#Angular best practices | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saturnsbabyboii · 10 months

Text

🍓Synastry Astro Observations🍓

(Cause I haven't been active for three months)

🍓Regardless of the sign a planet is in, it is important to check the aspects it makes to other planets. This is especially the case for synastry charts and readings as aspects create an activation that can enhance, block or overturn the energy of said planets.

🍓People with Sun conjunct Sun aspect are very competitive with one another. This is usually exasperated when one or both have this aspect in a Fire house.

🍓Natives with Mars squaring others Neptune are usually challenging people realities. For the Mars native, the Neptune person is usually a cause of drama or someone that is petty or inauthentic. The Mars person can easily see through the Neptune person facade. However positively, the Neptune person can soothe the Mars native, despite their defensiveness. For the Neptune native on the other hand, this could be a relationship where the Mars person helps them overcome and outgrow harmful cycles, or actualize their dreams. Worst case, the Mars person is very harmful to the Neptune native mental health and psyche. They could be an abuser of sorts.

🍓Mercury trine Mars are people that can help each other process things and brainstorm as they work very well with one another balancing ideas and workload. This is the dream team for any project.

🍓People with their MC in square aspect to your Sun might feel embarrassed to be seen with you in public. Best case they prefer to be more personal and private with you, bringing you into their personal space and away from their outer persona.

🍓Personally, I have found that the predominance of Squares usually only works in context of friendship rather than in romance, sex or family. Although it could create conflict between personalities, when done right, it can signify support, companionship or even someone that'll be instrumental in helping you break out of toxic patterns or elevate into a higher level and field.

🍓MC square MC is an indication of having drama or a falling out publicly.

🍓Lunar Nodes in aspect to your personal planets have a strong effect on you, although it would be temporary. Meanwhile, someone Nodes in your angular houses (1st, 4th, 7th, 10th) will play a big role in your life. This is would be particularly true if they're in aspect to your Ascendant/Descendant/IC/MC.

🍓Aspects between Venus and Venus create more harmony and attraction than positive aspects between Mars and Venus/ Mars and Mars.

🍓Jupiter conjunct Saturn are two sides of the same coin. They're two people with the same ideals and principles yet they approach and practice them differently.

🍓Even though it is not "official" or as widely done, but I give great importance to the compatibility between the houses in synastry, regardless of the planets present. Since the houses are a reflection of our life map, it can help us better understand our similarities and differences, plus our possible standpoints.

🍓When looking over synastry with a parent, take a good look at the aspects made by their Saturn and Chiron to your personal placements. Chiron in specific can show where/what they unleash or heal their trauma through you.

🍓Mars opposition Saturn is a high indication of a relationship being described as a "Cold War".

🍓Having Chiron and/or Pluto conjunct someone inner planets means you're are here to serve them karma or bring them justice.

🍓Ascendant conjunct Venus creates a very beautiful pairing. Whether it's romantic or platonic, this pair accentuate one another's beauty.

🍓Check the aspects your Neptune makes to the other person. The planets aspected indicate where do you overlook traits, paint a false picture, or what are you in denial about regrading the person. This works in terms of justifying behavior, making up a connection, and possibly lying on or magnifying "bad traits" in others that don't exist. It also goes the other way around.

🍓The placement of someone's Moon in your houses can summarize their emotional state towards you or what they find in common with you on a deeper level. For example:

Someone's Moon in your 1st house can be a person that feels endowed or in awe of your appearance (especially when their Moon is inconjunction with your Ascendant). You may carry yourself in a way that they relate to or deeply desire. This person may also be someone that shares superficial feelings of you or thinks that you're shallow. Possible jealousy.

Someone's Moon in your 2nd house is a sign of codependence, specifically of the Moon native towards you. Since the 2nd house rules resources and self esteem, this person may require a lot from you, and might be a bit too comfortable taking things from you. You yourself may also enable this behavior and don't see a problem with it. In some cases, this could be a person that is emotionally supportive and reinforcing of your own worth. In contrast, this could be someone that creates blockages and hinders your material growth.

Someone's Moon in your 3rd house will be a person that you feel very comfortable talking to. This can be someone you find out that they're from the same hometown as you or have lived/is living in your childhood neighborhood. A potential life long roomie. An indication of a nurturing or "motherly" way of communicating with one another.

Someone's Moon in your 10th is similar to that of the 1st, in that the Moon person would be either in awe or jealous of you. In this house, this is exhibited overtly. This person could be your biggest cheerleader or biggest hater. Something about you succeeding (or even failing) affects them deeply. It's likely that this person won't have your best interest at heart and may use associating with you as a way to gain fame or monetary wealth. In positive cases, this person could be a confidant in professional environments.

🍓People that have more than two planets in your water houses (4th, 8t, 12th) will have a profound effect on you for the rest of this lifetime. These houses are not only related to our deeper selves and private life, but they're also karmic. Our relationship with such people is much more darker and intimate, showing hidden aspects of ourselves that we may not be aware of. Being around them may be draining as those relationships can feel like a blood oath, to say the least. Particularly for the 12th, this person can unravel you in the best (and worst) ways possible. As the house of hidden enemies, this person might be harmful to you in an unforeseen ways. If both of you share planets in these houses then it's an indication of trauma bonding.

🍓A person with their natal Mars in your 8th house can be someone oddly provoking. Its giving "why do I even like you?". These are not the people you usually find attractive yet they have a strange hold on you. They're your forbidden fruit.

🍓Aspects made to the ascendent can explain ones first impression of another. For example, Venus in aspect to the ascendent describes a sense of intrigue and attraction based off of desire (Opposition), envy (Square), resonance (Conjunct), belonging (Trine), or curiosity (Sextile).

Bye Ugly xoxo

#astrology #astro observations #astrology notes #astrology observations #astro notes #astrology houses #synastry #synastry observastion #synastry chart #astro #astro placements #astrology aspects

928 notes · View notes

astro-vogue · 4 months

Note

hello i apologize for asking a few questions in a row but i was curious on what the best method to determine career based on astrology is, i’ve seen stuff from using the industria asteroid persona chart as well as the mc and its persona chart, to the 6th house and to the 11th house due to financial gains. what do you consider?

This article will be a short guide on where and how to spot career/job in your birth chart, I won't talk about Asteroid Industria as I never use it much and I prefer to use other methods in my practice.

QUICK TIP : never use asteroids before an analysis of your own birth chart first, asteroids have lesser weight than your natal planets so they have to be secondarily added to the analysis.

[ ⚠ ] Bear in mind that a few placements alone won't tell the whole story, career readings are birth chart readings, not MC or 11H analysis alone. To spot your career you'll need to see the whole chart.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The information on this article is based on these books by professional astrologers:

(¹) Vocations: The New Midheaven Extension Process - Noel Tyl

(²) Vocation: The Astrology of Career, Creativity and Calling - Brian Clark

(³) The Twelve Houses - Howard Sasportas

(⁴) The Houses: Temples of the Sky - Deborah Houlding

(⁵) The Astrology of Success - Jan Spiller

(⁶) Forces at Work: Astrology and Career - Amy Shapiro

● These ones are the fundamentals to analyze when trying to spot career, as they are referred as "The Work Houses"

⎯ first of all the signs on their cusps

⎯ second of all the planets inside them (if any)

⎯ third of all their rulers and their placements

�� fourth of all the aspects to the MC

● Additionally the 11H is the house of salaries, so your income and profits from your job can be seen there.

↑ "Vocation: The Astrology of Career, Creativity and Calling" - Bryan Clark

● Often overlooked but very important: Saturn in the birth chart can indicate your job as it represents obligations, resposabilites, long term achievements and duties, as I said in this post of mine talking about Social Planets.

● The Nodes (North Node and South Node) represent your calling, your soul purpose, and almost like the MC they represent your aspirations and life goals, playing a big role in what can be your job/career.

(¹) North and South Node in Astrology - AstroStyle

(²) Saturn in Astrology - AstroStyle

[ ⚠ ] DISCLAIMER: your birth time has to be 100% accurate in order to calculate it, please don't calculate this chart if your birth time is uncertain (even if it's a matter of few minutes).

