#Life is an enigma and so am I | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

After the announcement of the deal with Yahoo!, there were 170K signatures of unhappy Tumblr users petitioning to prevent the sale in 2013.

#Life is an enigma and so am I

greendragonqueen · 3 months

Text

How to deal with your period pain and the spicy sadness:

Step 1: Buy supplies to make chainmail

Step 2: Turn on Markiplier or NileRed on the TV (optional extra steps, get blanket and salty popcorn)

Step 3: Fight the chains

Step 4: Achieve Greatness until you realize you bought out all the little links of the color you want at the local craft store of your choice

Repeat steps until you either lose a finger, create chainmail armor, or are no longer in pain.

Good luck!

#I know I should be working on my writing #But the spicy sadness said no #So I'm trying new hobbies to fight it off #Plus making chainmail turns my brain off #Which is cool #All the other hobbies I wanna learn how to do are either expensive or really space consuming (or both)#But chainmail making is really easy #Next I may learn how to make jewelry #Or raid my mom's sewing room and make a dress #I don't know #Life is an enigma and so am I

4 notes · View notes

flowersarefreetherapy · 8 days

Note

Who is John Laurens?

Oh my dear, dear Raccoon, you have just opened a can of worms that I am so excited to share with you!!! Um . . . this is my special interest, have fun its an essay!!

(content warning for discussions of race-based slavery in the Americas, childhood death, self-harm/suicidal ideations)

So John Laurens was born in South Carolina as the second oldest son of Congressman Henry Laurens, and was referred to as the oldest child after his three oldest siblings all died before he was six (only five of the Laurens children would survive into young adulthood). Henry Laurens was a co-founder of the South Carolina company that imported the most amount of enslaved people near the middle of the 18th century and his wife Eleanor was the daughter of another rich plantation owner, so John grew up in a life of luxury that was built off the sweat and blood of people who were denied rights.

(quick little note in here, when John was 12, Henry wrote to a friend saying how proud he was of John for focusing only on his studies and not being distracted by the local girls, like all the other boys were. It’s a beyond hilarious letter, given what happened in John’s later years)

When John was about 13-14, Henry took him and his two brothers to London so they could receive the best education possible, as education in the American colonies was not as good as what European education systems provided (if you were a white man only). After two years there, Henry returned to South Carolina to look after his daughters, as his wife passed and they were staying with relatives. This meant that John, at barely 16 years old, was taking care of his two younger brothers–Harry, who was about 14, and James (Jemmy) who was 10. John handled his responsibilities well, even if he did struggle a bit with managing money, but tragedy hit when his youngest brother Jemmy fell one winter, hit his head, and died in his sleep. It was one of the pivotal moments in John’s life that shaped how he treated younger men he met and pushed him to want to be the perfect son for his father.

John went into legal study instead of becoming a doctor out of that desire to be the perfect son. He studied for several years in Geneva and formed many close relationships with a few of his peers. We don’t have information on how far those relationships went, but we know he was involved in at least two during his years studying there. When he moved back to London, he ended up meeting a woman named Martha and getting her pregnant. Though they would get married, John would leave for the American colonies months later, would never respond to the dozens of letters she sent him, and never met his daughter, Francis. So. There’s a lot of speculation about why he had a relationship with her when she was the only close relationship he had with a woman outside of family and he never wrote her back or seemed to highly value their legal status as husband and wife. The emotions and reasons of everyone involved there is a historical mystery.

But anyway! John is in the colonies! There’s a war! There’s no time to think about silly things like women and college! There’s killing to be done! John Laurens was signed on as one of George Washington’s aides-de-camp, which is where he met a young, driven, determined young man from the Caribbean named Alexander Hamilton. The two of them hit it off right away. They were both smart, desperate for glory in battle, and connected through their shared belief in abolition. An unusual stance for someone of John’s background to take, but he was determined to bring abolition to the colonies, specifically his home state of South Carolina, and he would spend the next 7 so years trying to turn that dream into a reality. He went as far as to ask for his inheritance in the form of Henry freeing the enslaved people who would have been given to him (Henry said no and it sparked a lot of debate between the two of them). So the war is happening. John spends a lot of time between fighting in the north and leading skirmishes in the south. It's from his campaigns in the south that we have the famed Hamilton-Laurens letters that everyone loves so much (I am everyone. That includes me, I will admit it)

John tended to forget people existed if they were not right next to him (which would explain the situation with Martha) and so his letters to Alexander are very sparse, whereas Alexander would write him a letter every week, sometimes even three times in one week. Alexander’s letters are dramatic, full of hope for the future and lots of admiration for John that is very flowery even for the standards of the time. Unfortunately for us, there are portions of these letters that have been burned or torn out, so there is speculation that the contents explicitly stating love that moved beyond friendship and prose, and into revealing an actual relationship. However, it is sadly a very recent trend to focus on queer history, so a lot of their letters have been watered down or outright ignored. There is also a struggle between wanting to use terms that we are familiar with and knowing that, to quote my history professor, that the past is a foreign country and we are just visiting. So to apply modern labels to something such as sexuality when there is no concrete evidence is a heavily debatable stance, especially with the importance of someone choosing how they want to be identified and not having those labels forced on them.

(that being said, I do think the evidence points us to Alexander Hamilton being at least bisexual. He had serious romantic feelings towards both men and women throughout his life, including John Laurens–regardless of whether or not those feelings were returned in that case. John remains an enigma there, though most scholars place him somewhere in the gay category)

Anyway, returning to John from my little tangent. He kept fighting and getting hurt and going out and fighting and getting hurt. The Marquis de Lafayette, who was the youngest member of their trio, wrote in a letter that there was only one battle in which John did not get wounded, though not for the lack of trying (funnily enough, it was the only battle in which Lafayette did get wounded). This leads to the same discussion as sexuality being applied with looking at the mental health of historical figures. At this point in the historical conversations, many historians are in agreement that John was at the least clinically depressed, possibly suicidal. The proof for these claims are evidenced in the way he did not take care of himself at all. He did do exactly as Lafayette wrote; there is not a battle he was in where he was not stabbed or shot. This coupled with a few things he wrote in letters to his uncle when he was younger reveal a young man who struggled with serious depression and a lack of regard towards his own life and safety. It would be this disregard that would ultimately get him killed on August 27, 1782, when the idiot man decided against General Greene’s orders to attack a nearby British foraging group. Did I also mention he was suffering from a severe fever at the time? The American soldiers would be horribly outnumbered and John was killed. He had made serious progress towards integrating the Continental Army in the south and was in conversation with the government of South Carolina to create a battalion of formerly enslaved people. However, after his death, those strides towards abolition in South Carolina were swiftly buried.

John Laurens’ death greatly impacted those closest to him. Henry Laurens was devastated by the loss of another child and would remove himself fully from politics a few years later. The Marquis de Lafayette would write that John was one of the best and bravest men he knew. George Washington would echo the same sentiments, saying John’s only flaw was his recklessness. And his death emotionally broke some part of Alexander. From the moment John died, Alexander would never form a close relationship with another man. He would have casual friendships, but never again did he have another relationship like he did with John (and if you want to cry, I suggest reading the last letter Alexander sent to John—which he never received because John was dead before the letter got to South Carolina. In it Alexander is all happy about the new country that’s being started and asking John to join him in making the new nation, saying “It requires all the virtue and all the abilities of the country. Quit your sword my friend, put on the toga, come to Congress. We know each others sentiments, our views are the same: we have fought side by side to make America free, let us hand in hand struggle to make her happy ....Yrs for ever, A Hamilton”)

(if that doesn’t make you cry, I don’t know what will)

Anyway, if anyone has read this far, thank you for reading my impromptu essay. Thank you for the question, Raccoon, and I hope this answers it!

#not whump #marz actually talks #answered asks #yes. i am a nerd. I know #there's so much more that I didn't fit in here but it goes off down rabbit trails about society and stuff like that #there's also discussion that john had a white savior complex thing going on #while I think there's a lot more nuance and societal factors to consider; i do agree with what that statement is getting at #again. this man was an enigma in many areas of his life #a complex historical figure for sure #(and a little silly at times. I love him)#history things

2 notes · View notes

the-furies · 2 years

Note

SLEEPOVER SATURDAY!! COMPLAIN AND/OR RANT ABT SOMETHING!!!

I let this sit for a few hours because when you sent it we were About to go to sleep but then we dozed off and our body decided that Like 20 Minutes Of Sleep Is Enough To Keep Us Awake All Night! And so we read for like 2 more hours or so and ANYWAY.

The point is I& have been Thinking on what to rant about. Should I use this opportunity to rant about how ODD plurality is for me personally, how strange it is now in this life not only to be apart of something Bigger and More Than One but all simultaneously in One Body but also myself, personally, in-sys, being Multiple too, and how jarring that is now?

Perhaps I can rant about things that have happened in, oh I don't know, the past like 200 or so years ago and how Fucking BIZARRE this life is compared to my Past?

Maybe, rant about, the fuckign. Everything of it all. And just. I can't even finish this sentence!!!!

But no. Sit the fuck down.

I am going to rant to you about Peggle.

Let me FUCKING tell you something. I live and breathe Peggle nowadays. It is Thee Biggest Hyperfixation-Obsession-Special-Interest I've Ever Had In Any Of My Time Existing Ever . Nothing has ever brought me so much joy before (AHEM except for My Wonderful Significant Others Who Have Followed Me To This Life But BESIDES THEM,). I don't fuckgin Knwo what it is about this stupid series but it has Been Living In My Brain Rent Free The SECOND I Laid Eyes On It. And holy fucking shit. Holy fucking shit. I have. I have Opinions. On things in this series, ok.

First off. Ok. Renfield. This stupid dorky-ass pumpkin MotherFUCKER. I am beating Renfield Haters Up With A Sword!!!!!!! Fuck oFF off this page if you hate Renfield all my homies LOVE Renfield OK!!!!!!! LISTNE !!! He is a GREAT character!!!! I do not understand why people (or, the people we've watched play Peggle and I will admit is not that many!) hate his power!!! LITERALLY it is so good his levels just aren't BUILT for it properly!!!!!

I understand that his Thing, at least in Peggle Nights, is that he's an Artist™ or a Fan Of Thee Fine Arts™ and all, but while it's cool it just... Doesn't work!! All his levels (again, in Peggle Nights, which btw Is Thee Best Peggle Game Ever Prove Me Wrong!) are centered around famous paintings. The Scream, The Persistence of Memory, The Great Wave off Kanagawa, a couple others I care not to try to remember and Google right now—it's COOL but they don't WORK as LEVELS IN PEGGLE!! Fuckin, at least not for him!! Maybe for someone like Jimmy Lightning? Who's power is shooting two balls at once? Maybe for Claude, who's powers are flippers (which is funny because he's a lobster and the flippers are in the shape of his claws HaHa)? Maybe scrap the idea all together or use different paintings to make his levels out of??? I don't know!!! All I know is that his levels suck ASS in Peggle Nights and it's primarily because the way the pegs are laid out are SO far and few in between—once the ball drops, and goes back to the top of the screen As Is Renfield's Power, it just. Drops immediately back down the hole it first created!

And this would be avoidable I personally think if the fuckin PEGS WERE CLUSTERED MORE and also if the LEVELS WERE BUILT TO WORK WITH HIS POWER AND NOT GO WITH AN AESTHETIC and oh my god the levels he has in others games from what I've seen work with his power way better but God shit fuCK AND DAMN WHY DID THEY DO THIS, TO ONE OF THE COOLEST CHARACTERS IN ONE OF THE BEST PEGGLE GAMES, HOMOPHOBIA I SAY! SPECIFICALLY TOWARDS ME.

But anyways!

Second of all, Tula best character, also Warren suffers from the same thing Renfield does on top of HIS power just generally not being very Good And Useful, also fuck the Peggle app, that is not true Peggle, where are my beloveds, what did they do to my beloved Video Gaem, Who are these new characters, where is Claude?, Tula??, Hell they don't even have Renfield OR Warren what is this shit?????!!

IN CONCLUSION:

Buy Peggle Now, It Is Worth Your Time And Money, This Is A Threat (/joke)

#ask #thank you I have been sitting on this rant for quite a while with nary an excuse to post it -Izzet #Sorry for the Long Ramblings And Odd Word Useage And All the first and thusfar only book I've read while in this life is House of Leaves.#As you can see it is already fucking with my brain (honorary‚ also /joke)#the rants about plurality and The Inner Workings Of My Mind Being An Enigma shall come at a later date when I #And that's the end of that thought‚ folks!#long post #Fun fact Peggle has genuinely‚ honest to god‚ changed me for the better #had it not been for Acquiring A Hyperfixation/Special Interest I would still be Very Close To My Canon Self and therefore a huge prick #to everyone here but Nopem #*Nope. I'm normal and nice now <3!#I think if renfield's power should be tweaked then it should be so that once the ball drops to the bottom you can reshoot it without—#—using up one of your balls but that doesn't feel... Unique enough or somethin?#I don't Know it is 1 :40 AM brain is fried right now. goodnight will put more thought into this tidbit later!

