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the-cosmic-cauldron · 2 days ago

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☹︎𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕊𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟 ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥 & 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕃𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕘𝕘𝕝𝕖 ☹︎

Welcome to 10 Days, 10 Posts from The Cosmic Cauldron! Over the next ten days, I’ll be sharing a blend of astrology and tarot posts, each designed to spark your curiosity and guide your journey. If you find my content interesting, fascinating, or engaging, be sure to click the follow button for more! Ready to dive deeper into your personal journey? Head to my homepage and book a reading — you won’t regret it.

1️⃣🏠

People with Saturn in the first house often face struggles when it comes to self-expression, and these challenges can start at a young age. They may feel stifled when interacting with others, finding it difficult to connect. They could be shy, reserved, and experience stage fright or fear of being seen, leading them to hide away or blend in to avoid standing out. These individuals may feel embarrassed over small things that others don’t find embarrassing and often struggle with self-esteem, especially concerning how their peers perceive them.

There may have been negative feedback from peers during their formative years—perhaps they were seen as misfits, or maybe they grew up in poverty, wearing worn or tattered clothing that led to teasing. Physical traits like a noticeable birthmark or speech impediment could also make them feel self-conscious. They may have had a difficult time expressing their true selves, especially if they grew up in a strict or religious household that suppressed their individuality. In such environments, parents may have overlooked their true identity, expecting them to conform to rigid rules and regulations, even down to what they wore.

As they get older, these struggles can continue, making it hard to perform in job interviews or communicate effectively. There may be anxiety surrounding talking about themselves, explaining their ideas, or simply interacting in social situations. Insecurity can create a sense of difficulty in finding their true identity, and it may take longer for them to discover who they are and how they want to express themselves to the world. Throughout life, they may go through phases of changing their identity based on their environment or the expectations placed on them, but a true sense of self-expression may not fully ground until later in life.

In some cases, they may face gossip or backlash, with rumors or false information being spread about them. This can lead to feelings of isolation and avoidance of the world. Saturn in the first house can make them prone to hiding away, avoiding being seen, and struggling to show up authentically. One of their biggest challenges can be figuring out who they are and how to express that to others. There may also be a lack of clarity or confidence in their communication, and they might struggle with fear and hesitation, preventing them from stepping up and achieving their goals. This fear of being seen and fear of success can hold them back from truly embracing their potential.

2️⃣🏠

With Saturn in the second House, your background may not matter; struggles with resources can occur in any situation. Perhaps you were the child who wasn’t given the same gifts or attention as others. Maybe you were mistreated or isolated when it came to things like getting new clothes, or you wore hand-me-downs while your siblings received new clothes. You may have felt neglected when it came to basic needs, such as having lunch packed by your parents, and perhaps you received less food than others. Financial struggles may have been present in your family, leading to a constant feeling of restriction around resources. You might have wanted something that your parents couldn’t afford, or you wanted to do something, but there were financial limitations. There were often restrictions on what you could get or where your family could obtain these resources.

This could also manifest in a strict religious household, where the rules were heavily focused on aligning with religious practices. You might have felt like you couldn’t do much because your parents were focused on enforcing those rules. Perhaps you were forced to follow a religion that didn’t resonate with you, but instead felt oppressive, suppressing your authenticity.

Economic struggles might have been a significant part of your experience, causing you to work early or take a job at a young age in order to get the things you wanted. If your parents couldn’t afford them, you had to find your own way to earn money. You may have taken physically demanding jobs, working long hours and coming home tired and exhausted. There could have been a constant struggle for financial freedom, with restrictions surrounding money. You may have felt like money was difficult to come by, or that you couldn’t utilize it in the way you wanted.

This placement can also bring fears or inhibitions around money. You may hold on to it too tightly, becoming possessive or frugal, and struggle with spending or giving money away. There may be a belief that giving money to others brings karmic consequences or that it isn’t beneficial. This can make you hesitant to share your resources with others, leading to stinginess.

Overall, Saturn in the second House can cause someone to feel fearful or restricted when it comes to money and resources. It might take years for them to feel financially secure or successful, and even longer to feel that they have the resources to live comfortably.

3️⃣🏠

With Saturn in the Third House, you may have a difficult relationship with your siblings. Perhaps your siblings were more popular or received more attention than you, or maybe you felt like a misfit among them, with personalities that didn’t seem to match. This could have made you feel isolated from your family, like the black sheep growing up, as though you didn’t quite fit in.

This placement can also indicate struggles in communication, which might affect your relationships. You could have difficulty expressing yourself in the way you want or feel unheard when you speak. There might be issues such as a speech impediment, or you could be a fast talker or talk very slowly. These challenges could extend to reading and processing information, particularly with concentration. You might have struggled to focus in school, feeling fidgety or getting in trouble for talking in class. Early on, you may have found it hard to keep up with your peers academically. Perhaps you had a learning disability or had difficulty understanding the curriculum. You might have needed extra help, such as tutors, and struggled with completing homework. A lack of support from your community might have hindered your progress in school.

You may have grown up in a difficult community environment, surrounded by people facing financial hardship, substance abuse, deceitful behavior, or violence. These challenges could have also occurred within your own home, such as constant arguments between your parents. These experiences might have affected how you communicate—either making you more aggressive in your speech or causing you to shut down when others raise their voices. You may have had issues with neighbors, such as disputes that involved police intervention. Perhaps a childhood friend passed away early, or it took your family a long time to find a stable, safe living environment.

As you grew older, learning may have remained a struggle. You could have been a slower learner or had difficulty picking up new skills quickly. It might have taken you longer than others in the same field to achieve success or recognition. You may have found it challenging to get your ideas across, and it may take time for you to refine your thoughts and your communication style. Learning to communicate in a way that works for you may have been a long process, as you refined your thinking and practiced expressing yourself in ways that served you best.

All of these struggles and obstacles in your early life could have shaped you, and as you get older, you may need to find ways to learn and communicate that align with your unique needs, allowing you to digest information and refine your skills at your own pace.

4️⃣🏠

With Saturn in the 4th house, there can be significant restrictions when it comes to your home life. Perhaps your home never felt like a place of comfort, and you may have felt that you had to suppress many aspects of yourself just to exist around your family. You might have grown up with strict parents who adhered to rigid rules and regulations, imposing disciplinary measures to ensure you followed the path they set for you. This left little room for creativity or pursuing your own desires. You may have felt that your parents were fixated on success and results, unable to love and accept you for who you were, which may have led to a tendency toward perfectionism and high performance later in life.

It’s also possible that your family comes from a lineage with strict adherence to religious rules, laws, or regulations. Many of your ancestors may have struggled with living freely, often being controlled either by external forces or by family members restricting their independence. This placement could indicate a father who was particularly disciplinary and emotionally distant. He may not have allowed you to express yourself emotionally, and the mother could have also been dismissive of your feelings, not understanding why you felt the way you did.

The environment at home might have been very serious, with little room for lightheartedness. Your parents could have been overly serious, impeding your fun and creativity, leaving you feeling unsupported and as though your home was not a place of comfort. You might have grown up in a house that felt uncomfortable—perhaps a dirty or cluttered home, or one where basic needs, like a bed, food, or electricity, were lacking.

This could translate into a pattern of feeling restricted and dependent on your family as an adult. You might find it frustrating, as if you can’t escape your family no matter how hard you try, always being drawn back in. There are likely many lessons to learn within the family dynamic, but there may also be cycles of dysfunction and toxicity that remain unresolved for a long time. It may feel like an uphill battle, and you might feel the need to distance yourself from your family, only to be pulled back in due to circumstances such as a sick family member, like a grandmother or parent, who needs your support.

As you age, security will become a major focus for you, and you may find yourself stressed about creating your own family. Some individuals with this placement experience fertility issues, such as hormonal imbalances, PCOS, or endometriosis, which can affect their ability to start their own family. Others might feel isolated and alone at times, feeling disconnected from their family or even being abandoned or neglected. This can lead to challenges in dealing with these feelings, whether you are the one ghosting your family or experiencing neglect from them.

5️⃣🏠

With Saturn in the Fifth House, growing up, there could have been themes around pleasure that were restricted. Perhaps there was a taboo surrounding your ability to enjoy yourself, or your parents didn’t fully support your enjoyment. There might have been periods where fun and enjoyment were encouraged, followed by times that were strict, boring, and full of struggle. It was never consistent, and fun couldn’t be maintained.

This placement could also suggest restrictions when it came to exploring your creativity as a child. If you were interested in things like music, art, or photography, you might not have had the support or resources to pursue these interests. Your environment may not have been conducive to creative exploration, and you may have had to find ways to support yourself in pursuing these activities on your own.

Saturn in the Fifth House can also indicate delayed sexual experiences. You might have lost your virginity later in life or had delayed or restricted sexual experiences. Even if you had sexual experiences earlier, it may have taken you a while to fully enjoy them and feel comfortable in your body. You may have struggled to connect with your sexual pleasure until later in life.

People with this placement may also feel that they don’t have much luck in life. It can feel as though things never go the way you want, and you might experience a streak of bad luck. Additionally, you may have struggled with finances, making it difficult to afford entertainment. Perhaps your family could only afford simple activities, like going to a diner or enjoying occasional, inexpensive outings, and you cherished these memories because they weren’t consistent.

Saturn in the Fifth House could also point to challenges with having children. It might take you longer to conceive, or you may experience difficult pregnancies. For some, pregnancies can be long and challenging, leading to health complications or requiring extra responsibility. If you do have children, motherhood may initially be a difficult and frustrating experience. It could take time to adjust, and you might face depression and struggles to meet your own standards as a mother.

Furthermore, this placement can make it hard to express yourself through art. You may have a perfectionist mindset when it comes to creative work, making it difficult to bring your artistic vision to life. Even if you have natural talent, it might take a long time to refine your skills. You might be a great singer, but your recordings don’t showcase your full ability. You could be an excellent artist, but it may take time to create work that resonates with others or meets your own standards. There could be a disconnect between the art you envision in your mind and the art you’re able to produce in reality.

6️⃣🏠

With Saturn in the Sixth House, you may have felt that your lifestyle growing up was restricted compared to what you envisioned or would have liked. Perhaps you were outcast in your school setting, or your life was different from your peers. For some people, this placement may indicate growing up with a single mother or father, or experiencing the loss of a parent early on, leading you to be raised in an adopted family or foster care. You could have had a different lifestyle than others, such as being raised by an LGBTQIA couple, or being the only Black person in an all-White school, or the only White person in an all-Black school. Your upbringing likely felt distinct from that of your peers.

This placement could also suggest that you matured faster than others due to the heavy responsibilities placed on you from an early age. You might have cared for a parent, grandparent, or another family member, or you may have been the sibling responsible for looking after others. This could mean that you had to play the role of a parent while your parents worked or were otherwise occupied. Early on, you may have had many responsibilities—your name might have been put on bills, and you may have been expected to help make money or assist with household tasks. You might have had an excessive number of chores compared to other children your age, or your parents might have enrolled you in various activities, leaving little room for relaxation or exploration. Your routine was likely very structured, with little time to simply be a kid, have fun, or imagine. You could have been constantly moving from school to extracurricular activities like piano practice, and felt that you had little room to pursue things you enjoyed.

As a child, you may have had a parent who imposed strict dietary restrictions or even tried to make you lose weight in unhealthy ways. Your body could have been a topic of constant discussion, leading you to feel uncomfortable with your physical appearance. Weight fluctuations could have been a source of stress, perhaps with periods of being very skinny or gaining weight unexpectedly. You might have been bullied for your background or lifestyle, especially if your appearance highlighted the differences in your life compared to others.

This placement can also indicate health issues during childhood. You may have experienced frequent pain, such as leg pain, earaches, or stomach issues. There could have been a pattern of breaking bones or visiting the doctor often. You might have had allergies, asthma, or another chronic condition that kept you in and out of medical offices. There could have also been health issues within your family, such as a parent who developed a serious illness, like cancer from smoking. Access to proper healthcare might have been a struggle, and there may have been difficulties getting the right diagnoses or treatments.

As you grew older, you might have struggled to figure out what you truly wanted to pursue in life. You may have sacrificed your own dreams to meet your parents’ expectations or follow their advice. School could have taken up much of your time, with a heavy focus on getting good grades, entering a prestigious college, and securing a good job. Your time in school might have been marked by setbacks, like not getting into the college you wanted and having to settle for another. Once in college, you may have had to support yourself financially, working while studying. Even after entering the workforce, it may have taken a long time for you to find stability. Work might have been demanding, with long hours, overtime, and slow progress in terms of promotions or raises. Balancing work and life could have been challenging, and you may have struggled to establish a healthy work-life balance, often feeling overwhelmed by the demands of your career.

7️⃣🏠

For people with Saturn in the 7th house, they may have grown up without witnessing healthy partnerships. Their parents may have been separated at a young age, divorced, or simply not gotten along. The partnership between their parents might have felt detached or distant, lacking a close connection. Growing up, they might have felt more connected to one parent than the other, but even that parent could have been distant or inconsistent. There could have been a difficult relationship with the parent they felt closest to—perhaps that parent was absent or hard to connect with, and communication was limited or restricted. Despite yearning for a closer bond, they might not have felt confident around that parent.

This placement can also suggest challenges with early childhood relationships. These individuals might have struggled to get along with peers, facing dislike or issues from others for no apparent reason. Their personality or simply their existence may have caused people to distance themselves, gossip negatively about them, or have unexplainable conflicts. There may have been a strange relationship with their parents, characterized by moments of closeness followed by challenging periods where they didn’t get along, leading to a loss of connection. Parents may have expected a lot from them, and they might have struggled to meet those expectations, feeling as though they failed in their parents’ eyes.

Growing up, there may have been a strong connection with one person—whether a friend or romantic interest—but that connection could have been short-lived. The person they were close to might have moved away, or they may have experienced rejection from people they had crushes on. They could have placed a lot of importance on relationships, wanting something long-term, but it may have been difficult for them to maintain such relationships. As a teenager, they might have taken relationships seriously, seeking commitment, but those relationships were often challenging and lacked excitement. The partner may have introduced restrictions in their life, such as influencing their diet or encouraging unhealthy habits, like starving themselves or going on restrictive diets. These relationships may have been limiting, making it hard for them to pursue their own interests and goals.

It can be difficult for these individuals to view relationships in a healthy light because they often feel that relationships restrict their freedom. They may struggle to maintain healthy connections, meeting people they bond with but quickly losing those connections due to various obstacles. It may take a long time for them to form solid, committed relationships. Even long-term friendships may go through rocky periods, with falling outs or conflicts of interest, leading to isolation. They may often feel distant from others, craving connection but struggling to feel truly connected.

These individuals may also hold onto toxic relationships because they deeply value connection, even if the relationship is unhealthy. They might attract people who are transactional, coming around only to take advantage of their kindness without offering genuine love or reciprocity. Additionally, they may struggle with their own identity, often absorbing the behaviors of those around them rather than forming their own sense of self. This can make it hard for them to distinguish who they truly are, as they are highly influenced by their environment and tend to mimic the people they are around.