● This chart is extremely important as it represents your public image, your job and your major life aspirations, so be careful when reading it.

● After the first analysis of your "Work Houses" and MC you'll already have some potential career paths in your mind, only after this you'll be able to switch to the MC Persona Chart which will eventually confirm your theories or even suggest new ones to add to the list.

⎯ pay special attention to the dominant energies of the chart

⎯ pay special attention to the MC and angular planets (if there's any)

[ ⚠ ] DISCLAIMER: your birth time has to be 100% accurate in order to calculate them, please don't calculate these if your birth time is uncertain (even if it's a matter of few minutes).

● ASC/MC MIDPOINT is an indication of how your identity relates to your public image, at the same time it can indicate your ideal job that makes your natural expression shine the most. The balance between yourself and your job.

● VENUS/MC MIDPOINT could quite literally indicate "the job you may love doing", indicating things you like to do and activities you enjoy doing.

⎯ all MC MIDPOINTS are important, but to me these two are the top ones

● for those using Hermetic Lots, this one is particularly indicated to spot career as it indicates (along with the Nodes) your purpose and direction, what brings natural joy to your spirit, what we're capable of, what we wish to do in our lifetime.

(¹) The Lot of Fortune and Spirit in Astrology - The Astrology Podcast

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

MASTERLIST

192 notes · View notes

pin-k-ink · 5 months

Text

lilac // gojo satoru

tw ⇢ teacher-student relationship, implied age gap, dub-con, mentions of violence and injuries, a bunch of made up stuff about cursed energy, sex pollen, dry humping, kissing, biting, marking

wc ⇢ 5.8k

a/n: first time writing about sex pollen. i got too lazy to write full smut :/

The deep indigo sky was just beginning to lighten to shades of soft periwinkle and pale violet when you quietly made your way through the still-sleeping streets towards the designated meeting spot. The cobblestone paths were deserted save for a solitary street sweeper pushing a rickety broom. The crisp morning air carried the faint blossomy scent of the cherry trees lining the boulevard. You breathed it in deeply, savoring the peaceful tranquility before the mission's inevitable chaos.

Despite the early hour, an energetic current of nervous anticipation buzzed through your veins, making you feel awake and alive. After weeks - no, months - of persistent nagging and pleading with your mentor Gojo, he had finally agreed to bring you along on a real mission to neutralize a powerful cursed spirit that had been terrorizing a village. This wasn't practice or sparring. This was the real thing, and you could scarcely believe he was trusting you with this level of responsibility.

You had been studying under Gojo's guidance for three years now, quickly marking yourself as his most promising student. Your rapid progress coupled with your earnest enthusiasm clearly endeared you to the laidback master. When you first began apprenticing under him, you admired Gojo's effortless strength and nonchalant confidence. But the more time passed, the more your admiration deepened into something...more. An aching fondness that went beyond student-mentor. You did your best to bury those pesky feelings, but they surfaced anyway in your private moments when your treacherous thoughts strayed to Gojo's disarming grin, his melodic laugh, the gentleness in his touch whenever he adjusted your stance...

Shaking away those distracting thoughts, you turned your focus to the task at hand as you neared the city gates where Gojo said to meet him. You slowed your steps, not wanting to seem overanxious, and scanned the area. At first you didn't see any sign of your mentor. Then a tall, lean figure stepped out from the shadows beneath a flowering dogwood tree, seemingly materializing from the darkness itself. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

Gojo looked as casual and unruffled as ever in his trademark black jacket and fitted trousers. His silver hair was disheveled from sleep, the long bangs framing his angular face. The black blindfold covering his eerily bright eyes was already tied securely in place. He flashed you a teasing smirk as you approached, effortlessly exuding an aura of power and danger despite his relaxed demeanor.

"Well, well," he drawled in that deep, unhurried baritone that never failed to send a shiver down your spine, "Up before the sun, I see. That's my stellar pupil."

You rolled your eyes in an attempt to brush off the feeling of breathlessness that always struck you when he was near. "Like I could sleep after you finally gave in to my requests," you shot back, feigning nonchalance.

Gojo chuckled warmly, the rich sound resonating in your core. "Careful now, that eagerness will get you into trouble."

"I can handle trouble just fine," you retorted with a toss of your hair, steadfastly ignoring the flutter in your belly at his darkly amused tone.

In two long strides, Gojo closed the distance between you. Your breath hitched as he reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingertips grazing your cheek in a feather-light touch that set your heart racing wildly. His smile turned wolfish, as if he could sense the effect his proximity had on you.

"Getting awfully bold aren't we?" He murmured in a low rumble. "You'll need to rein in that fire if you want to keep up today."

You scowled and swatted his hand away, silently cursing the flush you could feel rising on your cheeks and neck. "I'm ready for whatever comes my way. You seem to be forgetting I'm the one who's been pestering you about this."

Gojo's smile widened in amusement at your feistiness. With a dramatic flourish, he produced a sleek black case from the inner pocket of his jacket. Your eyes widened in excitement as he flipped it open with his thumb, revealing a gleaming array of freshly crafted cursed tools nestled in plush protective inlays.

"Hard not to remember with how relentless you've been," he teased lightly. Fixing you with that intense stare despite the blindfold, he continued more seriously, "This cursed spirit we're dealing with is immensely powerful and extremely crafty. It won't be like the exercises we've practiced." His expression turned grim. "People have died already. You need to follow my lead exactly as I say, understood?"

You held his searing gaze steadily and nodded once in solemn acknowledgment of the stakes. "I'm ready."

The corner of Gojo's mouth quirked upwards in an approving smirk. "Then let's be on our way. I have a feeling this is going to be a day to remember."

With that ominous quip, he snapped the case closed and set off at a brisk pace. You felt a surge of exhilaration Course through you as you easily matched his long stride, the two of you headed towards the tree-lined path leading out of the city.

The streets were still largely empty, aside from a few bleary-eyed vendors beginning to unpack their wares and set up for morning customers. Gojo waved lazily to the fruit seller positioning bright pyramids of glossy apples and mandarins as you strolled past the market stalls. The salty tang of fresh baked bread from the bakery mingled with the sweet floral perfume wafting from the cherry blossom trees swaying overhead.

"This all seems so...normal," you remarked with a sidelong glance at Gojo. "Hard to believe we're about to go toe-to-toe with a monstrous curse just beyond the city limits."

Gojo made a noise of agreement low in his throat. "Tread carefully. Malignant energy has a way of seeping into the crevices of everyday life before you even realize."

His cryptic warning sent a fresh surge of adrenaline zipping through your bloodstream. You clenched and unclenched your fists in anticipation, feeling the thrum of your heartbeat pulsing with each step. The paved streets transitioned to a packed dirt trail as you passed under the high stone archway marking the city's eastern boundary.

Gojo slowed his pace, scanning the treeline with those uncannily sharp senses of his. You couldn't stop the small shiver of unease that rippled through you as the forest closed in on either side of the path, brilliant sunshine dappling the underbrush in patterned shadows. You couldn't see or hear any signs of disturbance, but an unmistakable feeling of being watched prickled along the nape of your neck.

Seeming to read your sudden tension, Gojo tilted his head towards you fractionally. "Do you feel that?" he murmured under his breath.

You gave an imperceptible nod, adrenaline singing through your veins as your fingers unconsciously drifted towards the compact cursed tools holstered at your hip. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Gojo's subtle hand signal gesturing to fan out. Instantly on high alert, you veered off slightly to the right, grateful for Gojo's extensive training in non-verbal battlefield communication.

Forward you pressed in taut silence, straining your senses for any indication of the curse's presence. The forest sounds of rustling leaves and trilling birdsong seemed suspiciously...normal. Too normal. That's when it materialized without warning - a towering, amorphous entity comprised of roiling black miasma that blotted out the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy.

