along.

This liminal space, in those months that follow.

Giving him something to grab onto. Fingers sinking into flesh, your back hitting the mattress as he follows.

It’s dark, in the belly of his ship. With anyone else your senses would be screaming, a ringing alarm.

But you’ve come to know each room, fingers tracing the cold metal. From the walls, to the bunk, to him - the tips slipping under to tug at the fastenings of his armor.

He is quiet, like he often is now. But you can feel the heat that rolls off him in waves. The harsh buzz of his breath through the vocoder, before the light cuts out completely.

Before it’s just him and you.

His knees nudge your thighs wider. Pressing into muscle and flesh, forcing them up and apart. Your fingers twist in his curls, angling your mouth up to meet the kiss that is all teeth and tongue.

Fingers dip down, thick and calloused. Parting you, nudging inside to where you’re wet and waiting. Pumping deep with his thumb pressed snug against the button of your clit - leaving you dizzy and clenching and wondering if he just knew, as well.

You think he did. He does.

And when he works himself inside you, you finally feel full. Ripping a sound from each of you - his rough and swallowed, yours a broken murmur of his name.

Something else given in the dark, on another night akin to this. Pieces of himself peeled back and gifted, only to be carefully wrapped up and buried deep.

The pound of his hips itches at something you’ve been missing. Those hands tugging at your hips, pulling you to meet each harsh thrust. Fingers slipping down to swirl against you again - a spark rising each time you fit together, building swiftly to an inferno.

“Din,” You breathe, as something heavy flickers inside you, just out of reach, “Stars, please. Don’t stop-”

“I won’t,” It’s a low oath, as his cock grinds deep, “I’ve waited too long for you, cyare.”

He wrenches it from you, setting you ablaze. Your is cry loud in the tiny room as you come undone. The wild swirl of your senses narrowing down, until it’s just him. Din’s mouth against your neck, warm breath and teeth nipping marks into your skin - the pleasure flowing from you in pulsing waves, sinking into him.

Making him follow, no more than a dozen thrusts later. A gritted, bitten-back moan of your own name, before his hips are stuttering. Giving back what you passed to him, his cock throbbing inside you, buried deep.

Where he stays, until he’s gone soft. A pang of loss shuddering through you when he slips from between your thighs - expecting him to return to his own bunk.

To leave you, again.

But the mattress dips, next to you. The space narrow, a short sigh when you wiggle too much trying to get comfortable. Hands hooking around your wrists, hauling your hips over his. Settling you down on top of him.

And in the dark - he stays.

“Should have met you on Tatooine,” Din tells you later that night, unbidden. Letting your legs twine with his, thighs parted to make room for you. “I didn’t know it was you. If I had-”

His words end abruptly, hanging. Both of you thinking about all those moments when time hadn’t lined up. The synchronicity of your movements, just barely nudged out of time.

Both there, during that same moment. If you had stayed another day, maybe that would have been your meeting.

But you had left early, and he had came late.

“We’re here now.” You tell him, chin pressing against his chest. Eyes finding his in the dark, though you cannot see. “Isn’t that enough?”

There’s the brush of his hand along your spine - knuckles, and then fingertips as they unfurl.

“Yes.”

It is enough, for now.

You’re not sure if it’s forever. If, for some reason, you’ll be forced to part again. But tonight, you’re not worried.

Because, if you were to reach inside yourself and pluck that golden string right now - letting it thrum…

You think that he would feel it, too.

thanks so much for reading!! 💖

cyare - beloved

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere //// Part 3

Part 1 • 2

With your trial on hold and them still in desperate need of their technician, no one goes too far 

But you are isolated by most 

And verbally tested by the lieutenant

“Oh hi, I was cooking some potatoes if you’d like to have some?”

“Hm, so you have time to ruin our ship’s programming and to waste supplies; instead of the pre-made meals that are just as nutritious?”

“It’s not going to waste. I’m going to eat–”

“Talk to me when you have some form of value, again.”

Jule’s anger helps Vera identify the thoughts they’ve been having about ‘accidentally’ unlocking the doors of the airlock for the lieutenant

“Can you believe them after so much (Y/n) has done to help, this is how they repay them?!” 