Their friendships can have a significant impact on their lives, often turning sour and causing negative outcomes when they are surrounded by the wrong people. They may be more prone to being in abusive or controlling relationships, where their partner demands a lot of them or imposes strict rules. These relationships can feel restrictive and stifle their freedom. Overall, individuals with Saturn in the 7th house may struggle to maintain healthy relationships with their parents, friends, and romantic partners. They might find themselves attracting people who dislike them for no apparent reason, or they might experience conflicts that arise from their inability to establish a strong, independent identity. It can take time for them to develop a clear sense of self and build healthy, balanced relationships.

8️⃣🏠

For people with Saturn in the 8th house, childhood may have been marked by financial instability or parental debt. Their parents might have owed a lot of money, frequently borrowed funds, or engaged in frivolous spending, such as using shopping as emotional therapy. This pattern may have created a household dynamic where financial struggles were a persistent issue. In some cases, the family may have faced a cycle of accruing and repaying debt, leaving a lasting impression on the individual.

There may have also been tension and resentment between the parents. Their relationship could have been characterized by intense highs and lows—a love-hate dynamic where unresolved emotions created a palpable sense of unease. The individual likely felt this tension but couldn’t always pinpoint its source. Resentment may have extended to other family relationships, such as a mother harboring issues with her own mother or a strained relationship between the parents and in-laws. These unresolved emotional issues likely created an environment where the person felt unable to fully trust or relax, contributing to a lifelong sense of distrust in their surroundings.

In some cases, this placement indicates a single parent, often a mother, who took on the bulk of financial and emotional responsibilities. If both parents were present, one may have shouldered most of the burden while the other contributed little, either emotionally or financially. Alternatively, the family may have been traditional, with one parent working and the other staying home. Regardless of the family dynamic, financial strain was likely a recurring theme.

Inheritance and family finances might also have played a complex role in their life. Money or assets intended for them may have been withheld, contested, or difficult to access due to family disputes or hidden information. They may have discovered an inheritance only later in life or had to fight to claim what was rightfully theirs. These challenges further reinforce feelings of distrust and frustration surrounding money and familial connections.

Emotional dynamics within the household were likely complicated, with unresolved trauma or secrets impacting the individual deeply. For instance, they may have been dragged into their parents’ toxic relationship, which could have included infidelity, secret affairs, or hidden resentments. This could lead to feelings of vulnerability and confusion about their emotional environment, resulting in a lifelong struggle to trust others and fully open up.

As adults, individuals with Saturn in the 8th house often crave deep, intimate connections but find them challenging to establish or maintain. They may experience fleeting or surface-level relationships, particularly ones centered around physical intimacy without emotional depth. Even when they find someone they deeply connect with, obstacles may arise, such as emotional unavailability, trust issues, or toxic dynamics. They may fear vulnerability, and when they do open up, they risk being taken advantage of, which can make trust even harder to rebuild.

Trust issues often extend to their finances and relationships. They might experience difficulties managing money, feeling perpetually in debt or struggling to get ahead financially. Relationships may exacerbate this, as partnerships could lead to financial losses or feelings of restriction. It may take significant time and effort to achieve financial stability or escape the cycle of debt.

Sexuality and intimacy can also be challenging areas. They may feel uncomfortable expressing their sexuality openly or struggle to balance their desires with emotional vulnerability. While they may feel at ease with more casual or physical expressions of intimacy, being deeply sentimental and romantic can be difficult. This often stems from a fear of rejection or exploitation, causing them to hold back in intimate relationships.

Trauma and emotional pain from the past can linger for a long time, making healing a slow and challenging process. Individuals with Saturn in the 8th house may find themselves stuck in cycles of pain, unable to move past early experiences of hurt or betrayal. Progressing toward emotional healing and trust may take years of effort, but with perseverance, they can learn to transform these difficulties into strength and resilience.

9️⃣🏠

With Saturn in the 9th house, it could feel like you grew up in a household where you lacked the freedom to explore your own beliefs. Religious or philosophical systems may have been imposed on you, leaving little room for self-discovery. Your parents may have tried to suppress parts of your identity, including your sexuality, using strict or dogmatic belief systems. In some cases, this could have led to emotional abuse or mistreatment justified by their rigid ideologies.

Your parents might not have had much education themselves. They could have been immigrants or individuals who didn’t complete high school, which may have made it challenging for them to find stable employment. As a result, your family may have faced frequent moves, evictions, or an inability to maintain a consistent home. This instability could mean that “home” was never a fixed or secure place for you.

Growing up, you might have been taken everywhere your parents went because they couldn’t afford childcare, babysitters, or after-school programs. This could have exposed you to adult themes or environments that weren’t suited for a child, leaving you feeling out of place or uncomfortable. Additionally, your parents may have engaged in unconventional spiritual practices that felt unusual or unsettling, even to your younger self.

Alternatively, your parents could have been overly focused on their own studies or careers. They may have been teachers, full-time workers pursuing higher education, or simply drained from their own academic or professional responsibilities. This likely left them with little energy or time to be present with you in the way you needed.

As you grow older, you may find traveling to be a source of fear or discomfort. You might avoid flying, boats, or long-distance travel due to anxiety, motion sickness, or a lack of resources, such as time or money. These challenges can make it difficult to explore the world freely, even if you have the desire to do so.

In terms of education, pursuing higher learning might feel like an uphill battle. You may struggle in college due to financial stress, balancing work and studies, or the rigorous nature of your chosen degree. This placement can lead to delays or setbacks in completing your education.

When it comes to your spiritual or philosophical beliefs, you might find yourself questioning and exploring for a long time before settling on a path that resonates with you. You may dabble in different religions or spiritual practices, unsure of where you truly belong. This indecision could also extend to other areas of life, leaving you feeling aimless or uncertain about your purpose.

People with Saturn in the 9th house may initially have a restricted worldview, struggling to be open-minded or appreciative of alternative perspectives. You may cling to what you believe is “right” and have difficulty accepting other viewpoints. Over time, however, life experiences can help you develop a broader understanding and a more open mindset.

This placement can also make it challenging to assert yourself or stand up for your beliefs. You might avoid confrontation, finding it difficult to advocate for yourself or others. As a result, you may come across as meek or overly cautious. This struggle to assert your beliefs and values could lead to a lack of confidence and a sense of being ungrounded.

It may take time and effort for you to find your purpose and direction in life. You might go through a period of trial and error, experimenting with different jobs, living situations, relationships, or belief systems before discovering what truly resonates with you. Building self-belief and confidence will likely be a gradual process, but it is one that ultimately leads to growth and stability.

1️⃣0️⃣🏠

With Saturn in the 10th house, you may have grown up with a mother who was very strict and focused on discipline. She might have cared more about the family’s outward image than its internal dynamics. Both parents, or just your mother, could have been highly image-oriented, creating a façade of perfection in public while chaos brewed behind the scenes. This dichotomy might have led to mixed messages and conflicting expectations. For instance, your mother could have presented herself one way in public but acted entirely differently at home, making it difficult for you to connect with her authentically.

This dynamic could have fostered fear or unease in your relationship with your mother. You may have been afraid of her actions or reactions, creating emotional distance and preventing a nurturing, close bond. This strained relationship likely extended to your father or other parental figures as well, making it hard to form meaningful connections with either parent.

Your parents may have been preoccupied with their careers, public image, or social status, leaving little time to attend to your emotional needs. They might have prioritized establishing themselves professionally or maintaining a certain reputation, neglecting their role at home. This could have resulted in long periods where you didn’t see your parents due to their work obligations. Alternatively, your family might have had a reputation of its own—positive or negative. For some, this could have meant your parents were known for being abusive, dysfunctional, or involved in toxic relationships. There might have even been a public exposure of the struggles within your family, shattering the carefully maintained image and revealing the truth to the outside world.

Additionally, one or both parents may have been in transactional, image-driven relationships rather than loving ones. Even if they separated or remarried, their partnerships might have seemed more like professional arrangements than genuine emotional connections. This could have left you feeling like a secondary concern in their lives, with your needs overlooked in favor of their image or goals.

Your parents might have imposed their image-conscious values on you as well. They may have dictated how you should look, dress, or behave to fit their standards, leaving little room for you to explore your identity. For example, they might have pressured you to lose weight or maintain a specific appearance. Failure to meet these expectations might have led to conflict, making you feel as though you always had to play a role that didn’t align with your authentic self.

As you grew older, these dynamics may have contributed to struggles with self-image and public perception. You could have experienced bullying or judgment from others, whether for your appearance, behavior, or a reputation based on false rumors. Publicly, you might have gone through several phases of self-reinvention, experimenting with different looks or personas to figure out how you want to be seen by the world.

Career-wise, Saturn in the 10th house often brings delays and challenges. You may struggle to find your purpose, try out different jobs, or face difficulties achieving success even when you work hard. It might feel like others are rewarded more easily for less effort, while your accomplishments go unrecognized. You could also experience periods of underemployment, low wages, or stagnation in your career, with a slow climb to the success you desire.

If you become a parent, Saturn in the 10th house might also influence your role as a mother or father. You may struggle with the demands of parenting while trying to maintain a positive public image, much like your own parents did. Behind closed doors, you might face challenges in balancing your relationships and parenting responsibilities, with your children potentially noticing the strain. This placement encourages you to work through these difficulties and build a more authentic and fulfilling life, rather than repeating the patterns of your upbringing.

1️⃣1️⃣🏠

With Saturn in the 11th house, you may have grown up with restrictions around friendships. Your parents could have been very strict, not allowing sleepovers or playdates, which meant your friendships were limited to school, and you didn’t have the freedom you desired to hang out with friends outside of that environment. You may have felt like you could only attract a certain type of friend, and it might have been difficult to meet people who shared your interests. You might have spent time with misfit children or those who didn’t have many friends, longing for a friend with whom you could genuinely bond but feeling unable to find that connection.

Additionally, you could have faced challenges related to your community growing up. For example, you may have lived in a violent or unsafe neighborhood, or a community that had legal issues or struggled with maintaining safety and stability. These struggles could have made you feel isolated or disconnected from others.

You may have also had big dreams or ambitions, but felt shy or unsure about how to pursue them. As a result, you might have withdrawn from opportunities or not gone after what you really wanted. This could have made you feel like the “loner” or the person who hung out with people you didn’t truly connect with. You may have struggled to find your footing or felt misunderstood, and it took time to figure out who you truly were.

When you got older, you may have experienced issues with your friendships. These could have included drama, gossip, or feeling like the person at the bottom of the group dynamic. There might have been periods when you didn’t have any friends at all, or felt left out. Sometimes your friendships may have been filled with tension, even to the point of physical altercations, or your friends might have turned on you.

As an adult, it could be harder for you to make new friends or build relationships. You may have anxiety about meeting new people or struggle with communication, making it difficult to get relationships off the ground. You might also have trust issues, finding it hard to open up or connect with others. This hesitation could make you prefer being a loner rather than engaging with larger groups.

You might find it challenging to feel grounded in friendships as you get older, experiencing periods of loneliness or disconnection. You may long to be part of a niche group or community that shares your interests, but feel reserved or anxious about approaching others. You might find it easier to connect with people online, forming virtual friendships rather than in-person ones. Physical distance can sometimes make it harder to form real-life friendships, leading to a disconnect between your online social life and your real-world interactions.

This struggle to find acceptance might lead to feelings of isolation, and you may feel misunderstood or like people don’t truly get you. You might crave a group that lifts you up and allows you to be your authentic self. However, there can be a sense that your dreams and aspirations are hindered by self-doubt or by others who doubt you. This internal struggle could make it hard for you to follow through on your goals, as you may lack the drive or confidence to execute your ideas.

In some cases, you may have big ideas, but translating them into practical, achievable plans can be difficult. Public speaking might be a challenge for you, or you may struggle to network or make connections for career opportunities. Navigating the professional world, particularly corporate or conventional job environments, could be difficult, and you might prefer unconventional career paths. However, there may be struggles related to employment gaps or financial instability, making it harder to move forward in your desired career.

Overall, Saturn in the 11th house suggests a pattern of challenges when it comes to forming relationships, pursuing your goals, and making your aspirations a reality. You may need to work through these difficulties in order to find your people, overcome self-doubt, and take practical steps toward manifesting your dreams.

1️⃣2️⃣🏠

With Saturn in the 12th house, you may have experienced challenges growing up, particularly related to your parents or extended family members who struggled with mental health issues. These issues could have been undiagnosed or diagnosed, and navigating relationships with one or more of these family members may have been difficult. There might have been cover-ups regarding mental health, so, for example, your parents could have had mental health struggles that they didn’t discuss, leaving you confused about their behavior until later in life.

You might have also experienced feelings of being avoided or ignored, which could have negatively impacted your self-esteem. Growing up, you may have felt isolated and struggled with low self-esteem. Your parents might have been very strict, perhaps expecting you to go to school and come home without much outside of that routine, which could have felt restrictive and confining. As a result, you might have felt like you were living in a “prison” and lacked the freedom to enjoy your childhood. You may have had to escape into your imagination because you didn’t feel like you had the chance to experience childhood in a typical way.

Additionally, your childhood might have been confusing, and you could have struggled with clarity around your experiences. There may have been trauma that you haven’t fully processed yet, and it might be difficult for you to unpack it. You could have a fear of confronting or re-experiencing these memories, which could make it harder for you to heal.

In school, you may have felt different or isolated. It could have been challenging for you to fit in, and you may have struggled to focus or grasp concepts. You might have been a daydreamer or found it difficult to stay on top of your work. You may have required extra assistance, such as tutoring or special education classes, or had difficulty keeping up with homework and grades due to procrastination.

As you got older, it may have been unclear what you wanted to pursue in the future, and many aspects of your life could have felt blurred. You might have struggled to find grounding in spirituality, particularly if you felt conflicted between the religion or spirituality you grew up with and what you truly believed. Despite researching different religions and spiritual practices, you may not have felt a strong connection to any of them.

It could take you a long time to see tangible results in your life. You may spend a lot of time in your head, overthinking, and struggling to take practical steps toward your goals. It might be challenging for you to focus and concentrate on things that lead to tangible outcomes. You may have worked low-wage jobs or had difficulty holding down stable employment. Relationships with others might also be challenging, as you may tend to self-isolate or feel disconnected from people due to having different experiences.

Despite these struggles, this placement offers valuable lessons in self-discovery and personal growth. You may spend much of your life in soul-searching, often feeling like a self-sacrificer who puts others before yourself, possibly even being a people pleaser. It may take a long time for you to assert yourself and prioritize your own needs. There could be a theme of feeling like you must go along with others, and it may be a long journey before you establish your own identity and begin to take action on your behalf.

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olderthannetfic · 1 day ago

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Hi OTNF and everyone,

I am finding that it's harder and harder and harder to get into anything - book, show, movie... most things seem, you know, to just not be doing it for me, be it fanfic or original stuff.

In part, I think, it's a general restlessness and that it's become harder to give anything enough time to get into the stories, the characters, the settings, the narrative voices... I guess you can call it attention deficit on my part, just a need for stories to deliver those sweet, sweet hits quickly, but they're not.

I'm not currently ficcing but I did for years (might again in the future, who knows), and it's made reading, specifically, harder. It's like I've become more aware of what goes on behind the scene, I guess? I feel like I can see the writer giving up on a sentence, skipping a scene because fuck this, trying hard to not repeat a word although it's the only one that fits, etc.

