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thatssofruity9 · 2 days ago

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What about the boys with an alt girl though?

Cw: there are a few physical descriptions used for said alt girls in question but only when it was necessary.

Authors note: This is not self insert and as matter a of fact I’m not even sure why you brought it up! ㋛ She’s lying

F!reader X The CoD boys

Gaz: is dating a fully gothic woman, somewhere between romantic goth and traditional goth. Elvira meets morticia Addams. Not so much a tattoo kinda girl just red lipstick, floor length black dresses with bell sleeves and a corset. Gaz had been mildly afraid of her ever since he caught her talking to a ghost In their kitchen. He’s never noped out of a conversation quicker in his life. He likes to tell people she “speaks in riddles” ie she quotes Edgar Allan Poe sometimes. When they went on holiday he took her to the Cologne Cathedral because who wants to have a relaxing margarita on the beach when you can take your girlfriend to a 600 year old creepy building instead?

Soap: she’s not so much of an alternative girl as she is just a witch. The phrase “stop touching my altar” is probably the most commonly heard sentence in their house. Tattoos, funky hairstyles, hoards of jewelry, long flowing skirts are how just about everyone would describe her. She talks to the moon, Johnny doesn’t really understand why but he does ask “What did she say?” When his sweetheart comes back inside. She has slowly taught him the original folk tales and histories of every holiday, custom and tradition. Johnny has learned that deep down everything is spooky just like his girl. Halloween at their house is THE place to be.

Ghost: big scary man and his Kawaii girlfriend, a tale as old as time. The double takes people do when they go in public together are hilarious. She’s quite literally the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. Of course, their entire house is pastel pink which he really couldn’t care less about. His lovely woman does tend to edit pictures of him to fit her Instagram aesthetic though and he’s not too sure how he feels about the pink glitter filter She uses on every photo. The amount of her pretty pink clothes he’s turned into a mess because he simply doesn’t know how to do laundry correctly is outrageous. She’s had to learn the hard way that Simon just won’t wear the clothes she buys him if they’re pink, he will however take the pink Hello Kitty lunchbox she got him every single day to work.

Price: Similar to Ghost they get funny looks in public but only because what do you mean that heavily tattooed woman is his wife? There are very few parts of her body that aren’t covered, from her neck down to her feet. Kind of an artsy grungy style, overalls and Doc Martens are the usual. The real kicker of it all is how similar their taste in music is, divorced dad rock all the way, baby! That kind of music was made specifically for old men and pretty women with thick eyeliner. John damn near had a heart attack when she just went and got his name tattooed but she just has so many that she didn’t even think twice before getting it done. She’s the kind of girl that says things like “I want your leg bone when you die” with 100% sincerity, John is scared of very little, but the way she says that with a little bit of excitement in her eye is well… a little jarring.

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pagesfromthevoid · 3 days ago

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Honey & Glass | r. r.

Robert "Bob" Reynolds x superpowered!reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, not a lot of Bob interaction just yet, Valentina and Walker need their own warnings

Author's Notes: I love him, okay? I'm not even sorry.

Masterlist | Talk to Me! | AO3

Six Months Before the Void

“Sergeant Barnes, if you would just give me a chance –,”

“A chance to do what, exactly?” Bucky asked, turning to face the young woman who had –for the better part of an hour –been following him through the charity event.

“Help with your campaign!” She explained, throwing her hands in the air. “Sir, you’re an icon. A legend. So it genuinely pains me to say this. But you suck at talking in front of the camera.”

He stared at her for a long moment, considering what she was saying. Okay, sure –he wasn’t great at interviews. But he was polling better than everyone else running against him. That had to mean something, right? He rolled his neck, pushing aside an annoying tingle that had shot up his spine.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she continued, stepping in front of him, putting her hands up as if she could stop him from leaving. “You’re thinking that you’re polling better than everyone else running against you, and that has to mean something.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “How did –,”

“And it does mean something –but it won’t if you don’t learn how to address the public. The whole ‘man of the people’ schtick gets old fast when it’s less endearing and more ‘is this man actually qualified?’”

He doesn’t have time for this, he decided, shaking his head. Then he reached out to just move her –something he didn’t really like doing, but she was too persistent and kind of annoying, so he needed her to go away.

“I’m not going away!” She exclaimed, ducking away from his touch –as if she anticipated it. “Also don’t manhandle people –sir, do you realize how bad that looks? Like, our mayor does enough of that.”

“How are you doing that?” He demanded, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to the side. Though his grip wasn’t tight –he didn’t want to hurt her.

“Doing what?”

“Can you read my mind?” He demanded again, glaring down at her.

“I mean…,” she dragged out the phrase, making a ‘maybe’ sort of motion with her hands. “Listen, I told you I knew what you were thinking. But that’s not all I can do –and I can use it to help you.”

“Why on earth would you want to use your superpowers to help me run for Congress?”

“Because I actually think you can do good for Brooklyn,” she insisted, and Bucky swore that she was being genuine. “I am being genuine, sir. I care about my city. And I do think you can do a lot more than most can. But you need a public relations specialist and I am really good at my job. Theoretically, at least.”

“Theoretically?” He asked, frowning deeply.

“I mean, you would be my first client because I finished my Master’s like right before the Blip then disappeared technically, but I know I can be really good at my job if you just give me a chance. Please. I’ll even do it for free!”

“I’m not –you’re not doing it for free. I’ll pay you –,”

“Yes!”

Present Day –D.C.

“Any word on our friend?” Bucky asks, glancing at his PR specialist slash assistant slash…well, everything, really.

He isn’t sure how to describe the young woman who stood next to him, because she’s a jack of all trades at this point in his very short Congressional career. She started off managing his social media and helping his public image before the election. Bucky had to give credit where credit was due: the girl is good at her job. Her speech writing skills are solid. She keeps his message and support consistent. She even managed to get him less stiff and weird on camera. She keeps him on schedule and pushes him through things he doesn’t want to do, with both a smile and a snarky comment that lightens his frustrations.

Her abilities came in handy quite a bit in these tasks. Between reading the minds of the people around her –knowing what they wanted, how they felt –and being able to project positive thoughts into a crowd…well, Bucky is glad she was so persistent six months ago.

But then she had a run-in with one of his opponents supporters, showing up to work disheveled and frustrated.

“It’s nothing,” she had insisted, “Just some asshole who thinks I’m a monster for helping you.”

Bucky decided that he could teach her a few things too.

She was a fast learner, and a willing student. If she got knocked down, she got up again and immediately sought feedback and improvement. While she’s no super soldier, she is able to hold her own if she needs to —after a few months. Bucky taught her how to handle a weapon or two, she taught him how to use Twitter and TikTok (which he hated, but damn did it help his numbers). It’s a good partnership.

The latest lesson is a bit of espionage –nothing super intense. Bucky is working on how to get Valentina Alegra de Fontaine impeached –and while his assistant was a great asset in confirming that Valentina was, in fact, guilty…well, the public doesn’t know he has a mutant in his employment. And while Bucky has no issue telling anyone, she does –and it isn’t his secret to tell.

“None of my family knows,” she explained over a beer one night after another charity gala. “I don’t…It’s not something I need anyone to know. I already know what everyone thinks; I don’t need them to start thinking specifically about me too. I don’t think I could handle it.”

“Her assistant –her name is Mel –is on the fence about her boss,” she explains, clicking away at her phone as she sends him over her notes. “I tried talking to her but she pretty much immediately beelined for the door when I got closer.”

“Who's the unapproachable one now?” He jokes, grinning down at her as he grabs a champagne glass for both of them.

She snorts in response, taking a sip of the bubbly he hands her. “Still you, sir.”

“Fair enough,” he agrees, nodding some as he looks around the room. “Anything else?”

“She’s getting rid of any and all evidence of O.X.E and something called Project Sentry,” she continues, though she’s hiding her lips behind her glass. “I couldn’t figure out what that was –I’m sure something ratchet.”

“Ratchet?” He asks, frowning deeply.

“Terrible,” she offers.

Her and her millennial slang. He couldn’t understand it half the time.

“I’ll try to get closer –,”

“Don’t,” he interrupts, stepping in front of her. “Cool it for the night. I have some angles that I can work with; I need you to do what you do best now.”

“Get people to think you’re not a weird old man from the forties?”

“...yes.”

“Can do, sir.” She salutes him, grinning up at him.

Bucky shoos her away, shaking his head, then heads off to locate Congressman Gary about his findings.

*****

She sees coordinates.

She knows she promised Bucky she wouldn’t get closer to Valentina, but she never promised she wouldn’t pay attention to Mel.

“I know you’re avoiding me,” she comments as she slips behind Mel with a polite smile and glass of champagne. “I don’t know why. I thought we were like…I don’t know, two peas in a pod. Assistants to weirdly powerful people –,”

“Oh, I’m not –,” Mel starts but bites her tongue. “I’m not avoiding you. Just super busy. You know, being an assistant to a weirdly powerful person.”