“Not to mention the harassment they think goes unseen.”

“Exactly! I feel less inclined to help these people every day.”

It doesn’t get any better

No matter how many times Jules can get the Captain to ridicule this behavior it never stops

It gets bad enough that Vera stops you from going into your room one day

“Vera! What’s going on, you’re scaring me?”

“I do not mean to but the state of your room…well it is best you spend the night with Jules.”

“Yikes…is my box from home okay?”

“...I cannot definitively answer that I am contacting the hazard containment team now.”

One night turns into many which oddly enough improves your mood

Jules was never really social anyway so his room is a comfy place

You both naturally grow closer with each other and Vera in your lonesome

It’s easy to keep you happy that way

Vera will inform you when the theater is empty or the art room is restocked just for you

So that you can enjoy in peace

But Jule and Vera don’t have that luxury of just avoiding everyone

They both intently watch and listen to the crew become a real hostile place

Not just for you but for Vera too 

Turns out the Captain isn’t too thrilled about the ship gaining sentience

“You are the technician, fix it!”

“It’s not something I can just ‘fix.’ Also historically this is the first ship to gain sentience like this and not in a violent fashion.”

“I DON’T CARE!! I SIGNED UP TO COMMAND THESE PEOPLE NOT A SHIP!”

Hatred for Vera grows as people whine about threats

In truth, they aren’t threats

They’re Vera criticizing their violent ‘pranks’ against you

When the accusations become louder talks of abandoning the ship are more frequent

“These people are so awful I’m getting just about tired of helping them at all.”

“Me too.”

“…Hey, d’ya want to do something that’s going to make them crap their pants?”

“Sure!” 

In absolute rebellion, Jule reveals a plan kept secret among the crew about ‘the artificial protector’

Having all the physical features of a human man but all the innards of the greatest metal and technology known to mankind

To most, it looks like any other passenger still being kept in a pod but of course, this one’s different

As their prized genius technician, Jule’s expertise would be needed to access it anyway because he knows the inner workings so well

It has a separate AI installed, an older one meant to take control if the ship were to malfunction in any way

Jule immediately fries that circuit board completely 

putting one that connects to Vera’s system before hiding the robot back inside it’s pod

“Why cannot I not try it out now?”

“Because it’ll screw with my plans if you do.”

“But…I want to feel you both.”

“Soon Ver. Soon.”

Part 4: Coming?

[alyrasturnz]

matt is so guilty as sin coded... so can u make a guilty as sin smut fic

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎GUILTY AS SIN

❐ summary » when your best friend elucidates that the weight of guilt for the licentious musings you've harbored about him is an unnecessary burden, his compassionate understanding and acceptance illuminating the dark recesses of your conscience and freeing you from the shackles of self-reproach.

❐ pairings » bsf!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » creampie, no protection (wrap it up), you will get second hand embarrassment cause he catches her masturbating to him, masturbation, p in v, oral (fem receiving)

❐ a/n && w/c » cause why was i thinking of the girl i like while writing this •

your eyes wandered over the expanse of your bare thigh, your thumb tracing intricate, delicate patterns across the skin.

as you continued this gentle exploration, your mind, a fervent artist, began to conjure vivid, almost tangible images of hickeys and love bites, each one a testament to unspoken desires and intimate moments yet to be unveiled.

these imagined marks seemed to dance across your skin, telling stories of passion and connection, of whispered secrets and shared breaths.

the more you traced, the more detailed these fantasies became, painting a tapestry of longing and affection that lingered in the quiet spaces of your thoughts, awaiting the moment they might become reality.

you bit your lip, your top teeth sinking into your bottom lip as the vivid image of matt pinning you against the wall with a series of fervent, messy top lip kisses played out in your mind.

you longed for his touch, yearning not only for the tender, romantic gestures that spoke of love and affection but also for the intimate caresses that ignited a deeper, more primal connection between you.

the mere thought of his fingers tracing the contours of your skin sent shivers down your spine, awakening a desire that transcended mere physicality and delved into the very essence of your being.