Or maybe it's just the *everything* around us in the world that is weighing on me too much? I could say it's adult life, but then again I have more free time than most (and boy do I need hours of doing nothing to survive the other hours), and no family/partner (all that would put even more pressure on me): what is wrong, to make everything so UGHHH?

I feel like I'm stuck in a rut with a brain moaning feed me, feeeed me, and whatever I try to give it, it spits everything out. (Yes, I've tried hobbies, and nothing sticks there either. I've never really found rewards or satisfaction there, so...)

Decades ago as a kid, I was a voracious reader, although studying literature took the pleasure of it away from me. It took time and discovering fanfic that brought me back to reading, but at the time the internet was starting to be a thing, too, and it can't have helped the attention thing. AFAIK I'm not ADHD but then again, I couldn't get a proper diagnosis (the therapists I saw were either dismissive or just about The Talking, which was pointless for me).

I just wonder how it all disappeared, you know? Sometimes I find something that catches my attention for a while - a book (but I read quite quickly when motivated), a fandom... but it's been a while now, and it's just so frustrating! When is it going to come back? Will it ever? *gulp*

I know that books were escapism when I was a child, and then fandom was escapism, but at the moment I find myself grabbing at air and my empty hands are mocking me. Give me my escapism baaaaack!

So, uh. Anyone here with me?

Yes.

I felt like that during part of lockdown. Anhedonia is common in those kinds of circumstances.

Getting your mojo back is certainly possible, but you may need to go see a professional about depression and have some chemical assistance (yes, even if you don't feel sad per se), or you may need to change your lifestyle to one that doesn't have the thing causing you to need eleventy billion hours of downtime.

Aside from serious interventions like that, you can consider a social media detox. Remove every source of doomscrolling and time wasting of that type. When the attention span is zero and nothing brings joy, the tiny and useless hits from finishing a game of solitaire or seeing one more instagram post become very attractive. This is a trap. It will suck what little energy and joy you have and make your muscles flabby for the work of getting into an in-depth book/hobby/experience.

I know the feeling of being able to see how the sausage is made, but... well... first, being in a better mental state will make that matter less, and second, reading prose that is more competent will make that less of an issue. A lot of mainstream tradpub genre fiction is not, in my opinion, very well written these days. Obviously, people are still enjoying it, and that's fine, but if you're noticing writers fumbling around, it might be time to check out some literary fiction or some other category known more for prose quality than anything else.

It's also important to have some structure and some things to look forward to. Even if you feel tired, overwhelmed, and busy, sometimes, the answer is to do more... But it must be things that are distinct and significant and that get you off of the couch, like going to one museum every weekend.

I saw some advice once about this kind of thing that phrased it as "One big adventure; one small adventure."

Every week, you should have those two things to look forward to that matter. Check out a new coffee shop. That could be the small one. Go to an event: a gallery opening, a concert, whatever.

Physical exercise and doing some things that aren't as verbal and conscious thought-involving is important too. Painting is a better hobby for zoning out than writing is. Taking long walks in nature is good for most people.

The kind of intense, obsessive love I had for reading as a child and that I sometimes have for fandom requires a lot of attention and some time. It's escapist, but that masks how much work it actually was. It didn't feel like work only because we were in training.

If you've filled your brain and your day up with a thousand petty annoyances or minor and useless attempts to feel something, you won't have the capacity for those deeper things.

Because you are already at a point that's equivalent to a bad sprained ankle, trying to get back to running right now won't work. You have to stay off of the ankle for a bit, then build your strength and stamina back up.

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opossumanon · 2 days ago

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Ngl I think a lot of the people who hate the concept of transandrophobia (As in they think it's not real and trans men/mascs are just making shit up) are also ablest against autistics specifically. They probably don't realize it but they are.

I'm gonna list off some things I've experienced.

I've been assumed to be a dumb teenage boy online by someone who twisted around the meaning of my post and wouldn't listen when I tried to elaborate

I've had people scoff when I try to talk about my experiences and insist that it's not a big deal, or I'm just looking too much into it/I'm misunderstanding things

I've had people regard me like I'm adorable, a child, the smol uwu bean who's confused and needs protecting from things he doesn't fully understand

People have interrupted me while I'm talking about something bad that happened to insist that a specific other group has had it worse than me and that I need to stfu

I have been bullied for years now

Now guess: Did these things happen to me because I'm a trans man, or because I'm autistic?

I'm serious I want you to actually sit and think for a second here.

Done?

If you came to the conclusion that it's because of both, you're correct!

Every scenario I listed has happened to me in the context of me being autistic and in the context of me being a trans man. Bigotry against both of these groups is indistinguishable at times.

I also want you to recall the book "Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters". Y'know, the book that says that a lot of trans men are just autistic little girls who have been groomed or were just really fucking stupid and decided to change our gender identities on a whim?

Both transandrophobia and ableism against autistics relies on the bigot believing the following:

The individual is dumb or childish

The individual doesn't understand their problems (or lack of problems) and needs someone to explain it to them, if they're even capable of understanding the dumbed-down explanation

The individual expressing concern about their alleged difficulties is just trying to take attention and resources away from a group that's more oppressed/higher needs

The individual is small and pathetic, until they get angry, when they get angry they are now a chaotic threat that is capable of physically harming people and they must be dealt with immediately because they are unable to see reason

The individual has everything handed to them, so they shouldn't be complaining in the first place

The individual has inherently bad qualities, but they also have a responsibility to "make up" for these bad qualities by being the most submissive person on the planet, failing to "make up" for their bad qualities means that the individual is choosing to hate others and is an entitled asshole

So if you're an autistic person who disagrees with transandrophobia, I'm asking you to stop and reflect and ask yourself if you've been putting down trans men and/or mascs the same way that other people have put you down for being autistic.

If you're not autistic, just fucking do better.

#transandrophobia #actually autistic #ableism #transphobia

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genderkoolaid · 2 days ago

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Just saw a post on my dash claiming you're a terf psyop because some terf on Twitter has the same username as you. I just wanted to warn you in case you haven't seen it yourself. You two having the same name is the only evidence given in the post. Nothing else. And I frankly don't believe it for a second. But other people are spreading this and seem to be accepting it as the truth. And I think it's messed up, and I'm worried about you. You don't have to respond to this at all btw; I just wouldn't have felt right about seeing this and not telling you.

Well this is wild lmao. I'm presuming both of these are talking about the same person.

—

Obviously that is not me. Mostly because I am not in fact a TERF (or from the UK). I chose "genderkoolaid" to be ironic because transphobes use that phrase.

But also because, if I was a TERF psyop, why in the world would I use the same URL for both my secret evil psyop account and my blatant TERF account?

She seems to have developed an entire conspiracy theory around transandrophobia in which she starts with the idea that everyone who talks about it is a secret TERF, and works backwards to twist anything anyone ever says into being proof of her conspiracy:

—

^ Her pinned post is... something!

Anyone can find the worst posts in the transandrophobia tag and use it as proof the whole thing is transmisognistic, because obviously transmisogyny remains a widespread problem and no space or group is exempt. But she doesn't even use those, really. Any post that talks about how transmascs suffer from misogyny, or just suffer in general, is apparently saying trans men are women and should detransition.

It's wild that she seems to understand that radical feminism relies on this man bad/woman good binary, AND that TERFs target trans men for conversion therapy, but does not seem to understand that... this is not that?

It's only somewhat included in the first screenshot, but the third image in that trio is an image with Joan of Arc which many of you have probably seen:

... which does nothing but contrast claims about masculinity with a person whose murder was justified because of their invalid masculinity. But of course, by masculinity we must REALLY mean... cis womanhood! That makes sense!

She also apparently believes that me describing myself as FTMTX is code for me being a detransitioner:

—

Like, this is genuinely just conspiracism & exorsexism. She seems one step away from claiming TMRAs are all Satanists kidnapping children.

To give her credit for one thing, though: She tags these as "broeddels" which, while useless as a term, is a very good pun.

Don't harass this person, primarily because harassment is bad but also because it seems like she is not in the best space and is obsessing over this as a result.

& if you want to actually support trans women, consider raising awareness of Rue, a Black teenage trans girl who recently survived a stabbing in Houston.

#m.#ask box

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love-byers · 1 day ago

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st4 music coding: yearning and miscommunication (& lumax/byler parallel)

alright here we go

this will be long so strap in

(yes this is the post i've been hyping up for like 3 days lol)

there's a song that i noticed plays twice in season 4, in two very similar scenes, and a third that ill talk about later. the first is lucas looking at the hellfire club celebrate, and the second is will looking at mike and el skate ahead of him. i've drawn a few interesting parallels here that i think really strengthen byler endgame. please watch the video above in tandem with reading the post

first of all the obvious: lucas and will are both yearning to be with what/who they're looking at. lucas wanted to be there for the end of the campaign. he asked them to move it, not cancel it. he wanted to be there because he likes being in the club and he loves his friends. and we all know will byers is devastatingly in love with mike wheeler, so that speaks for itself. lucas and will are both feeling rejected, forgotten, unneeded, replaced. they are also both looking at their sibling taking their place. erica took lucas' place in hellfire, and el has taken will's place at mike's side. mike and el were attached at the hip the whole day, and that used to be mike and will. will knew mike long before el did, and before they started dating mike and will were a firm duo. mike and el were heavy on the PDA that day, but mike used to be affectionate towards will too, putting his arm around him, holding his hand, sticking close to him, laying his head on his chest, hugging him, etc etc. now mike can't even hug him. and there's a special sting about your sibling of all people replacing you, and seeing your friends (or crush in will's case) having a great time without you, with the better version of you, not needing you, not even thinking of you. and right there, ladies and gentleman, is where will and lucas are wrong. sure, the hellfire club were happy with erica and about the fact that they won, but they wanted lucas there. the whole reason mike and dustin were upset in the first place was because lucas was choosing the basketball team over them. they accepted that lucas had "gone to the dark side" and went on to find his replacement. they feel like lucas doesn't need them anymore, that he's replaced them with the jocks. and little do they know, that is not true. lucas misses them and yearns to be over there celebrating with them. and though it doesn't seem like it in that moment (lucas' point of view), they miss him and want him there too. they are miscommunicating. the same is going on with mike and will. will feels rejected, ignored, replaced. he thinks mike has basically forgotten he was there. he thinks mike couldn't give half a shit about him. he thinks mike doesn't need him. he will soon find out that that could not be farther from the truth. mike was HOT AND FUCKING BOTHERED. he felt rejected by will. he felt like will was purposefully pulling away. he felt ignored. he felt replaced by will's non-existent friends and maybe even a girl will liked. he felt like will didn't need him anymore, that will was doing great without him. he felt like he had lost will. he, like the hellfire club, accepted (or attempted to accept) that they weren't wanted or needed and leaned heavy into filling that void. (meanwhile lucas' replacement wasn't sufficing, and will didn't even have one). and little does mike know, that is all wrong. he missed will just as much as will missed him. he'd been watching will all day hoping will would talk to him. meanwhile will thinks mike has looked at him like...twice, and so does the audience, because we got will's pov first. this is why the rink o mania fight is so all over the place and dramatic, they're basically running smack dab into each other at full speed. they're both confused because the other suddenly cares about their relationship, and they're both hurt. they are miscommunicating. the hellfire club enjoyed having erica there, but she's not lucas. mike enjoyed hanging out with el, but she's just not will. meanwhile , lucas' replacement for hellfire wasn't sufficing, and will never tried to replace mike at all.

onto more specifc and visual parallels: lucas, el, will, and mike all fake smiles. i really want to stress el and mike, because not a lot of people realize that shot is about both of them. mike is faking a smile too. mike is upset too. mike is trying to appear happy and satisfied too. like y'all please cut my son some slack he was having a BAD DAY. his whole day was shitty too just have some empathy. if you really pay attention, you'll see that mike and el are doing the exact same things in tandem. mike sighs, el sighs. mike fakes a smile, el fakes a smile. mike's smile falls, el's smile falls. they're both trying to conform, trying to pass of lies as reality. "I try to laugh about it, cover it all up with lies... I try to laugh about it, hiding the tears in my eyes..."

now lastly: the scene of max listening to the radio call of the game. this falls right in line with the themes of the other scenes. she feels like lucas is doing great without her, like she's not needed. his life is just getting better and better and hers is getting worse. but she's got it all wrong too. she turns it off when the radio guy says "He must be feeling on top of the world right now". he was not. he was feeling shitty and missing his friends. he was missing max desperately, all the time. and he felt rejected by max, like she was steadily pulling away from him. and unlike the others where the distancing happens because of the miscommunication, max and lucas' happened because max distanced herself, and she was not there to see how lucas was really feeling, which was shitty. and yall already know im byler brainrotted as fuck so its extremely important to me that both times this track is used there is romance involved. in the ep 1 scene the song specifically trails into max's scene, roping her into this coding. mike and will are once again paralleled to a canon, requited, well written couple.

i don't really have any closing thoughts

actually here i have one: lucas and will parallels are the reason i wake up and breathe every day

and another actually

at this point to anyone who truly thinks mlvn are getting married:

and byler endgame but wbk

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777heavengirl · 3 days ago

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Bags II

sirius black x f!reader ! - 1,459 words masterlist bags masterlist a/n: hello! when this is posted i will be entering my test! test day treat for you all… i did wanna take a moment to thank all of you for ur support and ur kindness, it means so much more to me than u might imagine! i also literally cant believe Bags is finished- this is lowkey such such such a cheesy ending but it made me feel warm... this isn’t the end of bags, don’t fret! i have some bonus chapters planned both pre!bags and post!bags which im excited for… love u guys lots xoxo

Being in love with Sirius Black was the worst thing that could’ve happened to you. It was hell. Moving in with him was a close second on that list.

He was charming, awfully so. With his wolfish grin that made goosebumps crawl on your skin and your legs feel like jelly. Waking up to his shirtless self making you coffee the way you liked it, his head disheveled and unruly from bed, with his hand always on your hips or your waist. Squeezing, or pulling you, rubbing circles on the soft skin, tracing shapes and words. His stupidly soft lips on your neck, small ministrations that made shivers run down your spine and giggles escape your throat.

You thought about this, about him, as you packed your bags. The empty boxes sat in the middle of the lounge and the trunk sat half-full next to the couch.

You would soon be walking out the door with your bags.

You paid the small pang of sadness at the pit of your stomach no mind. It was just nostalgia after all.

You went slowly, unsticking pictures from the walls, making sure there was no sellotape residue as you filed them all into a box. It was a careful process, one that you half aided with a flick of your wand, clothes slowly floating out of your closet halfway across the apartment before folding themselves into the trunk.

Sirius thought about your face as he packed. There was not much else he could think about at this moment. The soft curves of your skin, the full of your cheeks, the way your lips glistened and swole up under the bite of his kiss.