4 notes · View notes

sciencebecameouraddiction · 2 months

Text

his eyes reminded you of garnets, shining, deep and raw. they were intriguing as you saw the depth of the red beryl gems that seemed to have been cut by a master jeweler. the most precious gem, crafted from practiced hands and gifted to an enigma of a man.

“you’re staring.” was all that was said as he turned the paper he was reading, never looking up at you.

“beautiful things are to be admired.” you respond back easily, not letting him catching you in the act stop you from continuing. he sighed.

“i am not a beautiful thing to be admired. at most i’m the demented figure you lock in a cabinet and then is forgotten for thousands of years.” he explains, setting down his paper and looking at you. your smile growing as you are now graced with a full, complete look of his eyes.

“you don’t see what i see.” he opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off just the same. “you don’t see how your eyes shine like rubies, that were meticulously handcrafted by someone with the expertise of generations. how your hair falls so softly, just so, framing your face as if da vinci himself set it there. you obviously don’t see, how you gracefully enter and exit a room or even cook and it’s like watching a trained dancer complete a routine.” you cross over to him and straddle his lap, tossing the paper on the table next to the couch.

“you are art, alastor. worth admiring and every minute i’m not, it’s a minute of my hellish life wasted.” you caress his cheeks as his eyes are wide.

“where were you when i was alive?” he asks, a look of sadness crossing his face.

“waiting to admire you.” you respond back easily and press a kiss to his cheek.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor/reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor altruist #alastor fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel fluff

2K notes · View notes

ganondoodle · 11 days

Text

(new totk rewritten - super rough concept)

so this was a super rough sketch for retrieving the enigma stone of the zora- im currently redoing it since im not happy with this one-

but i have run into a bit of a problem; see the reason why theres monsters causing trouble everywhere is bc ganondorf is trying to keep the stones out of raurus hand(s) thus creating all those bosses to hopefully stop link from reaching them, or at least to slow you down BUT i cant seem to decide whether it makes more sense if the whole reason they are split up among the other regions is because the ancient .. 'sages' wanted to ALSO keep them away from rauru, or if they were instructed by him to do this and await his return (which would be a good reason why they are wearing that sonau helmet still .. if they werent completely in on it i doubt they would do it lol)

(the thought being, would rauru be more likely to not give the stones away at all or he was too afraid that gan could wake up earlier/break free and get his hands on them first- so he sends his trusty servants- sages out to construct big temples and await his return but to stop gan if he were to seek them out first ... also possibly so all the stones arent in one spot, since they, in my rewrite, are the highest concentrated version of spirit energy and would emit an extreme amount of energy likely to attract something... yeha its all based on luminous stoens containting spirit energy and that also powering the shiekah tech .. made a diagram (?) about it once actually, though some parts arent true anymore bc im omitting the whole dragon transform stuff)

(im also using this concept for the skyward sword comic btw, the mining of the timeshift stones being the reason the lanayru region becomes a desert bc the lands been robbed of life energy meant to go back into the system over time edit: i mean this as in an environment was drastically altered from its natural state in an extremely short amount of time, which is generally a bad thing, not as in desert areas just being dead sand filled wastelands, theres plenty of life there if meant to be like that/given long enough time to adjust or turn into it)

while i want to make rauru a villain i also dont want him to be too overtly evil since ... thats kinda boring and just pushes that role onto someone else, im aiming for more nuance overall (which is also why gan isnt some goody two shoes perfectly fine with hyrule, like yeah .. the calamity was his doing still)- so im leaning more towards the latter- though perhaps the gerudo did so more with the intent to keep it away from rauru

(also, i am including mineru after all.. but only as a mummy like so (sorry) but her stone is gone when you reach it bc its been taken by the yiga- for which you have to tract them down and fight koga (and possibly supah/sooga) )

#ganondoodles #art #zelda #tloz #ganondoodles rewrites totk #loz #... is this normal amounts of thoughts about soemthing?#im gonna guess no

408 notes · View notes

tarotwithavi · 11 months

Text

You from the eyes of your future lover/future spouse

Read part 1 here

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Kindly ask your spirit guides to show you the right pile for yourself and then open your eyes. Whichever pile catches your attention is the right pile for you.

For my female audience , I'll be using she/her pronouns in this post.

Masterlist

Paid services

Customize your own reading

Pile 1

When I'm with her, I feel an overwhelming sense of strength and confidence, as if I could conquer any challenge that comes my way. She embodies everything that brings me joy and fulfillment. Being in her presence makes me feel like the luckiest person in the world because I have her by my side. Her mere existence has the power to make my wildest dreams a reality. Not only does she inspire me to reach for the stars, but she also motivates me to become a better version of myself. Her influence pushes me to strive for greatness in all aspects of life. Just knowing that she is there for me, supporting me, and believing in me, helps me heal wounds that were never caused by her. Her presence alone has a transformative effect on my well-being, bringing me solace and restoration. If her love were poison, I would willingly drink it without hesitation or remorse. Such is the depth of my devotion and the extent to which I value her affection. I yearn to be of assistance to her, to be a reliable pillar she can lean on. I aspire to be her rock, her unwavering support, providing comfort and strength whenever she needs it. Being with her fills me with an indescribable sense of empowerment and joy. She is my beacon of happiness, encouraging me to strive for greatness and inspiring me to become the best version of myself. Her love and presence heal me in ways I never thought possible, and I am eager to reciprocate by being her steadfast support and ally.

Pile 2

Describing her is a challenging task, for she possesses a depth that transcends the confines of ordinary words. She carries an aura that attracts wealth and prosperity wherever she ventures, as if they were faithful companions by her side. From a distance, she appears strong and bold, yet I sense a vulnerable little girl hiding within her, fearful of the harshness this world can wield. She has distanced herself from those around her, for nobody has truly comprehended her essence. No one has made an earnest effort to unravel the intricate puzzle of her being. My deepest desire is to be the one who unravels that enigma, the person who embraces the challenge of understanding her complexities. I yearn to discover every missing piece and gently place it in its rightful position, completing the beautiful picture that is her. I want to penetrate the walls she has built, to listen to her unspoken fears and insecurities, and to offer solace and understanding. By becoming the person who comprehends her deepest self, I hope to bridge the gap between her and the world that often fails to perceive her true nature. I want to be the companion who supports her unconditionally, providing comfort and encouragement as she navigates through life's labyrinth. It is my aspiration to create an environment where she can fully express herself, knowing that she is truly seen, heard, and appreciated.

Pile 3

The moment our eyes met, I was immediately captivated by her essence, as if an invisible force had bound my heart to hers. Prior to meeting her, I had been skeptical of love at first sight, dismissing it as a mere romantic notion. However, in her presence, all doubts were washed away by the sheer brilliance of her beauty. She has bewitched me completely, leaving no room for retreat. Even if her allure leads to my demise, I would embrace it willingly, for the privilege of experiencing her presence outweighs any consequences. Her presence has an intoxicating effect on me, causing me to lose my composure in the most enchanting way. It is as if she holds the power to unravel the layers of my soul, igniting a fire within me that I cannot control. My hands yearn to touch her, to explore every corner of her body, as if searching for an uncharted territory that only she possesses. Every flaw she may perceive within herself, I view as perfect imperfections, enhancing her unique beauty and making her all the more irresistible. Words fail to fully express the depth of my admiration for her. She is a work of art, a masterpiece without blemish in my eyes. I am eager to shower her with praise, to extol every facet of her being, and to make her feel cherished beyond measure. In her presence, I find myself stripped of pretenses and laid bare, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. It is an indescribable sensation, this all-consuming affection, where reason and logic are overshadowed by an overwhelming desire to be closer to her. She has become the center of my universe, a gravitational force pulling me toward her. To love her is to lose myself willingly, surrendering to the magnetic power she holds over me.

2K notes · View notes

atlasnessie · 4 months

Text

being with DAZAI is a wonderland of its own. everyday, there’s something new he wants to do, something new he would say to you, whether it being a new suicide method or something he saw on the way to work. “lookit !! i took a picture of a cat while coming to work. it looks just like you, don’t’cha think ? … what ever do you mean i called you a ‘blade of grass’ the other day ? well, in my defense, it looked exactly like you.”

DAZAI has no sense of personal space. your personal bubble is his to invade, maybe even his as one with you. he would make you sit next to him or he would scoot over to you, playing with pens that rested on your desk and lazily scanning over papers. his legs is playing feetsies with yours, intertwined and making the desk move every now and then, resulting into you having to scold DAZAI for ruining your paperwork. he would raise his hands in surrender before giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “hm ? that wasn’t my fault, dear ! ack- hey now, no need to hit me … oh, alright, alright, i’m sorry. i’ll let you get back to work. but before that, a quick kiss won’t kill you, will it ~?”

DAZAI doesn’t use the nickname ‘belladonna’ on you. that sort of title is reserved for the ladies he would tease, asking of a double suicide. you’re his one and only. the love of his life, as he would claim. DAZAI would look at you longingly and think of the most cliche things to say and call you. “dear, could you come and help me with my papers ? hm ? ah, what’dya mean ‘do it yourself ..?’ come on now, angel, please ~?”

OSAMU DAZAI, an enigma of a man. you didn’t know much of him before he came to the agency at the ripe age of 20. you also didn’t know what brought you into him. perhaps it was that handsome face of his, or the way his dark chocolate hair waves, or his dark, void-like eyes. maybe it was his charismatic ways of talking, his voice smooth as honey, lies dripping down each time he spoke. you knew you loved him the moment you laid your eyes on him. if you were an empty treasure chest DAZAI would be the gold, the silver, the bronze, and all the jewels that resided. he was your everything, and you were his. life goes on, is what people tell you. and so it does. OSAMU, the man you once found a mystery, comes to spill everything about himself, one by one, little by little. he holds you dearly to his heart, he just hopes you do the same. “heyy, angel ? wanna go out for a drink with me later ? am i done with my work, you ask ? why, of course !! ah, why are you peaking at my desk … nono, ignore all of the stacked papers, my dear. just let me know once you’re finished and we’ll slip out ~!!”

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs dazai #bsd dazai #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x you #osamu dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #atlas writes !

467 notes · View notes

delulustateofmind · 17 days

Text

Potions & Shadows (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leadign to Feyre needing the once village apothecaries help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.

A/n: I posted a preview a week or two ago. I enjoyed writing this one, I've been super busy at work and with a family wedding so probably won't have a part two anytime soon. Hope you enjoy! Thank you all for the support on my last few fics! :)

Word Count: 2.5k

Part two, Part Three

Warmings: None? Let me know if there's any.

Feyre would often find herself lost in memories of their old neighbor, a mysterious figure from her childhood spent in the manor with her sisters. Little did she know, her encounter with the apothecary would soon unveil new mysteries. Years later, as Feyre bid farewell before their departure, she decided to revisit the familiar door, hoping to uncover the enigma of the past.

In the hustle of their impoverished days and the chaos of her transition to fae life, Feyre scarcely pondered the mystery. It wasn't until Nesta mentioned seeing the apothecary, unchanged from their childhood encounter, right before the human queen's arrival, that Feyre's curiosity stirred. She made a mental note to pay a quick visit to the apothecary's cottage down the road after their business with the queens concluded.

The meeting with the human queens did not end too well, though they did manage to secure the book. With Rhysand somewhat strict on their schedule, Feyre knew she couldn't risk being late. The crunch of the dirt path under her feet felt oddly familiar yet different in her new fae form. The smells of the pine trees now heightened, and the distant streams seemed closer than ever. Pulling her out of her trance, she arrived at the apothecary’s cottage.

The moss on the roof indicated the cottage had been there for centuries, perhaps even when the village was being built. Feyre walked up and knocked on the door, her heart pounding with anticipation. The shuffling of footsteps inside signaled someone approaching. When the door creaked open, Feyre was met with a familiar face.

A short woman stood before her, her scent unmistakably human, yet intertwined with a hint of something elusive. Her hazel green eyes, flecked with gold and blue hues, seemed to hold secrets as deep as the mountains' morning dew. The apothecary wiped her hands on her apron, stained with various herbs and powders, and greeted Feyre with a small sigh and a bright smile.

"It's you... but different?" she remarked, tilting her head curiously. Feyre released a breathy laugh. "Yeah, you could say I am a bit different... you're back," she whispered.

The apothecary moved aside, inviting Feyre into the familiar interior of the cottage. Bookshelves lined the walls, while towers of books stood around tables filled with bottles and concoctions. The atmosphere was comforting yet tinged with a sense of mystery. As the apothecary made tea, Feyre couldn't help but notice the intricate organization amidst the apparent chaos.

"No longer human, now a fae?" the apothecary mused as she prepared the tea. "Haven't seen that before." She smiled to herself, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "I always thought you were human, I mean you don't seem fae," Feyre whispered.

"That's because I'm not fae, though I am considered a fae creature," the apothecary explained with a soft smile. "Long story short, as I have a feeling your companions only gave you a few moments to visit. I am half human, half-elven... one of the last of my kind."

Feyre looked puzzled before asking, "How come you don't age? I mean the human counterpart should... make you age, right?" The apothecary poured the tea, the pink hue swirling in the cup, before joining Feyre at the table. "You're right, I should age, but there's this thing called the 'settling.' It's based on mana. The more mana you have, the more likely to reach immortality."