You froze in place, fingers instinctively closing around the hilt of your sword as an involuntary tremor of terror lanced through you. The cursed spirit descended in a chaotic swirl, rapidly taking the vaguely humanoid shape of a towering bestial creature. Despite the lack of discernible facial features, you could sense the menacing focus of its attention zeroing in on you and Gojo. A deep, guttural snarl seemed to reverberate from every direction at once.

You snapped into action on sheer muscle memory ingrained from your training, launching a volley of carefully aimed cursed tools to box in the spirit's movement.

But this was no mindless monster. It was shrewd and evasive, more so than Gojo had warned. With a resonating screech, it abruptly shifted form and shot forward straight towards you in a thick miasmic tendril.

You instinctively hurled yourself sideways, the trailing edge of the curse's strike grazing your ribcage and sending you tumbling through the undergrowth. White-hot pain blossomed across your side. Gasping for air, you pushed yourself upright, fingers scrabbling for purchase in the loamy soil as you tried to blink away the spots flickering across your vision.

"Eyes on me!" Gojo's baritone bark sliced through the chaos.

You whipped your head towards the sound of his voice just in time to witness a mind-bending blur of movement as he engaged the curse head-on. Purple-black tentacles of miasma lashed out, only to get effortlessly parried and severed by Gojo's blindingly fast cursed energy. But for every whiplike appendage he disabled, two more seemed to sprout in its place, forcing him to unleash a furious barrage of cursed energy blasts.

Scrambling to your feet, you winced at the searing pain now radiating through your entire torso. Gojo's eyes may have been metaphorically blindfolded, but his hyper-attuned senses clearly tracked your distress. "Get back!" He snarled over the demonic shrieks of the curse.

Like hell you were retreating. You were Gojo's first pupil, his most promising student if the rumors were true. This was your chance to prove your mettle and earn his trust on the battlefield. Drawing your sword, you poured every ounce of cursed energy into enhancing its deadly blade and let it fly in a blinding arc directly at the curse's grotesquely shifting form.

For a fraction of a second, the world seemed to still, the eerie silence shattered only by the high-pitched whistle of your sword spinning through the air. Then, with an explosive impact, it cleaved straight through the curse's torso...or what you assumed to be its torso based on its vaguely humanoid shape. A deafening roar of anguish tore through the forest as the cursed spirit began to rapidly disintegrate, breaking apart into smoldering wisps of miasma.

You allowed yourself a triumphant grin and started to straighten, already picturing the look of approval and pride that would be written across Gojo's stupidly handsome face. But your burst of victory was short-lived. With one final desperate lash, a thick tendril of the curse's dissipating form whipped out and slammed into your chest with staggering force. You felt the air violently expelled from your lungs as you were sent hurtling backwards, back slamming against the trunk of a massive oak tree with bone-jarring impact.

White hot agony detonated through your body as you crumpled into a heap at the base of the tree, struggling to draw breath past the searing pain. Bright sparks of color danced across your vision, the world fading in and out around you in muffled fragments of sight and sound. You were vaguely aware of Gojo yelling your name, but it sounded distorted and distant, drowned out by the thunderous pounding of blood in your ears.

Then he was there, looming over you, those obscured eyes boring into you with intense focus you could practically feel. His mouth was set in a grim line as his large hands roamed over you swiftly but carefully, assessing the damage with deft surety. When he prodded your ribcage, a ragged gasp was torn from your lips and dark spots threatened to consume your vision entirely. You faintly registered his deep rumble of a voice, the words indecipherable beneath the overwhelming waves of agony crashing over you.

Something soft and sweet and floral tickled your senses through the roaring in your ears. You wanted to ask about the fragrance, but unconsciousness was rapidly closing in. The last thing you were aware of before slipping into merciful oblivion was the feeling of strong arms scooping you up, cradling you securely to Gojo's powerfully built chest as the forest blurred past in green and brown smears. Then, nothing.

When you slowly drifted back to awareness, it was to the sensation of being gently jostled by rhythmic movement. Your eyelids felt heavy as lead weights, too monumental an effort to pry them open just yet. But your other senses were able to slowly piece together your surroundings.

The slight swaying told you that you were being carried, carefully cradled against someone's firm chest and shoulder. Gojo's familiar sandalwood-and-citrus scent, now mingled with the cloying floral sweetness you'd caught a whiff of before losing consciousness, enveloped you. The subtle up-and-down rocking combined with the warmth of his body against yours and the even thrum of his heartbeat made you feel inexplicably cozy and safe, like being wrapped in a heated blanket on a chilly morning.

You let out a sleepy murmur, slowly blinking your eyes open. The forest canopy above was streaked with shards of brilliant afternoon sunlight peeking through the lattice of leaves and branches. Gojo glanced down at the sound, his striking features taut with lingering tension and jaw firmly set.

"There you are," his low voice rumbled with unmistakable relief. "Thought you were going to sleep through the rest of the day."

Your brow furrowed as flashes of memory trickled back - the curse, the fight, the searing agony as you slammed into that tree trunk with bone-rattling force. With a wince, you instinctively pressed a hand to your ribcage, which was heavily bandaged beneath the tattered remains of your uniform top.

"Wha...what happened?" you rasped out, throat feeling as dry and brittle as burnt parchment.

"You happened," Gojo replied, a hint of that familiar teasing lilt finally returning to his tone though his expression remained grave. "Disobeyed my order to fall back and instead flung yourself into the fray like a deranged chaos tornado."

Heat flooded your cheeks at his casually derisive words. You opened your mouth to protest, to try vainly justifying your reckless actions, but he swiftly cut you off with a look.

"No, don't even try denying it. Your impulsiveness nearly got you killed today." His jaw tensed, azure eyes hardening behind the dark blindfold. "We finished it off, but not before it inflicted some nasty parting shots."

Gojo paused long enough to gingerly shift you higher against his chest, his arm tightening fractionally around you before continuing in that deep, resonant tone that brooked no argument. "From now on, you follow my lead in the field. No more wild stunts, understood? I can't risk having to continuously bail you out of trouble."

You bit your lower lip, a mortified flush burning your cheeks at the well-deserved chastising. Of course he was right. You had blatantly disregarded his instruction to fall back, too wrapped up in your bravado and desire to impress him.

"I...yes, I understand. I'm sorry, sensei. I made a stupid mistake," you mumbled, shamefaced.

His austere expression softened slightly at your contrition. Slowing to a halt, he carefully resettled your position in his arms so you were fully cradled against his chest like a child. His fingers brushed a few stray tendrils of hair back from your face in an unexpected tender gesture, the gentleness of it causing your breath to hitch.

"We all make mistakes when we're learning, my dear," he said gruffly. "The important thing is to learn from them and become better because of it. You'll get there eventually."

His hand lingered against your cheek for the span of a heartbeat, and you found yourself subconsciously leaning into his calloused palm, savoring the rough warmth of it. Up this close, you could make out the tiny flecks of midnight blue scattered through his brilliant azure irises. His masculine, woodsy scent combined with the sweet floral fragrance clinging to his skin in a heady, intoxicating blend that made your head spin.

Then, abruptly clearing his throat, Gojo straightened and pulled his hand away. "We should get moving while we have daylight left. Don't want you catching a cold in that state."

With long, purposeful strides, he set off once more down the forest path, movements remarkably fluid despite your added weight cradled in his arms. You let your head loll against his shoulder, suddenly overcome with bone-deep weariness. A few times you drifted in and out of a light doze, the steady rhythm of Gojo's steps lulling you into a trancelike state.

Eventually, the forest began to transition to more manicured spaces - orchards and farmland marking the outskirts of a village on the horizon. The fragrance of ripening fruit and freshly turned soil perfumed the air. In the distance, plumes of woodsmoke rose lazily from the first chimney stacks. Gojo's pace slowed fractionally.

"Nearly to my lodgings," he murmured. "Then we'll get you properly patched up and rested."

You hummed a vague noise of acknowledgement, lacking the energy for more. Truthfully, you didn't want this blissful pocket of tranquility where the world seemed to narrow to just you, Gojo, and the hazy calm between breaths to end. Selfishly, you tugged the edges of this peaceful moment around you like a comforting blanket, unwilling to shatter the illusion of domesticity it created - Gojo carrying you home after an arduous mission, tender reassurances and gentle caresses freely given. In these hushed instants, it felt like anything could happen. Something deeper than typical student-mentor affection.