He thought of your laugh as he packed his bags by hand, each item of clothing being folded back in, each shirt, each pair of pants, even the singular sock without a pair. He thought of the way your hair pressed to your face as you slept, of the soft mumbles that left your mouth in the middle of the night, and the way you pressed him closer to you. He took the picture of you off his wall, the sellotape sticking to his finger as he looked at you. He flipped it around-

Darling brushing her teeth, 1st night in #717

He chuckled to himself, you had been so mad after he took this picture. Yelling at him about how disheveled you looked despite the toothpaste in your mouth. You kept laughing as he decided to take more- whilst you yelled at him. He put it up next to his bed after he got it developed.

Sirius always thought you looked gorgeous. He smiled to himself as he finished taking off the small bit of tape on it and put it away in the box with the rest of the pictures. It would go on his new wall no matter what.

He looked around his room. The one he felt as if he had just unpacked into, his home for almost three years. The walls were bare, pictures and posters tucked away in a box for safe transportation, clothes arranged and folded into the trunk next to the couch, his helmet on the kitchen table, and both your keys on the counter.

Soon he’d be walking out the door with his bags.

“Are you ready to go dollface?” Sirius finally popped out of his room, after one final sweep of the flat. The emptiness of the walls made his voice bounce, he smiled brightly.

“Godric yes- help me up” you looked up at him from the floor, extending your hands so he could pull you up. He pulled you swiftly, in one smooth motion you were chest to chest with him.

He pressed a kiss against your lips. Even after months of being together, months of cloying nicknames, and hours cuddled in bed. Months of practically moving into his room, waking up with his hair on your face, or with his face buried between your neck and the pillow. Even after so long, your fingertips still buzzed at his kiss, your skin still reddened at his touch, and a smile never failed to break from your lips as you laid eyes on him.

“Are you ready too?” You asked, breaking the kiss. He let out a whispered yes, the words drowned when he reconnected your lips together. You’d never get tired of it, the way he held you steadily against him, the rush of blood to your cheeks as he playfully bit your bottom lip, the way he trailed kisses down your neck. “Should we go then? Remember we have dinner with our godson tonight-”

“There’s no rush baby-” Sirius said in between kisses. You hummed in agreement, carding your fingers through his hair. It was threatening to go past his shoulders.

“Your hair is getting longer,” you noted

“Don’t you like it?” He bit at the base of your neck and you slapped him with a laugh. He shot his head up from your throat, a naughty smile on his lips like he got caught taking a cookie out of the jar before supper. His arms pulled you impossibly closer, hearts beating against each other, his hands interlinked behind your back.

“I do,” you smiled “I just think Harry might pull it into oblivion- maybe you should put it up tonight”

“Ah yes, my cheeky little godson and his awful tendency to try to make me bald-” you let out a laugh, he couldn't help to laugh too as yours shook through his chest. “He’s on a mission that one”

“I doubt he’ll be very successful with that- you got more hair than I do” You ran your hands through his soft locks again.

“Don’t be jealous sweetheart- I’ll give you all my tips, we can share shampoos now” his face got closer again,

“Not that we weren’t already-” you said rolling your eyes, your noses slightly brushed against each other

“Ah so that's why it seemed to evaporate out of the bottle hm?” his words were soft, almost against your lips, the bow of his lip brushing against yours ever so slightly.

“I fear so-” His hands were steady as they disconnected and roamed, fingers splayed across the small of your back. You sighed against him, a smile evident over your lips that quickly pulled at the corners of his own.

“Stop distracting me Black- we got things to do” you tore away from your boyfriend, a pout jutting out as you left his lips. “None of that- come on,” you pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He groaned out an elongated fine, mocking, and silly as he let you go, hand laying a little pat over your bum.

“Keep your hands to yourself-” he shot you a cheeky smile as he grabbed your hand to leave, his other kept a tight grip on your shared trunk.

It was barely a blink, as the air spit you back out with a soft crackle and pop, and you stood outside the small house in Godric’s Hollow.

“Not bad right?” You turned towards Sirius, a smile on your face as you caught him already looking at you.

“I think the word you’re looking for is perfect doll,” Sirius scoffed, and you hummed in agreement. You couldn’t help the smile that seemed to be perpetually on your lips, he pressed a short kiss against it.

“Here you go love-” he hung the keys from one of his fingers, the small silver dog keychain he gave you after graduation newly attached to it.

He dropped it into the palm of your hand, lips breaking into a wide smile.

You couldn’t help but press another kiss to his lips, chaste and giddy as you thought of your new life together. With one room to share, with one bed to sleep in, bare walls asking to be littered with pictures, books, and a tv that would probably still sit on boxes to watch shitty soaps in. A space asking to be full of your closest friends, of the people nearest to your hearts.

You felt like a real adult, with a house of your own and the closest of friends living down the road with your godson. No jobs and fewer trips on the tube, but with a motorcycle parked out front, and English lavender still on the windowsill. Maybe you didn’t have some stuffy muggle office job, maybe you didn’t dress in crisp slacks or skirts, maybe you didn’t talk with your dad anymore, maybe you would simply spend your days with Sirius. Carefree, still young. Adults now, but somehow still stupid. Very much full of joy.

So you went, walking through the door with your bags.

tags ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth @notsolong-pause @niceonejames7 @caspiankingofnarnia @ilovejamespottersomuch @bmyva1entine @lanadelreykt @froggiedragon @stanzie @theendofthematerialgworl @featherlightfairysworld @plk-18 @coldthinghairdobakery @3sriracha @obixix

permanent tag ; @laufeysvalentine @heyyyloverr

#harry potter #the marauders era #marauders #the marauders #harry potter fanfiction #padfoot #marauders era #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius #sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius o black #sirius x you #sirius x reader #sirius black angst #sirius black series #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n

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may-be-a-plant · 2 days ago

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So I actually have personal beef with these guys. I live in an area thats fairly swampy, with lots of reeds and cattails which Red Wings adore.

They absolutely love a tall stick to perch on and survey their domain.

First problem. Red Wings are also VERY territorial. That is THEIR tall stick and they will defend it from the gods themselves if they deem it necessary.

Second problem. Despite our best conservation efforts, swampland IS receding, and the territorial-ness of Red Wings means they have to try to spread themselves out over a small amount of available breeding ground.

This means they get creative.

Third problem. Street signs, lamp posts and telephone poles are all readily available tall sticks.

Fourth problem. Red Wings have no concept of public property.

This resulted exactly as you could expect.

Few years back I used to walk to work on a route that took me directly under a telephone pole claimed by a Red Wing.

He yelled and shrieked at me but I paid him no mind as I had already previously experienced harassment from other wild animals, including being sassed by a pair of ducks.

His Kingly Righteousness did not appreciate his threats being ignored, and I was bothering HIS tall stick.

And so as I'm walking passed the Tallest and Most Revered Stick, I felt what I at first thought was a small rock hitting the back of my head. (I was wearing a knitted hat at the time.)

I look around confused because 'who DOES that!?' and see nothing.

Perturbed I cautiously continue on my path only to feel the same rock-hitting-head sensation again. I whip around in time to see the angriest little bird I've ever witnessed flapping away, shrieking and squawking like I had personally insulted its mother.

Realizing what had happened, I booked it out of there.

Fifth problem. I never learned how to drive, and that route was the only one available to get to and from work.

Thus began a rather memorable era of my life known as "That time I feuded with a random bird".

Every work day for that entire breeding season began and ended with me quickly and cautiously passing through the kingdom of He-of-the-Cacophanous-Scream, hoping he would stay put upon his most glorious tall stick.

Anxiety was had and insults where thrown from both parties. (Its not my fault you chose a public walkway to defend, my guy, get over yourself please) and eventually that season ended, as did our feud.

Now every time I see a Red Wing on a public roadway I eyeball it with great disdain until I pass out of its range, to the amusement of my family.

So yeah, if y'all could donate to swamp and wetlands conservation to get these guys more living space so they dont feel like they have to claim telephone poles and harass pedestrians, that would be really cool.

Love y'all, stay safe out there! 🩷

Red-Winged Blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus), male, family Icteridae, order Passeriformes, ALB, Canada

photograph by Tim Hopwood

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mirandaputsherbestbuttforward · 1 day ago

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I do find it kinda........... Interesting how ppl in certain RP circles will say they support female OCs, but then............. if the female OCs aren't of a particular type and kind (often women of colour, not conventionally attractive, and/or aren't accessible to their male muses for shipping, for example), then they don't get interactions, don't get asked about, don't get cared about.

#fandom wank #this is kinda vague posting but it's also bc like #being back on meredith who is a canon character and im like the only person who writes her #she gets popular pretty quickly #and that's fine!#but trying to get traction for my Rook for example feels like pulling teeth i got like 4 people i write her with (and i love writing w them #and I know it's a bit of a slow time post holidays but even during the height of DAV coming out #it feels like the interest has been so????#idk #i could just be in a mood bc i am 0.2 seconds away from starting my period and overcaffeinated today #but im kinda :/// about the whole thing

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strwbrychffoncke · 16 hours ago

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"baby ,i care for you,, 2.6k words synopsis: caleb nurses you back to health contains: fluff! lads caleb x f!reader (caleb calls you "good girl" + "silly girl" x1) ,established relationship! ,just some self-indulgent fluffy sick comfort ,chef!caleb ,kind of stern!caleb (he's just worried) ,caleb makes u take medicine ,two suggestive jokes (cause its caleb) ,like one second of angst ,one single use of "gege" ,he carries you to the couch ,he pats your head/gives u a massage ,lulls you to sleep ,one head kiss ,i think thats it note: not proofread! its 5 in the morning when i post this so forgive any mistakes i just needed this out of my system i need him to take care of me so baaad :x enjoy

for some reason, you woke early for someone who didn't sleep till the late hours into the morning last night.

what you'd gotten couldn't even be considered proper sleep, more like just a nap, but somehow your body wasn't too keen on slipping back into the grips of slumber that easily.

and somehow, you woke up feeling even worse than you had for the past two days.

even if your sore throat was mostly gone, you heaved out a couple of dry coughs as you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket, shivering in the cold that surrounded the room (courtesy of your comfort, unable to sleep comfortably otherwise even if it worsened your current condition), and on top of that your head was softly throbbing. not wanting to deal with it, you decided to lay back completely to soothe the pain.

your nose was stuffy and runny at the same time, reaching for some tissues on the bedside table to wipe away at it, not before sneezing a couple of times and sniffling afterwards— it was so sensitive today for some reason.

you let out a deep sigh, soft breaths escaping from your mouth as you couldn't breathe comfortably from your nose.

how did it get worse? sure, you only took medicine once yesterday instead of every couple of hours like you were supposed to, but seriously, it was just a sore throat and a small fever!

you sighed, irritated that you were still sick. weren't you supposed to be the one with a good immune system? you and caleb often argued about it, and if he were here, he would surely use this as a point that his was better.

the yearning for his presence bit into the silence of the room as you laid comfortably on your back, shutting your eyes once again as your shallow breaths evened out.

you thought about getting up, washing your face and then making your way to the kitchen to make yourself some tea, and then something to eat so that you could take your medicine and then proceed to rest- something caleb would already be doing for you the moment he'd realize you were sick.

but he wasn't here right now, and even though you'd seen his moments posts about being out with friends, you had no plan to worry him when this was just a little cold.

you thought about it- you were hungry after all, and you wanted something warm to soothe your throat, but just the idea of going all the way down and doing all of that at the moment in your state was tiring.

but, you had taken care of yourself for the past two days like this. what was another?

you opened your eyes, pulled yourself up with a groan, swung your legs over the edge of the bed to slip on your slippers, slipped on the closest sweater and slowly padded your way to the bathroom, leaning against the wall for balance as your headache and sick haze had you dizzy and unsteady on your feet.

you washed up without much of a hitch, and when you exited the bathroom, you thought you heard a door close.

huh?

you thought it might be your mind playing tricks on you. after all, you were at home by yourself and weren't expecting anyone (even if you yearned for someone, the stray thought of him being here leaving you as soon as it came), and you couldn't think of anyone that would stop by on a random wednesday who also happened to have a key to your place.

you shook your head, pocketing your phone as you padded down the way towards the living room, pausing at the faint sound of the television being on- had you left it on?- before proceeding towards the kitchen.

you froze at the sound of light humming coming from your kitchen, feet subconsciously carrying your slightly swaying body closer at the pleasant smell of food wafting towards your nose, completely disregarding a certain bag laying at the end of the empty sofa.

your footsteps must've been heavier than you thought because before you could fully enter the kitchen, the person in question turned around, staring straight at you, spatula in his hand and smile stretching across his face.

"morning, sleepyhead."

you tilted your head.

"caleb?" you whispered.

"surprised?"

you took a few steps closer, heart pounding with excitement but managing to keep your distance due to your illness.

"what are you-"

"hey."

his playful smile quickly morphs into a look of concern as he studies your face, noticing your shallow breaths, quiet voice and slightly-swaying body.

"pipsqueak, are you sick?"

you jolt, looking off to the side.

"not really, its just—"

you startle at his free hand brushing your bangs from your head and resting on your forehead.

"hey! i don't have a fever, i'm fine—"

"your voice is mostly gone," he deadpans.

"that's—"

"how long have you been sick??" his look is full of concern, voice laced with worry.

"just the past two days.."

"two days? and you didn't think to tell me?"

"it was just a sore throat at first!"

"and you're telling me this is still just that?"

before you can answer you're interrupted, bringing up your sleeved arm up to cover the lower half of your face to sneeze twice into it before sniffling.

you put your sleeved arm down and sigh.

"bless you," he says, taking a once over if your state before placing a hand on your lower back.

"here, i made you breakfast, just- sit down, i'll get you everything."

"that's okay, i wanted to—"

"i have water ready for tea if that's what you're after, just sit down, i'll bring it to you."

he says it in a way that almost feels like he's scolding you, and you can't help but to obey and trudge over to the closest seat at the dining table, secretly grateful since your head was hurting more now.

you momentarily rest your head on the cool surface, missing the frown that adorns caleb's face at seeing you in such a weakened state.

he knew how prideful you were when it came to your wellbeing, and he also knew how, for as little as it happened, sick you got when you did succumb to illness.

luckily, from a surface level it didn't look too bad, and the duration wasn't anywhere near severe-level yet. he was sure it was something plenty of rest and medicine would help with.

which is when he vowed, while filling your plate and pouring the steaming water into your favorite mug with a green tea bag resting inside, that he would be the one to nurse you back to health himself.

just like he used to.

"that's way too many, caleb!"

"i'm not letting you leave until you take em' all."

"is this really necessary??"

"lingering sore throat, mild fever, headache, stuffy and runny nose, sneezing, dry cough. did i miss anything?"

"no.."

"then yes, this is all necessary. it's not even that much!"

"caleb, there's five different pills sitting in front of me. i am not swallowing all of that!"

"haven't you swallowed more than just this before?"

"caleb!"

you smack his arm and he lets out a hearty laugh— one that you're grateful to see (despite it being at your expense), given he's mostly been overcome with concern— before looking over the medicines again.

"fine, fine, here."

one hand drags an orange pill away towards him.

"how about now?"

you deadpan.

"you're joking, right?" you sniffle.

"that's the best i can do, pipsqueak. now hurry up and take them."

you let out a groan, but reach for the largest pill first.

"do i really—"

"yes," he crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat. "i won't say it again."

you sigh, taking a small sip of tea before slipping the pill between your lips, tipping your head back before taking multiple large gulps of your tea to help its descent.

caleb nods, uncurling his hands and reaching for his utensil to grab some rice.