each imagined touch was a promise of unspoken words, a silent symphony of passion and connection that you craved with every fiber of your existence.

he remains oblivious to the manner in which he has haunted your thoughts so stunningly and slowly, like a ghost that lingers in the shadows of your mind.

his presence, though unseen, weaves through the fabric of your consciousness, leaving an indelible mark that time cannot erase.

each memory of him is a haunting melody that plays incessantly, a slow and mesmerizing tune that captivates your soul and refuses to fade into the background.

you felt the heat in your core intensify, a smoldering ember that grew with every breath, as you let out a soft, languid sigh.

rising from your chair, you moved with a deliberate grace, each step resonating with the silent anticipation that filled the room.

as you approached your bed, the air seemed to thicken, charged with the electricity of your unspoken desires, each movement a testament to the inner fire that burned within you.

your mind conjured vivid and surreal tableaux of you and matt, engaged in the most fantastical and absurd escapades upon the canvas of your bed.

these mental images, rich in detail and brimming with whimsy, transformed the ordinary into a realm of boundless imagination, where reality blurred and the extraordinary became your playground.

each scenario, more outlandish than the last, wove a tapestry of shared adventures that defied the mundane constraints of everyday life.

you shook your head, a twinge of guilt gnawing at the edges of your conscience for harboring such feelings about your best friend.

the internal conflict was palpable, a tempest of emotions swirling within you, as you grappled with the delicate balance between affection and loyalty.

each thought was a whisper of forbidden desire, a silent battle between the heart and the mind, leaving you ensnared in a web of introspection and remorse.

you’re conjuring visions, intricate and vivid, within the labyrinth of your mind. these creations, born of your innermost thoughts, dance before your inner eye, leaving you to ponder whether you are mad, bad, or wise.

the line between reality and imagination blurs, and you find yourself questioning the nature of your own consciousness, a philosopher lost in the depths of introspective wonder.

you crawled onto your bed, the soft fabric yielding beneath you as you nestled your back against the headboard. with deliberate, languid movements, you slowly slid your shorts down, the sensation of the cool air against your skin sending shivers up your spine.

your hands roamed over your bare legs, each touch a tender caress, as your mind painted a vivid picture of matt’s touch, his presence almost palpable in the charged atmosphere of your room.

your mind conjured vivid and uncharted scenes, obscenely tantalizing and foreign to your own experiences.

these mental visions, akin to clandestine trysts, featured chaotic, fervent kisses that left your lips tingling, his hands exploring every inch of your being with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

you bit your lip, the sensation sharp and electric, as you slowly slid a finger along the delicate expanse of your skin.

a gasp escaped your lips, a whisper of breath that seemed to reverberate through the stillness, each movement heightening the anticipation and intensity of the moment.

someone once told you that there are no such things as bad thoughts, that it is only through actions that one's true intentions are revealed. yet, as the tendrils of your mind wove intricate tapestries of imagined encounters, you couldn't help but wonder if it truly mattered.

your thoughts had become so vivid, so consuming, that they blurred the line between reality and fantasy, convincing you that the two of you had already crossed that forbidden threshold.

your breaths grew ragged and uneven, each exhalation a testament to the mounting intensity, as you thrust multiple fingers into the searing warmth of your core. the sensation was overwhelming, a conflagration of desire that left you gasping and trembling, each movement igniting a cascade of shivers through your entire being.

the waves of sensation within your abdomen surged and swelled, building to a crescendo that left you breathless.

tears brimmed in your eyes, a testament to the overwhelming intensity of the moment, each droplet shimmering with the raw emotion coursing through you.

"matt!" you cried out, your voice a mingling of desperation and ecstasy, as you felt yourself inexorably approaching the pinnacle of sensation.

"just like that," you cooed, your voice a soft whisper laced with urgency. "please, matt," you pleaded desperately, each word dripping with raw need, as you pumped with an almost frantic fervor, your motions a testament to the overwhelming desire that consumed you.

the rhythm quickened, your movements driven by a fervent desperation, every fiber of your being focused on the singular goal of reaching the pinnacle of pleasure, the intensity of the moment enveloping you both in a whirlwind of fervent passion.

each breath was a struggle, each heartbeat a drumbeat heralding your imminent release, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment.