But you knew it was just that - an illusion. One that was rapidly fraying around the edges the closer you drew to your destination. So you allowed your eyelids to drift shut once more, committing every nuance to memory. The lean power coiled in Gojo's body with each step, the rhythmic cadence of his heartbeat against your cheek, the lingering traces of floral sweetness mingling with his familiar earthy scent.

All too soon, the reverie was shattered as Gojo's quiet baritone cut through the stillness. "We're here."

You reluctantly opened your eyes to find him gazing down at you with an inscrutable look, silvery bangs askew from your journey. As he swept inside and settled you on the bed with infinite care, you couldn't help but wonder if the tender way his fingers smoothed across your brow was simply your mind playing wistful tricks.

Gojo's touch lingered for just a moment, calloused fingertips lightly tracing the curve of your cheekbone before he drew his hand back. You tried not to read too much into the tender gesture, reminding yourself it was simply his way of assessing your injuries. Still, you couldn't quite banish the fluttering warmth it sent blossoming in your chest.

"Get some rest," he rumbled in that deep, unhurried drawl that never failed to send a shiver skating down your spine. "I'll fetch supplies to properly dress those wounds."

With that, he rose in one fluidly graceful movement and swept across the small but meticulously tidy room towards a hallway presumably leading to a washroom or storage area. Left alone, you allowed your eyes to drift closed on a weary exhale, suddenly acutely aware of the throbbing ache pulsing through your ribcage with each breath.

The familiar scent of sandalwood and citrus mingled with the lingering floral notes was everywhere, surrounding you in Gojo's uniquely masculine essence. You breathed it in deeply, willing it to soothe and relax you as your mind began to drift.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before the sound of footfalls broke you from your half-doze. Gojo reappeared in the doorway, sleeves neatly rolled up past his elbows and arms laden with a basin of steaming water, a sheaf of clean linen bandages, and an assortment of glass bottles and ceramic pots. He set the supplies down on a low wooden table beside the bed with studied meticulousness.

Unable to contain your curiosity at the sweet floral aroma that clung to him in a delicate cloud, you found yourself asking, "What...what is that fragrance?"

Gojo flashed you an enigmatic half-smile as he settled on the edge of the bed, deft hands already working to remove the makeshift bandages you'd hastily applied in the forest.

"Cherry blossom poultice," he replied, carefully peeling back the soiled linen wrappings to reveal the vivid mottling of blues, blacks, and purples marring the skin across your torso and ribs. You couldn't stifle a pained hiss of indrawn breath at the inflamed sight. Gojo's mouth tightened into a grim line. "That curse may have been a crafty adversary, but it was also saturated with poisonous flora and fauna. A full-body dose could be lethal if left untreated."

Your eyes widened in muted horror at the thought of how narrowly you'd skirted death yet again today. Gojo must have sensed your sudden spike of unease because his next words were spoken in a low, soothing rumble meant to reassure.

"Easy now, you're alright. I managed to mostly deflect and dispel the curse's attack with a barrier before it could fully envelop us." A wry twist of his lips. "Though I did get a hefty face full of the damned pollen for my troubles."

Gojo worked in silence, deft fingers gliding over your skin with the gentlest of touches as he secured the fresh bandages around your torso. You released a shuddering exhale, doing your best to avoid tensing under his careful ministrations. The cloying floral fragrance enveloping you both made you feel slightly lightheaded, senses heightened to an almost dizzying degree.

As Gojo leaned in closer to wrap the linen binding around your ribcage, you inhaled deeply—and immediately regretted it. The intoxicating aroma of cherry blossoms flooded your senses, viscous and sweet, simultaneously making your head spin giddily while liquid warmth unfurled low in your belly. You bit back a small, strangled sound of surprise at the overwhelming sensation.

Gojo froze, hands stilling against you. His head cocked ever so slightly, blindfold shifting as his brow furrowed. You watched his nostrils flare subtly as he scented the air, drawing in that same cloying fragrance.

"Gojo...?" you breathed his name, unable to disguise the husky rasp twining through it.

His strong jaw clenched visibly, throat working on a tight swallow. Those brilliant azure eyes you knew burned too intensely behind his blindfold suddenly seemed to smolder from beneath their obscuring veil. Without a word, Gojo resumed winding the bandages around you with deft efficiency, but his movements had grown noticeably stiff and stilted, muscles taut like finely drawn bowstrings.

You couldn't tear your gaze away from the rippling cords of tendon in his throat, mesmerized by the way they contracted and released with each tight swallow. An insistent throbbing had taken up residence low in your abdomen, sending molten tendrils of liquid heat licking through your veins. The lightheadedness grew more pronounced until you felt almost drunk on the addictive floral sweetness clogging the air.

Then, as Gojo shifted to secure the end of the bandage, the lightest whisper of his knuckles grazing your ribs made you Release a shuddery gasp that seemed indecent in its rawness. His head whipped towards you, body going preternaturally still, as if scarcely daring to breathe.

"Gojo," you rasped again, desperation fraying the edges of his name as that smoldering heat consumption you quickly intensified into a raging inferno. "I...I don't know what's happening, but I feel..."

You trailed off uncertainly, lips parting on shallow pants as your body waged a losing war with itself, nerves alight and senses overwhelmed by conflicting waves of need and fear. What was this feverish madness burning through your veins? Despite the blanket cocooning you, you felt deliriously overheated, skin flushed and tingling with hypersensitivity.

Gojo made a low, gravelly sound in the back of his throat - not quite a growl but infinitely more feral. In one blurring movement, he snatched your wrist and pressed two fingertips to the thunderous leap of your pulse point. You could have sworn his calloused digits seared your flesh with the intensity of his touch. He hissed a sharp curse through gritted teeth.

"Pollen toxin." The words emerged as a rumbling snarl more befitting a caged beast than a human. "Accursed flora. Aphrodisiac compounded by healing catalyst."

His hand was shaking almost imperceptibly where it still gripped your wrist in that punishing hold. When he raised his gaze to yours, it glittered with barely restrained hunger behind the smoldering azure glare - a predator watching its prey with hyperfocus intensity.

You instinctively shrank back slightly, fear and arousal swirling through you in a dizzying cyclone. "W-what do we do?" You stammered breathlessly.

Gojo's jaw worked furiously, each knotted tendon in his broad shoulders standing out in bold relief as if it were taking every ounce of his formidable willpower and control to hold himself back. When at last he spoke, his voice was low and strained to the point of breaking.

"We quell the toxin's influence..." His tongue flicked out to wet his lips in an unconscious, devastatingly sensual gesture that transfixed you. "By any means necessary."

The weight of his words - that deliciously sinful promise laced through the graveled rasp - slammed into you with staggering force. You let out a tremulous whine past your parted lips before you could stop yourself. That seemed to be the hairline fracture in Gojo's restraint.

He moved with the liquid grace of a predator, surging forward to cage you beneath his powerful frame with one corded forearm braced on either side of your head. The wild silver veil of his hair brushed your fevered cheeks as he leaned down until his mouth hovered a hairsbreadth from yours, ragged breaths mingling hotly.

"Last chance to tell me no, little one," he rasped harshly. "Because I won't be able to stop once I've tasted you..."

Instead of voicing protest, you arched helplessly into him with a keening mewl, already intoxicated on the delirious friction of your bodies aligned from abdomen to thigh. Gojo's jaw tensed, a muscle leaping beneath the stubbled hinge as he visibly wrestled the last dregs of his restraint. Then, with a low, defeated groan, he crushed his sinful mouth to yours in a branding kiss of pure liquid fire.

The moment Gojo's lips crashed into yours in that searing, desperate kiss, it was like a thousand lit matches had been set blazing through your veins. You opened for him in a broken gasp, welcoming the velvet rasp of his tongue as it stroked deep to taste you in a carnal claiming.