The apothecary glanced up at Feyre with a soft smile. "I stopped aging around... don't know, maybe 19 or 20 years old?" Feyre looked at her in astonishment, trying to reconcile the fragile appearance with the revelation of her age. "How old are you now?" she asked softly.

You smiled, reminiscing about your past travels as you glanced at your spellbooks and then back at Feyre while taking a sip of your tea. "I am roughly 300 years old this year, give or take a few," you admitted with a hint of nostalgia. "You tend to lose count on the road."

Brushing your long hair aside, you pulled up your sleeve, revealing the insignia of an adventurer guild—a small blossom marking. "This is from my guild," you explained. "I'm a mage, so I embark on journeys from time to time. It's how I honed my skills in concocting medicines and remedies."

Feyre looked taken aback, unable to sense any magic radiating from you despite your mage status and half-elven heritage. She was filled with questions, but time was fleeting, and there was much to be done.

As Feyre finished her tea, she felt a sense of urgency creeping in. "Listen... there's something that might be coming, would you watch my sisters?" The apothecary met her gaze with a reassuring smile. "I leave tonight for another quest, but the wards should be stable around their house. I'll reinforce them before I leave."

With a nod of gratitude, Feyre rose from her seat, her mind buzzing with newfound revelations. Little did she know, her visit to the apothecary would mark the beginning of a journey fraught with unforeseen challenges.

******

Certainly, unforeseen challenges indeed. In fact, the wards failed to hold as Hybern seized Feyre’s sisters while you were away on your travels seeking new spell books, a hobby of yours. Across the continent, whispers of war spread like wildfire. Perhaps this was what Feyre had alluded to—a war brewing on the horizon? After completing your quest, you returned home to find a letter from Feyre—a proposition of sorts.

“War is coming, we need healers like you to join us. Let me know your response when you see this.”

Magic paper? Intriguing, something you will inquire about later on. You write your response. Perhaps, a new adventure wouldn’t be bad. You’ve never visited Prythian before. Given that elves used to be seen as slaves there, that elves were seen to be just one step above humans, being a half-breed who know’s where that would place you. Feyre was kind though, you knew that from the moment you met her. A war would be brutal, if the fae were asking for help, that meant it would be serious enough to involve others.

“Sure, I’ll give my commitment for a few years,” you wrote. The paper vanished almost instantly, leaving behind a faint scent of smoke—a curious phenomenon indeed. Moments later, a message appeared, promising someone would visit you at the cottage within hours. With a shrug, you began to pack your belongings, including spell books, herbs, clothes, and trinkets. You were prepared.

That's when you met Mor, a lively fae whose energy belied her formidable power. She winnowed you to the healer’s cottage, where Madja, the head healer, resided. Mor apologized and hurriedly departed, leaving you to converse with Madja. The healer welcomed you warmly, showing you to a modest room furnished with essentials. The bed with white bedding and an old green quilt laid on top. Madja pointed out that the nights here might be too cold for creatures like yourself.

"Haven't seen a human in years," she remarked as she led you to the apothecary storage room. "But I sense something else about you," a twinkle in Madja’s eye hinted at her awareness of your half-elven heritage. You responded with a smile, "Most don’t catch on too quickly," you murmured.

Madja returned your smile, her expression warm yet knowing. "You're probably the last of your kind," she remarked casually, her tone tinged with humor. "Your kind was always more focused on mana and magic than finding love. Perhaps your human side will help you with that," she teased, reaching for a mortar and pestle.

"Now, kid," Madja continued, her demeanor shifting to business-like. "I want to see what you're capable of. Make a few hundred healing potions—some for minor cuts and bruises, and others for those foolish soldiers who find themselves impaled one too many times."

You immersed yourself in your work, with Madja checking in every few minutes to monitor your progress. Impressed by your efficiency, she peppered you with compliments, acknowledging your skill. Together, you labored until late afternoon, the sun casting long shadows across the cottage.

Feyre stopped by to offer a brief greeting before departing to attend to war preparations and assist her newly transformed sisters. Their transformation weighed heavily on your conscience—if only your wards had been stronger, perhaps you could have prevented their fate. Pushing aside the guilt, you ground a few more herbs, determined to focus on the task at hand. Or perhaps you were trying to push that guilt away by keeping yourself distracted.

The soothing scent of herbs filled the room, mingling with Madja’s quiet humming—a melody unfamiliar to you yet strangely comforting. You found solace in the routine of potion-making, a respite from the chaos of the outside world.

As you worked, memories of your travels surfaced—the thrill of discovering new spells, the camaraderie of fellow adventurers, and the satisfaction of aiding those in need. Though your main quest was to collect spells, you found fulfillment in helping others, a testament to your kind-hearted nature.

Completing the last batch of potions, Madja introduced you to the other healers, who welcomed you with open arms. Over dinner, you exchanged stories of your respective lives—Madja sharing tales of her long existence, while you recounted your travels across distant lands. The other healers listened in awe, their curiosity piqued by your adventures beyond Velaris. Constantly asking questions of your adventures, asking about the dragons you’ve came across. About the handsome warriors that you went through dungeons with. A smile tugged your lips as you bid them goodnight and headed to your room.

As you lay on your bed, enveloped by the chill of the night air, you found comfort in the warmth of the quilt that Madja had provided. Retrieving a book about defensive magic from your bedside table, you delved into its pages, seeking solace in the familiar words until sleep claimed you.

****

As the end of the first week approached, you found yourself manning the desk, processing orders for sleeping tonics, stomach remedies, and various other mundane requests. It was the less exciting aspect of your work, but you understood the necessity of attending to such matters. After all, not every day could be spent brewing exotic potions and elixirs. Madja had left to replenish the inventory and wouldn't return until nightfall. Before her departure, she mentioned that someone from the court would be coming to collect a 'private' order and instructed you not to charge them.

As you cleaned the countertop, the door creaked open, and a chilling breeze swept into the room, carrying with it the scent of mist and cedar, tinged with a hint of blood. You looked up and found yourself locking eyes with a figure standing in the doorway. My stars, he was strikingly handsome in a deadly sort of way—a sight that momentarily stole your breath away. You recognized him as an Illyrian, though you had never seen one before. There was something about his wings that instilled a sense of fear in you, even though they remained folded tightly against his back, shrouding his features in shadows.

Azriel dipped his head in acknowledgment, his golden gaze piercing as he spoke in a low, almost hypnotic tone. "I am here to pick up a prescription," he stated, his voice like a captivating melody that seemed to draw you in.

You nodded, trying to maintain your composure as you retrieved the bag containing the requested item. It was a rare occurrence for you to feel flustered, especially in the presence of another. As you handed him the bag, your hands brushed briefly, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. The label on the bag revealed its contents—a contraceptive tonic. Oh... he was an active male too.

Azriel murmured his thanks before casting a lingering gaze over you, his expression unreadable behind his hand. As he turned to leave, you couldn't shake the feeling of self-consciousness. Did you smell bad? Was your human heritage too obvious to the fae? Such thoughts raced through your mind as the door closed behind him, leaving you to ponder the encounter long after he had gone.

****

Azriel departed for the House of Wind, where a family dinner awaited. Elaine had begun emerging from her room, while Nesta remained ensconced in her moody disposition. Lucien had ventured to the continent, leaving an absence felt at the table. Feyre was already seated next to Rhys when Azriel arrived, discreetly passing the tonic to Cassian, who muttered a quick thanks before Azriel settled in beside him.

"I didn’t realize Madja had taken on a new apprentice," Azriel murmured, his gaze shifting to Mor as she joined Cassian. Feyre glanced at Azriel, her curiosity piqued. "You met her today? She’s a friend of mine from the village. I knew her growing up," she explained. Azriel took a sip of the wine passed to him by Cassian, his mind wandering to the petite healer who had left such an impression on him.

Elaine's transformation from human to fae had only heightened Azriel's attraction to her, raising questions about his preferences. Was he developing a preference for humans? Could he handle the brevity of their lifespans? Feyre's voice broke through his reverie, drawing his attention back to the conversation. "She’s half-elf too, are they rare?" she inquired.

Rhysand nodded, his expression softening as he delved into the history of elves and their dwindling numbers. "They used to be slaves for the Fae, around the same time as the humans," he began. "Perhaps that's why she has never been to Prythian until now."

He paused, his tone softening even further. "Also, the elves were known to lack emotions, which led to them not reproducing that often, ultimately to their demise. There’s a few around, but not many anymore."

As food was placed on the table, Azriel found himself consumed by thoughts of the healer. Her scent lingered in his mind, reminiscent of cherry blossoms on a warm day. Though he had only met her briefly, he felt an inexplicable pull toward her that tugged at his heartstrings. It was a feeling he had never experienced before.

An idea struck him. "Don’t we need to deliver the potions to the camps? I could help with that tomorrow, I finished the reports," Azriel suggested, turning to Rhysand. A smirk danced on the high lord’s lips—a silent understanding passed between them. "If you want," Rhysand replied casually, gesturing with a wave of his hand. "Perhaps show her around Velaris while you’re at it."

Azriel nodded, anticipation stirring within him. Tomorrow promised to be an intriguing day, his shadows seemed almost restless to meet the little healer again. A new sort of feeling fueled both him and his shadows.

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #feyre acotar

299 notes · View notes

inner-viper · 10 months

Text

Why is my FS attracted to me? (Short Ver)

Hello, this is Inner Viper and I decided to focus on channeled messages. My tarot divination skills have been improving. It’s been a year since I have been practicing tarot, it’s been my whole life since I have been practicing my intuition, like everyone else lol. I took a break from my Patreon and this blog because I have a full-time job but I am going back to school so hopefully I will have more time for consistent uploads. I do want to go on lives here, but I might create a youtube channel to upload pac readings. If I do go down that route then I’ll probably do live readings on there. I’ll let you guys know if I do decide that!

If you want a paid reading please check out my list here.

Remember to choose the image that is calling out to you. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t because this is a general pac reading. Some messages are not meant for you, while other messages aren’t meant for you. Also, this is meant to give you insight, not concrete evidence.

I hope you enjoy the reading for today!

»»————-　♡　————-««

Pile 1

I am getting the energy of them being attracted to your work ethic. Perhaps you are a very committed individual, you may have a lot of projects underway. You know how to build and develop things to flourish. You may be extremely creative and they notice these things about you, I also am sensing that they love the smaller things about you too. Perhaps you do a certain face when you get something you want or dislike. It’s a unique facial expression, they like how expressive you are. They love the way you daydream about the smaller things in life too. They want to know what is going on inside your head, they want a small peak into your world. The way you perceive things and the way you speak is intellectually stimulating towards them too. They could spend hours just speaking to you about multiple topics. They also think you are fine asf.

Pile 2

Are you emo? They like your dark aesthetic, like the gloomy look you have going on. Honestly, it’s like all you have in your wardrobe is all black and they love that. They love the way you dress and the way you smile. They think you are an enigma, you have a contrast to yourself. If you aren’t having a dark aesthetic then it could be vice versa too. Let’s say you have a cute theme going on but your personality is super serious, yet you like these small cute things. I am honestly picking up in this pile that a majority of you really like Kuromi or any Hello Kitty stuff. Which is cute! They love the contrast in you and they are always amazed at how you are so different than most people. I am getting some non-conformist energy too. The love you for who you are.

Pile 3

They love how you are a bad bitch. I feel like mainly women choose this pile but if you aren’t then I feel like you just have a badass energy to you. They love how you look tough and mean like you give off mean-girl vibes but you aren’t one. They find you to be so sexy and alluring because of the way you present yourself too. Perhaps you find yourself meeting people and them saying “Oh, I thought you were mean at first” because that’s the type of energy I am getting. They love the way you move when you dance or are freely doing your own thing. They love it when you are so expressive because they themselves feel free with you. One of the other things they love about you is your jokes, they find you to be so funny.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Thank you for reading! If you want a paid reading please check out my list here.

#pac #tarot #hellenic pagan #pagan witch #pick a card #witchcraft #paganism #pick a pile #tarot cards #tarot pick a card #fs pac #pac tarot #pac future spouse #pac reading #pick a card reading #pick a picture #tarot reading #tarot community #daily tarot

1K notes · View notes

aemondsquill · 1 year

Text

In Honor's Name

Aemond Targaryen × Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Your new husband, Prince Aemond Targaryen, is truly an enigma. While he is cold and dismissive, he also proves to be quite the formidable protector of his lady wife

A/N: reader is from an unspecified House and has no physical descriptions

Warnings: Aemond's rizz is atrocious, violence, toxic relationship, hurt/comfort, Aemond IS a WIFE GUY, slight angst, floooof, implications of smut

Aemond Targaryen was not known for wearing his heart on his sleeve; actually it was quite the contrary, much to the dismay of his brand new wife. Attempting any form of conversation with the man was like yanking nails. He only gave one word answers or hum in response.