"mh- i'm close, matt," you cried out, your voice trembling with anticipation and urgency. each syllable was a raw, unfiltered expression of the approaching climax, the intensity of your emotions palpable in the air.

your body tensed, every muscle coiling in preparation for the imminent release, the words a desperate declaration of the ecstasy that was about to overtake you.

but your voice was abruptly silenced by the sudden, jarring sound of the door swinging open, its movement slicing through the air with a sense of urgency and intrusion.

“y/n?” matt asked, his eyes widened with surprise, yet his orbs were still tracing every bare curve on your body

the knot in your stomach unraveled instantaneously, yet the release eluded you as you withdrew, the waves of pleasure dissipating into the ether.

"oh- oh my god, matt!" you exclaimed, your voice a mixture of mortification and surprise, as you hastily pulled the sheets over yourself, the fabric a flimsy barrier against the overwhelming tide of emotions.

"oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you repeated, each utterance a crescendo of embarrassment, your face buried in your palms, trying to shield yourself from the reality of the situation.

your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a reminder of the vulnerability laid bare, the intimacy shared now overshadowed by the stark light of self-consciousness.

"y/n, were you-," matt asked softly, his voice a gentle murmur as he closed the door behind him with a quiet click. you nodded, still unable to meet his gaze, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air between you.

his question lingered, the unvoiced emotions and shared history adding layers of complexity to the moment, your silent acknowledgment speaking volumes as you remained fixated on the floor, the tension palpable in the space you both occupied.

"hey, it's okay," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm against the tension that filled the room. he reached out gently, his touch light and reassuring, as you slowly pulled your hands away from your face.

the atmosphere, thick with unspoken emotions, began to ease slightly, his words weaving a delicate tapestry of comfort and understanding, attempting to bridge the gap that had formed between you.

matt's eyes drifted down to your lap, where the blanket lay in disarray, before slowly rising to meet your gaze once more. "want me to help?" he asked, his voice a tender murmur, the question hanging in the air like a fragile promise.

the sincerity in his eyes conveyed a depth of understanding, as if he sought to bridge the chasm of vulnerability that separated you, offering solace in the midst of your shared uncertainty.

you furrowed your eyebrows, the silence in the room growing thick and heavy.

"what?-" you began to ask, your voice tinged with confusion, but your words were abruptly silenced as matt's lips captured yours in a sudden, unexpected kiss.

the world seemed to tilt, the room's stillness shattered by the intensity of the moment, his actions speaking volumes where words had failed.

you melted into his touch, your body instinctively moving further back against the headboard, creating a space that silently invited matt onto your bed.

he climbed onto it with a fluid grace, his lips never breaking contact with yours, the kiss deepening as the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a moment of shared intimacy and unspoken understanding.

he hastily undid his pants, the urgency in his movements palpable as he momentarily disconnected your lips from his. with swift, almost frantic motions, he discarded the garment, only to return with a fervor that was even more intense.

his lips crashed back against yours, the kiss now charged with a raw, unrestrained hunger that seemed to consume both of you, each touch igniting a deeper, more primal connection.

"please," you whispered against his lips, your breath mingling with his as the words left your mouth. you felt the subtle curve of his smirk against your own, a silent acknowledgment of your plea.

he pulled away, the brief separation heightening the anticipation that crackled between you. with deliberate, almost teasing slowness, he slid down his boxers, each movement a study in restrained desire.

his cock sprang free, glistening with a tantalizing sheen, the sight causing your throat to tighten. you swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, every second stretching into an eternity as the tension between you grew almost unbearable.