Gojo kissed you with a ferocious, unbridled hunger—all hints of his usual teasing restraint obliterated by the toxin blazing through his system. He devoured your mouth like a man dying of thirst, coaxing whimpering mewls from your throat with each greedy lap and nip of his talented lips and tongue.

Broad palms mapped the curves of your sides and waist in rough, possessive strokes before cradling the base of your skull to tilt your head for an even more scorching angle. All coherent thought disintegrated under the merciless onslaught of pure sensation as Gojo thoroughly plundered the recesses of your mouth, savoring your taste and scent like it was the elixir of life itself.

When the urgent need for oxygen became too great to ignore, he tore his mouth from yours with a guttural growl, harsh pants ghosting humid over your swollen lips. There was no reprieve, however, as Gojo immediately latched onto the slender column of your throat, laving and suckling at the thundering pulse point with fervent ardor.

You cried out sharply at the exquisite sting of his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, fingernails raking blunt crescents down his powerful back muscles in unbidden retaliation. If anything, it only seemed to stoke the smoldering fire in Gojo hotter and brighter. He ground his jaw against you, low rumbling groans of pure masculine satisfaction vibrating against your neck as he mouthed and laved a path of molten open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones.

Just when you thought the unbearable tension crackling between you would surely snap and consume you both whole, Gojo captured your lips again in an inferno of a kiss. You melted helplessly into the scorching heat of it, thighs parting instinctively as he settled his solid weight more firmly over you. A ragged whine tore from your throat as the hard ridge of his cock ground against your aching pussy through too many maddening layers of clothing.

With a frustrated growl vibrating in his chest, Gojo pinned you with his hips and reached between your bodies to tear at the wrappings securing your clothing. You watched with rapt fascination as those wickedly deft fingers made quick work of the fastenings and laces, exposing more and more fevered flesh to the slick glide of his calloused palms and mouth's scorching caresses.

Under that searing azure gaze obscured by the blindfold, you had never felt more bare, more exquisitely possessed by the intensity of his focused want. Gojo mapped every quivering inch of you with insatiable focus—branding a path of stinging love bites down the swell of your breasts, laving at the juncture of your inner thighs until your startled cries spiraled high into shamelessly wanton keens.

"Satoru...ahh! Please...I can't—" you gasped out in a wavering plea, trembling with the effort of withstanding the relentless onslaught on your senses. Every nerve felt scorched raw and electrified, each glancing caress igniting liquid fire in its wake. It was maddening, this exquisite torture of your senses being drawn out to the brink of snapping.

Drunk on the honeyed elixir of your combined intoxicating scents, Gojo only growled hungrily and rose to capture your lips once more. He poured every ounce of his elemental yearning into the plundering strokes of his tongue and nips of blunted teeth until you keened into the kiss with unbearable abandon, utterly overwhelmed.

Desperate, you wound your fingers into the thick silver tresses at his nape and tugged sharply—half plea, half demand swallowed by the ravenous crash of your joined mouths. To your shock, Gojo answered with a full-bodied shudder and an incoherent rumble of pleasure. He dragged himself inch by scorching inch away from you, lips clinging to yours until the last possible moment.

When you finally surfaced for air, Gojo was watching you with heavy-lidded intensity, chest heaving visibly. Stray tendrils of snowy hair fell in disheveled disarray framing his chiseled features, thoroughly wrecked and devastatingly sensual. You drank in the sight of him like the most tantalizing of ambrosia, lips swollen and kiss-bruised, unruly black cloth now tented obscenely over his straining cock.

"...not done with you yet," he rasped in that low, gravel-and-smoke tone that cinched desire into an exquisite knot at your core with each rumbled syllable. "Not even close."

Then, with a leonine grace at odds with his wild dissolution, Gojo prowled up your body to press you into the bed once more.

Gojo's intense gaze smoldered with undisguised hunger as he loomed over you, body taut with simmering restraint. His kiss-swollen lips curved into a wolfish grin, fingers trailing featherlight paths down your fevered skin until you trembled beneath his smoldering touch.

"So responsive," he rumbled in that gravel-toned rasp that seemed to vibrate straight through you. "I'm going to take such sweet torment unraveling you piece by exquisite piece, my dear."

True to his dark promise, Gojo set about blazing a scorching trail of open-mouthed kisses and teasing nips along the sensitive peaks and valleys of your body. Each maddeningly light caress and rasp of his stubbled jaw seemed to stoke the banked embers of want coiling low in your core into an inferno. You writhed shamelessly against him, desperate for friction, for release, for anything to douse the liquid flames licking through your veins.

But Gojo was relentless in his unhurried torment, heedless of your increasingly desperate pleas that dissolved into tremulous whimpers. With skilled hands and lips and teeth, he steadily unraveled your restraint into boneless want until all you could do was fist your fingers into the disheveled silk of his hair and hang on for the exquisite unbearable ride.

At last, when you teetered at the precipice of shattering into a thousand incandescent shards, Gojo claimed your lips in a searing, possessive kiss, swallowing your cries.

Gojo's kiss consumed you utterly—a ferocious melding of questing tongues and nipping teeth that robbed you of breath and higher cognition. You could only cling to the bunched muscles of his back and surrender yourself to the relentless onslaught of sensation as he mapped every ridge and plane of you with fervent ardor.

Calloused palms branded searing paths over your fevered skin, stoking the flames of desire raging through your veins ever higher until the air felt too thick to breathe. Every graze of Gojo's lips and roll of his powerful hips against yours ripped open-mouthed cries from your parted lips, urgency mounting to a crescendo.

You lost all sense of time and space, the world contracting to encompass only the joined rhythm of Gojo’s cock sliding against your soaked pussy, the heated rasp of entwined breaths, the exquisite drag of sweat-slicked skin against skin. Wave after wave of delirious sensation swelled and crested, carrying you under until only Gojo's name remained—a breathless litany falling from your lips over and over like a fevered prayer.

At last, when you teetered dizzily on the brink of your orgasm, Gojo's mouth found that electrifying confluence of nerves at the juncture of your shoulder. He suckled at the thundering pulse point, teeth grazing in a stinging promise, and you instantly shattered apart into thousands of fractal aftershocks. A broken, sobbing cry was torn from your very core as you felt a gush of fluid.

Through the whiteout haze, you were dimly aware of Gojo following you over that dizzying edge with a hoarse, guttural shout muffled against your sweat-dampened neck. He collapsed against you in a boneless sprawl, harsh breaths sawing from his heaving chest and mingling with the heated puff of your panting exhalations.

For long, suspended moments, you simply clung to one another, bodies thrumming with residual tremors of release. Gradually, your scattered senses began knitting themselves back together, awareness expanding once more beyond the microcosm of tangled limbs and mingled heartbeats.

The potent floral aroma still hung thick in the air, but its cloying, dizzying influence seemed to have finally abated from your brutally overwhelmed senses. You became aware of a dull throbbing ache reclaiming the space between your temples—the first tugs of an impending pollen sickness headache, no doubt.

Beside you, Gojo stirred with a low groan rumbling deep in his chest, blindfold slightly askew to reveal a sliver of those bright azure irises heavy-lidded with satiation. It was clear the toxin's hazy, lust-fueled madness had finally burned itself out in the wake of your animalistic humping. In its place remained a bone-deep lassitude weighing your tangled limbs into pleasant heaviness.

Gojo nuzzled against the slick curve of your throat, lips ghosting across the wildflower petals scattered there—faint purpling bruises in the shapes of his fervent mouth's passage. His voice rasped low and grave when he spoke at last.

"Well...that was certainly one way to burn through the excess pollen."

You startled into a soft huff of incredulous laughter that soon bubbled into fuller peals. Grinning wolfishly despite his apparent exhaustion, Gojo angled himself higher to bestow a lingering, openmouthed kiss that persisted even as your laughter slowly faded into blissful, languid quiet.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru

210 notes · View notes

servantofthefates · 1 year

Text

How to Tell Someone’s Physical Appearance with Tarot Cards

It is the simplest thing. You only have to look at your cards and describe what you see.