"good girl, now eat some more and take the rest," he instructs, shoving the rice into his mouth.

you're about to speak but are interrupted by a small sneeze.

"bless you."

you pout at him.

he points to your plate with his chopsticks.

"eat."

"you're lucky your food is so good..." you trail off, shoveling some eggs into your mouth, delight quickly filling you at the flavor of such a simple food item.

the cycle repeats: caleb watching you take sips of your tea and shoveling small bites of food into your mouth before pushing the next pill towards you until they're all gone.

in no time at all, both of your plates are empty. he takes yours from in front of you as you sip on the remainder of your tea, nodding when he asks if you're finished before taking them away to the sink.

you watch as he rolls up his sleeves and makes quick work to wash the plates, utensils, and the kitchenware he'd used, mesmerized by the familiar movements but willing to watch again and again all the same.

once he was finished and the dishes were properly put away, he dries his hands, walking back over to you and feeling your forehead again.

"hmm.. not too warm. how are you feeling right now? are you cold?"

you nod your head, and he gently pats the top of it. you close your eyes in response, the gesture soothing to you.

he grins.

always so cute...

"we should get you back to bed," he murmurs, bending down to your level. "want gege to carry you?"

you crack your eyes open and shake your head, prompting him to tilt his in question.

"i don't want you tripping on the way to your room if you're still dizzy, pipsqueak—"

"i don't wanna go to my room," you cut him off.

"can't i rest near you?" you peer up at him, hope filled in your droopy eyes, and something about that hits him.

you'd been on your own feeling like crap the past two days (now onto the third) and, knowing you, haven't been taking proper care of yourself, prompting the sickness to become what it is now.

no one could guarantee that you'd been eating properly, taking the proper medicine and on time, and most of all, not trying to work while in this state.

his heart feels heavy at the thought, but at his prolonged silence and hard stare, you shift your gaze behind him, embarrassed, and speak up again.

"or— i've already caused you enough trouble, right? this is supposed to be your time off and i've worried you enough... so i'll go back to my room! i wouldn't want to get you si—"

"no, no, no," he quickly cuts you off, swiftly shaking his head before grabbing onto your shoulders.

"pipsqueak, when have i ever denied you of your wishes?"

you sniffle. he did have a point...

"and besides, it's my job to worry about you, ya know?"

"so come on, let me carry you to the couch, yeah? we can put on whatever you like until you fall asleep."

you smile, ever so grateful at how caleb loved to spoil you.

you move to stand up and barely feel your feet hit the ground for half a second before you're easily scooped into caleb's arms, laughing at the sudden gesture before he walks towards the living room with you.

"caleb! i could've—"

"nope, you really couldn't have. i saw the way you trudged through the kitchen earlier, pipsqueak. you looked like you'd fall over if i so much as blew on you."

you look away, small pout adorning your lips, sniffling again.

"s' not my fault... don't even know how i got sick this time."

"maybe cause you missed me so much?

"yeah, maybe."

his heart throbs at your honesty, plopping down on the couch with you before smiling.

"so i guess this means i've got the better immune system, huh?"

"ugh, i knew you'd bring that up..."

he chuckles, letting you adjust in his hold as you use his lap as a pillow.

"whaddya wanna watch, pipsqueak?"

"dunno," you yawn. "just see what's on right now."

you watch as he looks around for the remote, pointing at it being just out of reach on the coffee table. you're about to offer to grab it before you see the strings of his evol grip onto it, bringing it into his hand before he catches it with ease and begins flipping through the channels.

"cheater," you tease quietly, letting out a small laugh at his use of his evol.

"hm?" he catches your words, humming thoughtfully in response, eyes glued to the television.

"you say that, but i remember a certain hunter practically crying under my evol while begging me to—"

"c-caleb!"

he laughs at the way you try to swat at him as you're laying down, settling for a small thwap! on his thigh instead.

"sorry, sorry," he says nonchalantly, loving how easily riled up he could get you at the mention your bedroom activities.

"here," he says, free hand finding its way to your head, softly massaging at your scalp.

"this a good enough apology?" he asks, only earning pleased mewls from you in response.

he smiles fondly in response, pleased at your little noises and the way you nuzzle into him further, resembling a satisfied cat that just filled its belly and was ready for its afternoon nap.

he eventually lands on a channel with a classic favorite movie for the both of you, setting the remote down and using his now-free hand to rub soothing circles into your back.

"you know, wearing my clothes while you're sick is a little selfish, don't you think?"

"s' warm," you mumble, slowly being lulled to sleep by his ministrations.

"and comfy. smells like you..."

even though he teased you, he always felt his heart grow fuller at the sight of you in his clothes, and he felt some amount of pride that it was the first thing you'd reached for even in your current state.

"yeah? i guess i can forgive you," he whispers, evol reaching for the nearest blanket to drape it over your lower half.

in the edges of slumber, you can feel a kiss being planted on the side of your head, but you don't have the energy to reprimand him for doing such a thing and risk himself getting sick.

he sits back up, watching you fondly as he continues his comforting ministrations.

"get well soon, okay? ill be right here when you wake up."

even after he was sure you were sleeping, he continued his gentle caresses, comforted by the fact that you were there with him, and that he could keep a close eye on you.

extra:

half-paying attention to the movie on screen, he was already planning a soup to make you when his phone buzzed beside him.

it was a message from a friend of his.

wanna grab a bite later? my treat! some others will be joining too.

grateful for the offer, he messaged back quickly.

can't, playing nurse for my cute girlfriend tonight~

aw, next time, then!

he placed his phone back down, looking back at you and brushing stray hair out of your face as he thought back to your words.

"can't i rest near you?"

you'd looked so helpless, almost like you were expecting him to refuse you and make you rest by yourself, but eyes holding a lingering hope anyway as they peered into his soul.

his heart is full, his eyes are full of mirth, lips curling lovingly.

silly girl...

there's nowhere he'd rather be than here, right beside you—

whether you were ill or perfectly healthy.

always.

and he would make sure you never felt the burden of illness by yourself so long as he could help it.

a/n: i'm sick and couldn't help but imagine the l&ds men taking care of me ,and namely imagined caleb nursing me back to health so here we are. caleb come home!

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace fanfic #lnds caleb #lads caleb #l&ds caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x you #xia yizhou #love and deepspace caleb x reader #lnds caleb x reader #lads caleb x reader #love and deepspace fluff #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #lads fanfic

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mattsobvimyfav · 1 day ago

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neighbors (matthew sturniolo)

pt 10

A couple of days had passed and Nick just posted the vlog from our drive around LA. Charlie and I were lounging on the couch, scrolling through our phones. My notifications had been blowing up all day. Every few seconds, a new comment popped up, most of them about the kiss Matt and I had shared in the vlog. The hate comments didn’t faze me—they were ridiculous and honestly kind of entertaining. People had too much time on their hands.

“Oh my God,” Charlie said, leaning over to peek at my phone. “They’re actually mad about a kiss? Like, of all things to care about.”

I shrugged, smirking. “Apparently, I’m public enemy number one. Should I frame this?”

She laughed, but before either of us could say more, my phone started buzzing. Matt’s name flashed on the screen. I answered quickly, putting the call on speaker.

“Hey,” I greeted casually, expecting him to laugh about the comments with me.

“Have you seen my comment section?” His voice was tense, his tone clipped.

I sat up straighter. “Uh, yeah. People are being dumb. Who cares?”

“I care,” he snapped. “It’s not just about you, Y/N. They’re not even saying awful things about me. Its just about how I ‘picked the wrong girl’ or whatever. It’s everywhere.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow at me, mouthing, ‘Seriously?’

“Matt, they’re just bitching,” I said, trying to stay calm. “You know none of that matters.”

“It’s easy for you to say,” he shot back. “Your TikTok isn’t flooded with comments about how I ‘deserve better’ or how you’re ‘using me for clout.’ It's pissing me off.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Okay, so what do you want to do? We can’t control what people say.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before he spoke again, his tone softer but still firm. “Troll back. Lets just start making whatever we are way more public give them a real reason to be mad.”

I hesitated, glancing at Charlie, who was already nodding eagerly as if to say, ‘Just do it.’

“Fine,” I said finally. “Let’s do it, I love being a dick online.”

Matt let out a breath, some of the tension easing from his voice. “Deal. I’ll come over later.”

As I hung up, Charlie smirked at me. “Hes gonna make you do porn on tiktok.”

“We havent even fucked,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“WHAT?” She yelled jumping up sitting straight up “What the fuck was going on the other night than?”

“He just ate me out and oh my god the hottest thing ever, he was so turned on that started jerking off. Just to eating me out” I said feeling a warmth between my legs rethinking about the night me and Matt shared.

“Wow. Thats really fucking hot, hes inlove with you” Charlie said looking away from me “Im picturing it in my head. I'm jealous” I laughed at her response as we laid back down going back to our phones.

Later that night, Matt came over, his irritation over the comments still lingering but hidden under his usual calm demeanor. I greeted him at the door, grinning as I waved him inside. "Ready to show the internet who's boss?"

He smirked, shaking his head. "You mean, ready to show the internet that I don’t care, but also kind of care? Yeah, let’s do this."

Charlie, lounging on the couch with her popcorn, chimed in. “Make it iconic, okay? Something that makes the haters cry.”

Scrolling through TikTok, I landed on the “A boy who’s jacked and kind” trend. I turned the screen to Matt. “How about this one? It’s simple, it’s bold, and it’ll get them talking.”

Matt glanced at the screen, then at me, his lips quivering into a smirk. “You really think you can handle me lifting you like that?”

“Please,” I scoffed. “The question is whether you can handle me.”

Charlie snorted from the couch. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

We set up the phone, positioning it on the kitchen counter for the perfect angle. Charlie jumping around on the couch in the back, I stood in front of Matt as the trend’s audio began playing. The line “A boy who’s jacked” came up, and right on cue, Matt’s hands slid to my hips. With a swift, practiced motion, he lifted me effortlessly, placing me on his shoulder like I weighed nothing.

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me as I balanced on his shoulder, gripping onto him for support. The audio continued, transitioning to “and kind,” and Matt gave the camera with a playful grin, tapping my leg lightly.

Matt walked over grabbing his phone while I was still on his shoulders, added the caption: “my lady” and hit post.

Charlie shrugged, looking over Matt’s shoulder. “I like my cameo.”

Matt gently lowered me back to the ground, his hands lingering on my waist. “Think that’ll do the trick?”

I leaned into him slightly, grinning. “Oh, it’ll definitely stir the pot. But at least this time, it’s on our terms.”

We flopped onto the couch next to Charlie, refreshing the post to watch the views climb almost instantly. Matt wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer as the first wave of comments rolled in.

As we sat on the couch, watching the likes and comments roll in from Matt’s TikTok, I turned to him with a mischievous grin. “Okay, now it’s my turn. We’re making one for my account.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Alright. What’s the plan?”

“You’ll see,” I teased, grabbing his hand to pull him up. “We need a parking lot for this one.”

Without hesitation, he stood, grabbed his keys, and intertwined his fingers with mine. I laughed as he practically dragged me to the door, his excitement contagious.

“BYE LOVERS! Chris and Nick will be here when you get back!” Charlie yelled from the couch.

“Bye baby!” I yelled back to her

By the time we reached the car, I was giggling uncontrollably. “You don’t even know what we’re doing yet.”

“Don’t care,” he said opening the passenger door for me. “You said parking lot, so we’re going to a parking lot.”

The drive was filled with us singing to old songs wed listen to in college. His curiosity clearly bubbling under the surface. “So,” he finally asked, “are you going to clue me in, or do I just wing it when we get there?”

I smirked, looking out the window. “You’ll know when the time comes.”

He shook his head, chuckling as he turned into a small, dimly lit parking lot. “This good enough for your tiktok?”

“Perfect,” I said, hopping out of the car. I grabbed my phone and propped it up against the tire, adjusting the angle until it captured the open space behind us.

Matt leaned against the car, watching me with amused curiosity. “Alright, sweetheart, what’s the move?”

I pulled up the audio and played it for him, explaining as it went. “Okay, so, I start spinning in the frame when the music begins, and then you run in, pick me up, and keep running off-screen.”

He nodded, walking away.

I laughed, hitting record and jogging into position. The audio started, and I spun slowly, my arms outstretched as the music swelled. ‘You better lock your phone-’ Right on cue, Matt dashed into the frame, scooping me up effortlessly. I squealed in surprise as he kept running, the camera capturing the two of us disappearing into the shadows.

When he finally stopped, both of us were laughing uncontrollably. “That was perfect,” I said, catching my breath as he set me down.

“Obviously,” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Now, let’s see it.”

We walked back to the car, reviewing the footage together under the soft glow of the streetlights. The video was exactly what I had imagined.

“You’re posting that, right?” Matt asked, his arm draped casually over my shoulder.

“Absolutely,” I said, uploading the video with the caption: “my future baby daddy.”

As we got back into the car, I glanced over at him, grinning. “You really don’t question anything, do you?”

He shrugged, kissing my forehead. “Not when it comes to you.”

When we got back to the house, the sound of voices and laughter greeted us as we stepped inside. Chris and Nick were now sprawled out on the couch with Charlie, the TV playing in the background.

As soon as I walked in, a wave of excitement hit me. Everything had been going so well lately, and I couldn’t help but feel like life was finally falling into place. “Guys!” I yelled, throwing my arms up in the air. “We should celebrate tonight!”

Nick perked up, looking intrigued. “What are we celebrating exactly?”

“Everything!” I exclaimed. “Life!”

Chris laughed, shaking his head. “Yes Y/N! I LOVE CELEBRATING LIFE!” Chris jumped up wrapping his arms around my shoulders behind me as we jumped like school girls.

Nick’s face lit up. “Well, if we’re talking about celebrating, I know Tara Yummy is throwing a party tonight. Should we go?”

Charlie’s eyes widened with excitement. “I’m in! We haven’t been to one of her parties. We've only ever dmed her a few times about a collab”

Matt looked over at me, smirking. “You good with that?”

“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation, “Let’s go, I can tell Chris is gonna match my freak tonight” I said while patting his arm that was hanging on me.

Charlie laughed at me and Chris jumping around, we exchanged a quick glance before I turned, pointing toward the door. “Alright, you three. Go home and get ready.”

Nick groaned but stood up, dragging Matt with him. “Fine, but you better not take forever.”

“No promises!” Charlie called out as the boys headed out, leaving us to start planning our outfits for the night.

The moment the boys left, Charlie and I raced upstairs to start getting ready. The excitement of the night buzzed between us, making us laugh and talk over each other as we dug through our closets for the perfect outfits.

“I’m thinking something bold,” I said, pulling out a burgundy strapless corset top that hugged my figure and showed off just the right amount of cleavage. I paired it with a tight black cloth skirt that barely covered my ass and my black heeled boots. “What do you think?”

Charlie whistled, grinning. “Matt’s going to fuck you infront of everyone.”

I laughed, tossing a pillow at her. “We’re celebrating life, remember? What about you?”