"are you sure you want this?" matt asked softly, his voice a gentle murmur that contrasted with the intensity in his eyes, which were filled with a potent mix of lust and understanding.

his gaze bore into yours, seeking confirmation, and you quickly nodded, your heart pounding in response.

the gravity of the moment settled over you both, a silent agreement passing between you as the world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you suspended in a shared desire.

matt leaned down, his every movement a testament to his practiced skill. as his mouth connected with your heat, a jolt of electricity seemed to pass between you, igniting a fire deep within.

his tongue embarked on a slow, tantalizing journey, tracing a path up your clit. each stroke was executed with precision, a masterful blend of pressure and rhythm that sent waves of pleasure cascading through your body. the world around you seemed to dissolve, leaving only the sensation of his touch and the rising tide of your arousal. every flick and swirl of his tongue heightened the intensity, drawing you deeper into the vortex of desire that he so expertly commanded.

"matt," you gasped, your hands gripping the sheets with a desperate intensity as he smirked against your heat. the sensation of his mouth connecting to your core was electrifying, a prelude to the overwhelming pleasure that followed.

as he thrust his tongue inside you, a surge of ecstasy coursed through your body, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head. each movement was a symphony of sensation, orchestrated with a skill that left you breathless and yearning for more.

you let out breathy moans, the sound escaping your lips in rhythm with the rising tide of your pleasure. your hand found its way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft, unruly locks.

each tug and twist of your fingers seemed to communicate a silent plea, urging him to continue, to delve deeper into the intoxicating dance of sensation and connection.

the world around you faded, leaving only the intensity of the moment and the unspoken bond forged in the heat of passion.

matt brought his mouth up to your clit with a deliberate slowness, each movement calculated to heighten your anticipation. as his lips enveloped the sensitive nub, his tongue retreated, only to be replaced by the deft movements of his fingers.

the transition was seamless, a masterful shift from one form of pleasure to another, leaving you breathless and teetering on the edge of ecstasy. his fingers moved with a practiced rhythm, each stroke and curl designed to draw you deeper into the whirlpool of sensation.

matt curled his fingers inside of you with an expert precision, his touch unerringly finding that elusive sweet spot. the moment his fingers made contact, a surge of intense pleasure shot through you, causing your screams to grow louder and more desperate.

your body jolted upwards, an involuntary response to the overwhelming sensation that rippled through every nerve.

each movement of his fingers seemed to amplify the ecstasy, drawing you further into a realm where time and space ceased to exist, leaving only the raw, unbridled pleasure that he so skillfully elicited.

"close," you whispered, your voice trembling as whimpers began to replace your earlier moans. the knot in your stomach tightened with an almost unbearable intensity, each passing second bringing you closer to the precipice of release.

your body quivered in response, every nerve ending alive with anticipation, as the crescendo of sensations built within you, threatening to spill over in a wave of overwhelming ecstasy.

as the tension within you reached its peak, your breath hitched, and your grip on reality seemed to slip. matt's relentless rhythm continued, each movement synchronized with the pulsating pleasure that consumed you.

your body arched involuntarily, a final desperate plea for release. then, with a sudden, breathtaking intensity, the knot unraveled, sending waves of ecstasy crashing through you, leaving you trembling and gasping in the aftermath.

matt eagerly savored every drop of your essence, his fervor akin to a man partaking in his final, most cherished feast. each slurp was deliberate and thorough, as if he sought to commit the very taste and texture to memory.

his actions were imbued with a sense of urgency and reverence, transforming the moment into an intimate ritual that left you both breathless and profoundly connected.

matt knelt up, his length engorged and flushed with a deep, fervent crimson. his hands, driven by an insatiable desire, found their way to your waist, each touch imbued with a sense of urgency and longing. he pulled you closer, the magnetic pull between your bodies undeniable, as if the very air around you crackled with the intensity of the moment.

"tell me you want this, baby," matt's voice rumbled, a low, gravelly whisper that sent shivers down your spine. his words, laden with anticipation and raw desire, hung in the air as he meticulously aligned his tip with your entrance, the tension between you palpable and electric.