The Empress

Male or female, this person has soft, long, flowy hair. It could be naturally wavy, or straight but styled with waves. Color is medium to light. Anything from dark blonde to medium brown or light auburn. Facial structure is soft. Heart-shaped to triangular, but the jawline is more gentle than angular. Tall and fit, but not to the point of having an athletic build. Looks like a Libra.

Ten of Wands

This person stands at below the average height. Around 5'7" for men and 5'1" for women. He or she is on the bulky side, but muscular instead of fat. Hair is light to dark blonde. Best features are the arms, but the legs are a close second. This person has a practical fashion sense. The fabrics they wear will be high-quality, but the clothes themselves will not be too showy. Like a Taurus.

Ace of Swords

With the crown and the leaves adorning the sword, this person likes to wear accessories. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets. Like the sword, he or she has good posture, always standing or sitting straight. One can tell from the hand that this person is strong and muscular. The length of the sword speaks of average height. For a man, around 5'8" to 5'10". For a woman, around 5'3 to 5'5".

Try it with your own deck. 🌹

#Tarot #Tarot tips #Witch tips #Divination #servantofthefates #Witchblr #Tarot meanings #All About Tarot

589 notes · View notes

electrozeistyking · 2 months

Text

Hi, I really like making little personalized references for characters I like when I get into things! I do this to figure out how I wanna draw them, and is a recent-ish development that I haven’t done a lot, but I really like character design and thinking about them! So I made some for Siffrin. How fun!

DO NOTE THAT THIS WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR LATER PARTS OF THE GAME. I did obviously tag it as such for the sake of others and it will be further down, but I figured I’d still warn you just in case. <:3

Now, without further ado, here’s “reference one!”

I’m personally gonna be using this in conjunction with Siffrin’s actual reference sheet (which I refer to as “notes” in mine!!) to make sure he look his best! I also wanted to make sure they’re “in line with canon,” yet still in my style and in a way I can be proud of.

Which isn’t that hard, since I’m usually always proud of my own work. I just like my own stuff. <:3

Due to the brim of his hat allegedly being bean-shaped (teehee), I thought it’d be fun if I carried that over to his torso/body. It’s not noticeable with a cloak in the way, nor when Siffrin’s standing straight up. Basically, the bean shape would only be revealed in certain poses.

(Coming up with that also made me say “Whoops! All beans!” out loud about Siffrin, btw.)

Additionally, I like giving characters is their own set of fangs. One character I draw has a gap between them and the rest of their teeth, one has prominent ones to make them more cat like on purpose — and for Siffrin, I decided to give them rounded ones.

I usually make fangs razor sharp, because I really like big ol chompers like that, so them being round is definitely a very unique thing for Siffrin to have. Well, at least at first.

I’m also a really big fan of certain design elements sticking around after something wild happens to characters… which brings us to “reference two.”

Well, if you’re not gonna be able to find any good references for this version of Siffrin, you might as well make your own, right??

The major thing I wanted to do with this Siffrin was to have him still feel like himself, but also give him somewhat of a unique design in comparison — by playing up elements I noticed during this scene.

Making this Siffrin feel as giant as they are was important to me. I went ahead and made their hat, face, hair and cloak longer. Made their shoulders broader, had them hunch over so they’d practically loom over everyone. Trying to appear smaller while still being an obstacle. Wanting everyone to stay here. Wanting their family.

I noticed that a lot of Siffrin’s hair seemed a lot more angular here, so I felt it crucial to use those shapes, but going a couple steps further and using them for his face as well… primarily his mouth and chin, of course. Which meant replacing those rounded fangs I gave him with a full set of sharper ones.

(I also wanted them to look like they’re too big for Siffrin’s mouth, so two of them — well, four? — will always peek out/fall past their lower lip. It’s like their teeth are not a comfortable fit whatsoever and it makes talking feel weird, but they manage.)

(They stick around after Siffrin “reverts back” or whatever we’re calling it. He never gets his round fangs back, but at least the ones he has now serve as a reminder that he got to the end. Might take some getting used to, though.)

(I also tried making their brows look a bit more angular? Can’t tell if they really come across that way.)

ANYWAY, I THINK I SHOULD STOP HAHAHA. I could go on and on all day, but I got other things to do and I think I’ve already explained enough! Just know that I get a kick out of putting love and care into character thoughts and designs. <:3

#in stars and time #in stars and time fanart #in stars and time spoilers #in stars and time siffrin #isat #isat fanart #isat siffrin #isat spoilers #siffrin #zeisty’s in betweens #character thoughts #headcanons maybe??#i was gonna make a jab at how siffrin looks like a sonic the hedgehog character in that first ref #but coming from the guy whose first two contributions to isat was siffrin in sonic adventure poses #and who is also a sonic fan working on a particular fancomic #i think that would’ve been too ironic. or self aware? idk. just felt outta place #either way yeah. i draw really big hands and stompers and i think it’s due to me being a fan of sonic the hedgehog #also yeah! this is mainly for me but if anyone else wants to use these (especially that last ref bc I know there isn’t a canon one)#absolutely feel free! heck even let me know when you do! i think that’d be fun!#i think siffrin would make at least one pun involving the new sharper fangs. maybe even more than that

94 notes · View notes

bloobydabloob · 2 months

Note

Any tips on getting better at realism? I've been drawing very cartoony works forever but I really want to branch out and draw more realistically and hone that style but Everytime I try it never feels human 😔

Suuuure. Sorry it’s fairly long, answer under the split thing.

I’d say mainly just practice drawing from reference first. Before I started doing any sort of more abstractive or non referential realism, I spent time practicing with maybe 20 or 30 paintings from reference.

Here are just some that I made during that time. I think they really really helped me to learn the principles of painting appealing realism, different kinds of people, color, skin, lighting, and anatomy.

In terms of actually drawing realism (whether from reference or not) I think the most important tip I can give, as well as the most overlooked ironally, is stylisation. Most realism that I see doesn’t connect at all with me which I think is maybe what you’re talking about when you say your portraiture doesn’t “feel human”.

Learning to draw realism in my eyes is largely about learning how to shortcut every single thing you can. So instead of drawing everything exactly how it is using an image, learn how to stylise realism in your own way. I find that if you don’t find a way to simplify the process, it can end up being A : Busy and B : hard for you to create more realistic images from imagination or from real life instead of photographs.

Here is a 40 minute drawing I just drew from a random photo I pulled off Pinterest + small explanation on what helps me to break down an image. I simplify realistic portraiture by adopting somewhat of an angular style, but the best realism / semi realism artists I know of draw realism using their own stylisation methods.

I also personally find that it helps to start by blocking in instead of sketching with lines, but I understand that this is a personal preference and might not work for you.

I also say this for everything but there is no “cheating” in art and anyone who tells you there is fundamentally doesn’t know anything about drawing, especially in the learning process. Cheat if you want. Use grids to plot where things will be, colorpick, trace, liquify, transform, whatever. Although I do also recommend that you only use this as a way to learn and don’t rely on it as a crutch, it helps a lot to be able to draw independently of all of these factors. But I learned to draw partially *by* being a kid who traced and colorpicked and fucked around. Who cares

This applies to everything too but just practice a lot. I’m too embarrassed to show but when I first starting drawing semi realistic art without reference it fucking sucked. Like *really* fucking sucked because I am extremely extremely faceblind and I mean that. It takes me 3 seasons of a show to recognise an actor’s face. But because I’ve drawn hundreds of faces now I know what I’m doing kind of. I also never post any realism art immediately because oftentimes if I don’t look at it for a day or two, I’ll come back to it and notice that something doesn’t look quite right. I would say that definitely helps.

ALSO very important but look at it from far away or a little version. I always look at my drawing in the digital navigator on FA and it helps me to notice when something looks dumb.