She nods, sipping her drink thoughtfully. But Mel is focused on her tablet again, and the coordinates are flashing in her mind as she looks at a name –John Walker. U.S. Agent. Dime store Captain America. She makes a face behind her glass, unable to help it.

The same coordinates flash again, indicating that Walker was being sent somewhere to get rid of someone named Belova in Utah.

She hums as she jots down the coordinates in her phone, fully intending to send them to Bucky.

“Well, well –finally, I get the pleasure of meeting the little girl who’s made our junior congressman remotely functional,” Valentina announces from behind, catching her off guard. “You know, you could do a lot better.”

She smiles politely, though she wonders if it looks as forced as it feels. “I don’t think I could, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Valentina hums, bumping shoulders with Mel, who looks painfully uncomfortable. Her thoughts are loud. What is she doing? She literally told me not to talk to this girl. Why is she talking to her? What’s her angle? Is she trying to fire me? Do I want to be fired?? “Could work with us –I bet your skills would do wonders.”

She narrows her eyes at the inflection –at the implication –in Valentina’s tone. “I think you have an excellent assistant already, Ms. de Fontaine –,”

“Oh, I don’t need another assistant. Mel is perfect,” though her tone sounds…alarmingly poisonous. “You, though…you could be so much more than just Bucky Barnes’ pretty assistant.”

“I am more than that, ma’am,” she argues, narrowing her eyes.

“I think you have the potential to be a hero,” Valentina continues, ignoring her. “Think about what you could do with those powers of yours.”

“I don’t –,”

“Oh please,” the director of the CIA interrupts. “Number one, it’s obvious that you can read minds. You know way too much and have almost no contacts in D.C. Just because everyone else in this room is oblivious doesn’t mean I am. Number two, you have an actual talent –something that can literally calm down the worst of the worst without even touching them. Think about what you could do with that.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but stops herself. Valentina is manipulating her. She knows that the director is. It’s obvious, and Valentina isn’t even trying to hide it.

“I’m making an impact here,” she says, though she’s not half as confident as she was before.

“Are you, though?”

“More so than a woman experimenting on humans and destroying the evidence.”

Valentina laughs –well, snorts really, because her laugh is not from amusement. “Shit, you know. I thought I could get you. That’s unfortunate. Now you’re just a liability.”

Her brow furrows and as she’s about to call out –for Bucky, for someone –there’s a high pitched screeching in her ears and everything goes fuzzy. She curses out loud as Valentina calls for help –as someone helps her up and leads her away. She can’t hear what’s going on –she can’t see what’s being presented to the crowd. But through blurry eyes, she can see Bucky trying to make his way through the crowd.

She’s blacked out before she knows if he’s going to help her.

*****

Her head hurts.

That’s all she can focus on.

There’s a dull ache in her skull like someone took a screwdriver and tried to scramble her brain through her ears.

The pain, however, is overcome by the sound of gunshots echoing in an empty room.

She rolls over, bumping into a crate or something, and tries to push herself onto her knees. There’s yelling and gunshots and she’s barely able to think let alone move. But she manages to get herself sitting up, eyes screwed tight as she presses her head into the crate behind her. She needs to get her bearings. She needs to figure out where she is and she needs to call Bucky because she fucked up and now she’s probably in danger and –

“It’s getting kind of tense out there,” a voice whispers –trembling, soft.

But she’s not expecting anyone to be so close to her and she screams out, throwing herself away from him.

The gunshots stop, and there’s a silence for a moment as the weapons shift towards her and this man she doesn’t recognize. Though, she’s certain that even if she could see properly without feeling like her brain was bleeding, she wouldn’t know who he is.

“And who are you?” Someone asks, and she can hear footsteps coming closer.

She tries to mask herself –hide from whatever is probably going to kill her –but the moment she even considers her powers –there’s another violent jolt down her spine and she cries out in pain.

“Oh,” the man above her says, putting his hands up. “I’m –I’m uh, Bob. I don’t –well, I don’t know who she is –,”

“Don’t involve me in this,” she hisses as he points to her, though she looks up as John Walker peers down at her. She glares at him through squinted, bloodshot eyes.

“Aren’t you…Bucky’s assistant?” He asks, holstering his gun.

She nods once, swallowing hard. “Yeah…yeah, I am.”

“How the hell did you both get in here?” the Russian asks.

“I don’t remember,” Bob admits, still trembling some as he looks down at her on the floor. “I found her like that –,”

“I think I was kidnapped,” she explains as Walker offers her a hand to stand. She slaps it away and slowly pushes herself up. “Fucking Valentina –,”

“So just to confirm,” the Russian begins. “Valentina sent…all of us here, to kill each other. Plus two civilians?”

“I think she sent me here to get killed,” she offers, leaning against the crate to hold her up. “I, uh, can read minds and shit.”

“Ah, okay. Liability,” the Russian confirms, as if it was obvious. “Doesn’t explain Bob though.”

“Wait, you guys were sent?” He asks, and she’s taking a breath and finally finds herself focusing a little better.

She glances at Bob now, taking a moment to finally look at him. He’s in scrubs, disheveled and confused. She, probably inappropriate for the moment, thinks he would be kind of cute if he was a little more cleaned up. Or least not in scrubs.

There’s not a chance in hell she can read his thoughts –her brain is still a mess. She tries to focus her gaze, blinking away the fuzziness that had overwhelmed her. Things were getting clearer; their thoughts —though still fragmented and scrambled like a TV without signal —were finally breaking through. He’s standing there barefoot and it's hard to believe that he wasn’t just…here already. He seems too confused to have snuck in, and more importantly too scrambled.

“I don’t think it matters, really,” she finally says, standing up straight. “We need to get out because Valentina is absolutely trying to kill all of us.”

“Okay, these two —yeah, I get it,” Walker argues, motioning to the Russian —Yelena— and the other woman —Ava —she’s gathered. “But I’m a decorated war vet. I was Captain America —,”

Bob suddenly laughs, and the sound feels almost unnerving in the situation they’re in. She turns to him, his fragmented thoughts loud and…and scary.

Walker isn’t amused. “What’s so funny, Bobby?”

Some thought —or maybe emotion —flares up in Bob but he just laughs uncomfortably again.

“You keep saying you’re Captain America,” he explains, wringing his hands.

“And why is that funny?” Walker presses and his thoughts are getting louder now too.

“It’s just…you’re an asshole.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Walker looks mortified and angry. Yelena is clearly holding back her laughter while Ava is more focused on getting the hell out. But Bob is laughing —boyish, timid, and dare she admit it, kind of cute. And she can’t help but laugh now too.

“Oh, god. He’s got such a point. God bless you, Bob, thank you so much for seeing things clearly,” she agrees, putting a hand on Bob’s shoulder. “Walker’s literally the worst.”

There’s a moment. The room shifts, like how it shifts when she uses her powers. But it’s darker, and she’s familiar with her room she’s standing in. It doesn’t last though. As she’s trying to figure out where she is, it shifts back.

And suddenly she’s back in the vault, hand on his shoulder, and everyone staring at her like she’s lost her goddamn mind. Maybe she has, because she’s worried she’s accidentally lost control. And that’s never happened before. She’s usually in far more control —but she chalks it up to anxiety and shakes herself out of it. She didn’t mean to do it; it wasn’t on purpose. Bob does seem a bit put out by it though; blue eyes wide as he stares at her like he’s done something wrong.

“Sorry, I —,” he starts, but an alarm goes off, interrupting her thoughts and she drops her hand from Bob’s shoulder.

“We need to get out of here,” Yelena states, pointing to the clock on the wall. “We find the console that controls the barrier, Ava can get through and open it from the other side. Once we’re out, we split up, we find an exit. Walker, keep assistant girl and Bob alive.”

There’s arguing, and their thoughts are getting louder as she’s finally coming into focus again. She wants to argue and remind them what her name is but it seems redundant at this point, given she’s probably going to die.

Oh. Oh god. She’s actually going to die. She’s actually enough of a liability that someone wants her dead and she’s going to die in a vault underground, with a bunch of assholes and some guy named Bob. Her hand grabbed at her chest, trying to ease that panic as she fell against another crate, sitting down and breathing hard.

“I’m going to die because I’m too good at my job,” she mumbles to herself. “God, what the fuck?”

“You’re not going to die,” Walker insists as Yelena shouts out in discovery. Walker turns his attention to the Russian, hurrying over to smash the controls in with his shield.

“We might die,” Bob offers, as if that was reassuring. He sits beside her, hands in his lap as he picks at the skin around his nails. “It’s fine, I think.”

Another yell of triumph and they both watch as Ava phased through the walls, finding an escape. If she wasn’t so scared of death, she would have been wholly impressed. Bob patted her shoulder awkwardly —though she pulled away.

“Don’t —I don’t want to accidentally make you see my thoughts,” she explains, frowning deeply as he drops his hand. “I appreciate the thought, Bob. I just —I don’t want to freak you out.”

“Oh,” though he doesn’t really seem to understand what she means.

“Come on!” Walker suddenly screams, hitting the door. “Where the hell is she!”