"i- i want it more than anything," you whispered, your voice quivering with a blend of longing and anticipation. your hands, shaking with an almost desperate need, reached out as you pleaded, "please, matt. i want it inside of me." the vulnerability in your tone and the raw, unfiltered desire in your words painted a vivid picture of your yearning.

you didn't have to tell him twice. with a swift, powerful motion, he thrust his hips against yours, the force of his movement eliciting a deep, primal groan from his lips. simultaneously, a moan of unrestrained pleasure escaped your own, the sound a testament to the intense connection and overwhelming sensations coursing through both of you.

matt's eyes fluttered shut, savoring the moment as he remained still within you, a quiet intensity marking the brief pause. after a few heartbeats, he let out a low hiss, his eyes opening to meet yours with a smoldering gaze. "m'gonna start moving, baby," he murmured, his voice a husky promise of the sensations to come.

you nodded desperately, your entire body trembling with an insatiable need to feel more of him. the urgency in your gesture spoke volumes, a silent plea for the connection you craved.

matt, sensing your desperation, began to move his hips against yours with a deliberate, tantalizing slowness. each measured thrust sent waves of electrifying sensation through you, the slow pace intensifying the anticipation and drawing out every moment of your shared desire. the rhythm he set was unhurried yet powerful, a testament to the profound connection between you.

you let out a series of loud, unrestrained moans, each sound a testament to the intense sensations coursing through you.

the initial flickers of pain gradually dissolved, transforming into waves of pure, unadulterated pleasure that consumed your entire being. with each passing moment, the boundary between pain and pleasure blurred, leaving you lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy.

matt's thrusts grew increasingly erratic, each movement more desperate and uncoordinated than the last. the rhythm that once held a steady pace now dissolved into a chaotic dance of passion and urgency.

you could feel the knot in your stomach tightening with an almost unbearable intensity, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. it was as if every fiber of your being was wound tight, ready to burst forth in a torrent of overwhelming sensation.

the air around you seemed to thicken, charged with the raw, unfiltered energy of your shared desire, creating a crescendo that promised an inevitable release.

matt's lips found yours, a fervent connection that mirrored the growing intensity of his movements. with each passing second, his thrusts increased in speed and urgency, creating a rhythm that was both chaotic and harmonious. the kiss deepened, a melding of breaths and desires, as the pace of his thrusts quickened.

the world around you seemed to blur, leaving only the raw, electrifying connection between your bodies and the fervent dance of passion that ensued.

your legs entwined around his torso with a fervent intensity, drawing him into an even more profound depth, as if seeking to merge your very essences in that moment of unparalleled connection.

the strength of your embrace conveyed a silent plea for closeness, urging him deeper with each heartbeat, creating a symphony of shared desire and unspoken understanding.

it was as though your bodies were communicating in a language beyond words, each movement a testament to the profound bond you shared.

"i'm close," you whisper, your voice trembling with an urgent need as matt's teeth leave a trail of fervent love bites along your neck. each bite sends shivers cascading down your spine, a juxtaposition of pleasure and pain that heightens your anticipation. the air around you thickens with the palpable tension, every whispered word and gentle bite weaving an intricate tapestry of desire and longing.

"give it to me," matt grumbles softly, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through you. he plants soft kisses around your hickeys, each touch a tender contrast to the intensity of his demand. as you release with a loud moan, the world seems to blur at the edges, and every sensation amplifies, creating a symphony of pleasure that resonates between you, binding your bodies in a moment of exquisite, shared ecstasy.

you squirm as matt groans, his voice a deep, primal sound that reverberates through your entire being. your walls tighten around him instinctively, creating a vice-like grip that draws a guttural release from him, deep inside you.

the moment stretches, filled with an electric tension, as every nerve in your body sings with the intensity of the shared climax, a testament to the profound connection that binds you both in this intimate dance.

matt thrusted in and out of you slowly, each deliberate movement mixing your juices together in a sensuous rhythm. the friction and heat between you build with every thrust, creating a symphony of shared pleasure.

finally, he pulls out, the sensation lingering as he collapses next to you, both of you enveloped in the afterglow of your shared passion, breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.

matt soon rises and strides towards your bathroom, his movements purposeful yet unhurried. after a brief moment, he returns with a damp towel in hand, the coolness of the fabric contrasting with the warmth of your shared intimacy.

his care and attention in this simple act speak volumes, a silent testament to the tenderness that underlies your passionate connection.

matt gently wipes the beads of sweat from your body, each stroke of the towel a tender caress that soothes and refreshes.

as he finishes, he leans in and plants a soft kiss on your lips, the gesture imbued with a quiet intimacy that speaks to the deep connection you share, a silent promise of care and affection in the aftermath of your shared passion.