She held up a black crop top with thin straps that fit her perfectly and paired it with a jean mini skirt that showed off her long legs. She added a pair of cute ankle boots. “How’s this?”

“Absolutely stunning,” I said with a grin.

We got to work on our makeup and hair, After straightening my hair and leaving it sleek and shiny, I turned to Charlie, who was curling her hair into loose waves.

“You’re going to have every guy at that party eating out of your hand,” I teased, spraying her hair with setting spray.

“Please, as long as Chris is that's all I care ‘bout,” she shot back, but her smile was wide.

By the time we finished, we took a couple pictures in the mirror, grinning like excited to finally meet Tara, and get drunk.

“Let’s do this,” I said, grabbing my phone to text the boys to let them know we were almost ready.

“They better not keep us waiting,” Charlie added with a laugh as we headed downstairs, our heels clicking against the floor, excitement building for the night ahead.

Charlie and I were halfway through our second nip of vodka, as we danced around the kitchen. The boys walked in just as I tipped the tiny bottle back, the liquid burning slightly as it slid down my throat.

“Starting without us?” Nick teased. Chris followed close behind, already laughing at the scene.

Matt came in last, his eyes locking on me immediately. I caught the smirk tugging at his lips as he walked over. Just as I was placing the empty nip on the counter, his hands slid around my waist, and one moved down to grab my butt firmly.

I shrieked, startled, and spun my head around to glare at him, but he leaned down to whisper in my ear, his voice low and teasing. “Let’s go.”

The sound of his voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I turned back around, trying to hide my flushed face as I reached for my bag. Charlie wiggled her eyebrows at me but said nothing as she grabbed her purse and slid her phone into it.

“All set?” Chris asked.

“Matt’s driving,” Nick said with a grin.

“Lucky me,” I said, giving Matt a playful smirk. “That means you can take care of me when I'm hammered.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled, gesturing toward the door. “Per usual.”

Charlie and I followed the boys outside, the cool night air hitting our skin as we clicked down the driveway in our heels. Matt opened the passenger door for me, and I slid in, adjusting my skirt as he walked around to the driver’s side. Charlie climbed into the back with Chris and Nick, and we were off, heading for Tara’s party.

The car was filled with excitement and music as we drove, everyone hyped for the night ahead. I leaned back in my seat, sneaking a glance at Matt as he drove, his hand gripping the wheel tightly, the other holding my thigh.

The house was packed with music blasting through the speakers and groups of people talking and laughing in every corner. As we walked in, the energy was electric.

“Y/N! Charlie!” A high-pitched squeal came from across the room, and Tara was practically sprinting toward us. She threw her arms around me first, then Charlie, her excitement contagious. “I was so excited when Nick told me you guys were coming! Finally, I get to meet the infamous Y/N and Charlie. You’re even prettier in person!”

Charlie and I exchanged amused smiles. “You’re so sweet, Tara,” I said, hugging her back.

“Come on,” Tara said, linking her arms with ours. “Let me show you where the drinks are. We’re getting started right now.”

She led us through the crowd, leaving Matt, Nick and Chris to socialize with other people, to a makeshift bar setup on the kitchen counter, complete with every type of alcohol imaginable. Tara wasted no time, grabbing shot glasses and pouring tequila like a pro.

“Let’s go, ladies,” she said, holding up her shot glass.

“Cheers!” we all yelled, clinking glasses before throwing back the first shot.

And then the second.

And then the third.

Before long, Charlie and I were fully committed to a shot-for-shot competition with Tara, each round getting harder to keep up with her.

“Come on, lightweight!” Tara teased as Charlie hesitated before the seventh shot, but I wasn’t about to back down. I threw our shot back, wincing as the burn hit my throat.

By the time an hour had passed, the three of us were absolutely obliterated. Tara was laughing so hard she was leaning on the counter for support, and Charlie and I were clinging to each other to stay upright.

“I love you guys,” Tara slurred, throwing her arms around us. “You’re my favorite people in the world now.”

“You’re my favorite!” Charlie yelled back, equally as drunk, before dissolving into giggles.

I nodded enthusiastically, my head spinning but too far gone to care. “Best friends forever,” I declared, raising my empty shot glass in the air like it was some kind of victory trophy.

The party was in full swing, the music pounding in my chest as I stumbled my way through the crowd, drink still clutched in my hand. My vision blurred slightly, but I was riding a wave of tipsy confidence—until I spotted him.

Matt.

He was leaning casually against the wall, talking to some girl. She was laughing at something he said, leaning in just a little too close. A flash of annoyance surged through me, cutting through the haze of alcohol. My mind betrayed me, flashing back to our college days—Matt fucking girl after girl.

Fueled by jealousy and bad judgment, I stormed across the room, stumbling slightly but determined. “What the hell is this?” I blurted, my voice louder than I intended.

Matt straightened up, his brows furrowing as he looked at me. “Y/N—”

“No, seriously,” I slurred, gesturing wildly at the girl. “What’s happening here?”

The girl blinked in confusion, clearly caught off guard. “Uh, I’m gonna go...” she muttered, excusing herself quickly as the tension between Matt and me became palpable.

Matt’s jaw tightened, and before I could say another word, he grabbed my wrist. “We’re not doing this here,” he said firmly, his voice low but commanding. He pulled me through the crowd, ignoring my protests, until we were in a quiet, empty room.

He let go of my wrist, closing the door behind us. Turning to face me, his eyes were sharp, his tone clearly pissed. “What the fuck was that, Y/N?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” I shot back, swaying slightly on my feet. “Talking to some random girl like I don’t even exist? What’s the deal, Matt? Back to your old habits?”

His hands went to his temples, rubbing them in frustration. “Are you serious right now? She’s just a friend! And even if she wasn’t, that’s not what this is. You’re drunk and making something out of nothing.”

“I saw the way she was looking at you,” I accused, my voice trembling. “And you weren’t exactly pushing her away.”

He took a step closer, his voice lowering as he leaned in. “Y/N, you’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight. Chill the fuck out.”

As Matt’s words echoed in the small, dimly lit room, I could feel the tension building, the weight of everything from the party to my frustrations pressing down on me. But then, unexpectedly, the alcohol made everything feel lighter.

I giggled, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably from my chest. "I love you," I blurted out, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Matt looked at me, eyebrows raised, clearly taken aback by my sudden shift in mood. "What?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and amusement.

I shrugged, the smile on my face turning mischievous despite the still-present anger in my head. "I mean, I do," I said, a silly grin stretching across my face.

He stood there, speechless for a moment, his eyes searching mine. His lips quirked upward into a small, amused smile as he let out a deep breath. "You’re drunk, Y/N."

"Yeah, I know," I said, still grinning, "but I still love you."

He shook his head, chuckling lightly, before stepping closer. "You're lucky you're cute when you're drunk."

"You still love me, though," I teased,

"Yeah, I do," he admitted, his expression softening. "But let's get you back to the party before you start loving everyone."

I laughed again, “How about you just let me love you..” I pushed Matt back as he stumbled onto the bed.

“y/n don't… you're drunk.” Matt said as I walked towards him, placing myself on his lap.

“Just shut the fuck up Matt and kiss me”

And when he finally gave me what I wanted, his lips crashing against mine as he moved against me, the world disappeared. There was only Matt—his touch, his voice, his everything.

Matt’s hands gripped my hips, his hold firm but controlled, as if he was grounding himself as much as he was grounding me.

His body was flush against mine, every inch of him radiating heat. “Wait till tomorrow,” he murmured, his lips brushing against mine, teasing but not giving me the kiss I desperately wanted. “I refuse to fuck you this drunk, y/n. And you are making it oh so hard”

“Shut up,” I whispered, tugging at his hair to start kissing his neck as I grinded my hips into his.

His hands roamed over my body, exploring every curve, every inch of skin he could reach. His touch was both gentle and possessive, a reminder that in this moment, I was his and his alone.

“Get off me before I go against all my morals,” he said, his voice rough and full of promise. “I say full of love and respect.” he moaned out as I perfected my last hickey on him.

“There, I just needed you to shut up so I could show people. You belong to someone” I said as I leaned back looking at my work.

“Good to know.” Matt said as he leaned down, starting his own art peace on my chest.

Once he was finished he grabbed my hips standing me up. “Lets go baby” He grabbed my hand pulling me towards the door. I stopped in the mirror fixing my hair and seeing Matt's two hickeys, one on each breast. Matt walked over to the mirror inspecting the couple I left trailing down his neck. “God you are so sexy” He said, kissing my cheek as he guided me out to the party.

As Matt and I stepped back into the party, the loud music and chatter hit me like a wave. The room felt like it was spinning a little, but I held onto Matt's arm for balance. We were just about to make our way back to the group when Chris spotted us from across the room.

He ran over with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "There you are," he said, stopping in front of us. His eyes flicked between Matt and me before landing on me. "Y/N, I need you bad."

My eyebrows shot up, and Matt's posture immediately tensed beside me, sensing something was off. Chris, however, seemed entirely unfazed by the undercurrent of tension.

"I'm sorry," Chris said with a playful shrug, glancing over at Matt, "No, not like that anymore. I need you as my beer pong partner." He laughed realizing how bad his first sentence sounded.

Matt's grip on my arm tightened, but before I could even ask what he meant, Chris waved a hand dismissively and added with a wink, I couldn't help but laugh, feeling the tension ease a bit. "You scared me for a second there," I joked, shaking my head at Chris.

Matt let out a small laugh too, his shoulders loosening as he realized it was just Chris being his usual, over-the-top self. "Yeah, she’s off-limits for now," Matt said, his tone affectionate but teasing. "But you can have her for beer pong."

Chris grinned and pulled me toward the game, but not before giving Matt a quick look. "Don't worry, I only need her to win this game. And you," he added, glancing at me, "are the best person for the job."

"Let’s do it then," I said, grinning and ready to dive into the chaos of the game, trying to push any lingering doubts aside.

Chris, despite being a bit too drunk to focus, had an energy that was hard to ignore. He bounced on his feet, grinning like a madman as he lined up to take his first shot. “Alright, we got this, Y/N,” he said with way too much confidence, raising his beer.

Across from us, Jake and Tara stood ready, both giving us playful smirks. Tara was already holding her own drink, clearly just as drunk as me, while Jake had a look of determination on his face, obviously eager to win. “You’re going down,” Jake said with a laugh, tossing the ping pong ball up and readying himself to launch it across the table.

Nick and Matt stood off to the side, cheering us on. Nick was practically jumping up and down in excitement, while Matt pushed himself off the wall, going behind me whispering in my ear. "Come on, Baby"

The game started off slower than I expected, with Chris getting distracted by anything and everything—whether it was a drink on the table or someone else at the party walking by. But even in his drunken state, he was surprisingly good. Tara missed her first few shots, but Jake was still hitting his, making me sweat a little. I had to focus, but thankfully, Chris and I managed to keep our heads in the game.

We took turns, and each time, I felt the tension rise. Tara and Jake had their competitive energy going, but it was clear Chris and I had the upper hand—probably because Tara and Jake were having more fun than they were serious about winning. Chris finally got it together after a few more missed throws, throwing his ball with incredible force and sinking it into one of the last cups.

“Fuck yeah!” Chris shouted, stumbling and almost tipping over. I had to grab him to stop him from falling off balance.

In the final round, it came down to one last shot. Jake was up, and I knew he was going to give it everything he had. He took a deep breath, lined up his shot, and threw the ping pong ball—only for it to bounce off the rim and miss entirely. The room fell silent for a second before Chris and I erupted into cheers.

“We did it!” I yelled, laughing as Chris grabbed me in a half-hug and spun me around. “I can’t believe we won!”

Nick and Matt, who had been watching from the sidelines, immediately started clapping and cheering. “FINALLY!” Nick shouted, high-fiving Chris.

Tara and Jake laughed good-naturedly, though I could tell they were a little disappointed. “Alright, alright, you guys earned it,” Jake said, tossing a playful glare in our direction.

An hour had passed, and the energy of the party was starting to get to me. I could feel the buzz starting to wear off, and I was ready to head home. I looked over at Matt, who was leaning against the wall, talking to Nick. He caught my eye, and I gave him a small nod, silently telling him I was ready to go.

I walked over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. "Matt, I think it's time to head home," I said, trying to keep the smile on my face, but feeling the exhaustion from the party creeping in. The lights were too bright, the music a little too loud, and I just wanted to go back to the comfort of my place.

Matt nodded, his hand immediately finding mine. "Alright, let's get out of here," he said, pulling me toward the door. We waved to Tara and a few others as we made our way out of the party and into the cool night air.

Nick, who went to get Chris and Charlie, was already making his way to the car, pulling Chris and Charlie along with him. We all piled into the car, with Matt driving, me in the passenger seat, and the rest of the crew in the back. The ride was mostly quiet, everyone content in their own thoughts after a long night.

As we drove through the city streets, I could feel the tension finally easing. The party was fun, but there was something about heading home with Matt, knowing the night was winding down. I leaned my head against the window, watching the streetlights blur past as we made our way home.

Matt glanced over at me, a small smile on his face. "You good?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Yeah," I replied, smiling back at him. "Just ready to be alone with you."

We drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence, the sounds of the car and the occasional laugh from the backseat filling the air. The night had been eventful, but now all I wanted was the peace of being home with Matt.

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0lliess @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturiolo fanfic #neighbor #roommates

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acesandocs · 1 day ago

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A while ago Calamity told me they headcannon Joey as being of Norwegian decent and I wholeheartedly approve. So here’s Ace helping Joey get into his bunad.

Putting on a sølje is easier when someone else does it for you and its a neat way to have Åse and Joey interact. It ended up looking kinda domestic so now the discord server is down with ÅsexJoey lol, sure why not.

Heres a link to the first post i made about what a bunad and a fest drakt is. if anyone wants to read about it but all you need to know is they're for the most part different things and Ace's outfit is a festrdrak and Joey's is technically a bunad.

on Joeys outfit:

According to Calamity: ‘’I imagine his parents immigrated to the US with his grandparents when they were still young and then met in the US through community’’ which could probably put the time they emigrated around the middle of the 1800s. The modern idea of bunads didn't start appearing until the start of the 1900s and kept developing from there. So most likely his family wouldn't have any bunads to pass down, but maybe some clothes that could be put together to make a bunad.

So I based Joey's on the Oslo 1892 bunad. (Its almost the exact same except for the number of buttons) which was invented post 2010s but was based on fashion from the wealthy in 1890s. Considering the hypothetical time line of when Joey’s family emigrated the suit jacket and vest probably didn't come with them from Norway but the knit socks, søljes and pants could.

The silver jewelry on his neck is called a sølje, i gave him two different types. One is based on the sølje that usually comes with the Oslo 1892 but with a few artistic liberties. The second is a heart sølje that looked like a heart with either a crown or two birds facing each other above it. It was used all over the country but some places more than others like the more southern parts of the country. It was also often a gift given to a lover, maybe it was something one of his grandparents gave to the other.

on Ace's outfit:

I have already designed a fest drakt/bunad for Ace and in that post I mentioned I couldn't find an outfit from the area to base it one so I took some innspo from the Telmark bunad instead because of the color and embroidery that I felt matched Ace’s personality. I did eventually stumble upon a bunad from the are Ace grew up in. The Toten bunad, so I redesigned her Fest drakt based on it. Its not a one to one copy so its technically still a festdrakt.