The two civilians stand, moving to stand behind Yelena and Walker. The timer is counting down and the thoughts around her are…alarmingly accepting of their fates. Walker and Yelena both seem to be totally fine if this is where the line ends for them. And Bob…well, his thoughts are still fragmented and confusing, but he seems just as willing to die down here as the other two.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, covering her eyes. “You’re all suicide risks.”

#robert reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x reader #sentry x reader #robert reynolds #bob thunderbolts #thunderbolts*#the new avengers

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dracosprettygirl · 3 days ago

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ღ spoiled

Pairing: theodore nott x reader Word Count: 1.8k words Summary: Theo was convinced you'd never look his way—until a Hogsmeade date leaves your heart bruised and angry. Now, Theo's done hiding his feelings... And ready to ruin every man who ever made you feel unworthy. Warnings: 18+; mdni; fem!reader; reader's hair is described to have waves; reader is explicitly referred to as a woman; swearing; fingering; sweet/dirty talking; praise; italian nicknames; female-centric nicknames (sweet girl; pretty girl); oral(f!receiving); dry humping if you squint; penetration; unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you get silly!); not proofread; let me know if i missed any! A/N: i saw this and thought of him. and ofc i had no choice but to write this.

♫ swim by chase atlantic.

Theodore Nott was absolutely convinced of two tings:

1. He was absolutely, irredeemably in love with you.

2. You didn’t feel the same.

It wasn’t your fault. He didn’t expect you to notice the way he turned every page in Potions book every time Slughorn asked a question, just to catch a glimpse of your approving smile when he got something right. Or how he’d always sit near you in the Common Room, hoping you'd accidentally lean into him again. Or that he kept chocolate-covered strawberries enchanted cold in his dorm because you once said they were your favorite.

But today?

Today was hell.

Because you were out in Hogsmeade. With Matteo Riddle.

Theo watched you go, wearing that pretty white sundress that drove him feral, cheeks flushed with cold and excitement. You'd smiled at Matteo—soft and uncertain—and Theo had nearly cursed a hole through the stone wall when the git offered you his arm.

Now, several hours later, the dungeons had gone quiet. Theo was seated in his usual chair by the fireplace, a book open in his lap, but his eyes kept reading and re-reading the same paragraph for nearly half an hour.

He felt you come in before he could even look up—the shift in the room, the weight of your presence like a familiar pull in his chest. He glanced up. Froze.

You looked… wrecked.

Not outwardly. Your hair was still pinned back in those perfect waves cascading down your back, your gloves still neat. But your eyes were glassy, your lips pulled into a tight line.

Something inside Theo cracked.

You didn’t even look at him when you passed. Not until you reached the couch and dropped onto it like your bones had given out.

He closed the book. “What happened?”

You blinked at the fire. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Theo sat forward, elbows on his knees. “If it upset you, then it matters.”

You hesitated. And then, as if some wall broke, you whispered, “He said I was spoiled.”

The words dropped like a dead weight between you.

Theo blinked. “Spoiled?”

You laughed, bitter and low. “Matteo said I expect too much. That I’m used to people giving me everything I want. Called me demanding.” You swallowed, suddenly small. “I didn’t think I was asking for much. I just thought he would open the door for me.”

Theo stood. Walked over slowly, then lowered himself to the rug in front of you, his long legs folding easily beneath him.

“He said that because you wanted him to treat you right?”

You didn’t answer, but your silence screamed yes.

Theo’s hands curled into fists against his thighs. “You’re not spoiled.”

You opened your mouth, but he cut you off.

“And even if you were—what the fuck is wrong with being treated like you matter?” His voice was sharp now, but not at you. “Wanting nice things, or softness, or someone to care doesn’t make you selfish. It makes you human.”

You stared down at him, something fragile in your expression.

“I like pretty things,” you murmured. “I like flowers, and thoughtful letters, and someone walking on the street-side of the pavement. That’s—”

“That’s not spoiled,” Theo said, voice low. “That’s you knowing your worth.”

A beat of silence. The fire crackled.

And then you said, very softly, “Why do you always say the right thing?”

His gaze locked with yours. “Because you deserve to hear it.”

Your breath hitched.

Theo reached up, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered just a little too long. Your skin felt like it might combust under his touch.

You leaned in. A little. Barely.

Theo swallowed hard.

“Opening doors for a woman—and especially a woman like you—it's a privilege. Matteo’s a fucking idiot if he doesn’t realize that,” he said, voice thick. “And if he doesn’t know how to spoil you…”

You raised a brow. “Yeah?”

His lips curled slowly. “Then let someone else try.”

Your heart stuttered. “Who?”

Theo didn’t answer. Not with words.

He just stood up, leaned forward, and kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was everything else — aching, gentle, reverent. Like he was memorizing your mouth with every slow brush of his lips. His hands settled on your waist, steadying you.

You sighed against him — and that was his undoing.

He deepened the kiss, one hand sliding up your back, the other cradling your jaw like you were made of silk. You tugged him down onto the couch with you, your legs parting instinctively to let him slot between.

And then the kiss turned hungry.

Theo pulled back just long enough to whisper, “Can I?”

You nodded.

He was on you in seconds, mouths hot and eager, hands tangled in fabric and hair. His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, sucking a mark just below your jaw.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured, teeth grazing your throat. “Let me take care of you.”

You gasped when his hand slipped over your legs, cool fingers dragging up your thighs. Your hips arched instinctively, grinding up against him.

Theo groaned. “Shit—don’t do that unless you want this to end fast.”

Your voice was a breathless whisper. “Then slow down.”

His eyes burned.

“You want to be spoiled?” he whispered, sliding your shirt fully over your head. “Let me spoil you, cara mia. Let me worship you”

You whimpered. Every brush of his fingertips made your nerves light up. He kissed the inside of your wrist, your brow bone, the top of your head.

“You deserve silk sheets and moonstone rings,” he murmured, voice like velvet. “Someone to remember your favorite tea and put warming charms on your slippers.”

Your breath hitched. “Theo—”

“And,” he added, crawling back up your body, his hands framing your face, “you deserve someone who makes you come so hard you forget your own name.”

The retort forming on your lips dissolves into a moan when Theo’s large hands wrap around your thighs. You could feel how hard he was through his trousers, feel the restraint trembling in his muscles as he held himself back.

“This infernal thing,” Theo whispered, his fingers working their way under the hem of your sundress, brushing your core. “You drive me insane every time I see you walking around in this tiny little thing.”

You whimpered, unable to form words as he begins to rub gentle circles over your clit through your panties.

“Say it, vita mia,” he breathed, eyes dark. “Say you want me.”

“I want you,” you said, hips arching into his touch. “Please, Theo—”

He groaned, kissing you like he’d been starving for years. “I love the way you say my name.”

He pushed your panties to the side—not all the way, just enough to give him access to your aching core. Theo liked the control, the knowledge that he had you right where he wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, lips grazing your collarbone, fingers toying with your clit. “Fuck, you have no idea.”

You gasped when he tugged the cups of your dress down, his mouth immediately descending on your breasts.

Your hips shifted, needy friction building, but Theo caught your movement.

“Patience, sweet girl,” he whispered. “And you shall be… rewarded.” He said, punctuating the last word with a slow thrust of one of his fingers into you.

“Fuck, cara mia,” he groaned, as he began to move his hand in and out of you, slow, gentle, teasing. “You’re so wet already. Is this all for me?”

You nodded breathlessly. “Please…”

Theo smiled like he’d just won a war. “That’s more like it.”

His hand pulled away from you, and he gripped your thighs, spreading them apart, settling on his knees in front of the couch before lowering his mouth to your core. The first pass of his tongue had you arching off the couch—slow, teasing, maddeningly thorough. Theo ate you out like he was starving, with long, lazy strokes, then focused on your clit, flicking and circling until your breath hitched and your hands flew to his hair, tugging.

“T-Theo—!”

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he muttered between licks. “Let me hear you.”

He slipped a finger back inside you—then another—curling them perfectly as he sucked your clit again. Your legs trembled, his hair soft between your fingers. Heat gathered in the pit of your stomach, coiling tighter and tighter, pressure threatening to snap.

“Theo I’m gonna—!”

Theo moaned against you, the vibration of it sending you over the edge. You cried out, back arched, thighs squeezing around his head as you came hard—stars behind your eyes, pulse thudding wildly.

When you opened your eyes again, Theo was staring down at you with pure reverence in his eyes, his pupils blown wide, hair a mess from your fingers.

“I could do that all night,” he muttered, leaning up to kiss your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “But right now, I need to be inside you.”

Your hands fumbled at his trousers as he shoved them down, revealing a length that had you clenching around air.

“You’re sure?” he asked, voice cracking with restraint as he settled between your thighs, lined up and ready but still holding back.

“I want you, Theo,” you whispered, dragging your pussy over his throbbing length in a way that had him letting out a shuddering breath in your ear. “Please.”

He didn’t make you ask twice. He pushed into you slowly, watching your face the whole time — the way your mouth parted, the breath you caught, the way you held onto him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned. “So fucking perfect.”