However, while he was not gifted in the arts of wooing his wife with his words, Y/N appreciated just how physically attentive he was. A gentle hand on her lower back when he guided her through the halls of the Keep, his fingers resting on her knee during long dinners, or his presence looming over her shoulder at banquets and feasts. These touches were the only indication that he even tolerated her.

----

Y/N was in no mood for the festivities laid out before her. Aegon decided to throw another feast for whichever unknown Lord's nameday or birth of an heir or perhaps he was just bored. Aemond, as always, was seated next to her. If he had not helped Y/N into her own seat, she would not even had known that he was there. The silence between them seemed to be even more stifling than the obnoxious noises of merriment that echoed through the great hall.

Y/N glared at the couples dancing, envious that they seemed to be enjoying themselves. She learned the hard way that Aemond does not dance. A sharp 'no' from his lips when she invited him to dance on their wedding day was enough to discourage her from ever asking again.

'How lucky am I to be married to such a bland brooding man?' She thought scornfully. He was confusing with his gentle touches, but harsh words and Y/N was done trying to figure him out. She would only do her duty: be a loyal wife and produce an heir or two. It wasn't much of a life, but there were worse ways to live.

Y/N reached for her cup, full of a dark Dornish red, and drank it greedily. The wine was delightfully bitter on her tongue.

Soon enough, a buzz flowed through her veins like warmed honey and made her brain slightly heavy. Y/N's spirits were lifted as the music swelled and the laughter all around her felt contagious.

With a new surge of confidence, Y/N turned to her ever-stoic husband. He eyed her curiously at her sudden movement.

"I supposed I shan't ask you for a dance, Lord husband, allow me to take my leave so I may find a willing partner." Without waiting for a response, Y/N shot out of her seat and grasped her velvety skirts and stalked towards Tyland Lannister.

Aemond's mouth gaped, slightly resembling a fish plucked out of the water. He could only watch helplessly as his wife, giggling and eyes shining, began an elegant waltz with the Lannister.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his fork tightly, jealousy boiling in his chest at the site of Tyland gripping his wife's waist and twirling her about.

Perhaps Aemond deserved to watch his wife fall for another. He knew he had not been a doting husband, but at least he wasn't cruel. He just felt uncomfortable expressing his affection for his Y/N!

Aemond would not accept the consequences of his own actions. She was his and everyone in the Keep would know it, especially that slimy cunt Tyland.

His anger was only spurred on when he watched the Lannister grip Y/N's arm tightly and whisper a salacious secret into her ear. Her face contorted in offense, causing Aemond to nearly leap over the table in front of him.

In a split second, Aemond was nose to nose with blond Lannister.

"I will fucking tear your eyes out of your head and force them down your throat if you so much as glance at my wife again." Even Y/N felt the chill of fear tingle her spine at Aemond's threat. Tyland only smirked at the brutal confrontation. Copious amounts of wine and ale only made Tyland more bold. And foolish.

Aemond placed his hand on the small of her back, more forcefully than usual.

"Come, wife, allow me to escort you to your chambers."

"Perhaps if you weren't such a frigid cunt maybe your wife wouldn't seek company elsewhere. Leave her to me and trust she will be taken care of."

Y/N felt the surge of humiliation warm her cheeks at Tyland's horrific words. The anger rolled off Aemond's shoulders in heavy waves as Tyland tugged Y/N back into his chest and continued his vicious tirade.

"Unhand my wife and I shall reward you with a swift death."

"I heard your wife has the sweetest cunt in Westeros", his nose grazed along her neck, inhaling her scent. "I wish to taste her."

A vile glint flashed across Aemond's violet eye and in an instant he yanked Y/N out of Tyland's arms, tossing her carelessly as he pursued the Lannister further.

Y/N yelped as she stumbled to the stony floor. She could only watch in horror as her husband's hands wrapped around Tyland's throat so hard that the veins bulged.

"I am the only one who will taste my wife's cunt."

Tyland's face turned red, then blue, then an ugly shade of purple as Aemond's hands slowly squeezed the life out of him. Tyland feebly attempted to grip Aemond's arms, chest, anything he could get his hands on as he crumpled to the floor.

"She tastes of the sweetest honey. She will only bear my heirs. She is mine and only mine." Y/N couldn't help the feeling of her cheeks flush at Aemond's obscene flattery.

Aemond did not let up his assault. Instead, the bulging of Lord Lannister's eyes seemed to egg him on to press harder and harder.

Y/N shouted for the nearby guards to stop her husband from killing his House's ally.

It took nearly four men to wretch Aemond away from the scoundrel. Once he stood he shrugged off their hands and immediately stalked towards Y/N. Her eyes widened in fear as she stumbled backwards slightly. Her flinch halted Aemond in his tracks briefly, a pang rattled his chest painfully. His little display of violence and jealousy only scared his beloved wife.

Aemond took a couple more steps, this time with caution so as not to frighten her more before placing his hand on her back.

"Let us retire, little wife." And she allowed him to guide her back to her chambers in silence.

The winding corridors allowed her to replay the scene over and over in her head. Never had she seen Aemond react to anything in such a way. Nor had he spoken this many words to her in the few months they had been married.

They reached the large oak doors of Y/N's chambers and Aemond ushered her inside.

"You should not have done that. You could have killed him."

Aemond regarded her coldly, "I wish I did. I wish everyone in that hall witnessed me killing him." Y/N rolled her eyes at his stubbornness. Aemond approached her and reached for her hand, but she pulled away before speaking sternly at him.

"No. You do not get to touch me after embarrassing your House like that and nearly killing a man!"

"I was defending your honor! Tis my duty as your husband!" He snarled. He reached out and grabbed at her again, this time pulling her into his chest and she squirmed against him.

"Stop resisting me. I wish to hold my wife and I shall do so!"

Never had Aemond been so vocal and obvious about his affection towards her. It threw Y/N into a whirlwind of emotion.

Finally, she stopped fighting against him and met his glare with her own. The two breathed heavily against each other, neither used to such intimate proximity outside of fucking.

"I have been damned by the gods to love you."

Y/N scoffed. "I never knew you could be so romantic. First you nearly kill a man, now you're saying you hate loving me."

Aemond closed his eye and sighed, mentally kicking himself for his fumbled words. His arm tightend around her waist. Y/N was annoyed at the warmth that flooded her chest at the feeling.

"I love you, little wife. So much so, my words seemed to escape me, but it's true. In the short time we've been married I have fallen deeper than I can possibly fathom. It frightens me. Seeing Tyland Lannister put his hands on you drove me to the brink of madness. I would kill a thousand men and their widows if you asked me to."

Y/N's eyes softened at his clumsy declaration. In his own strange and murderous way, he held a great affection for her and Y/N's heart melted at the thought.

She brushed a lock of hair out of his eye, sighing.

"You know you cannot kill every man who speaks to me."

"I know, but I can kill most of them." She chuckled at his attempt at a jest.

Aemond found himself not able to resist any longer. He kissed her soft supple lips with fervor. Y/N moaned softly in delight.

"I have to make good on a promise I made to that Lannister cunt, little wife."

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x fem!reader #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #idiots in love

2K notes · View notes

goodgirlofglory · 10 months

Text

A successful trial run/ One-shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 9,2k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, smut, making out, nipple-play, dry-humping, coming in pants hehe, me making up a lot of unconvincing sciency talk about tech and engineering and whatnot.

Summary: As a newly recruited scientist in the royal technical institute of Wakanda, your first task involves a certain Winter Soldier fresh out of cryostasis and in need of a new arm. Intrigued by his mysterious figure since forever, you’re brimming with fascination over the subject. Little did you anticipate capturing his eye in return.

Note: This takes place somewhere between Captain America: The Winter Soldier and Avengers Infinity War. Kinda wanted to write something from the time Bucky spent in Wakanda. I enjoyed writing this one, hope you enjoy reading it😘 Likes, replies and reblogs are amazing. Luv you guys, you are the best, i am always so grateful and excited to receive all your feedback💕💕🦋

The first time the Winter Soldier entered the lab, he was flanked by the entire Dora Milaje and led by the king himself. Apart from the usual ceremony of greeting the king and his guest of honor, no one seemed jittered nor particularly preoccupied with the new project - or its primary subject. The engineers, scientists and technicians of the royal technical institute and Wakandan Design group were used to making much more extravagant and complicated designs than a prosthetic arm.

It was a regular Tuesday for everyone - except you, that was. Extraordinarily gifted from a young age, you had quickly advanced and surpassed your peers and even superiors in your studies at the university of the capitol. Subsequently, you were the youngest person in the lab - apart from princess Shuri herself.

And you were almost jumping out of your skin with excitement at having the Winter Soldier as your very first test subject. Or rather, you were on the team that was to build his next vibranium arm. You’d read all about him and watched all the news over the years, but you had started working in the lab after he’d been brought to Wakanda and put in cryostasis, so you’d never actually seen him in the flesh. Now he was out of cryo for rehabilitation and with that came the need for a new arm. Shuri had picked the team herself, and to your utter surprise, chosen you as a part of it.

Your task was fairly simple: organize and execute the fitting of the prosthetic prototypes with the subject himself, take notes and report to the team whatever adjustments the soldier would prefer. The others would do most of the engineering, creative modeling and building - the more prestigious work. You didn’t really care that your tasks were relatively simple and low level though - it was an amazing learning experience for a newbie like you. Plus, it meant you were the primary contact person for the soldier himself, which had you flushing hot for both professional and decidedly less professional reasons.

The soldier was an enigma; lethal chaos and extreme discipline spliced inside the body of what was once a regular American. His mythos was both intriguingly detailed and all at once a mystery - a sort of dangerous puzzle you couldn’t help but be drawn to like a moth to a flame. Everything he had lived and experienced and represented was so very very far from your own safe and mundane world. It wasn’t that growing up in Wakanda had been boring per se, but everything was just so… perfect, and despite yourself, you were drawn to the Winter Soldier and the extraordinary case of his unusual life. And from the moment you’d laid eyes on him, you knew you were out of your depth.

He was beautiful - in a rugged, unpolished sort of way; raw and hauntingly real, he only seemed to move when it served the explicit purpose of his visit. Otherwise, he stood still as a statue. He had an air of mystery to him, but despite his huge, menacing and burly form, he wasn’t scary. His eyes were soft, the babiest of blue, his stubble revealed tiny streaks of silver, and his hair, though washed and groomed, had a consistently shaggy look to it that made him seem…human. Just another regular white guy to everyone else in the lab - the most intriguing person in Wakanda to you.

Along with the king, the soldier had silently shaken the hand of everyone on the team, looking them in the eyes with a polite, though quite stoic expression that betrayed nothing of what was happening on the inside. You’d stared at him as he'd made his way down the line, scrutinized every inch of his face, trying to gauge the tiniest twitch of muscle, any indication or hint of emotion - to your utter astonishment, you could see nothing. Then he'd reached where you stood at the end of the line of team members, and your heart'd kicked into a sprint at the way he suddenly loomed before you in all his muscled, mystical and deadly glory. Holy shit, he was huge, surely a foot taller than you, with the most obscenely broad shoulders and thighs that bulged in a way that had your mouth going dry.

Get yourself together! Stop ogling the subject!, you had admonished yourself harshly.

By the time you got back in contact with your body and reached a hand out to him, your palms were sweaty and your face hot. And then, as he engulfed your hand in his pale, calloused one, hot like a multilayered sonic solar panel during july, you thought you saw a muscle near his eye twitch, catching your gaze the same way his eyes did a moment later when they glinted with something suspiciously alike curiosity, a flashing moment of undivided interest that had you flushing even hotter.

Oh yeah, you were in big, big trouble.

Three months later you no longer broke out in panicked sweating whenever Barnes came in for a fitting (most of the time). You’d had a total of four meetings so far, all of which had been professional, short and silent. Barnes hadn’t spoken more than a few words to you in all your time together in the lab, and none of them of much importance.

("Here?" he'd asked that first fitting when you’d asked him to take a seat on the surgical bench.

"No" he'd said when you asked if the new fastenings at his shoulder were uncomfortable.

"Yes", he'd said when you’d asked if the first prototype arm was lighter than what he was used to.

Other than that, the winter soldier mostly communicated in grunts, nods and shakes of his head.)

The hiss of the sliding door alerted you to his arrival as you were readying the newest prototype for the fitting, and just like always, the door was the only sound even hinting at his presence. He was impossibly silent for a guy his size.

“Sit down, please, I’ll be ready in a moment,” you threw over your shoulder, keeping your eyes on the clasps you would try on the shoulder today.

When he didn’t answer and you could hear no sound of the shifting padding on the surgical bench, you threw a look over your shoulder and froze.

Barnes stood by the bench, his one flesh arm raised high, fingers adjusting something on the…bun on the back of his head. His…bun of…gorgeous, thick locks of shaggy brown hair. You gulped, a tingling sensation of adrenaline starting to well up in your chest. He hadn’t worn his hair like that before, at least not around you, and man were you a sucker for a nice hair do on a man. Combined with this man it seemed to be suddenly and quite effectively lethal. His locks were collected and pulled away from his face, revealing high, chiseled cheekbones and a jawline that could cut diamonds and -

A screw fell out of your hand as your mind worked overtime to process the image before you, and then, so quickly you didn’t even see him move, the soldier was there, crouching at your feet, catching the screw before it could clink onto the floor.