Anyways hope this helped at all… lalala. I don’t know man. Don’t take my words as bible I’m just some guy and I am also not a professional and realism is definitely not my strong suit. Tutorials are bullshit and if you think any of this advice sucks for you then don’t take it and forge your own path. Bless

#ask #I’ve got quite a few asks asking for tips. I’ll try to answer them all in time but #seriously I am just an amateur at words and at pictures.#I like making pictures though… let’s all make pictures guys.#But my methods are just my methods. I try to use as few brush strokes as I can #and I’m sure other wonderful artists probably draw realism completely differently than me. I don’t know #Long as heck !#No one judge on the 40 minute portraiture in image #It was my first time using CSP today and I just wanted to try it out. So it was very quick and I don’t know the program well at all.#Lalala…

58 notes · View notes

codesolutionstuff · 2 years

Text

Best Strategies for Building Enterprise Applications with Angular

New Post has been published on https://www.codesolutionstuff.com/best-strategies-for-building-enterprise-applications-with-angular/

Best Strategies for Building Enterprise Applications with Angular

Popular open-source framework for creating web applications is Angular. It is widely used in enterprise applications due to its robustness, scalability, and maintainability. However, developing enterprise applications using Angular requires a strategic approach and adherence to best practices to

#Angular #Angular CLI #Best Practices #E2E Testing #Enterprise Applications #Interceptors #Lazy Loading #Modular Architecture #Reactive Forms #Strategies #Unit Testing

0 notes

pasukiyo · 1 year

Note

Hi! I'm in love with your work and I'm not sure if you take requests but I read the new story with Tom Riddle and I fall in love. Could you write something with Warren Collins together with a Slytherin Reader (or a house that you want if you don't want Slytherin). The plot/scenario could be Slytherin Reader being part of Tom "friends" and it comes out during one of their common room meetings that she was going fast with Warren and Tom didn't know that she was with someone and you can decide how it goes on.

If you don't want to write it, it's oki.

I really love you stories! Have a good day/night 🥰

Also sorry for my bad English.

-🫐

𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 | tom riddle

tom riddle x f!slytherin reader 5,139 words warnings: smut including fingering, slight degradation, tom being manipulative, semi-public sex, cheating notes: warren collins is my own original character :) summary: why couldn’t you just forget about tom? you had the perfect boy in warren collins— he adored you, he was popular, and good at quidditch. tom never so much as cared to ask how your day was. so why can’t you get enough of him?

“So, when my father saw how easily I could catch grapes in the air, he was convinced I’d make a great Seeker,” Warren chuckled as they entered the Hogwarts Grounds, and she smiled. “Well, I suppose he was right,” she giggled. “It’s nice that your father is so encouraging.”

Warren ran his fingers through his wavy yet well-groomed raven black hair, the smile on his full, pink lips widening. “Yes, it is nice. Although, he could be awfully irritating at times,” he sighed. “Used to make me practice every morning before breakfast for hours. Then, he’d make me practice after hours too. I guess it paid off though,” he shrugged and she pursed her lips. “Well, don’t tell any of the other Slytherins— especially Neil Lament— but I, for one, think that you’re the best Seeker at Hogwarts. Although, I’m sure most students would be inclined to agree.”

Blood rushed to the pale skin of Warren’s cheeks, giving him a warm scarlet glow. He tittered as he kicked rocks on the ground below, staring at his feet. “Your secret is safe with me,” he chuckled. “But, think you ought to know… it feels good knowing you think so highly of me,” he leaned closer to her to whisper the last part, and she, too, flushed, giggling and pushing him away by the chest as they entered the castle.

“Well, I best get to the common room and meet up with Weasley and the others before they start searching the castle up and down for me,” Warren said as he turned towards her, and she clasped her hands together, letting them hang in front of her. “Oh no, we wouldn’t want that,” she giggled, and he laughed along.

“So, are you coming to the Quidditch match tomorrow?” He asked, and she smiled and nodded, her teeth sinking down into her bottom lip. “Of course. How could I miss seeing you play against my own House?” She teased and he chuckled down at her again, stepping closer. “I hope you won’t hate me too much when we beat your House, then,” he murmured, one of his dark, angular eyes winking. She, too, stepped closer, and she glanced down at his lips, as he did the same to hers. “Well, between you and me…” she rolled onto the tips of her toes so that her lips were beside his ear. “I think we’ll both know who I’ll be cheering for.”

She leaned back just in time as the scarlet in his cheeks morphed to a maroon, and he couldn’t help but laugh, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Merlin, what will I do with you?” He asked teasingly as he backed away, and she smiled. “I’ll leave that up for you to decide!” She chuckled and he turned around dramatically, and she watched as he strode away, peering over his shoulder to smile one last time at her before disappearing down the hall.

She sighed as she made her way to the Grand Staircase and down to the dungeons where the entrance to the Slytherin common room was, her heart thudding against her chest as she slipped through the entrance. And she could feel her beating heart sink when she gazed up at who was there waiting for her.

“You’re late,” Tom Riddle said, and she flushed beneath his gaze, tucking her hair behind her ear and scurrying to the seat across from him. Avery and Lestrange smirked at her from beside Tom, and she narrowed her eyes at them. “Sorry I’m late,” she apologized, turning back towards Tom. “I was— I was with a friend.”

Avery raised his eyebrows at this, “a friend, you say?” She blinked over at him, and from the corner of her eye, she could see Tom raise his own eyebrow at the boy beside him. “Yes. A friend,” she replied, her glare darkening. “What friend?” Tom asked, and Lestrange laughed, leaning back into his seat and crossing his right leg over his left. She flushed at this and shifted in her seat, her gaze cowering to the floor.

“She means that Gryffindor boy, Warren Collins,” Lestrange snickered, and Avery sniggered too. Tom narrowed his eyes at this, snapping his head towards where she sat across from him. She felt small beneath his gaze, but when she looked up, she couldn’t seem to look away.

She hated how dark his eyes were, and how she noticed it. She hated that they seemed to draw her in as if they were black holes, and she was sinking deeper and deeper until she was lost. She hated the effect that Tom Riddle had on her, how after all this time, her heart still ached for him. It wasn’t fair— she was certain that Tom didn’t care for her, she’s known him since her first year, and now that they were nearing their end at Hogwarts, she loathed that she at times still wanted him to make a move on her.

She hated that her heart still burned and yearned for him, that after all her effort to forget about him, she still loved him. It wasn’t fair to Warren now that she’s drawn him in either, but it wasn’t that she didn’t like Warren. She’d admit that the warmth in his dark, angular eyes made her weak-kneed and that she quite enjoyed listening to all of his stories, and that he certainly was a sight to see whilst playing Quidditch.

But she knew she could never fully give herself to Warren— her love, she meant. Not when her heart was still in the clutches of Tom Riddle, not when he had been etched so deep inside of her that she hardly had the strength to let go.

“Warren Collins?” Tom repeated, grimacing as if his name tasted bitter on his tongue. “The Seeker on the Gryffindor team?”

“Yes, that’s the one,” Avery nodded. “Always been a bit of a twat, hasn’t he?”

“He and that Weasley bloke,” Lestrange grumbled. “Tell me. Is Warren even pure-blood? It’d sure explain a lot if he was a no good mudblood. Or even a blood traitor.” She flushed at this— she always hated this pure-blood, half-blood, muggle-born talk. She could never admit it, for she’d be chastised to no end, so she’d always kept her mouth shut. “Yes,” she answered through gritted teeth. “He’s pure-blood.”

“Phew. Well, that at least is a relief,” Avery snickered, and Lestrange joined in. But it was Tom she was looking at still— and Tom wasn’t laughing.

“Why were you with Warren Collins?” Tom questioned, and shifted in her seat, fiddling with her fingers in her lap.

“Haven’t you heard?” Avery asked. “She and Warren Collins are seeing each other. Have been for weeks.”

“Yeah. Think I heard from Parsley that they were snogging in Madam Pudifoot’s,” Lestrange added.

Tom clenched his jaw shut tight, and she thought she could melt into a puddle right then and there beneath his dark gaze. A silence ensued between the two of them, and neither cared to listen to whatever Avery and Lestrange were speaking about. She dared meet Tom’s eyes, and she suppressed the urge to shudder.

“Avery. Lestrange. Go to the dorm,” Tom said, and when the two boys began to protest, he snapped his head towards them and gave them the same look he’d given her. Needless to say, Avery and Lestrange didn’t dare say anything more before scurrying towards the boys’ dormitory.