Once he was fully inside you, Theo pressed his forehead to yours, holding still as you adjusted. Then he started to move—slow, deep thrusts, each one angled just right, dragging moans from your lips with every roll of his hips.

The way he filled you—like he was made you—had you gasping his name.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he rasped, lips brushing yours. “I’m going to ruin you for anyone else.”

And he did.

He worshipped every inch of you—Theo sped up, pinning you wrists above your head with one hand, the other wrapped around your throat, holding you to his gaze as he fucked you harder; whispering praises against your skin like a man possessed. “That’s it, pretty girl. Take it all—good girl.”

When you came a second time, it hit you in waves—Theo coaxing you through it, his hips rolling against yours. “Shhh, baby, I know, I know. I’ve got you, cara mia. I’ve got you.”

And when he finally fell apart—your name on his lips, voice cracking, forehead pressed to yours—it was with a reverence that left no room for doubt.

You were his. And he had always been yours.

taglist !

@belovedenzo

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x slytherin!reader #matteo riddle x reader #matteo riddle x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter series #harry potter books #slytherin #slytherin!reader

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comicgeekery · 1 day ago

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I'm sorry to anyone who feels this way. It's awful.

But I also think it's wrong.

I try to not use the word talent in my life. Because 90% of the time what people describe as talent, an innate even destined ability, is actually skill, an ability that has been developed through practice and experience. And it's a super important distinction, because skill isn't up to genetics or god or some basic seed from which you sprouted. Skill is based in your choices and, essentially, your opportunities.

I don't want to turn this to the other extreme and say that you're not great at That Thing because you haven't tried hard enough. There are certainly many circumstances that can get in the way. Like money, like available time. Can you go to classes? Afford materials? Dedicate hours every week to practice and improvement?

And it's more than that even! Have you ever learned HOW you learn? Were you taught how to embrace failure? Because no matter what, you WILL fail at the thing you like a LOT on the path to getting good at it.

But I think the absolute most important element is, do you have people who support and believe in you? Not just for your interest of choice, but also in general.

OP strongly compares exceptional ability with fame. That makes sense. I know the kind of optimistic posts they're talking about with lists of celebrities who became famous later in life. But fame is a different game entirely. It's based in opportunity to the nth degree, on being attractive in a very specific way, and on having skill in one or two of just a handful of abilities. Sure, there's a fixation on singers, actors, and athletes, but how many people would know it if the world's greatest knitter walked on stage?

That wouldn't mean that the knitter wasn't incredible, just that there isn't an industry built around promoting them.

The celebrities in those posts are for a point of connection, as people you can recognize. But yeah, ANYONE can start again at any time. And to keep it mundane, I'll use myself.

I'm 36. I've spent the last few years rebuilding my life after living through many shitty things. I grew up in an abusive household. I was bullied a lot. I lost friends through death and through just being too much.

And now I've done SO MUCH therapy and work on myself. I find I have the strength to try new things. I've been taking local classes for fun; ballroom dance, juggling, and improv. I started a book club that just reads terrible books because I find that fun. I started ANOTHER club for doing escape rooms because I love those and they need about 4 people. I'm putting together a little business to help people with their writing.

This is a lot of stuff, but I chose it all one at a time. Some of these things may not particularly amount to anything. They certainly won't make me famous. But I get joy from the trying, from working with other people, and from having others who support and compliment my efforts.

So much of our self-esteem, for better or worse, is based in the love and attention of others. Is it really FAME you want? Screaming fans, paparazzi, and a billion strangers with some opinion on your work without knowing a thing about you? Or would you be overwhelmed with joy if a dozen people were proud of you?

I'm sorry you don't have enough love or encouragement or self-esteem right now. I hope that gets better for you as you live and build skills you need.

But most of all, I promise that it's never too late!

everyone says you can always restart. that your future isn't forgotten, just sort of misplaced. they name actors and singers and authors who started at 46, 59. they cite chappell roan's 10 years. they tell you to push and push, that some day you'll open a door and the truth will be behind it.

but what if you aren't a celebrity in sheep's clothing. what if you're just a normal person. most people aren't exceptionally talented or else talent wouldn't be exceptional - right? what if you're just another median person; not ever startlingly bad nor terrifyingly good.

you put the shopping carts back and you walk your dog and you write poems on the internet. you have grown a plant or two; killed a few others. you did okay, overall, and you've been okay most of your life. not valedictorian, but you were a smart kid. you had some hard knocks, but you got up again. your life is just - average. you probably will never sing onstage at coachella. most of the time you are at peace with that - someone needs to drive the speed limit. life isn't about extraordinary circumstances, it's just about building a life you love and figuring out how to live in it.

but you would like to feel as if you'd found "the answer." everyone else seems to have some kind of talent they are born nesting in - and meanwhile you just exist. is that why you cycle through crafts and hobbies and activities like a roulette wheel? are you waiting for the moment where it turns out - all this time, you've been a visionary. a genius. all this time, you were special. even you: someone who has-never-been.

crawling up your throat: something bitter and savage. not quite a feeling of wasted potential. after all, you need to first have potential in order to waste it.

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whatdoyouwanttocallmefor · 3 days ago

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𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗧𝗼𝗼 𝗖𝘂𝘁𝗲, 𝗜𝘁 𝗛𝘂𝗿𝘁𝘀 - 𝗝𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻 𝘅 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

Genre: Fluff, slice-of-life, soft romance

Warning: NO? IT JUST SO CUTE AND FLUFFY AND IM JUST BAHUWEDGWEGVDW bye ---

Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor of Jeongin’s dorm room, surrounded by snacks, plushies, and the quiet hum of his playlist in the background. It was one of their rare days off. no schedules, no alarms, no interruptions. Just peace, Jeongin’s hoodie wrapped around her like a cocoon, and the warm scent of his fabric softener lingering around her.

Jeongin watched her from the couch, chin resting in his hand, eyes slightly narrowed in what could only be described as a dangerously lovestruck daze. The sleeves of his oversized sweatshirt swallowed her hands completely as she tried to open a bag of chips with her teeth.

He nearly lost it.

“Yah…” he said suddenly, voice low and borderline threatening but not in a scary way. More like a warning to himself. “Stop being so cute.”

Y/N looked up, chips halfway to her mouth. “Huh?”

Jeongin dropped his head back with a groan and kicked his legs like a flustered puppy. “You don’t get it. You’re killing me right now. Literally, I’m in physical pain.”

She blinked. “...From what?”

He jumped off the couch, marched toward her with intent, and dropped to his knees in front of her. “From this! This level of cuteness is criminal, Y/N. I should call the police.”

“Jeongin, what are you talking about—”

“Look at you! My hoodie’s swallowing you, your face is all squishy, and you eat chips like a baby raccoon. I can't—” He grabbed a nearby plushie and screamed into it dramatically, then looked up at her with wild eyes.

“You know when things are so cute you wanna squish them? Or bite them a little? That’s how I feel about you 24/7!”

Y/N burst out laughing, cheeks tinted pink. “You sound like you’re losing your mind.”

“I am!” he whined, grabbing her by the arms and gently shaking her. “You're lucky I love you too much to actually bite you. But if you keep being this adorable, I might have to chomp your cheek. Just a little one. Like—nom!”

He made the biting gesture with his teeth, moving toward her playfully.

Y/N giggled, leaning back to avoid his silly “attack.” “Jeongin! No biting!”

“No promises!” he shouted, before tackling her into a gentle hug, rolling them onto the carpet. “This is your fault. You’re too cute and I’m suffering. I hope you’re happy.”

She smiled into his chest as he held her close, his fingers playfully poking her sides like he was trying to absorb the adorableness by osmosis.

After a while, he sighed, his voice suddenly softer. “You really don’t know how cute you are, do you?”

Y/N looked up at him, surprised by the shift in tone.

Jeongin brushed her hair back, eyes warm but still laced with a hint of that chaotic affection. “I could stare at you all day and still not get over it. It’s honestly kind of a problem. I want to keep you in my pocket.”

“You want to what?”

“You heard me,” he grinned. “Shrink you down. Pocket-sized Y/N. That way no one else gets to see you being this cute but me.”

“Jeongin…”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Don’t worry. I’d still give you crumbs and let you watch Netflix in there.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh again, heart swelling with affection. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you love me,” he teased.

“Unfortunately.”

Jeongin gasped and rolled away dramatically, hands over his heart like he’d been fatally wounded. “Cute and savage. I’m doomed.”

And even though he pretended to groan in agony, the goofy grin on his face never faded.

The next day he did bite you at your cheeks :) (He can't help himself)

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clairewritesfanfics · 2 days ago

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A-Z Fluff Alphabet: Mohawk Mark Grayson

Author's note: The alphabet here is an amalgamation of fluff templates from the following writers: @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy, @snk-warrior, @queervibesmydude and @imagineimagineimagine, and my own personal additions.

Adoration: What does he can’t help but gush about you?