It felt like an eternity went by as you stared at his bent form slowly straighten up up up to his full height, the screw looking more like a grain of sand in his big, calloused and rough hand, his body so close you swore you could feel the warmth radiating off him. The lulling scent of fresh earth and spices filled your nose, taking you to luscious lands far away.

You heard the hitch in your tiny, involuntary intake of air like a siren in a dead silent night, and your face blazed to a million fucking degrees, your heart galloping in your chest. Swallowing thickly, you looked up into his pale eyes - eyes that betrayed nothing in an equally neutral face.

Fuckfuckfuck, he’s so close. Fuck, his eyes are so blue, shit, he smells good, is that freckles on his cheek bones -

He held the screw out expectantly, and you mentally shook yourself for being so fucking slow. Stop ogling him! Take the screw! With fingers you were relieved to see didn’t tremble, you reached out and plucked it from his light grasp, furiously not hyperfocusing on where your skin grazed his.

“Um,” you started, and painfully cleared your throat before trying again, cheeks burning, “t-thanks. Please, sit.”

He stayed unmoving for half a second longer than was strictly necessary, and then he turned and moved to sit on the surgical bench.

Turning back to your table of tools, you took a few calming breaths, breathing as softly as you could in case the soldier could hear you (which he probably could quite well considering what you’d read about his enhanced body and senses.)

You turned back to find him watching you from a seated position on the bench, eyes following your movement as you walked up towards him, pulling your table behind you. You plastered on your best carefree smile and picked up the prototype vibranium arm, sleek black with silver accents, and like you always did, held it up so he could inspect it if he chose to. Like always, he didn’t seem remotely interested in the design. Only, he didn’t stare ahead out into the room like he usually did during these parts of the fittings. Instead his eyes remained on you, his form so fucking unmoving he could be a statue. You swallowed thickly, absurdly nervous. His scent still lingered in your mind.

He’d removed his shirt, revealing the new shoulder prosthesis in the same black as the arm, fitted to mold over his scarred tissue and make a clean transition from steel to skin. Your eyes caught on the tiny sliver of golden, muscled skin peeking out from where his white t-shirt had been cut above the shoulder, and you quickly averted your gaze even as your mind started conjuring images of wide expanses of soft, golden skin under the tips of your fingers as you explored under rays of soft, morning sunlight.

Why did he have to look so god damned good, with his stupid hair up in a stupid bun and stupid t-shirt that dared show even a square centimeter of his stupid skin, you thought perturbed as you started fitting the arm to the shoulder, hands working on autopilot while your mind frayed at the edges.

All through the fitting, you felt his eyes linger on you, not staring per se, just…observing. Three times you peeked up from your work to catch his eyes on yours, and three times you hastily averted your gaze back, your cheeks heating anew, your heart picking up speed. He’d never done that before. He’d always just stared at the floor or the wall during his fittings, eyes vacant, seemingly far far away. He’d never been fully present, never watched you, very rarely met your eyes. It was what had kept your own visceral reactions to such a minimum you could easily manage them. But now, under his weighty gaze, your body started tingling all over, sweat gathering on your brow, your breathing going just slightly too fast. You didn’t know if it was excitement or some instinctive fight or flight-reflex kicking into gear. Why was he looking at you like that?

“There,” you said just a little too hastily when at last the final screw was in place. You retreated to the other side of the room under the guise of organizing your tools back into their rightful place on the wall. “Please test it out, feel how it fits, tell me how it feels,” you said with your back to him, reciting the instructions you always gave him during this part of the fitting. Usually, you observed him closely as he walked around the room, lifting the arm, flexing the fingers and grabbing at random objects to test grip and reactivity. Now it was all you could do to not flee the room all together due to how embarrassingly flustered you were. The fittings in themselves weren’t really necessary from an engineering perspective - the royal technical institute all but guaranteed the highest mark of quality and a near zero percent chance of faults. The fittings were more beneficial from a psychological point of view - to give the subject a smooth transitional introduction to their new limb.

You heard him shuffling about for some time while you randomly moved tools and screws around your table while trying to collect and promptly ban all the inappropriate thoughts running wild in your head. It was so unprofessional to be affected like this! Sure, he was handsome (wildly so) but you couldn’t call yourself a proper scientist if you acted like this! It was disgraceful! Even as you scolded yourself for being this way around the poor, innocent hunk - SUBJECT - your mind flooded with the thoughts you tried so hard to keep at bay. What did his hair feel like sliding through your fingers? Did he always gaze so intently? What would those eyes look like in dark rooms surrounded by soft sheets? What would that new metal hand look like wrapped around your -

The sound of a throat clearing had you yelping - for fuck’s sake, girl - and whipping around to find him right behind you, looking down at you with that expression that betrayed nothing.

You stared up at him for a moment, heart thumping in your chest, stunned to silence by his clear initiation of contact, and then abruptly found your sense.

“Does it feel right? Is anything uncomfortable or -”

Your words died out as he extended the vibranium hand between you. He let it hover there, hand straight, expectant. You stared for a moment, and then praised yourself for daring to reach your own hand out to clasp his, a bit unused to the flip to using your left hand to shake his, hoping to God this was what he was getting at and that you didn’t just make a fool of yourself.

Your interpretation was correct, and the smooth, slightly cold metal closed around you, dwarfing your hand. The soldier squeezed your fingers and then shook your hand a bit stiffly a couple of times before stilling. You gulped, acutely aware of your heartbeat running a gallop in your chest, the silence around you so severe you could hear your own breathing like a wind tunnel. The feel of the vibranium, so alive in this form and shape, squeezing your fingers in a firm, unyielding grip had new, strange sensations slowly trickling south, and you fought the instinct to clench your thighs as unwelcome heat pooled in your lower stomach. Mortified by your own, inappropriate and decidedly unprofessional reaction, you hoped to all the dead kings and Bast herself that the soldier didn’t notice. Disturbingly, there came no sound from the soldier, not even from his breathing.

After a moment of nothing happening, the both of you just standing there, clasping hands, you dared a peek up at his face. He was watching you again, but instead of pale, dead eyes, the blue of his irises simmered with something…something hot and wicked and -

You abruptly pulled your hand out of his grasp, and gave him a far too fake gleeful smile. “Good grip,” you jipped, voice coming out far too strained and shrill to be casual. Barnes looked at you with those captivating eyes for a moment longer before looking down at his vibranium hand, flexing the fingers a little.

“It’s perfect,” he said.

It took you a moment to register the words, and then elation swept through you. You smiled and clapped your hands together and spun to go note his comment down. “How wonderful, I’m so glad,” you said, not able to keep the excitement out of your voice. A happy subject meant you’d fulfilled your task! The project could move onto its final stages of rendering and documentation. Happy progress! You scribbled down some fast notes on the screws and fastenings, how he’d tested grip by shaking your hands and his own feedback, putting his exact words down as a quote.

“The team will be so happy to learn you’re satisfied, they talked so much about the latest updates on the interface between sensory input and mechanical automobility - they wouldn’t shut up about it for days, I swear to Bast,” you said, the words falling out of your mouth in your excitement, and then you turned back towards him and again fell silent.

He was staring at you, and for the first time, you could actually detect emotions on his face. He looked…dumbfounded, or something akin to that, watching you with avid eyes, mouth slightly open and brows for once out of their trademark downturned frown. You were stunned yourself for a moment seeing him so out of character, and then you promptly lowered your gaze.

Oh great, first you’re fumbling and awkward and then you start rambling like a lunatic. What is wrong with you?, you asked yourself silently. You cleared your throat and motioned for him to sit back on the bench. He obliged, and you found yourself slightly disappointed to see him schooling away his emotion behind the stoic mask.

“So, I’ll have to take the arm off so it can be finalized, and then you’ll just have to have it fastened a final time, and then you’ll have your arm, Mr. Barnes,” you said as you got to work unscrewing and removing the prosthetic limb. He nodded, eyes glued to you like before. He didn’t seem happy, or if he was, he didn’t show it. You hoped he’d feel elated like you did, but considered how the whole metal arm thing might still be a little complicated for him. You wondered if he was going to a therapist, or a support group or anything. You didn’t dare ask, though. “I imagine the finalizing process won’t take much more than two weeks. I’ll send you a suggestion for the next appointment once it’s clear, and you can confirm using your compad like before. Sound good?” you asked, thankful you could keep a clear head through this part at least.

“Yes,” he said, still watching your eyes as you removed the arm and returned it to the table. You nodded to him, and managed to stay upright until the door hissed shut behind him as he left. Then you curled into a mortified little ball and hid your flaming face in your hands.

Fucking. Great.

Your heart had been hammering harder for every mile that passed as your cruiser made its way into the heart of the Wakandan landscape. The prosthetic arm had been finalized within a couple of days and your superiors thought the best course of action was sending you out to fasten it instead of demanding Barnes make his way into the capitol on such short notice. Which meant you were on your way to his home, to be completely alone with him…in his home.

Part of you was insatiably curious to see how he lived, to peer into such a private, revealing place. Everyone knew seeing how a person lived was like seeing a reflection of their soul. Your apartment for instance, was a hot fucking mess, but one you could navigate perfectly. You hadn’t allowed yourself to picture Barnes’s home, though, or make any assumptions. How he lived was of no scientific interest, and therefore no interest to you! Or so you told yourself, at least…

It’s fine. Everything is fine, you chanted in your head as the cruiser arrived at its destination, the small hut Barnes had been gifted as his indefinite residence. It was a beautiful place to keep a residence, right by the river, the surrounding trees providing plenty of shade from the hot sun and a gorgeous view over the plains. It only made you more curious about Barnes, and subsequently, more furious with yourself.

Everything is fine.

As you shut the motor down and climbed out of the vehicle, his large, burly figure emerged from the hut, and a spike of energy went off inside you as you locked eyes with Barnes. He was as stoic as ever, but he walked up to meet you right away and surprised you when he reached to grab the case with the arm in it to carry it for you.

“Hi,” you said, and quickly added, “um, thanks for being available at such a short notice.”

You’d felt kinda foolish for giving such a roomy deadline prognosis at his last fitting only for it to take a few days, and were sweating with the hope it hadn’t inconvenienced him in any way. There was a whole delicate, psychological process involved in getting a new limb - a process one shouldn’t meddle too much in - especially when there was significant trauma involved in losing the original limb. Fuck, you were so nervous.

He looked a bit puzzled for a moment, brows drawn down in consideration.

“No. Thank you for coming all this way,” he said a bit haltingly, and to your astonishment, he sounded almost as unsure of himself as you felt. Uncomfortable warmth spread in your chest. That must have been the longest sentence he’d ever spoken to you. His voice was low and gruff, a smooth rumble that seemed to vibrate through the ground, across to you and straight into your chest. Fuuck, how were you supposed to survive that voice, and with him being uncharacteristically timid and polite?

Suddenly you felt like laughing. Here you were, both of you so awkward and unsure, and what for? This was a joyous occasion, for Bast's sake, and you were being silly! Forcing your nerves down, you leveled him with a smile.

“Not at all. Let’s get that arm on, shall we?” you said, letting your actual excitement for the happening fill you instead. You were after all, genuinely excited to finally give Barnes his new prosthetic limb, and see him back to full mobility.

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes fluttering around your face, and then abruptly stepped aside and gestured for you to proceed him into the hut. You obliged, holding your spirits high as you dared venture past the curtain and inside the hut.

Barnes’s home was sparsely furnished but…surprisingly cozy. Brightly coloured pillows, blankets and tapestries lay everywhere, a window to the right letting in the bright, midday sun, casting a glowing light on everything. You recognised the patterns and color scheme from your own parents and grandparents houses, it was a traditional home in all senses of the words. You’d think Barnes would stick out like a sore thumb here, but really, he seemed to fit in well. There was a low table to the left with stacks of books and a mug on it, surrounded by more pillows and blankets. Your eyes caught on and swiftly ignored the cot at the back of the hut, made perfectly with a mountain of pillows.

That’s where he sleeps. That’s where he rests. That’s where he’s most vulnerable. That’s where you would lay if he - NO!

Barnes squeezed around you where you stood just inside the entrance studying the space, and you quite viscerally realized how small the hut was for the two of you, how small it was for him alone really. This was gonna be way more tight and intimate than the lab, you thought with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Barnes put the case down by the low table and proceeded to start clearing the table of books and pens and the mug. He looked down into the mug and then over at you.

“Coffee?” he asked, and taken aback by the unexpected question, you shook your head quickly before immediately regretting it. It would’ve been more polite to accept, and you did feel a bit strung out by your morning so far.

Barnes nodded in response, and then seemed at a loss, turning the mug in his hand. Was he…fidgeting?

“Where do you -?” he started, and you cut him off.

“Right there is fine. We can sit on the floor, no problem,” you said reassuringly, giving him another smile, suddenly filled with sweetness for this big hulk of a man and his nervous fidgeting. He nodded and proceeded to plump down where you assumed he normally sat. You quelled a smile at how normalcy seemed to bleed through even this exceedingly awkward situation, and was kind of enamored by the way Barnes seemed to relax once he was seated in his usual spot. It gave you the impression that this space was a comfort to him, which you were glad to see.