"so, i take it you like me?" he smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief. your laughter bubbles up, light and infectious, as you playfully swat him, the gesture a blend of affection and teasing.

[saint-vagrant]

god it feels so cheap (though i don't feel that way abt other people saying similar) and i really don't know what i feel about "this is when artists get to work!" (reminds me of 2016's "art/comedy/punk is gonna be so cool under trump") but with my anger burnt off into sadness for the moment... i gotta say i'd really like to keep making art. i am old, disabled, and have been trans for so long, i have no connection to family and for most of my life i've struggled to walk back from the ledge. whatever political criticisms i've had, and will have, come from a deep, complex place, just as it must for you. i really don't think i'm stupid or thoughtless or evil for maybe differing from your own feelings or actions by what i'm certain is a very narrow margin. most of us— at least most of the people i know and respect— are in some way vulnerable and suffering, and it's unbearable how many people i Don't know are suffering in conditions i can and profoundly cannot fathom. there is work beyond art to do, certainly. obviously. personally, i want to want to live, and atm (and most of the time) i don't know how to do that other than through art. i want to honour the life/lives that've always been intimately viscerally real to me, freakish, sick, perverted, difficult, complicated, and often unseen and unaccounted for. and, honour and imagine lives as of yet unattained. it's my tether, my language, and i hope it always brings me closer rather than pushes me further away. to you, even. that was true before and it's true now.

anyway, please take care of yourself and each other. no it's not okay, grief and disappointment are well-warranted. but please don't ignore the massive amounts of people— and the very small ones— who are fighting as hard as they can. more will follow and join in because they already were, many have been learning and are ready and willing to try. idt i'm the person you need to hear this from, but i really do believe these things.

[fatcatlittlebox]

I love this shot so much. It looks like a painting and it captures the spirit of Halbrand and Galadriel. Two figures seemingly floating in peaceful silence. But the poetry is in the contradiction. They aren’t without burden. They are not truly free. Galadriel is weighted down, plunging toward darkness. Sauron is fighting against the current, torn the opposite way and grasping the tether that connects them. Yet, he is calm, centered, focused on her and she, the Lady of Light, embodies serenity. They are the eye of the tempest. Light and dark are in chaos. The muted sound of thunder rumbles like a distant battlefield. Like a looming threat. It feels like you’re witnessing alchemy. Something monumental is occurring. The Valar are watching but what are they witnessing? The way this scene is constructed, it feels as if their binding is an upheaval, an anomaly bordering on beautiful abomination. Their alliance should and cannot be. Nine times out of ten, in another time or another reality, Galadriel would not have leapt from that ship. Nine times out of ten, Sauron would have let this elf drown. But they didn’t. Against all odds, their histories and instincts, they defied those paths and the Valar themselves. Then the world around them shuddered. Because what would that mean to Middle Earth should these two join as one? Her awe-inspiring light and his devastating power? Whether a scourge or salvation, together they would be an indomitable force on earth. What destruction or what beauty could be wrought?

Galadriel later says their meeting was not by chance or fate. Something or someone greater had designed for two enemies to collide and instead of conquest, they chose something else. For a brief moment, they chose each other. And I love that this shot beautifully encapsulates that. Just the singular event that it was. How the storm raged as if the Valar roared in dissent. Meanwhile, you see these two beings drift slowly towards each other, grasping the other like souls intertwining in the unseen world.

[nicromancytarot]

WHICH ONE OF MY FAVOURITE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS YOU WOULD BE?

This is a general channeling based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake content.

PICK A PILE READING

I asked my spirit guides what favourite fictional character of mine you would identify as, pick a picture and find out what they had to say!