Your brain. Your intellectual curiosity and passion for discussing various concepts, regardless of which field they originate; be it writing an essay about a random video game’s exploration of identity and the Ship of Theseus, drawing out an outline for the evolution of meme culture across generations, or borderline obsessive studying of his own alien physiology. The way your eyes light up and how confident you sound get him excited.

Baby: Does he want a family?

No. You are his family, the only one he will ever need.

Comfort: How does he help you when you’re down or stressed?

He tries to joke, hoping it would help you laugh and release some of the anxiety frying your nerves. But if that doesn’t work, he will seat you on the nearest counter and make you look at him. He’ll ask what’s wrong and when you don’t tell him he will kiss you until you feel better.

Dates: What are his ideal dates?

He likes taking you to concerts, can be anything as long as both of you enjoy it, from rock bands to Opera. Alternatively, he would surprise you with tickets to a museum involving your most recent hyperfixation. You two would hold hands and talk while you pass each display. He also flies you to different parts of the world at a moment's notice; "Oh, you suddenly want to collect volcanic rocks? I got you, babe."

Everything: You are his __________.

You are his inspiration, his muse. Your passions are his passions, not for some shallow reason like getting you to like him (he has his good looks and nice ass for that), but because your sincere drive to know more, to explore the world beyond what it is, encourages him to seek for more, too.

Fight: How often do you argue? How does he handle the fight itself and its aftermath?

“Me and my girl don’t argue, she tells me to shut up and I do” kind of guy. But in all seriousness, he doesn’t like upsetting you, so unless it’s something serious, like your health, then he just goes along with what you want.

Gifts: Does he spoil you?

I discussed this before in my husband headcanons for him, but he doesn’t actively seek out to buy you presents as often as one would think. It’s just that, when he sees something in a store window or on his phone that reminds him of you, without thinking, he buys it.

Honesty: Does he keep a lot of secrets from you? Are they white lies or hide world-shattering truths?

He tends to hide his negative feelings, covering them up because he would rather push down all the bad than bother you with it. Otherwise, he’s an open book. You already know the password to all his accounts and he registered your fingerprint on his phone.

Injury: What’s his reaction when he finds you physically hurt?

Tries to alleviate the gravity of the situation with jokes as a way to keep you calm. Actually, if we’re being honest, the bad jokes are to keep his composure while he assesses your injuries and starts planning a murder.

Jealousy: Is he a green-eyed monster?

He can be prone to jealous fits, but they’re rarely that deep and never last long enough to warrant violent responses. That being said, the one thing that can really grate him is when someone else manages to have you ramble about your most recent hyperfixation–only he gets the privilege of listening to your spiel.

Kiss: Describe the way he kisses you.

Lifts you up on kitchen counters, stands between your knees and has his hands over your thighs. Kisses you playfully.

Longing: Who fell first? How did you two get together?

He is a natural flirt, so you didn’t take him seriously at first. “That’s just how he is with everyone,” you used to say. Mark didn’t realize it himself, but he stopped hitting on others and unconsciously focused on you every time you were near. When he finally had that "oh shit" moment, he immediately tried to convince you that he wanted you.

Marriage: Does he want to be your husband?

Originally, no. He used to believe that marriages were pointless in that they were “merely labels” and if two individuals truly love each other then a piece of paper was meaningless. You then countered that if it was meaningless then it shouldn’t matter if he agreed to marry you. To this day, it was still his favorite loss.

Nightmare: What is his greatest fear?

That one day you would lose your wide-eyed curiosity.

On Cloud Nine: Is it obvious to tell when he is happy?

He’s already a pretty chill guy, but his underlings know he’s in a really good mood when he isn’t mocking everyone he comes across, and they all know it’s because of you.

PDA: Yes or no? If yes, to what degree?

Yes. He isn’t opposed to giving you a peck or having his arm around your shoulders while you’re out on a date, but he’s not going to make out with you in a park or a family restaurant.

Quaint: What is his favourite non-modern thing?

Ink and paper books.

Rhythm: What’s his favorite song or genre of music?

Doesn’t have one. His rule is that if he hears a beat that he likes then he likes it. He’s an open-minded guy, so you would be hard-pressed to find him disliking anything. He’s no poser.

Spa: What helps him relax?

Lying with you, on a bed or a couch or a picnic blanket, while he reads, shutting you up with kisses when you laugh at the stupid lines.

Tea: What do you two often converse about?

Everything under the sun. The beauty of your relationship is that you two don’t feel restricted about the topics of your conversation, you’re not afraid of sharing your thoughts about the most niche topic and he knows you can keep up with his interests. Each of you has something to offer and nothing is off the table.

Understanding: How well does he know you?

Enough to know what kinds of books you would definitely fall into obsession with.

Value: How important is the relationship to him?

So much so that if he ever lost you, he would try to erase every trace of you, because if he didn’t how else was he supposed to breathe? He would turn to violence and parties and meaningless one night stands to forget about you, even if just for a moment. He wouldn’t be able to stand anyone who looks like you, so every single one of his flings would be the opposite of what you looked like.

Wild Card: Random fluff headcanon

He’s a philosophy nerd. When he was younger he was interested in ethics, but right now, he’s really into existentialism and absurdism. He also dabbles in poetry.

XOXO: How affectionate is he?

Super affectionate. He is never afraid to tell you and show you how much he adores you.

Yearning: How does he cope when you two are apart?

Mark always preferred the epicureans, but you’re more of a stoic, and stoics believe that patience is a virtue, so he bites his tongue when you tell him that no, he can’t come with you to girls’ night. He distracts himself by reading so that he can complain to you about the garbage he had to read while you were away.

Zebra: If he wanted a pet, what would he get?

He wouldn’t call them pets, more like decoration, but he would like a whole bloom of Turritopsis dohrnii, a species of jellyfish. One of his favorite dates with you was scuba diving somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea, and that was where you first saw one in person. “It’s functionally immortal,” you said when you two resurfaced. He hopes that, like this jellyfish, your time together will be everlasting.

I'm thinking of taking requests again (last time I did it was for MHA back during The Plague, LOL), but until I sort out my rules, you guys can ask for Mark Grayson (and his variants) fluff for now. Also, I must say, after seeing that post about semicolons, I found myself using them a in my recent fics. Subliminal messaging at its finest LOLOLOL

#reader #y/n #imagines #invincible #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #fluff #fluff alphabet #alphabet #a-z #mohawk invincible #mohawk invincible x reader #mohawk mark grayson #afab reader #yn #invincible variants #invincible x reader #headcanons

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parkers-gal · 12 hours ago

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this is the most random bucky drabble help ,,, imagine making him so flustered though

mature content below — bucky barnes x f!reader (established relationship), talks of nipples

⋆˚✶˚‧⋆｡˚

"are my nipples pink or brown?"

bucky chokes on his coffee, sputtering into the mug.

"what?"

you barely pay attention to him, pulling your shirt away from your chest to peer down better.

"i feel like there's no color to accurately describe my nipples."

unluckily, sam had just walked in as you said this.

"what the fuck?"

"sugar," bucky reaches his right hand out to touch your arm. "what are you on about?"

pouting, your eyes lock onto his, ignoring the other person in the room.

"do you not like my nipples?"

"sugar, i-"

"i need to bleach my ears."

still ignoring sam, you grunt softly. "i don't know if i have porn-worthy nipples."

bucky's jaw drops open, barely processing how to respond to that. porn worthy? he wants to laugh but he's not sure if you're seriously upset about this or not.

"barnes, what did you do to her?"

"nothing!"

"then why is she blabbering about- about... her nipples!"

"i don't know!"

each of bucky's replies is immediate, showing his mirrored confusion about the interaction. he turns his body towards you.

"sugar, are you okay?"

you offer a shrug, letting go of your shirt and picking up your mug of coffee again.

"when you look at someone's boobs, do you look straight at the nipple? like is that the first thing you look at? or do you look at everything except the nipple?"

sam and bucky exchange a glance.

"i don't look at people's nippl-"

"the nipple." sam declares.

bucky gives him a look as if to say really? you're feeding into this?

"it's a valid question!"

"it's an insane question!" he shoots back.

"do you look at the color of them, then?" you look at sam this time. "if you look at the nipple first?"

his mouth opens and then shuts, not finding the words to respond with. he dismisses the two of you with a lazy hand gesture, grabbing a granola bar and sliding out of the kitchen.

sighing, you turn back to bucky. "what about you?"

"well i don't... i don't know, peaches. i don't look at a lot of... nipples."

you nod disappointedly.

"but i love your nipples, sugar." he nudges your side with his elbow. "they're the perfect color and the perfect shape and they're the only nipples i ever wanna look at for the rest of my life."

"porn worth?"

blinking, he tries to smile reassuringly. "even porn worthy." you smile. "even if porn is brainrot."

you gasp. "who taught you brainrot?!"

his expression is sheepish.

"peter?! sam?!"

oh well.