You neared and sat down on your knees at his side, opening the case and swiftly taking out everything you needed as he took off his shirt to reveal the same t-shirt he used to wear underneath, sleeveless on the left side. Without further ado, you started the process of permanently fastening the arm. You slipped into a calm concentration as you worked, the familiarity and comfort of your skills calming you, a comfortable silence descending upon you both, only interrupted by the sounds of your electric screwdriver. The whole thing took no longer than ten minutes, and then you sat back and looked upon Barnes in silence as he took in his new arm, knowing it was finally, and wholly, his.

He stared down at it for a long while, and then the hut was filled with sounds of gentle, almost silent whirring as he started flexing mechanical muscles, then fingers, then the whole arm, lifting it to examine and compare to his other arm, running them both through his loose hair and picking up different items on his table and tossing them lightly from hand to hand. He seemed completely engrossed, and for long minutes it seemed almost like he’d forgotten you were even there as he explored his new arm.

It was awe-inspiring to see, to be allowed to observe such a vulnerable moment, to witness him seemingly letting himself really connect to this new possibility of having two arms and two hands again, in a way he hadn’t even seemed to entertain while in the fittings. It touched something deep inside you, witnessing with honor what you hoped might be a moment of healing, and tears pricked the back of your eyes. It felt so incredibly moving to be part of a team that could give something like this to a person who’d been through so much hardship, and the feeling filled you, making you feel all warm. This was why you’d gotten into this field, this was why you wanted to be a scientist. To be able to help people recover precious things lost.

Your heart swelled with emotion, and then Barnes looked at you, his own astonished joy blasted clear across his face, completely unencumbered, letting you see it without any pretense or facades. Your breath caught in your throat at the sheer volume of his joy, and how intimate him sharing it so openly with you was. You were stunned.

And then you kissed him.

One moment you were looking at his broad smile full of slightly crooked, white teeth, and then you’d leaned across your own knees and half across his and unceremoniously pressed your lips to his. It was closed-mouthed and a bit off-center, your bottom lip caught awkwardly on his top one. But sparks crackled through your body all the same as you felt how soft his lips were, how warm his skin was, the slightly surprised gust of warm, gentle air from his nostrils.

And then your senses kicked in, mortification hot on their heels, and you broke the kiss abruptly, all but ready to flee the hut. You didn’t get the chance to move away though, before cool metal fingers slid up the sensitive skin of your throat and back to cup your neck, gently, but firmly pulling you right back into the kiss.

A fire caught in your loins, sizzling hot sparks shooting up your body and you drew in a shaky breath through your nose only for the air to be caught in your throat, making a small, needy, desperately embarrassing sound. The metal fingers on your neck tightened at the sound.

You felt completely blown off your center. Nothing had felt this good before, nothing in your whole, perfect life full of joys and pleasures and fulfillment had felt so sensationally good as James Buchanan Barnes's lips on yours while his brand new prosthetic hand cradled your neck.

The surge of desire that welled from that feeling propelled you to buck forward and crawl into his laps, straddling him with even more clumsy frenzy as you kissed him again. He answered in kind, his flesh hand landing tentatively on your hip before moving up your back to pull you tighter against him once he seemingly caught on to the fact that you were there in his lap of your own fruition.

You kissed again and again, hungry, exploring, closed-mouthed but growing more desperate, more daring. You opened your mouth to catch your breath and was met by the shy swipe of his tongue just inside your mouth, and your whole body shuddered at the sensation before you wrapped your arms around his neck and swiped your own tongue to meet his.

A growl came out of nowhere and exploded in Barnes’s chest as you tongue-kissed him with everything you had, and then the world was spinning, and your back hit the brightly earth-coloured rug. Barnes followed you closely, and laid down on top of you, pinning you down with his huge, burly body, claiming your mouth in an honest-to-Bast breath-taking kiss.

It was explosively good, this gorgeous, muscled beast of a man pinning you to the ground, broad shoulders shielding you from everything above, leaning on his elbows while his hands cradled your face, holding you perfectly still as his mouth descended upon yours again and again, growing hungrier with every kiss. Your mind whirled with images of his metal arm wrapping around your throat, pinning you down, tearing your clothes to shreds and holding you put exactly where he wanted while the soldier ravished you, and it became even harder to pull air into your flaming lungs. You heard yourself whimpering into the kisses, your own desperation growing like a galloping crescendo inside you. You were suddenly, unexpectedly, and totally irrationally ready for him to tear your clothes off and take you right there on the floor of his hut, heat flaming in your lower stomach, a molten ache starting to let itself be known between your legs, everything else in the world be damned and forgotten if you could just feel him ins -

A small beeping sound cut through the fog of desire overtaking you, and it took you a moment for your melting brain to recognise it as your pager. You wrenched out of the kiss and put your hands on Barnes’s broad, warm chest, feeling his strong heartbeat jackhammer beneath the layers of clothes and flesh. His lips followed you for a split second, his eyes opening to slits in order to find you again. Then, as he realized you’d intentionally ended the kiss, he immediately let you push him half-way off you to fish the pager out of your pocket. It was your boss, they needed you back by lunch.

Fuck

Fuck, what the fuck were you doing? It dawned on you the incredibly inappropriate situation you were in, had put yourself and Barnes in. This was reckless and rash and completely not who you were or had ever been. With anyone! No, no, no, this was bad, you were so fucking stupid. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes as you pushed him gently all the way off you to sit back on his haunches and swiftly extracted yourself from under him and got to your feet.

You were mortified, absolutely mortified, shame and embarrassment and guilt washing over you in tidal waves, slamming into your chest.

“I’m so sorry, that was so…um…I have to go, but er, enjoy your hand - ARM and hand,” you sputtered out as you began fleeing the hut all together. Then you remembered what you were supposed to say upon leaving, and turned while halfway out the door, “If you have any trouble or complications, don’t hesitate to contact the institute. On behalf of the technical institute and design group, we hope you will be pleased with the product. Um, bye!”

Barnes remained in the same seated position on the floor while you made your stumbling exit, and you missed the look of longing in his eyes as you left.

A week passed while you marinated in your own embarrassment and guilt, trying and failing to get the whole incident in the hut out of your mind. Partly because it was the most unprofessional and out-of-control thing you’d ever done, and partly because you just couldn’t get the memory of Barnes’s lips out of your head. The warmth emanating from him like a furnace, the way his hands gripped you gently, but possessively, the thrill that had gone through you when he flipped you and pinned you to the floor like you were nothing more than a rag doll. Had he been as turned on as you? Had he enjoyed himself? Surely he’d enjoyed it a little bit with the way he’d reciprocated, but had he really wanted it?

You shook yourself out of your daydream for probably the dozenth time that day, not a single word written on the personal essay you were to turn in with your other documentation in a couple of days. Fuuuck, this was so bad, you had to be able to focus and put this from your mind! If you were lucky and if everything went as it should with the prosthetic, Barnes would have no reason to contact the institute and seek you out ever again, and you would never have to see him again after your blunder.

The project would be over soon, you would move on to new ones and the one tether you had to Barnes would be severed. It was best for everyone if you just forgot the whole thing.

Except, in your panicked flight from his home, you’d completely forgotten the case that had contained the prosthetic arm, along with some screws and your most beloved screwdriver. You hadn’t even noticed it was left behind until you were halfway back to the lab, and had been completely at a loss on what to do. You couldn’t go back after the way you’d left, but you couldn’t just leave it either. The equipment wasn’t of that much value and the lab had plenty more, so that wasn’t the greatest issue. But you loved that screwdriver, and felt it as an obligation to retrieve it. Plus, it wasn’t fair to just leave it there, in Barnes’s home, what use did he have of it? Still, you couldn’t bear the thought of going back after the way you’d left….

Your head thumped down onto the workbench at the back of your lab. You were spiraling down the rabbit hole of warring thoughts for the upteenth time that day and was about to hurl something at the wall when the clearing of a throat came out of nowhere.

Whipping your head up, you practically leapt from your chair when you saw Barnes standing in the middle of your lab, clad in light pants and a loose-fitting half-sleeved shirt, completely unexpected, looking exceedingly unsure of himself (...and obscenely gorgeous)

Your immediate thought went to his arm, but as far as you could see, it was still intact and working perfectly from the way he clenched and unclenched the vibranium hand at his side. Then your eyes slipped to his other hand, and saw the case he held in it.

“I, um, hello, I thought you might like this back,” he said, looking down and holding out the hand with the case. You immediately walked up to him and took it.

“Thank you! So much, you didn’t have to come all this way just for that,” you rushed to say, feeling sheepish and grateful at the same time.

“Oh no, I, uh…I…I have some errands in the… uh, the city and whatnot,” he said, and you almost smiled a little at the way he suddenly fumbled for words. Was this even the same guy that had pinned you to the floor and ravished your mouth a week ago? The same guy that had walked into the lab that first day, all menacing silence and calculated movement.

“Oh, okay, well, this was really nice of you, thank you again. Um, what did you say to the guards to get in here?” you asked, suddenly remembering the levels of clearing he had to go through to get here. Did he tell the truth? Would your superiors know you forgot the case? That you’d made a fool of yourself and made the whole institute look chaotic and unprofessional?

“I told them I had some more questions about the arm, and that I wanted to speak with you since you’re so knowledgeable and good at your job,” Barnes said, waving his metal hand in the air a little as if to show you it was indeed made of vibranium.

He’d protected you? Kept your secret? A warm sense of giddyness spread through you, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling to broadly.

“God, you didn’t have to tell them all that,” you said, feeling warmth bloom on your cheeks from his compliments.

“I meant it, though,” he said seriously, and then he took a step towards you, “And I wanted to, needed to apologize…for what happened at my house…last week.”

Your heart surged in your chest and you couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. Apologize? What could he have to apologize for? You were the one who’d acted out of line. Did he regret what’d happened? What if you’d overstepped his boundaries and added more to his trauma?

“No, no, please, I’m the one who should apologize here. It was completely unprofessional to do that when I was working on a project with you, and so inappropriate to force myself upon you like that, all in this emotional moment and without knowing if you’d enjoy it or -”

“I enjoyed it,” he interrupted, voice clear and strong.

You looked up to find him another step closer. So big, and strong, and handsome, your insatiable desire whispered to you as he gazed down into your eyes, only inches between you. You wanted to kiss him again suddenly, your lips tingled with it.

“You did?” you asked, only half paying attention as you lost yourself in his heavenly baby blue eyes, framed by thick lashes paled by the sun. Your eyes flicked down to his full lips, and when they went back to his eyes, they glinted with a spark of that same ferociousness that’d awakened in him on that floor in his hut. A glint that had your lower stomach going all molten.

He nodded, breathing a little laugh that surprised you. Your heart started soaring in your chest despite your best efforts to keep from getting ahead of yourself.

“Yeah,” he breathed, swallowing and licking his lips, “a lot. I, uh, I was really sorry to see you leave so abruptly too - before I could speak with you,” he said.

Arousal welled up in your body, and you felt a little dizzy all of a sudden. He’d enjoyed it…

“Me too,” you whispered, not trusting your voice not to crack.

He took a final, tiny step closer, too close for any kind of professionalism or even decency, really, so close you could almost sense the atoms sparking to life in the tiny space between your bodies. Just like that, you were back in his hut, the moment swelling to level with the heavy, sizzling churn of when he'd flipped you to the carpet and caged you in underneath him. He had such a presence, his body thrumming with life and power and fuck, you wanted it on top of you. Again.

“I’m relieved to hear that. And,” he said, slowly reaching his flesh hand to tentatively cup your neck, hot and possessive in one, tender gesture, his calloused thumb coming up to stroke over your jaw, the intimate touch sending fireworks through your nervous system, ”though I don’t want to disrespect your work ethic, I’d like to point out that we’re not working on the same project anymore, so if you’d like to -”

The case hit the floor with a loud bang the moment you wrapped your arms around Barnes’s neck and threw yourself into his arms, your lips meeting in a sizzling kiss. Barnes caught you around the waist and hauled you up into his arms, your feet dangling off the ground as he crushed you to his chest, returning the kiss tenfold.

His tongue was immediately in your mouth this time, licking hot and wet and dominatingly over your own, and you whimpered at the sheer intensity, the way it blazed to a fire in your loins.

You clung to him like your life depended on it, and moaned into his mouth as you felt him turn and lower you to the bench in the lab, not letting much space get in between you before he draped himself over you and continued putting his mouth to yours. Your hands found their agency and started moving, mapping out his shoulders, feeling the muscle ripple under your fingertips as you caressed down his chest and around his sides to stroke his long, chiseled back.

His loose cotton shirt rode up as he moved to step further in between your opening legs, pressing himself closer, and your hands were unable to resist the pull as your fingers met the hot flesh of his lower back, stroking over silky smooth skin up again under his shirt.