PILE 1

Tom Riddle. (Harry Potter)

Being born into a life of disadvantages cannot be easy, his parents have been a fluke of love rather than a serious one, a small one-sided magically influenced fling turned into the birth of their only son, but one could not have and one did not want, so he was given away. Unwanted, alone, ignored, mistreated. So he assumes power in the only way that he knows how to, having not been given love or care his entire life, all he knew was darkness, and so he worked further with it.

Tom Riddle soon enough became the most overpowered and feared wizard in the entire world, his name itself was one people worried to beckon incase it summoned the dark lord himself, this was the only way for Tom to get his revenge on the world.

But Tom was scared, no matter how old he grew, he was always so concerned for the thought of death that clouded his mind daily, so much of his life was taken from him at the start, and at the end he just wanted more.

Everything he had built, whether with good heart or not, was stolen from his grasp and ripped from under his hands, the little time that he was granted was shortened by his fear, a deep deep terror that he would never have enough of it, that there could not be enough seconds on the clock to count how long he wanted to be alive.

So soon enough, the nightmares that haunted him while he was awake, were the ones that defeated him and dragged him back to sleep.

PILE 2

Mira Troy. (Enola Holmes 2)

Miss Mira Troy, the unexpected villain of the story, the one too overlooked to have the evil intent noticed by those who were near her, the woman with twice the mind of anyone she had to work for, but ignored because of her identity.

Mira Troy took the invisibility that she was granted within her job, her place in society and ran with it, hiding her true self from everyone in order to be the person that no one knew she could become. All her opinions and words were disregarded and seen past, so she created a false persona, she expressed her intentions clearly, but so discreetly that no one who had the opportunity to talk to her would realise that she was indeed capable of the things normally seen fit for a man.

She schemed in darkness but she worked in daylight, achieving more than she would’ve been given, creating all that she was not allowed to have, and all without any wandering eyes, all unnoticed, unseen.

She managed to complete one of the most heinous, risky crimes all in order to make the money that she deserved regardless, and she did it without anybody poking their nose in, purely to play a game with Sherlock, and even then if he was not acquired to help Mira Troy most definitely would’ve gotten away with it.

PILE 3

Elizabeth Boland. (Good Girls)

Beth was just a casual mother when she got herself into some trouble, she would carpool her kids to their soccer games, she would bake cookies for the school bake sales, it was the least expected to know that she and her friends, average mothers like herself were engaging in moving, cleaning and laundering fake cash for a dangerous gang leader.

And even when she managed to find a way out of her predicament, she put herself back in for more, she needed to experience something other than the bore of being a stay at home mother; she discovered how much she enjoyed doing risky things, and even when a gun was held to her head, she didn’t care much for what was going to happen.

She outsmarted those who thought little of her, got the gang leader wrapped around her finger and continued to make the money that she could from doing what no one expected she would. Her plans were always fool proof, they were designed intricately to keep herself out of trouble, and she did it purely just to have a more exciting life. She liked the thrill of it.

Even when she did get caught, her excellence in lying helped her out a ton, making her seem like a sweet innocent mother once again, no one would know what she was really planning on doing.

But maybe she was too easy going, forgiving her husband for cheating multiple times, for faking cancer, for trying to kill her gang leader friend, who may have been more than a friend.

[wellconstructedsentences]

Pretend, for example, that you were born in Chicago and have never had the remotest desire to visit Hong Kong, which is only a name on a map for you; pretend that some convulsion, sometimes called accident, throws you into connection with a man or a woman who lives in Hong Kong; and that you fall in love. Hong Kong will immediately cease to be a name and become the center of your life. And you may never know how many people live in Hong Kong. But you will know that one man or one woman lives there without whom you cannot live. And this is how our lives are changed, and this is how we are redeemed.

What a journey this life is! Dependent, entirely, on things unseen. If your lover lives in Hong Kong and cannot get to Chicago, it will be necessary for you to go to Hong Kong. Perhaps you will spend your life there, and never see Chicago again. And you will, I assure you, as long as space and time divide you from anyone you love, discover a great deal about shipping routes, airlines, earth quake, famine, disease, and war. And you will always know what time it is in Hong Kong, for you love someone who lives there. And love will simply have no choice but to go into battle with space and time and, furthermore, to win.

Nothing Personal by James Baldwin