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king-of-men · 2 days ago

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So I didn't say a word about unions, and am less anti-union than the average American libertarian because it is actually possible to do unions Correctly, it's just the US that insists on implementing them as authorized cartels with guild privileges. But ok, how do you in fact propose to have unions prevent people working without compensation in the presence of positive rights?

Please observe that I did not say anything about slippery slopes. I say that when you confiscate the product of someone's work, that's the slavery right there, no slopes involved. Would you like to explain how you provide healthcare (or whatever service) without either having the recipient pay, or taxing someone else to do so? And the first is of course not what you're talking about, that's not the sort of "right to healthcare" you want. So, how is the union going to stop you from taxing the members to fund their free healthcare? And how is that not forcing them to work more than they want to, without compensation, for the benefit of someone else? You'll observe that I'm avoiding the emotive term 'slavery' this time around, and attempting to describe in neutral words the thing I object to.

For me this isn't even about empathy or sympathy (though there's value in those as well), it is just straight-up a human rights thing. Once you have decided that there is *any* category of human that can be treated as less-than-human you've said that humanity is conditional, and so are the rights that come with it. You've already lost, you've granted the fascists their point because *you agree with them* that some people don't deserve to be treated like humans.

#economics #politics #going to try this one more time since there was an actual argument in there even if unpleasantly expressed #libertarianism

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cextile · 18 hours ago

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what about you attracts people?

one → two → three

how to read this pick a pile tarot reading ♡ the images above are your pick-a-pile options — see which image immediately pulls you in. If nothing stands out right away, take a moment to look at each pile/image. the one your attentions keeps coming back to is likely your pick. If more than one pile calls to you, trust that too. You can read both and take what resonates. And hey, if none of them feel like a match, no big deal. Not every reading is meant for right now. Come back another time — this reading isn’t going anywhere.

pile one

very whimsical vibes.. plus you're very aware of your responsibility towards nature, towards the environment. you may be an animal lover.

I think I need to talk about your past a little bit. did you like to escape to your head pile 1? you used to try to cling onto your childhood self, trying to hold onto that innocence amidst a harsh reality that demands you to cope and keep up. some of you might have dealt with insane self-sabotage from addiction possibly.

HOWEVERR, there's been a massive shift. you're not just surviving — you’re thriving. you’ve taken the challenges and turned them into stepping stones, and now you’re moving toward new beginnings.

If i would have to describe you, you would've been a stagnant pond, but you guys are just so free flowing now?! like a gentle, rapidly moving river... striving and working hard.. for tommorrow, yk!?

you may not realise this, but that is INSANELY attractive. no kidding.

they want to help, they want to stand by you as you do the things you do. this ethic of yours just so goddamn sexy, they've seen how much you've improved, how much you have transistioned, carbon to diamond story.

you show affection towards others by providing for them, working for them. you define yourself to others through your resilience, your passion, your practicality, and your growth. it's an inspiring journey for those who watch you evolve.

all your vibes are just so <3

pile two

hey guys let me tell you, your aura of abundance literally speaks.

you just give off very opulent vibes...

for you guys also, I'm getting you guys also similar to pile one have been really contradictory to what you were and what you are right now. it's crazy like also like you might have had issues like you might have had a lack mindset in the past but you guys right now just scream abundance...... kudos

You guys are very grounded, very generous, very loyal, prosperous.

you are the IT person. You guys are extremely secure in your sense of identity. Also, you give off this nurturing energy.

that's the reason why people attracted. like how do I say this, you guys just give off thewizardliz energyy yk!!?

also i have to say more opportunities are coming to you. people are going to approach you because of the energy you give off.. they want association with you. but um i need to give a heads up because i'm seeing deceit. there might be people who see the shine and want to take advantage of it, so just be careful...

pile three

the cards literally went rogue for this pile. they were legit jumping out everywhere lmfaoo.

the vibes you guys give off, is like those fiery bubbles in boiling water hahaha. socially, you are like bright flames, open to experiences. You guys are the kind of people who are out there, and the people you interact with are consumed with your fiery energy yk? like you consume people with your personality.

You guys are very confident, very out there you guys are. I am seeing you did deal with a lot of isolation before & have dealt with many people lessons,, so kudos honestly for you to step up and just be so out there and just be lovely people.

people are attracted to you like moths to a flame.

You guys have very firm boundaries though. like you give people a lot of grace, but you finally withdraw when you see that they’re not just harmful to you — they are dangerous to your people too. so yeahh the moment those fucks start acting out with others? you are GONE.

and you do that so effortlessly... I am getting a scene that the people you cut off are just going to be observing you from a distance, and you'll just being your usual radiant self, smiling and talking with others and not giving a single fuck. no because something about that is rlly attractive too haha.

ooof to conclude you guys just have a very sexy (state of mind) & warm energy around here. I feel instinctively pulled to tell you some of you guys to practice some exercises for grounding yourself tho. keep a balance.

that's it for this reading. this was my first pick-a-pile ever! I really hope you enjoyed.

let me know how accurate this was

with love,

Ananya.

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transmutationisms · 2 days ago

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hi! you posted recently about conceiving of your transness as a series of decisions about how you move through the world leading it to be more appropriate to be labeled "man." [paraphrasing and not trying to imply anything tonally!] i was wondering if you've always conceived of your transness this way, or if there was a moment where the decisions model seemed more appropriate to you? I ask because the discovery-of-a-true-self model is so prevalent and im wondering how you were able to divorce yourself from it

easy answer -> i had practice at this first thinking thru it wrt sexual orientation. i spent a long time as a tween tormenting myself about discovering my True Deep Down feelings & desires & it got me nowhere & then i had gay sex & planned to continue doing it & thought oh well i guess it's a bit miscommunicative to call myself straight at this point. actually, talking about sexuality outside the born this way, deep down inner self model is one of the first things i widely pissed this website off about way back in the day as a 17 y/o on my first account lol

harder answer -> i don't put stock in the idea of a true self or deeper self or unified self at all, i think these are basically fictions that have varying heuristic value in daily life but they mean nothing to me in terms of any discovery process or internal narrativisation of my life. i don't make decisions based on language boxes that i fit into, i make decisions i want to make & then accede to approximating the significance of those decisions via language when i need to convey information to people who aren't me. transness & transition are just continuous w that, & frankly if i had been thinking of gender as something philosophically prior that i had to discover within myself then i'm confident i would not have transitioned at all. it's not a useful framework to me. what started me on [what i now describe as] transition was literally just making a decision about one specific surgery & then thinking hm yeah actually once i eliminate that source of discomfort there are also other things i might want to change about my life & appearance.

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astrologydray · 2 days ago

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When your Sun sign matches your Moon sign 🌞🌚

When your Sun sign matches your Moon sign, your core identity (Sun) and emotional self (Moon) are in sync. That means who you are publicly and who you are in private feel like one voice, one vibe, one frequency. You’re emotionally consistent, and while that can make you powerful and self-aware, it can also amplify your blind spots or emotional patterns. It’s like turning the volume all the way up on your Sun sign

——Aries Sun & Aries Moon——

You’re a wildfire in human form. With both your Sun and Moon in Aries, your identity and your emotional world are fiery, instinctive, and fiercely independent. You don’t just act on impulse — your feelings are impulsive. When you’re excited, you light up like a match. When you’re angry, it’s volcanic. But the blessing here is how honest you are about it. There’s no emotional confusion with you — what you feel is what you do, and you rarely suppress it. You’re bold inside and out.

However, this can create a kind of emotional impatience. You want what you want now, and you may struggle with delayed gratification or sitting still in discomfort. You might get bored in relationships that don’t keep your fire lit. But when you find healthy ways to channel your energy — through leadership, movement, competition, or passion projects — you become a powerhouse of courage. You were born to initiate, to inspire, and to lead by example. People watch you because you remind them how to feel alive.

—Taurus Sun & Taurus Moon—

You are the living embodiment of grounded grace. Taurus Sun and Moon together create a person who is steady, sensual, and built for the long game. Your identity and emotions both prioritize comfort, consistency, and security. You’re emotionally slow to warm, but once you’re in — with a person, a job, a routine — you’re all in. People trust you because your vibe is calm and your reactions are measured. There’s something ancient and wise about the way you move — like you’ve been here before and learned that rushing ruins everything.

But your double Taurus nature can also make you emotionally stubborn. You may avoid change to the point of stagnation, or hold onto relationships and habits that no longer serve you because they feel “safe.” The lesson here is to learn how to let go with grace and trust the unknown. When you do, your emotional world becomes a sanctuary — not just for yourself, but for everyone around you. You make people feel like they’re wrapped in velvet and fed honey. Your love is slow-cooked, your energy is sacred, and your presence is a luxury.

—Gemini Sun & Gemini Moon—

With this combo, your mind and heart are both ruled by Mercury — and baby, you never stop thinking. You process life through observation, conversation, and constant analysis. Your personality is lively, witty, curious, and fast-moving. And emotionally? Same. You intellectualize your feelings, often talking about them before you even feel them fully. You’re emotionally adaptable, and while that makes you versatile and fun, it can also make it hard to slow down and sit in one emotion long enough to process it deeply.