I still got to add some embroydery but instead its svartsøm on the shirt (or whats supposed to be a simplified representation of it). The apron and band around the waist are woven in a style called tavlebragd which gives it that geometric pattern.

I also gave Ace a headband this time around since her hair is to short to braid when she’s older. So now she still has something going on with her hair. Its just a normal green hair band. Would have added embroidery to it if her design wasn't getting a bit cluttered with all the patterns.

I could explain away the difference in Åse’s festdrakt by saying her old one got lost when they emigrated but idk. I might come back to it and design a new one for her younger self at some point.

As mentioned in the first post im not a clothing historian so some of this might be wrong. I tried simplifying some of th patterns on aces outfit so theyd be easie to redraw so they might not be 100% accurate. I know I also could have just designed a new outfit for joey like I did with ace instead oif basing his on a bunad that wasn't even invented before the 2000s but it takes a lot of energy and research and I’m tired.

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #lackadaisy oc #art #my art #my oc #joey lackadaisy #Åse ''ace'' olaug Årud #lackadaisy joey

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midastouch013 · 1 day ago

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Turn Back Time

Summary: Based on Turn Back Time by Daniel Schulz

Warnings: Mentions of death, Dead!Nat, Minor violence, Post Endgame, No happy ending.

P.S: This hurt me to write

P.S.S : Also, how would you feel about doing a version of this, but it was just a breakup, not dead her.

---

The rumble of the Harley-Davidson Live Wire reverberated through the quiet street, the electric hum blending with the steady rhythm of your heart. It was her bike—the one you'd gifted her on your second anniversary. A sleek machine, made for freedom and adrenaline, but also for quiet moments like these.

You sat at the red light, staring blankly at the world around you. The evening chill nipped at your skin through your jacket, and the city lights blurred in your peripheral vision. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a memory stirred.

It was your second anniversary. She had been scheduled for an emergency mission that day, something she'd cursed under her breath when she realized it clashed with your plans. Still, Natasha being Natasha, you knew she'd feel bad if she didn't go, and so you didn't stop her, but sending her off with a "Come to the garage when you're done". And she did.

You’d waited for hours in the garage, the compound eerily quiet as everyone else had gone to bed. The Live Wire gleamed under the dim lights, freshly polished, your gift to her—a machine that matched her speed, her elegance, her fire. But as the clock ticked past dinner and well into the evening, your excitement had waned, replaced by worry.

When you heard those familiar steps you stood, your heart pounding as you saw her walking toward you, her steps slower than usual, her face shadowed with exhaustion. Her black suit was stained with dirt and faint traces of blood, but when her eyes met yours, a small smile tugged at her lips.

"You waited," she said softly, her voice tinged with disbelief.

You smirked, tossing her the helmet you’d been holding. "Of course. You think I'm going to let our anniversary slide just because you're fashionably late?"

She laughed softly, shaking her head as she walked toward you. Her hand rested briefly on your cheek before she pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

"I owe you big time," she murmured.

"You can start by getting on." You gestured to the bike, and her eyes widened.

"This is..." She trailed off, running her fingers along the handlebars.

"For you," you said simply, watching her reaction.

Her lips parted, eyes glimmering under the dim garage lights. "You’re serious?"

"Dead serious. But first, you’re going to sit behind me. I want to take you somewhere."

The memory blurred as you remembered her leaning into your back, her arms securely around your waist as you sped through the night. The streets were nearly empty, the wind whipping through your hair as laughter bubbled up from behind you.

When you’d reached the first red light, you didn’t even slow down. She’d leaned closer, her voice teasing in your ear. "That’s illegal, you know."

You’d grinned, your heart pounding as adrenaline coursed through you. "So is falling in love with a spy."

The night had stretched on, the two of you riding nowhere in particular, just basking in the freedom and each other’s presence. By the time you returned to the compound, the sun had begun to rise. You’d been late, reckless even, but you wouldn’t have changed a second of it.

The cemetery was quiet, the kind of silence that wasn’t peaceful but suffocating. You pulled up on the Harley, its hum cutting through the stillness. Killing the engine, you swung your leg over and stepped off, clutching the bouquet of red irises tightly in your hand. They were her favorite—soft, delicate flowers that somehow seemed so unlike her, yet made perfect sense.

Her grave was just a few steps away, but it felt like a mile. Each step was heavier than the last, grief curling around your chest like a vice. When you finally stopped in front of the headstone, the sight of her name carved into the stone stole the breath from your lungs. Natasha Romanoff.

You crouched, setting the flowers down carefully, brushing away a stray leaf that had fallen onto the base of the stone. Your fingers lingered there for a moment before you straightened, your throat tightening as the words left your lips.

“We used to run red lights and never look back,” you whispered, the weight of the memory pressing down on you. “We used to chase long nights. Nothing wrong with that.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek, and you didn’t bother wiping it away. Your voice cracked as you continued. “'Cause I loved you, and I lost my mind. And now, I try to leave it, oh, I try. But you still haunt me, no matter where I go.”

Your heart clenched as yesterday’s encounter replayed in your mind.

Yesterday, you’d walked into her favorite coffee shop, the one she always dragged you to despite your insistence that their tea was subpar. The smell of freshly ground beans filled the air as you stepped up to the counter, hands shoved deep into your pockets. And then you saw her—or at least, you thought you did.

Red hair, cut just like hers, swayed as the woman in front of you ordered. Your heart stopped, and for one excruciating second, you were certain it was her. You didn’t breathe, didn’t think, and u tapped her shoulder—

“Natasha?”

The woman turned and the illusion shattered. A stranger’s face looked back at you, startled by you. Your cheeks burned as you stammered an apology, backing away and leaving the shop without ordering.

You’d walked down the street aimlessly, hands buried in your jacket pockets, head bowed, the lump in your throat refusing to go away. The rest of the day passed in a fog, and now here you were, standing in front of her grave with her favorite flowers and an ache in your chest you couldn’t shake.

You let out a soft, bitter laugh as you glanced at the small container of lasagna you’d brought with you. “Yeah. I though you'd like a date."

“You hated my lasagna,” you murmured, the corner of your lips twitching upward in a faint, humorless smile. “But you came back for more.”

The memory of her teasing you played vividly in your mind.

It was the first time she stayed over. She’d stood in your tiny kitchen, arms crossed and a smirk tugging at her lips as she watched you served her the rather lovely looking piece of lasagna.

“This is terrible,” she’d said to damage the ego of yours when you had claimed to make a mean lasagna earlier. She’d wrinkled her nose dramatically, setting her fork down with a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

You’d rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.”

"This is horrible," she’d declared once more, her voice laced with mock seriousness. “Truly, the worst lasagna I’ve ever had.”

"Oh, screw you,” you’d shot back, rolling your eyes. “Go back to your fancy spy food then.”

She’d shrugged, trying to suppress a laugh. “It’s edible, at least.”

You’d mock-glared at her, muttering something under your breath about ungrateful assassins, but she’d just grinned and pulled you into a kiss, the taste of lasagna still on her lips.

But the very next day, she’d shown up at your apartment with an empty Tupperware container. “So, uh, I was thinking… maybe I could take some of that ‘terrible’ lasagna to go?”

“You mean the one you hated?”

“Exactly. Got any left?”

It had become a tradition after that, every other week. She never admitted it was her favorite, but you caught the way her face lit up every time you mentioned making it.

You closed your eyes, the laughter from that memory fading into the echo of another. “And then there was that night when I didn’t even have lasagna or anything to cook, but you wanted to, so you dragged me to your favorite grocery store.”

Her favorite grocery store. You still found that absurd. She’d grabbed a cart and immediately started tossing the most random assortment of items inside—marshmallows, soy sauce, canned peaches. You’d followed her with a bewildered look, questioning every choice she made.

“Trust me,” she’d said, her lips twitching with amusement. “I have a plan.”

She didn’t have a plan. By the time you reached the checkout, you were certain half the things in the cart weren’t even going to be used. She’d sent you on wild goose chases, making you circle the store in search of things that didn’t exist, claiming it was “good cardio.”.

The store clerk had given you a look that screamed off your rocker, when you'd asked him for canned brussel sprouts, and you’d playfully glared at her while she doubled over in laughter., when the man walked away muttering something about kids nowdays, when you were probably just a few year younger than him

“You’re impossible,” you’d muttered.

“And you love it,” she’d shot back, leaning in to kiss you softly. She made up for the chaos by still eating the lasagna, no matter how strange the ingredients were that night.

“You got me running circles in your favorite store,” you murmured now, your fingers brushing the irises. “And I lost you, and I lost my mind.”

You actually had lost it.

The day Clint came back without her.

You hadn’t believed it at first. You’d waited for her to walk in after him, your heart pounding in anticipation. But when he looked at you with tear-filled eyes, the truth hit you like a freight train.

You’d snapped.

“You left her?!” you’d screamed, shoving him back. He hadn’t fought back, guilt etched into every line of his face.

Steve had stepped in, trying to calm you down, but his words only made it worse. “You need to stop—”

“Don’t you dare tell me to stop!” you’d yelled, your voice raw with anguish.

And then you’d turned on Clint, your fist connecting with his jaw. You were ready to hit him again, to make him pay for leaving her, to take out all your pain and anger on him, but Tony had stepped in, pulling you away. He’d wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as you broke down.

You’d sobbed against him, your grief spilling out in heaving, uncontrollable waves.

Now, you stared at her name, your voice a broken whisper. “And now, I try to leave it all behind. But I still see you, no matter where I go.”

Just this morning, you’d seen a blonde walking down the street, her face inexplicably morphing into Natasha’s for a fleeting second. You’d blinked, and her face was gone, leaving you shaken and hollow.

The picture was worn, its edges frayed from the number of times you’d taken it out, clinging to it like a lifeline. Wanda had taken it during one of those rare, blissful moments at the compound. You and Nat had been baking—well, trying to bake. The kitchen had ended up more like a battleground of flour and dough than anything resembling culinary success.

The memory unfolded vividly in your mind.

“You call this a cookie?” she’d teased, holding up your misshapen attempt.

“You’re one to talk, Miss Burnt-to-a-Crisp,” you’d fired back, smirking as you threw a handful of flour at her.

She’d retaliated instantly, laughing as she chased you around the kitchen with her own handful of flour, her laughter so pure and carefree it still echoed in your mind. And then, just as you’d both caught your breath, you’d pulled her under the mistletoe.

“Oh, real subtle,” she’d said, a playful glint in her eye.

“Can’t waste an opportunity,” you’d replied, leaning in to kiss her, the taste of laughter still fresh on your lips.

Wanda had snapped the photo just moments after the kiss. Both your faces had been smeared with flour, and your grins had been so wide they’d hurt. You hadn’t cared. You’d never felt more in love, more alive, than you had in that moment.

Now, standing in front of her grave, you gently rubbed your thumb over her part of the photo, your eyes misting over. She looked so happy, so effortlessly beautiful.

“If I could turn back time and make it all alright,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Only a piece of you and me will keep me warm all night. If I could turn back time and rewrite every line… If only I could, but baby, I can’t.”

Your legs gave out as the weight of it all crushed you, and you fell to your knees. The photo slipped from your fingers, landing softly on the grass as you wrapped your arms around the cold stone, holding it as though it were her.

The sobs tore from your chest, raw and guttural, as you screamed into the silence, your voice breaking with the force of your anguish.

“Why did you leave me?” you choked out, your forehead pressing against the stone. “Why did you have to go?”

You shouted her name, again and again, your cries reverberating through the stillness of the cemetery. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. She was supposed to be here. You were supposed to grow old together, to share more laughs, more kisses, more everything.

But she was gone.

And all you had left were memories and a photo, a cruel reminder of everything you’d lost.

You stayed there, clutching her grave like it was the only thing tethering you to this world, as the pain poured out of you in waves. And for the first time in a long while, you let yourself feel it all—the love, the loss, the unbearable ache of missing her.

So I'ma scream, shout, let it all out And scream and shout and let it all out for you, for you So I'ma scream, shout, let it all out And scream and shout and let it all out for you, for you

The cold of the stone seeped into your skin as you stayed on your knees, still clutching her headstone as though holding on tighter might somehow bring her back. You’d been sitting in silence for a while now, your sobs reduced to quiet sniffles. But the memories kept coming, relentless and vivid, dragging you back into the moments you couldn’t escape.

Your voice was hoarse as you began again, barely above a whisper. “A few days after we lost you... and Tony…” you paused, swallowing hard as the grief twisted in your chest. “After we beat Thanos, after we saved the world, it didn’t feel like a victory. It felt hollow without you.”

You pulled back slightly, sitting back on your heels as your gaze fell to the flowers you’d brought. “I couldn’t face anyone. Not Steve, not Bruce, not Clint…” You clenched your fists, the memory cutting through the fog of your grief. “So I went to a bar. Alone. It was the middle of the night, and I just wanted to forget, even if it was just for a little while.”

The scene played out in your mind like it had happened yesterday.

The bar had been dimly lit and nearly empty. You’d taken a seat in the corner, ordering drink after drink, trying to drown the ache in your chest. But it hadn’t worked. No amount of alcohol could fill the gaping hole she’d left behind.

By the time you were drunk, you’d pulled out your phone. Your fingers had hovered over her name in your contacts, and before you could think better of it, you’d hit call.

It had gone straight to voicemail.

Your voice cracked as you recited the words you’d said that night, the pain still fresh. “I hit you up like, ‘Hey, girl, can we talk right now?’ I know you’re far away, but… ‘Can we hang right now?’”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head at your own desperation. “I tried again. And again. But every time, it was the same. Straight to voicemail.”

You remembered slurring into your phone, your voice thick with tears and alcohol. “It’s me. I just… I just need to hear your voice. Please, Nat. I don’t know what to do without you.”

You’d hung up after the fifth attempt, throwing your phone onto the sticky bar counter in frustration. The bartender had looked at you with pity, but you didn’t care.

“I loved you, and I lost my mind,” you whispered again, your thumb absentmindedly brushing over the photo on the ground beside you. “And now I try to leave it all behind. But you still haunt me, no matter where I go.”

You ran a hand through your hair, exhaling shakily. “That night… I kept talking to you like you were still there. Like maybe, somehow, you’d hear me.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper as you repeated your drunken plea. “I know it’s getting late, girl, I don’t care right now. I tried to call you on the phone, but you don’t pick up.”

The weight of it all came crashing down again, and you looked up at the stone, tears streaming down your face. “I lost you, Nat. And I lost my mind. And now I’m trying to leave it… I’m trying so damn hard. But you… you still haunt me. No matter where I go.”

Your hands trembled as you reached for the photo again, holding it tightly to your chest. The image of her flour-covered, grinning face was a cruel reminder of everything you’d lost.

As you finally rose to your feet, feeling the weight of the moment, you took a deep breath. The grief, the pain, the endless ache in your chest—it was a part of you now, something you couldn’t outrun. As you stepped away from her grave, your mind replayed one final memory, a memory that cut deeper than all the rest.

Your last argument.