His whole body shuddered against you, a small gasp emanating from him as he broke the kiss, and your excitement went through the roof. You opened your eyes and stared at his expression going lax, eyes closing and mouth hanging slightly open as you continued your caress up his back. You hooked your hands over his shoulder and pulled him down to you again, nibbling on his lip before kissing his open mouth, your fingertips dancing in swirling patterns down his back.

His body shuddered again.

“Oh my god,” he whispered a little breathlessly against your mouth, mostly to himself it seemed, and your discovery made you almost feverish with desire.

He was sensitive, and probably more than a little touch-starved.

You brought your hands forward and found the top button on his shirt, staring to undo it as you breathed into each other's mouths. You’d gotten to the third one when Barnes gave a (admittedly adorable) little huff of impatience and pulled free to wrench his shirt over his head, revealing a sculpted torso right out of your wettest dream. You had to take a moment just to stare at him, hard abs, flat stomach, pecs that stretched into rounded, muscled, obscenely broad shoulders. Tight, sculpted muscles that shone in the dimmed, bluish fluorescents of the ceiling lights, one muscled arm with prominent veins running down to a calloused hand, one arm reflecting the lights in shiny, sculpted, black vibranium.

His chest rose and fell with his labored breath, his abs flexing, the muscles of his torso and arms tensing and shifting as he stood before you and it was just so different from the statuesque, almost frugal way he’d moved before, when he only exerted energy at the utmost importance. This man was alive in a completely different way. And he was looking at you like he wanted to devour you.

You’d barely raked your eyes up to his and caught the feral glint in his eyes before he was on you again, ripping your lab coat open and sliding his hands up and down your sides. His touch sent shivers of warmth through you and you moaned into his mouth as he kissed you. That only seemed to spur him on. When his hands slid under the cotton sweater you wore, exploring the folds and dips of your abdomen, you shuddered. He was touching you like he hadn’t touched anyone before, all curious and explorative with just the hint of inexperienced clumsiness, fingers curious for such a mundane thing as the fold of skin over your ribcage as you lay there crouched beneath him.

Bast, you needed more, his touch sending you into a frenzy. You wanted him, all of him.

You started awkwardly extracting your arms from your lab coat, and when Barnes caught on, he was more than willing to help you shed it before his fingers went to the hem of your sweater. He paused then, and looked into your eyes for permission. You nodded, a bit eagerly perhaps, but whatever.

He slowly slid the fabric of your sweater up your torso, and in a move more gentle than you’d anticipated from the way he removed his own clothes, he bent down and tentatively kissed your stomach - right on your tummy, soft kisses following the fabric up. It stole your breath away as you watched the movement avidly.

He pushed the fabric all the way up over your bra, and reached with a curious hand to tug the cup down, revealing a hardened nipple. You were nearly shaking with want at this point, and shuddered embarrassingly hard when he took the nipple in his mouth and swiped his hot, wet tongue on it, nibbling gently and curiously with his teeth until you shuddered again.

You let your hands wander and found his hair, finally, finally getting to feel the soft, straight locks of hair sift through them, basking in the opportunity after having snuck peaks at it for months. It was even silkier than you’d imagined, despite its shaggy appearance. You combed your hands through his hair as he moved to suck on your other nipple, pulling the cup of your bra down to free your breast to the open air of the room.

Scraping your nails over his scalp, you felt the way his form trembled atop you, and he almost purred, a deep, rumbling groan vibrating through you and into the very bench beneath you. You scraped over his scalp again and bit your lip as it elicited another rumble.

He let your nipple go, puffy and a shade darker than usual from his bullying, and you watched the string of saliva connect it to his lips with a blush burgeoning on your face. Oh, this might get filthy, you thought to yourself, almost embarrassed by how much you liked it when he closed the distance between you and licked into your mouth again, seemingly not caring about his spit getting everywhere, the kiss messy and wet.

There was a tell-tale hard bulge pressing against the heated spot between your legs, and you rolled your hips down on it. Barnes gasped out of the kiss, looking almost shocked as he quickly looked down between your bodies to where he was pressed against you, and you wondered if he might’ve forgotten where all of these horny urges came from. You rolled your hips into him again, experimentally, and watched as realization hit him, as his eyelids drooped and a tiny groan escaped him. Then he rolled his hips to meet yours and it was your time to groan.

“Just like that,” you whispered encouragingly, and met his gaze as he returned his eyes to yours, watching you intently as he rolled his hips again and again, grinding himself between your legs.

He felt…big, to say the least, and he was grinding against your clothed clit in a way that you knew had you gushing into your panties. You could already feel the fabric getting soggy, sliding along your flesh as Barnes widened his step and grinded against you with more grounded precision.

Fuck, it felt so good it was getting hard to think, and when his - oh god - vibranium hand slid down your side to grab your hip, effortlessly pinning you down into the bench so he could grind even harder against your core, the breath in your lungs fucking punched out of you. You knew just how much strength was packed into that metal arm. Knew there was a fine line between using too much strength and keeping you pinned firmly enough so you couldn’t move your hips an inch. Barnes traversed that line perfectly.

Your pussy was on fire, the grinds of Bucky’s big, hard bulge against your clit too much while - simultaneously - the layers of clothes between you made it somehow not enough. It had been so long since you’d just frotted, clothed, like this, and you now wondered how you could’ve forgotten how fucking good it felt - or if it’d ever felt this good at all before. You seriously doubted it, for you couldn’t really believe it, but the rhythm and weight of Bucky's hips while his mouth lowered to mouth at your neck was somehow actually propelling you towards the edge.

You tried to move your hips to grind back, to make him go faster, harder, but found yourself utterly - and deliciously - fully at his mercy as he nuzzled the crook of your neck and laved his tongue on your skin, tasting it in that fascinating curiosity of his.

Fuck, it was right there, you could feel it, he was gonna make you come, you just needed a little more.

Through the haze of your impending, building release, you could hear yourself start to whimper. Needy and a little embarrassing, the sounds escaping you despite you biting your lip and clutching at Barnes’s shoulders, barely holding on as he hurled you towards that precipice.

His face suddenly appeared from the crook of your neck, and it took you a second to realize he had a look of confused concern on his face as he looked down on you.

To your utter distress, his hips slowed their steady, hard thrust against yours, and he gave you a once over you had a hard time understanding. Then it hit you that he must be concerned he’d done something wrong; that he’d mistaken your sounds of need for ones of pain or that you didn’t want it or something utterly ridiculous like that. Sweet, respectful, slightly confused and apparently wildly inexperienced man, you thought with an almost woeful endearment. You could feel yourself slipping further under the power of his spell as his eyes returned to your face, flitting about to try and decipher your expression.

That elusive orgasm you were dancing up to started to slip away as his hips grinded to a halt, and you reached out to cradle his face in near panic.

“No, please, please, please don’t stop. It’s so good, please,” you practically whined, trying to move your own hips to get more of that sweet, intoxicating friction. You barely managed a little squiggle under the pinning strength of his hand on your hip and his body on top of yours.

A great gust of breath whooshed out of him, and he started up his rhythm again almost immediately, meeting your tiny writhing with thrusts of his own like he just couldn’t help it, and you threw your head back, biting your lip and nodding frantically as the pleasure built inside you again, picking up just behind where you’d left off.

His hand, the one of flesh, slid up your torso to caress the exposed column of your neck, almost curiously, exploring, holding it in an almost tender grip as you moaned in delirium. His thrust grew harder, your moans louder and his hand gripped harder like he enjoyed the feeling of your moans being forced from you by his moving hips.

You could tell the moment he started climbing his own precipice, how his movement grew more focused, more intent, leaving all exploration behind to chase a goal with an almost singular, feral possession. His breaths turned to gasps, which turned to grunts and then low growls. His movement turned frantic, almost feral in their one mindedness. He was losing himself to the pleasure and you whined, mind turning to slush under the onslaught of his ferocity. You were going dumb on his cock and he hadn’t even taken it out of his pants. Didn’t matter, you were done for.

The wild, animalistic abandon with which he chased his own high was so blastingly hot it sent you tumbling over the edge almost entirely on its own. You gasped, your body tensing and then exploding under his as his grinding thrusts sent wave upon wave of searing, orgasmic bliss crashing into you, riding you so hard you nearly passed out.

Your sight went blurry, blood roaring in your ears, but you heard the moment his breath caught in his throat, such a vulnerable sound, and then the bulge pressed to the sticky, clothed cunt between your legs started throbbing in an uneven, staccato rhythm, which you could feel against you even through the layers of clothing separating you. His grip turned to bruising steel and you gasped anew as the intensity of the pain mixed with your abating orgasm, making a shocking, intoxicating cocktail of sensation blast through you.

He threw his head back, the thick column of his neck stretching taut, and growled like he was in pain, and it sent vibration straight through you down to the table beneath you. Fuck, he was like nothing you’d ever experienced - pure, raw power, lust, shocking honesty and a sense of almost ardent fascination - mixed together in this anomaly and mystery of a man.

It felt like several minutes passed as you tried to catch your breath and gather your mind from where it’d melted out of your ears to puddle on the bench around you. Bucky’s face had made its way into the crook of your neck, where he seemed just as slow and sluggish to come back down to earth. He was like a furnace on top of you, even hotter from his exertion, forehead damp and hot where it pressed to the sensitive skin of your neck.

His weight on you was a comforting one though, making you feel safe and protected, covered and nestled into a cocoon of muscles and warmth and soft, puffing breaths. Taking a cheeky chance, you carded a hand through his hair, the brown strands soft, glinting in the fluorescents above as they shifted through your fingers. Bucky’s whole form shivered as you raked your fingernails along his scalp, and the bulge nestled tight between your thighs and his body throbbed once as he grunted softly, neck twisting to push his head into your hand, almost like a cat rubbing against your palm to get more scritches.

A chuckle left your mouth as you kept carding your hand through Bucky’s hair. He looked up at you then, and the moment caught up with you. A blush had the audacity of spreading on your cheeks even after everything you’d just done. He looked into your eyes, silent but for your deep, still slightly labored breaths. You couldn’t help smiling.

He looked a little dazzled for a moment, then a slow, beautiful smile spread on his own lips to answer yours.

"Um, it's been a long time, and I d-don't remember much, but I'm pretty sure this is not how you court a lady properly," he said a bit self-deprecatingly. You chuckled again, and he joined, his form vibrating with myrth. He made no move to get off you though. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I don't know, this doesn't feel too bad," you said, and you could practically feel the relief in Bucky as he let you keep him laying draped across you.

"Still. I'd like to take you out sometime. It was the real reason I came here, after all," he said.

You felt your smile turn wry.

"I thought you said you had errands...and whatnots," you said.

His gaze wavered for only a moment as he realized he'd revealed his own bluff. Then his smile grew sheepish, and so warm it sizzled.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x wakandan!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader

958 notes · View notes

thepalerimitation · 2 months

Text

Most Controversial Doctor Who Opinions I have:

Eleven was wild as FUCK for marrying River and then acting like they had an awesome relationship. It would’ve been better to have more Twelve River than whatever that was.

If Clara did half the shit Rose did, y’all would be tearing your hair out. Clara was the most complex character and you fell for Moffats silly little trap of thinking she was selfish. THATS THE WHOLE POINT.

Ten was a bigger asshole than Nine and the only reason people think differently is because Nine owned it and Ten acted like it never happened and you believed him.

The whole River being the daughter of Amy was so unbelievably stupid to me. Boooooooo make her an enigma. Make her mysterious and unknowable. We don’t need to know…woman of mystery.

Clara was the love of Twelve’s life but I am unbelievably glad that she and Bill never met because then Twelve would have to explain how one mid twenties woman was like his granddaughter and the other was like his cougar girlfriend.

I am a hater of the “bring along the boyfriend trope” in Doctor Who. Only two situations where this worked was Rory because Rory was iconic and Danny Pink watching the Doctor openly flirt with Clara. (That last one only works because he immediately died).

If we’re going to do so much slapping, Moffat, let’s have some stabbing too. Cmon, stabbing.

#doctor who #twelfth doctor #peter capaldi #twelveclara #clara oswald #twelve #david tennant #eleventh doctor #tenth doctor #river song #rose tyler #amy pond #steven moffat

315 notes · View notes

d4rkpluto · 2 months

Text

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔤𝔬𝔡𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔱𝔶𝔭𝔢

[I AM FOLLOWING AYESHA K.FAINES RESEARCH OF FEMININE ARCHETYPES]

↳ the sexual feminine archetype of the mystic archetype.

♇ when your percentage of the lover percentage is lower than 70%. and when your personal score matches with your percentage goddess the most. [your lover archetype is dominant and the mystic archetype is the second dominant too].

♇ the goddess is one of the sexual feminine archetypes that belong to the feminine archetype the mystic, whereas the other sexual feminine archetype is the enigma.

♇ people who belong to the goddess archetype are perceived to be sultry women, women who have an ethereal and laid-back essence which could be considered hypnotic and mesmerising to those around them. they have a type of emotional manner that keeps the people around them at arms-length.

♇ when developed, those who belong to the goddess archetype have an emotional intelligence that could be considered wise, and due to this, they might appear other-worldly to other people. even if they're people who are emotionally smart, due to them being distant to other people, they come off as aloof, but it is usually because they're focusing on themselves.