This combo gives you a brilliant inner world — you’re the type of person who can self-soothe through journaling, texting a bestie, or finding the perfect meme to describe your mood. But there’s a tendency to detach when emotions get too raw or messy. The challenge here is to balance thought with feeling — to remember that some things are meant to be felt, not fixed. When you do that, you become a storyteller of the soul. Your gift is the ability to name emotions that others can’t — and to turn chaos into clarity with your words.

—Cancer Sun & Cancer Moon—

Double Cancer? That’s full ocean energy. You feel everything deeply, and your emotions aren’t just a part of your experience — they are your experience. You’re ruled by the Moon twice, which means your identity and your emotional body flow in rhythm with lunar cycles, intuition, and memory. You’re nurturing, protective, and deeply influenced by your home, family, and personal history. People feel safe around you, but you’re also incredibly private — soft on the inside, guarded on the outside.

This combo gives you emotional intelligence that’s beyond your years, but it can also make you moody, nostalgic, or prone to emotional hoarding. You may replay the past like a movie you can’t turn off, or retreat into your shell when you feel overwhelmed. But when you learn to let the waves move through you instead of drowning in them, you become a force of emotional healing. You’re not weak for feeling deeply — you’re powerful because of it. Your emotions are your compass, your creativity, and your connection to the divine.

——Leo Sun & Leo Moon——

Double Leo? Baby, you were born to shine. With your ego and emotions both ruled by the Sun, there’s a powerful fusion of self-love, creative fire, and heart-led living. You feel most alive when you’re being seen, loved, and appreciated — not because you’re needy, but because your emotional world thrives on connection and expression. You need an audience, whether it’s one person who truly gets you or a whole community cheering you on. Your joy is radiant, and when you’re lit up, you light up everyone around you.

But double Leo also means you feel pride and ego bruises deeply. You may struggle with rejection, taking things personally, or needing external validation to feel emotionally secure. The journey here is about learning how to affirm yourself when no one’s clapping. When you do, your love becomes legendary. You’re a fierce protector, a loyal friend, and a passionate romantic. Your emotional world runs on loyalty and self-expression — and when your heart is open, it’s majestic.

——Virgo Sun & Virgo Moon——

You’re detail-oriented in your identity and in your emotional processing. With Virgo ruling both your Sun and Moon, your life is about making sense of things — organizing, fixing, improving. You’re the friend who remembers birthdays, reads the fine print, and brings snacks just in case. Internally, you find peace through logic, rituals, and acts of service. You feel most emotionally secure when things are in order, and your emotions are often filtered through analysis before you let them surface.

But the challenge with this combo is overthinking. You can be your own harshest critic — emotionally and otherwise. You might intellectualize feelings that need tenderness, or repress them altogether because they don’t make “sense.” The lesson is learning to let yourself be messy sometimes. Emotions aren’t always tidy — but that doesn’t mean they’re wrong. When you combine your natural discernment with self-compassion, you become someone who can gently hold space for growth, healing, and precision. You’re not just here to serve — you’re here to restore.

——Libra Sun & Libra Moon——

Double Libra gives you an energy that’s refined, relational, and so self-aware. With your Sun and Moon both ruled by Venus, you move through life craving balance, beauty, and deep connection. You’re emotionally attuned to the vibes around you, and your peace often depends on the peace of your environment. You don’t just want harmony — you need it to feel safe. You process emotions through reflection, often seeing both sides of everything (and everyone), which makes you a natural diplomat, mediator, and romantic idealist.

But double Libra also comes with the emotional pressure to “keep it pretty.” You might avoid conflict or suppress your true feelings to maintain peace, even if it means betraying your own needs. You’re so tuned into others that your biggest growth comes from tuning back into yourself. You’re not here to be agreeable — you’re here to create relationships where your truth can breathe. When you embrace the messiness behind the beauty, your emotional world becomes more than balanced — it becomes real. And that’s where your power lives.

—Scorpio Sun & Scorpio Moon—

Whew. Double Scorpio is like being born with X-ray vision of the soul. You feel things to the bone, but you rarely let the world know just how deep the well runs. You live behind emotional armor — not because you’re cold, but because your feelings are sacred. This combo gives you volcanic emotional intensity paired with a magnetic, mysterious outer presence. People are drawn to you without knowing why, and you can read a room in seconds. Your instincts? Razor sharp. You just know things.

But your emotional landscape can feel like a storm you’ve learned to weather alone. You don’t trust easily, and vulnerability can feel like exposure. You often operate on an “all or nothing” frequency — and if someone betrays you once, you might shut the door forever. Your power lies in alchemizing those wounds. When you stop fearing emotional death and start embracing emotional rebirth, your inner world becomes a phoenix rising. You don’t just survive your feelings — you transform through them. That’s your gift, and it’s sacred.

—Sagittarius Sun & Sagittarius Moon—

You were born to roam — physically, mentally, spiritually. With your Sun and Moon in Sagittarius, your entire being seeks freedom, meaning, and more. You feel your emotions in bold colors, not pastels — joy feels like fireworks, sadness feels like exile. But even in hard times, you bounce back with humor, hope, and a big-picture perspective that others envy. Your optimism is real — not naive, but spiritually built. You trust that life will take you where you need to go, and your emotions crave adventure and expansion as much as your mind does.

The struggle with this combo? Emotional restlessness. You may run from feelings that feel too confining, or chase the next thrill to avoid sitting still. You process life through beliefs, which means if something doesn’t make sense, it’s hard to accept emotionally. But when you stop looking for escape and start digging into your emotional philosophy, you gain a wisdom that’s legendary. You’re not here to live a small, emotionally safe life. You’re here to live wide, wild, and truthfully — feelings and all.

—Capricorn Sun & Capricorn Moon—

This combo is like emotional steel wrapped in velvet. With both your Sun and Moon in Capricorn, you were born with a deep sense of responsibility — to your goals, your people, and your self-control. You don’t do drama. Your emotional world is disciplined, often hidden behind a composed exterior. People might think you’re cold or hard to read, but that’s because you were taught (consciously or not) that vulnerability can be dangerous. Your feelings are real, but they don’t always get a seat at the table — unless they’re useful.

This can make you incredibly emotionally resilient — but it can also isolate you. You may feel safest when you’re in control, but growth for you comes from learning to let yourself fall apart and still be worthy. You’re not weak for needing rest, softness, or care. When you allow your emotions to show without guilt, you give yourself permission to be fully human — not just productive. You weren’t born just to build an empire. You’re here to learn that emotional strength is about trust, not just toughness.

—Aquarius Sun & Aquarius Moon—

Double Aquarius gives you a heart that beats to the rhythm of the future. You’re ruled by Uranus, which means your Sun and Moon are both plugged into innovation, rebellion, and the desire to break free from the ordinary. Emotionally, you crave understanding, not chaos. You need space to process things from a logical lens — you’re not cold, you’re just wired to think before you feel. You often find comfort in being the observer rather than the participant, especially when emotions get overwhelming or confusing.

But this combo can lead to emotional detachment or avoidance. You may rationalize your way out of vulnerability, or struggle to connect with people who lead with feeling over thought. The real magic happens when you realize you don’t have to choose between intellect and intimacy. When you allow yourself to be seen — eccentricities, contradictions, and all — you become a beacon for others who feel like outsiders, too. Your emotional uniqueness isn’t a glitch. It’s your gift. And when you let people into your inner world, you become a revolutionary with a heart.

—Pisces Sun & Pisces Moon—

Double Pisces is like living in a watercolor dreamscape — you feel everything, absorb everyone, and exist in a world just slightly softer and deeper than the one others live in. Your Sun and Moon ruled by Neptune make you an emotional mystic — spiritual, creative, and deeply compassionate. Your intuition is your GPS, and you can feel someone’s vibe before they even speak. Your emotional life is fluid, poetic, and sometimes overwhelming — like you’re a vessel for feelings that aren’t even yours.

This can be both magical and exhausting. With this combo, boundaries are your biggest karmic lesson. You may lose yourself in relationships, soak up other people’s pain, or retreat into fantasy to avoid emotional heaviness. But when you learn to ground your sensitivity — through art, healing work, spirituality, or simply saying no — you unlock your full potential. You’re not here to escape the world. You’re here to enchant it. Your emotions are oceanic — and when you own that power, you become the dream that teaches others how to feel again.

#astro notes #astrology #birth chart #astro observations #astro community #astrology observations #astrology community #astrology degrees #astro #astroblr #astrology content #astrology aspects #astrology insights #astrologyposts #sun sign #moon sign

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crownbeed · 2 hours ago

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I didnt go much into it but what you are describing was what I meant by finding something 'gross & icky' or 'needles are gross' etc.

because I do think there should be more education on common medical devices!! and how they work!!! but realistically...there are ways now to find out about them and forcing that education on people probably wouldn't lead to the ones who are out here being rude af to be less rude about it.

but I still think there is nuance to be found in the terminology of the word horror - like...if we're talking about horror movies and other media that's a whole other can of worms. so if that's where you are coming from just know it's not where I am coming from and perhaps we're talking about 2 different things lol

for me, I'm in my mid 30s and I've already experienced some harsh changes to how I can function. and seen loved ones fall to illnesses they could not prevent or treat. the amount of dementia in my life is a horror all on its own. terrifies me. if I think too hard about the things that *can* happen I can get quite anxious. I think the transitional period frightens me more. between 'I dont have X' to 'I live with X'. the change *shudders*

but on the other hand, while I am horrified by having (developing?) dementia I am not horrified by /people/ with dementia....perhaps that is the difference.