It had been after one of the most dangerous missions you’d ever been on. You’d almost died saving her, and despite everything, the first thing she’d done when you’d woken up in the medbay wasn’t to hold you or to tell you how grateful she was. It was to push you away.

“Tasha, what’s wrong?” you had asked, your voice weak but desperate to understand.

She had avoided your gaze, her arms folded across her chest, her eyes scanning the floor as if she couldn’t bear to meet yours.

“Maybe it’s a mistake,” she had muttered, barely above a whisper. “Maybe it’s a mistake if we let the clock break.”

You had frowned, completely confused. “What? What the hell are you talking about?”

Her lips had tightened, and she had taken a deep breath before meeting your eyes. There was a coldness in her stare that hadn’t been there before, a defensive barrier she hadn’t needed with you. “We’ve been through so much, and I�� I’m scared, okay?”

You had shaken your head, trying to wrap your mind around the words. “Scared? Scared of what? Us?”

She had nodded slightly, the hesitation in her voice more painful than you ever thought it would be. “I’ve been thinking about it. Everything in my mind… everything in my mind is telling me that it’s a mistake.”

The words had hit you like a punch to the gut.

“What the hell? No! You’re wrong, Nat. This—us—this isn’t a mistake. We’re solid. We’re gonna be okay.”

But she had shaken her head, her eyes welling with tears. “You don’t get it,” she had whispered. “I’m trying to protect you. I’m trying to keep you from getting hurt. If we keep going like this…” She couldn’t finish the thought. She didn’t want to.

You had pushed forward, your frustration and confusion bleeding into anger. “So you’re just gonna shut me out? After everything? After I almost died to save you?” Your voice had risen, your chest tightening with a mix of hurt and disbelief. “You don’t get to pull away from me, Natasha. I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together. Always.”

Her face had faltered then, the tightness in her features melting just enough for you to see the raw fear she was hiding.

“I know you think that. I know you believe that. But everything in my mind, everything in my mind is telling me…” Her voice had cracked as she choked out the last words, her tears spilling over as she struggled to admit what was hurting her most. “That it’s a mistake… and it ends in heartbreak.”

The silence between you had been suffocating. It hadn't been the first time she had ever admitted something so vulnerable, something so painfully real, yet this time it was different. You had stood there, frozen, trying to process her words. You had wanted to reach out, to hold her, to make her understand that none of that mattered, that you were stronger than fear.

You had taken a deep breath, your hands shaking as you had gotten off the bed and stepped closer to her, trying to close the gap that had formed between you both. “No. No, Nat. You’re not listening to me. You’re not the one who gets to decide what happens between us. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not. We’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna fight this together. You and me. Always.”

Her face had softened then, her breath shaky as she met your gaze, her shoulders sagging, finally giving in. “I don’t want to lose you.”

You had wrapped your arms around her, pulling her in close as you whispered, “You won’t. I’m here, Nat. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out. Together.”

She had clung to you, tears soaking your shirt, her face buried in your neck. You had held her tight, reassuring her over and over, “We’re gonna be okay. I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together. Forever, you hear me?”

And in that moment, the tension that had been hanging between you two slowly started to fade, replaced with the warmth of your embrace and the quiet certainty that, no matter what, you would find your way back to each other.

“Together.” She had whispered, her voice thick with emotion, and you had nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

You had pulled back slightly to look her in the eye. “Always.”

And with that, you both had finally breathed, both of you knowing that no matter what came next, you would face it together—united, strong, and ready for whatever the world threw at you.

And now, standing at her grave, you could only wish you had more time to make it all right. You could still feel her arms around you, the weight of her presence in your soul.

But she was gone, and you were left to pick up the pieces.

“Guess who got the heartbreak, Nat.” you whispered bitterly, the words more for yourself than for her.

And with a last look at the stone, at least for this week, you turned around, pocketing the picture of you too.

If you could turn back time and make it alright, you would, but you couldn't

---

#avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha romanoff angst #natasha x y/n #natasha marvel #angst #avengers : endgame #post endgame #Spotify

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leesolbeesol · 1 day ago

Text

I LOVE YOU! 愛してる! 사랑해!

sungho x fem!reader (ft. mild instigator!taesan and mistaken!woonhak)

GENRE: pure unedited fluff! SUMMARY: Sungho keeps avoiding you... so why is he confessing to you in Japanese? WARNINGS: she/her pronouns used one time | highschool!au but you can ignore that most of the time | this is my world and overtly self-insert so reader doesn't speak japanese and takes chinese in school NOTES: everyone say thank you boynextdoor for the fantastic comeback! seriously though, all their songs are so good i cant even believe it also no proofreading we post like god intended. WC: 2.2k (woww)

It was all Woonhak’s fault—that’s what Sungho thought, at least. He set up the damned snowball fight after all.

The first time you saw—really saw—Sungho was when you cast a snowball at him and the icy contents landed right in his face and froze him when they snuck through his coat down his neck. You’re not sure why he didn’t block it, you saw him evade others thrown with far less warning and far more force. Instead, he stood with a ready snowball in his gloved hand. That’s the problem—he stood. He just stared at you as your attack wet his brown hair and dropped between his collar and his neck. You had met Sungho a handful of times, but when you did you didn’t speak to him much at all. He was kind of quiet and there were plenty of other mutual friends around for you to chat with, so you didn’t press it. He was pretty, of course, but that alone wasn’t enough for you to individually pursue him. Plus, anytime you showed up it’s like he suddenly had somewhere else to be. You eventually assumed he just didn’t like you all that much, and that was fine. A little disappointing, but fine. After your attack, his expression didn’t change, save for his eyebrows which raised a little. The poor boy looked like he had seen a ghost. You would have put more thought into it if another friend of yours, Taesan, cruelly dared you to a fire—or, snow—fight by crashing an icy cold ball of snow right onto your head. Almost as fast as Sungho had come to the front of your conscious, you were taken away again. The image of him, however, was burned into your mind. Why did he look at you like that? Why did he not react? How did he look so perfect? Those were some pretty frequent thoughts, though the last one you tried to ignore. Regardless, it kept coming back. The image of his soft brown hair, long for the boys your age, sprinkled with snow and his surprised, slightly parted lips came to you at the most inconvenient times.

—

The second time you saw Sungho, he was sitting on an uncomfortable plastic chair on the slightly raised wooden stage of your auditorium, his navy guitar slotted in his hands, about to start another song to the cheers of the small audience that had gathered during their free period. You remember him prefacing the song with something along the lines of ‘this is a work-in-progress,’ he tsked, ‘so it’s not done yet, but I hope you like it so far.’ You join the group on the periphery, smiling and nodding along to the song he starts. His voice rings clear around the room as he strums the hook. His hair falls just over his eyes that close when he starts singing the lyrics. You shoo away the thought that tells you he looks handsome—really handsome, especially in his element with the music swirling around him. It makes no sense, but when you look at him you want to talk to him. You want to ask him what inspired him to write it, you want to ask him how he got into music, you want to ask him. The song is heartfelt throughout, but the lyric that sticks with you is ‘yeah, I’ve got it bad,’ because that’s the line that preceded the chorus, the tentative chorus in which he critically screwed up when he saw you. You swear it was like his brain stopped for a minute when he saw you swaying along. Wrong chord, wrong lyric, wrong chord, again. You could feel the glances being exchanged by the confused crowd. After he tore his eyes away from you, he barely got it together for the end of the in-progress work. You looked to Woonhak, a few people to your left, and he just shrugged. The song was good, but still, you couldn’t quite figure out what was up with Sungho.

—

The third time you saw Sungho, you barely saw him at all. This was because of the open door, the paper thin walls of your classroom, and Sungho’s loud voice that fills whatever space he’s in. You infer that that’s how he is normally—‘normally’ meaning specifically not around you. It’s beneficial here, though. You were mercifully sitting against the interior wall and took the golden opportunity to rest your head and take a break from thinking so hard about… well, lots of things. Classes, new collectables, what you were going to have for dinner, you know what it’s like. It was Taesan’s, not Sungho’s, voice that broke you from your cursory peace. Taesan’s voice is certainly loud, especially when he’s surprised.

“You’re joking!” Taesan said and was quickly shushed by Sungho. It appeared to just be the two of them. It was strange—you were friends with most of Sungho’s friends, but barely friends with Sungho himself at all.

“Quiet down! I’m not kidding.” Sungho groaned, and you heard a clunk against the wall your ear was against, so you assumed he was leaning too. “This is just what I’m like, I don’t know what to do at all. I’ve got it really bad.” Taesan laughed at his friend’s complaint. It’s funny, that line was almost the same thing he said in the song. “It’s not funny.” He sighed. He was scolding Taesan, but you feel yourself frown as if he could hear your thoughts about his recurring phrase.

“It’s a little funny.” Taesan presses him. Sungho does not sound like he thinks it's funny.

“I’m being serious, Taesan. She’s all I ever want to think about.” Your ears perk up at the mention of a pronoun. Sungho has a crush? That’s news to you, at least. You mean, maybe it could be something else, but it damn sounds like he has a crush. This makes your heart twist in a way that you are highly uncomfortable with. “Everything's a mess, I’m all over the place. I can’t figure this… this thing out.” He laments. You kind of get it, though. Something you don’t get, however, is the way you hope he doesn’t figure it out. The part you refused to think about was that you didn’t want him to like someone else. God, you hadn’t even spoken to this boy. This is pathetic. You tore your ear away from the wall and covered your ears. Out of sight—or, earshot—out of mind, that’s how it works right? Apparently not, because even after you can’t hear him and that moment gets farther in the past, you think about him. Why can’t you stop thinking about him? This is so stupid.

—

The Friday that Sungho came to school late with his hair sticking up and wearing wrinkled clothes was, counterintuitively, the day you found him the most attractive yet. He sat down after whispering a hushed apology to your frowning teacher. He wasn’t even wearing his contacts, and he always wore his contacts. His glasses framed his face nicely, you decided. You looked back down at your paper as quickly as you looked up at the latecomer entering your classroom. It was hard to focus on your work for the rest of the day. In your Mandarin class, you bombed your quiz. How do you even write that character? You had no idea. All of the sudden, ‘高’ only made you think of Sungho and his stupid broad shoulders and not at all if there’s a hook at the bottom or not. Damn you, Sungho! You got what he meant by the lyrics in the song he had played in the auditorium. You got it bad. As you glanced out the window, you saw the very beginning of the budding cherry blossoms. They look so happy, all bunched up together and starting to bloom in hues of soft pink.

They look the same as you exit from the main door, pink and falling and beautiful. You pause outside those doors, taking in the sight. The trees are pretty, even against the gray sky. You feel more like the gray sky, conflicted. Especially so because you heard Sungho tell Taesan that he “couldn’t take it anymore,” and was “going to tell her today.” That certainly dampened your mood. Not that you have any skin in the game, but you secretly hope that he finds a reason not to.

You hear a commotion near the doors, and see Sungho rather unceremoniously shoved out of the door by, by the looks of it, more than one set of arms. He looks like a deer in headlights, but starts moving anyway. You watch him, puzzled, before he starts walking over… to you. Behind him, you see Woonhak’s face poke out of the door frame before he looks to be pulled back by someone. You turn your attention back to Sungho, and realize you weren’t mistaken at all. He was walking towards you, holding something behind his back. A slight smile plays on his nervous lips as he closes the remaining distance between you, and you can’t help but glance around to see if this is some kind of joke. He was “going to tell her today.” Is he serious? Are you dreaming?

“What is it?” You ask, though you’re not quite sure why you’re asking or what you hope the answer is. He says nothing, simply extending a hand from behind his back and presenting you with a neatly folded piece of white printer paper. The ink on the inside bled through, slightly visible on the back.

“Aishiteru. Open it.” He encourages you and rolls his bottom lip in his teeth. You had watched him long enough—not in a stalkerish way! Just… in the way that you like looking at his face—to know that this is the face he makes solving a difficult equation. You also know enough about Japanese to recognize the romantic nature of his initial phrase. Why the hell is he speaking to you in Japanese? Regardless, if you weren’t blushing already, you definitely felt heat creeping up to your cheeks now. Doing as he instructs, you gingerly open the folded paper like it’s an artifact that could disintegrate if you so much as touched the paper the wrong way.

It doesn’t disintegrate, but it might as well have. You stare at what’s written with a blank face. You recognize every other character (your Chinese teacher would be proud), but this is definitely not Chinese. You do recognize the swirling nature of what’s written, however. You furrow your eyebrows, why the hell does Sungho think you speak Japanese? Why is he writing to you in Chinese? Now you’re more confused than nervous. The butterflies in your stomach have settled, evidently asking the same questions you are.

“Sungho,” his name isn’t a question, but it comes out sounding like one, “I can’t read Japanese.” You hold up the paper to him as if he didn’t know it was in Japanese, and he looks absolutely petrified as your words hit him.

“Really?” His voice comes out high-pitched, and he clears his throat. “I mean, you actually don’t speak Japanese?” His register is back to normal, and now he sounds just as confused as you.

“I take Chinese, who told you I take Japanese? What does this even say, anyway?” A smile tugs at your lips. Oh, Sungho. He’s not stupid, you don’t think, maybe it was Woonhak who told him. Woonhak could probably mistake Chinese for Japanese. It could’ve been Jaehyun.

He groans, “Woonhak did.” This satisfies the first part of your question, but he seems hesitant to answer the second part. You raise your eyebrows, prompting him, “well, this is super lame,” what you don’t know is that he internally curses himself, Taesan had told him ‘no self-deprecating statements,’ oops, “but I thought it would make the way I told you unique.”

“Told me what?” You cock your head. The butterflies are back. Thanks to Taesan, you have a sneaking suspicion of what it is, but you refuse to celebrate until you get confirmation. It’s like in debate (your friend had told you way too much), you can think you won the most rounds but you can’t say you won anything until you’re officially told so. It’s like that.

I love you! 愛してる! 사랑해!

“I like you. I like you a lot. I’ve got it really bad.” He smiles and you think your heart might melt or explode, you’re not sure which feels more imminent. You’ve been told you won. It’s like a big weight has been lifted. The cherry blossoms look pinker.

“That’s what you wrote in the song!” You remember, hoping that he’ll be impressed you were paying attention.

“Yeah,” he says sheepishly, rubbing his neck, “that was about you.” It might be the best sight you’ve ever seen. This kind, handsome boy telling you he wrote a whole song about you. “It’s finished now, I can play it if you want… is that embarrassing?” He’s asking for reassurance, and, oh, do you give him reassurance. Reassurance comes in the form of putting your arms around him. Actions speak better than words—that’s your reasoning, at least.

“That’s not embarrassing. That’s cute.” You tell him, though your words are slightly muffled since you’re not speaking directly to him anymore. The butterflies in your stomach cheer you on as you muster all the courage you can find in the deep crevices of your heart and mind, “I like you too, Sungho.” You tell him, and you can hear his heart beating through his coat.

FINAL NOTES: yippee!!! going to a debate tournament wont post for a few days love you mwah

#bnd sungho #boynextdoor sungho #bnd sungho x reader #sungho x reader #sungho x you #kpop fluff #boynextdoor #boynextdoor fanfic #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor au #kpop au #kpop fanfic #willeeam shakespeare #bnd fluff

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