♇ as majority of them are naturally introverted, they are people who like solitude and isolation, sometimes like a hermit. and most of the times, they like to tend to hobbies that help them search inward, such as meditation.

♇ though, even though if they're introverted, they still like attention, they like being surrounded by their friends and loved ones.

♇ their appearance can come off as striking and to pair it off, they have a personality which could be perceived as distinct. as i have mentioned, goddess women like inner peace, so they tend to be interested in spirituality, connecting to something that is greater to them helps them feel comfortable, safe and protected.

♇ their most private area, where they feel the most comfortable is their home. it helps them keep a grounded energy. people find their energy to be alluring and pleasant, and even more enchanting and people find them to be at their most magnetic is when they're disappeared from the public, specifically when they're a celebrity. a good example, is alexa demie.

♇ she is known to hide in the shadows a lot, and sometimes, well actually majority of the times, it has people wondering what she actually wants for her career. an example can be seen in this video.

♇ overall, goddess women are stars, even said by Ayesha her self, they're a star light years away, and only a few people can see their qualities.

♇ when close to their loved ones, they appeal and encourage their dreams and future wants. when they're closed to the people they care about, they're like a warmer version of a siren, which could be considered a "mermaid". a calm mystic essence, an aura that can make people want to be around them more.

♇ the description of a goddess woman can include them having a sultry voice and lush hair. they're women who take care of their appearance as how they look likely matters to them a lot.

♇ on one hand, they can become people too fixated on other things that cut them off from their comfortability. and since they are people who attract all kinds of people, one of them being curious individuals, they sometimes get overwhelmed and get into hiding. underdeveloped goddess women sometimes are not able to express their creative and "erotic" energy.

♇ majority of the time, goddess women are peaceful and humanitarians. they're likely feminists and stand for a cause. and when speaking to them or hearing them speak, you'd realise they're usually kindly spoken people, very articulate.

♇ other people might see them as a young soul, or someone who brings refreshing energy. artistic energies, when fully developed they can easily bring their ideas to life.

♇ they like things that touch their soul, attracted to things that help them understand their roots and are not afraid to face their inner-depths. sometimes underdeveloped goddess women might fear to face their inner-depths to please other people in their life, to be a walking matt for them.

♇ as i did more research about goddess women, i understood that they can be deeply in touch with spirituality, and like to be very private. other people around them could sometimes feel like they cannot or dont live up to their potential. and sometimes this could lead people into thinking that they're stupid.

♇ they have a dreamy way of speaking, and even sometimes drag out their words. when they dont see themselves as the high value they are, they could get into relationships with people that dont really fit with their political views, specifically feminism.

♇ when it comes to their clothing, they like to wear garments that define their personality. could like aesthetics that are dark or portrays their femininity in a "broken" way. specifically lana del rey. most of them are into the vintage aesthetic, and have a style that other people want to replicate. [gabriette and alexa demie specifically].

♇ they're very expressive about their likes and dislikes, and most of the people i've watched are into getting tattoos, or are interested in having things that make their physique stand out.

♇ most of them have a strong connection with their mother and make-up, and sometimes they might allow make-up to help value themselves.

♇ goddess women understand that women can be many things, and can express themselves in ways the patriarchy dont want them to be elevated in. as they're seen as glamorous, they like to look good as they're usually under the spotlight. many goddess women have a popular partner, or even if their partner is unknown, they could be a respected person with an authoritative position. sometimes their partners could be their complete opposite.

♇ whenever goddess women are under the spotlight, the usually get meme'd a lot, or just whenever they do anything people speak about it. they could sometime feel suffocated by fame.

♇ as goddess usually represents fertility, it's not a surprise that most goddess women are into having a family of their own. but even if they want a family of their own, it doesnt mean they dont want to work, as i did research, i realised most goddess women were/are into modelling.

♇ they like to pursue a route that gives them happiness, so people in their social circle could think of them to be stubborn. they're usually questioned for their ideas and how they embrace their heritage and roots, and since they're usually questioned a lot, goddess women step into a role of being self-aware.

♇ some goddess women could be into cosmetic surgery, and can be a bit [but almost too much] into heteronrimity.

♇ their intelligence and beauty could be envied, they're open about their sexuality and most people look up to them for guidance. when doing research about them, i realised that a lot of them have been victim of sexual shaming, [even though many people have been in general, this has also happen to some of my friends who do belong to this archetype].

♇ when it comes to their appearance, a lot of them have doe/bug eyes, have luscious hair, they also have an earthly and natural type of beauty, which can make them be deemed as elegant and graceful.

♇ they like to be prepared for anything, especially career wise. and women who belong to the goddess archetype like to experience almost everything with their partner. sometimes might be seen as someone who is smothering. on the other hand, even though they like to be around their partners a lot, they also like to be private.

♇ and in a friendship group, they might be seen as the mother of the group, or you could say leader of the group. can be into making food, and also specifically the art of it. unlike the mother archetype, they dont only/mainly do it for their partner, they do it for themselves, their friends and the people they care about.

other goddesses ↴

♇ goddesses i put above are eva peron, cindy crawford, dita von teese, jisoo, grace kelly and melania trump.

♇ understanding the goddesses archetype, is that it shows that they are women who are usually do focus on themselves, and can be so to themselves to the point that other people might feel like they do not know them at all.

♇ and to make the goddesses archetype easier to comprehend i gathered characters from different tv shows or films that come under the archetype.

♇ from yellow jackets - lottie matthews, lottie. is a big example of an underdeveloped goddess archetype, though it isnt necessarily her fault due to the trauma she has gone through while stuck in the wilds. she is a very spiritual person, and even isolates herself with other people to find herself. but due to her spiritual nature, people easily found way to see her as a leader and was advised for her guidance, during the time the team were stuck in the woods, lottie was seen as somewhat as a mother [not to be confused as the mother archetype as they are striking differences between the two]. she helps other people express their emotions and speaks about spirituality that could make other people uncomfortable.

♇ from the maden men franchise - betty draper, her character strengthens my idea that a lot of goddess archetypes are models, as she was a model for a print ad. she is a character who gets with a romantic partner that has authority, her romantic partner, don who is a completely different person to her, made betty express versions of herself that she disliked and wanted to change for the better.

♇ we have the addams family - morticia addams, for the fictional goddess women, morticia addams is a patron saint of what a goddess archetype is. her husband, gomez kisses the floor she walks on, morticia is a seductress and has a striking appearance that fascinates other people and makes other want to replicate her style, in real life [like vanessa hudgens] and in the show, wednesday. she is soft spoken, almost dreamy like and could be considered as laid-back and ethereal.

♇ from the postman always rings twice - cora smith, a mysterious woman who is married to someone who has authority, [an older man]. is perceived as a character that can also be deemed as an underdeveloped goddess archetype, who uses the love a man has for her to aid her to kill her husband.

♇ the fall of house usher - verna, another mysterious woman who does keep people at arms length, people come to her to have once in a life time deal, she uses her erotic energy to lure people in and capture them. she is wise, and has a calm essence that makes people comfortable around her. verna is prepared for everything and knows how to handle obstacles like how the two siblings, specifically the man went against her deal and hunted everyone in the usher family down.

♇ we have from the infernal devices and shadow hunter chronicles - tessa gray/herondale, like the other goddess archetype, tessa gray has a romantic partner who has high authority from the novel she is from. will herondale is the leader of the clave and is well respected. aside from that, tessa is usually under the spotlight because of what she is, and is seen to be someone who is serene, wise and has a warm energy that has many people want to be around her, but as she gets older, she does keep people at an arms length. in the early books, fertility was a big theme for her, as she was unsure if she could have children because of her being a half-demon. like a goddess archetype, tessa herondale has a grounded energy and has a striking beautiful appearance that other say is unconventional.

♇ from lore olympus/greek lore - selene, being a goddess herself, selene is someone who is respected and under the spotlight as she is a prominent and important figure for those who worship her, and like most women from the goddess archetype, she is someone who wants to have many moments with her loved ones, like endymion. a deity of fertility, she is someone who likes to keep in the shadows unlike her brother, helios who is considered to be flashy. selene has a personality that could be deemed as peaceful and timid like most women under this personality type.

♇ from the witcher franchise - yennefer of vengerberg, fertility was a big element to her character, as having a child was something she was not able to do, but with geralt, ciri was able to be her child surprise. and like the other goddess archetypes, yennefer is seen with a partner of authority/power, and it being geralt. her beauty is perceived as other-worldly, and becoming [beautiful], and powerful was so important to her that she constructed herself to become a better version of herself in a painful manner. there was a moment of the show, [i'll play the games later], that there had to be much internal search because she had lost her powers for a brief moment.

♇ next from legacies, there is josie saltzman - looking within herself was a big theme for her character, because she was known to be a character who was in her twin sister's shadow, lizzie for a long time; to the point that other characters had almost forced her to become a better version of herself, and even stand up for josie to her sister. josie was almost like a glass child. her main relationship, or most known one, is with someone who is the opposite of her, penelope, someone who had high authority within the boarding school she was in. even though josie is timid and shy, she is very emotionally intelligent, which is why people like to be around her a lot. she is understanding and empathetic.

♇ lastly, there is a character from winx club, aisha - in the show aisha is one of the main characters who gave advice to other people, sometimes she can be perceived as the mother of the group, [once again, to not be thought as the mother archetype]. when aisha was younger, aisha was isolated, which kind of made her into someone who is explosive and has a strong temper. and when. the series began, aisha was seen as anti-social, but when she is gotten to know more, the people around her are more aware of her open-minded traits.

♇ as i have done my research, i gathered that a lot of enigmas are are likely going to have capricorn, taurus and scorpio in their big six; in order of how much they appeared.

♇ they are also going to have leo, aries and taurus appear in their dominant signs; in order of how much they appeared.

♇ the planets sun, saturn and moon appeared in their dominant planets the most; in order of how much they appeared.

♇ the element that appeared the most was fire, second was earth.

♇ lastly, when it comes to the modality, what appeared the most was fixed.

♇ feminine archetype masterlist

to find out what feminine archetype and sexual feminine archetype you are

buy a natal chart reading from me

masterlist

♇ pluto

271 notes · View notes

inquebrar · 4 months

Text

late night thoughts in the midst of 60 days without spiderbit, q!Cellbit talking about not being interested in having sex right after getting married to q!Roier (since what usually is expected to happen is the "honeymoon") and how this situation was handled in such a light and tender way it's something that lives in my mind rent free and it impacted me so deeply that every time i rewatch it i feel like biting my own arm crying and screaming with happiness.

like, the wedding had just ended, they went to the castle together, to their home, and then when q!Cellbit says "i don't know if that's a problem with you" i immediately held my breath without even realizing and waited to see what q!Roier's reaction would be and there was no joke, no mockery or uncomfortable comment, in fact it was the most incredible response possible this whole scene is absolutely wonderful. q!Cellbit says "it's ok, right? i thought it would be okay but i mean, i thought we should talk" and then "but like, we can still sleep together i'm just not gonna make sex" and this part makes me want to explode because while q!Cellbit is saying that q!Roier lets out an aww and then he says "yes, you know, it's not only sex it's not only mwah mwah mwah (kissing), it's to have time with each other and maybe we can play enigma do medo together!" he not only reaffirmed that a relationship is not just based on making out but he also suggested what they can do during their honeymoon, they can spend time together and play games and then sleep together to rest.

and to me it's so important that this is something constant and meaningful in q!Cellbit and not just something that is used superficially in the character, like when he met q!Philza and he talked about his platonic relationship with q!Missa, q!Cellbit's reaction was "ah, in an asexual way?" and then how after starting his relationship with q!Roier when people made sexual insinuations he always said "nah, i don't like doing that" and once in a fun talk with q!Pol who said that q!Roier is very "libidinous" and "promiscuous" q!Roier replied like "wait do you only think about these things? life isn't always like that, you know? it's about love, coexistence and tenderness"

and then several other little moments, like when q!Roier was showing off his spider-man outfit in a sensual and flirting way, lying on the floor like "so... what do you think?" and q!Cellbit replied "oh i liked it, do you like spider-man a lot? have you seen the new animation movie or not yet?" or when q!Roier was making the joke that he was hungry (horny XD) and q!Cellbit was like "i can't believe this, here i am thinking about making something for us to have dinner together, a romantic dinner and you thinking about that..." and q!Roier was like "give me d*ck" 🗣️HAUSHSKSHDJSK or when they started making sex jokes like "yeah we were having sex, a lot of sex" meanwhile they were just construting together and spending time with each other AARRGH idk man i just love them so much and them having a relationship based on trust and love above all else is so significant

#spiderbit #oh how i miss them 😭#saudadeeee #los extraño muchoo #q!cellbit my gay ace cubito please come back home #q!roier my beloved aroace ally i need you come back please #qsmp cellbit #qsmp roier #q!cellbit #q!roier #guapoduo

317 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

evolutiontr12-blog

Untitled

spidey1610

cindy moon wifeguy

thislovintime

This Lovin' Time

ohyaknowthedm

My Dnd Page

zuuskova

we can't stop