I'm sleepy

sometimes you people will be calling things "Body Horror" when it's just how some people live

#also i dont think i am disabled bc of the ibs.........though i might be tbh. not sure how i would work around a job with all of that #none of my disabilities are overt or overtly physical. main ones are autism and fibromyalgia #actually its probably the autism preventing me from completely seeing your point of view.#im not grossed out bt medocal procedures and the like. i studied in ther veterinary medical field and it really like #took away a lot of mystery of the whole thing #my partner is also in the medical field #so im not really around ppp being horrified by insulin pumps & colostomy bags #i actually...have gotten videos of those on my feeds? esp insulin pumps for some reason #but i also get a lot of videos of baseball and i hate spOrt with all my heart #im very tired. i should shut up

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sugardollcurse · 2 days ago

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Hiii !!!! I love your hcs sooo could you maybe do how the boys would show you a song they've written about you ? :3

𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

꒰ pairing ꒱ paul mccartney x reader, john lennon x reader, george harrison x reader, ringo starr x reader

꒰ note ꒱ hi!! love!! thank you so much!! this idea is so cute and just perfect... they were all sensitive and passionate in their own ways when it came to songwriting hehe

꒰ JOHN ꒱

“It’s nothin’, just a little tune. You’ll like it. I know you will.”

John is cocky about it in theory.

He talks a big game for hours beforehand.

But when it comes time to actually show you, he gets… weird.

He makes you sit on the sofa, then paces around the room, guitar in hand, trying to find the least awkward way to start.

“It’s not finished, right?"

(It is finished. He’s been tweaking it for weeks.)

Then, he starts playing. And every word is so undeniably about you. Not subtle at all.

It’s got little things only you two know about.

He sings with this tight-lipped grin like he’s trying not to look too pleased with himself.

When it’s over, he barely looks at you. “Well? S’alright, innit?”

But he does sneak a glance from the corner of his eye, and the moment you smile, that’s when he breaks.

“Knew you’d like it,” he says, grinning wide now.

“Catchy, right? Might put it on the next record. Whole world’s gonna know how much I fancy you.”

꒰ PAUL ꒱

“Close your eyes, love, I want you to hear it like the world would.”

Paul adores writing for you.

You inspire him constantly!

Little melodies, turns of phrase, half-songs humming in his head while you wash the dishes or laugh at his awful jokes.

He’s very showy when he reveals it.

He dims the lights.

Sets the mood.

He's very dramatic.

Sits at the piano and gives you a wink.

“Right then, this one’s got you all over it.”

He watches your face the entire time, waiting for your reaction.

“You like it?” he asks, breathless, still playing the last chord.

You nod, stunned.

He leans over, resting his forehead against yours. “Good. ‘Cause I meant every bit of it.”

꒰ GEORGE ꒱

“It’s... just something I had floating around. Don’t laugh, alright?”

George doesn’t say much when he gives it to you.

He’s a bit shy about it, quietly earnest, his heart hidden in metaphors and strings.

He acts like it’s nothing:

“Just a little idea. Doesn’t even have a proper bridge yet.”

But when he starts to play it, soft fingerpicking, gentle vocals, it’s obvious it’s about you.

In the way he describes warmth, peace, belonging. I

t’s not flashy. It’s real!!

He doesn’t name you, but he doesn’t need to.

It’s in every note.

When it’s over, he just kind of shrugs, eyes down.

“Could be better, I guess.”

You tell him it’s perfect.

He smiles.

Not big, just a quiet lift at the corner of his mouth.

꒰ RINGO ꒱

“It’s a bit silly, but it’s got you in it, so that makes it gold.”

Ringo’s song for you is adorable.

It’s bouncy, sweet, and full of little in-jokes no one else would catch.

He doesn’t make a big deal out of it.

The lyrics are so you, your weird habits, the way you snort when you laugh, how you always steal the covers.

And yet somehow it’s the cutest love song you’ve ever heard.

You’re laughing before it’s even halfway through.

“See?” he says proudly. “Told you it’d make you smile.”

It’s pretty much a scrapbook in melody.

Every detail says: I see you. I love all of it.

But when you hug him afterward, he goes all pink. “Y’really liked it, then?”

“You wrote me a song, Ringo.”

taglist: @sharksausages, @wavvytin, @wimpyvamps, @finallyforgotten, @lennongirlieee, @silly-lil-lee

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loulou-land · 3 hours ago

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Let Me Struggle, Carry That Weight (All Your Troubles, All Your Pain)

Bucktommy | 8x17 spoilers | post MCD | I don’t know what this is 🤷🏻‍♀️ prob a bit too on the nose but it wanted to be written (haven’t read it through so I’m sorry for any errors)

Buck can’t be here anymore.

The walls feel like they’re closing in on him. It doesn’t matter how much he’s tried to make this place feel like home—his personal touches scattered over every corner of it—it all feels hollow now, like he’s misplaced. An intruder. Tense silence hangs over the kitchen, the weight of it oppressive. Buck feels like he’s going to crawl out of his skin.

He just wants it all to stop.

The pain. The emptiness and numbness. Missing Bobby like a phantom limb he keeps trying to use.

And the thing is, he’s tried so hard to hold it together. Just like Bobby asked. He’s been there for everyone. The rock. The steady hand. Open ears and a shoulder to cry on. All while trying to smile, even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He doesn’t want to talk about his pain. That’s not important right now. He doesn’t need Eddie to tell him not to make it about himself—he knows. He didn’t think he was, but okay, he can fix that. But god, he just wants the ache in his heart to go quiet. Just for a minute.

Buck presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to stop the tears from coming. Because if they start, he’s not sure they’ll ever stop.

His breathing starts to stutter. And he knows what’s next. The spiral. The tightness in his chest. The panic that rides in on the back of his grief.

Before he can tip into it, he grabs his keys, rushes past the Eddie shaped lump on his couch, and slips past the door.

He doesn’t have a destination in mind. Just the cold sting of the night air on his cheeks, the rush of cars passing by and sounds of the city at night. He lets it all press against the static in his head until he realizes he’s stopped. Parked in a familiar driveway.

His grip tightens on the steering wheel. He sits in the silence until the porch light flicks on and Tommy steps out.

Buck’s breath escapes in a shaky rush.

He climbs out of the car like every move takes all his effort. As though every step cost him something. He walks toward Tommy like a man facing a firing squad.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, voice thick. “I didn’t know where else to go. I—”

But the words crumble inside his mouth. There’s no way to explain the hollowed-out ache in his chest. No way to describe the guilt eating him alive. The panic that weighs on him all the time. The grief trying to claw its way out of him.

But the thing is—he doesn’t need to. Tommy takes one look at him and knows. He understands.

Tommy’s never asked for more. Never demanded Buck explain the mess inside of him. He’s always taken him exactly as he is.

He just opens his arms. Opens his door wider, into his home. And Buck falls in.

He slumps into the warmth of Tommy’s arms, lets him take all his weight. Grateful. Trembling. But also, so ashamed.

He didn’t even make it a few weeks. He tried so hard to be strong. Tried to carry it all by himself. But here he is, breaking apart in Tommy’s arm, making it his problem.

“I—fuck,” Buck breaths into Tommy’s neck. “I’m sorry. I just—I miss Bobby.”

His voice cracks. It isn’t what he meant to say. He was just going to apologize, like always. But that’s the truest thing he’s said in weeks.

“Shhh,” Tommy murmurs, wrapping his arms tighter around him. “I know, sweetheart. I’ve got you.

Just that. Steady understanding and comfort. No judgement.

And Buck breaks.

His sobs come sharp and sudden, pulled from the pit of something deep and long ignored. He clings to Tommy like a lifeline, fingers clinging into the back of his shirt. No one’s held him like this in a while. Without taking pieces of him in return.

Tommy just holds him. Like he’s not a burden to carry.

And for the first time in weeks, he lets himself be comforted. The knowledge that this—Tommy—is a place where he can fall apart and not be left to sweep up the pieces all alone.

Eventually, his sobs taper off. He’s exhausted. Completely wrung out.

Tommy pulls back just enough to cup Buck’s cheek, catching his tears with his thumb. “Evan, you don’t ever have to be sorry for coming to me,” he says, voice low but sure. “And sure as hell not for needing someone. Not with me. Never with me.”

Buck looks into those endless blue eyes and believes it. He nods, eyes glassy, throat raw. “Okay

#911 spoilers #911 8x17 #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tw grief

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