Once they were gone, the fact that she was now alone with Tom Riddle in the common room itched at her brain, making her skin prickle. She began to tap her heels against the ground, every once in a while daring to glimpse up at him. He said nothing for a moment, for another moment, and another until the silence became deafening, like a thick, suffocating blanket. She could hardly breathe, the longer he kept her waiting in anticipation.

“So, this… Warren Collins… is the reason you’ve been late to all our meetings lately?” He asked, and she swore she felt her stomach do somersaults. She didn’t dare reply, didn’t even give him a nod. She knew this would only anger Tom further— and it did— but she had no idea what to say. “I’d say it’d do you well to answer me,” Tom added through gritted teeth, and she flinched at his tone.

Damn him.

“Forgive me, Tom,” she said carefully. “I really hadn’t meant to be late. I was… I was just— caught up and—“

“Caught up?” Tom interrupted, the wrinkle in his brow deepening. “It seems you’ve been a little more than caught up, if you ask me.”

Although she knew it would be better to fight against it, she couldn’t help but feel the kindling of her own fire of anger surge through her veins, and she rolled her fingers into her palm to form fists. They shook like little balls of anger, her fingernails burrowing into her robes. Tom seemed to have noticed this little change in her demeanor, the corner of his lips quirking up into the smallest of smirks, as if daring her to speak against him.

Damn him again.

“Honestly Tom, I don’t really see why you’re so upset,” she said almost coolly, and Tom tilted his head.

“Who said I was upset?” He asked, and she clenched her jaw. “I’m simply wondering where your priorities lie. You gave me an oath, a promise, and I expect you to uphold your end of the bargain, which includes being here on time when I ask you to.”

She blinked and for a brief moment, her gaze faltered. But she had already begun, and at this point, all of her frustrations from Tom not noticing her, not taking a chance on her, not wanting her were starting to ball in her chest, like a huge wad of rubber bands. One more rubber band added and she’d snap.

“Has the thought ever crossed your mind that I could have my own life?” She spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m not your little minion like Avery and Lestrange. I’ve followed you thus far Tom, and I admit, I do owe a lot to you. You were the first one to accept me and welcome me when I first came to Hogwarts. But I’m afraid I cannot be a follower anymore if it prevents me from living my own life.”

She was surprised at herself. She’d never really even thought of defying Tom before, and to actually say all of this out loud to him without stuttering once— she’d admit, she felt powerful.

But all of that power came crashing down the second Tom’s dark gaze deepened, his lids hooded over his eyes seemingly casting a shadow on his face. He looked nefarious.

The lump at the base of her throat felt a hundred pounds heavier than it was before, and once again, she found it difficult to breathe, as if Tom himself had reached into her chest and was squeezing the air out of her lungs. And even then, she found it difficult to stop feeling attracted towards him, and if anything, it only made him even more hypnotic.

This love inside her for him, dark and twisted as it was, only continued to blossom, her love for him like a virus infiltrating her cells, capturing her mind and heart and holding them in its possession. She knew then and there that every word she said that she thought held confidence were nothing but fruitless, every single syllable meaningless. Tom Riddle was like poison disguised as wine— no matter how hard she tried to resist, she would never be able to stop drinking.

That’s what made this love for him so dangerous. Her love for Tom held no boundaries, no doors or walls or barriers to keep it at bay. Sometimes, she wondered if Tom himself knew that.

“Fine then,” Tom spat, his voice laced with venom that seared her skin, “nothing is stopping you from leaving. Nothing is stopping you from living this own life of yours.” Tom leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, and her breath hitched in her throat as he drew nearer, hunching forward until they were eye to eye. “But I must remind you that nobody knows you better than I do,” he muttered lowly. “Nobody in this entire castle can read you like the back of their own hand like I can. Not even this Warren Collins of yours.”

She could feel her entire body quake at his words, and she pressed her lips together tighter than before, feeling them quiver. The quirk in Tom’s lips twitched before disappearing altogether, his expression blank as per usual as he pushed himself out of his seat, making his way over to the entrance to the boys’ dormitories.

“I suppose this is where we say goodbye,” Tom said, peering over his shoulder to where she still sat, shuddering on the sofa. She trembled— she knew that this was his way of foreshadowing that this would in fact not be the last they’ll see of each other.

She was grateful for Warren Collins the following morning at breakfast, for the second she entered the Great Hall, he had noticed her and waved her over towards the Gryffindor table. She glanced over to the Slytherin table where Tom, Avery, and Lestrange sat together, the latter two of the three glaring daggers her way when they spotted her.

Tom didn’t even spare her a glance.

She turned away and bounded towards the Gryffindor table, cautiously setting herself down on the bench beside Warren, painfully aware of the glances she was receiving from the other Gryffindors.

“So it’s official then?” Weasley, one of Warren’s best friends, asked through a mouthful of biscuits where he sat across the table from them. She pressed her hands together and squeezed them between her thighs, peering over at Warren as he smiled down at her before turning back to Weasley, resting his elbows against the table and shrugging as he took a bite of his piece of bacon. “Dunno what you’re asking, Weasley,” Warren chuckled. “We’ve just been having a good time together.”

Weasley and the boy beside him whom she didn’t recognize each grimaced at this, crumbs of biscuit tumbling from the side of Weasley’s mouth at this. The boy beside him with untidy dirty blonde hair slowed his chewing and contemplated spitting his food out altogether.

“Gross,” the boy uttered, and Warren threw his head back in laughter, leaning into her which she took as her queue to giggle. “It’s nothing like that,” Warren shook his head, his friends furrowing their eyebrows. “‘Nothing like that?’” Weasley repeated. “Word is the two of you have been spotted snogging at Madam Pudifoot’s. How can I believe that it’s ‘nothing like that?’”

Warren laughed again, but everything sounded like an echo as she toyed with the piece of toast on her plate. Her mind was still full of everything that had happened the night before in the Slytherin common room, her head racing with repeats of everything Tom had said.

“Nobody in this entire castle can read you like the back of their own hand like I can. Not even this Warren Collins of yours.”

If she hadn't known any better, she would say that Tom was jealous. But it was Tom she was talking about— the boy who would say whatever one would like to hear just so he could get his way. Perhaps he was aware of this sick and twisted love she had for him, maybe he was taking full advantage of it to use against her to make her do whatever he pleased.

Why did the thought almost seem thrilling to her?

Damn him once again.

“Hey,” Warren muttered close to her ear, and she turned to face him, his eyebrows knit in concern. “Are you alright? You were spacing out there for a moment.”

Her heart ached. Here she was, sitting next to a kind and genuine boy who really liked her, and all she could think about was Tom, who was anything but. And she knew that she liked Warren too, but she hated that she could never love him the way she loved Tom. She could try though, she could try to love him just the same.

She did her best to give him an assuring smile, “yes, I’m sorry,” she shook her head. “I just… I didn’t get much sleep last night. Am just a little tired, that’s all.”

The furrow in his brow only deepened and he reached up to the frown of her head, wiping loose strands of hair away from her face and behind her ear. She could feel heat creep up to her cheeks when he did, and she watched as his full, pink lips curved into a soft smile.

“Promise you’ll try and get some rest later?” He asked. “Would hate to see you get exhausted and overwork yourself.” He leaned in closer, his breath hot as it fanned over her face. “Although, I must say… you still look as beautiful as ever today.”

Damn Warren Collins. Damn him for being so sweet.

She blinked down at her lap and gave him a small nod. “Yes. Of course.”

Warren’s smile widened more to reveal his pearly whites, and he licked his thumb before pressing his palms against the top of the table, pushing himself out of his seat. “Well good, because you wouldn’t want to miss the Quidditch match of the year!” He exclaimed as Weasley, the boy with dirty blonde hair, and a few other Gryffindors joined his cheering. “We have to get ready for the match,” Warren said down to her, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. “I’ll be looking for you in the stands.”

She smiled, and with that, he was off, laughing with the Gryffindor Quidditch team as they exited the Great Hall, and it was then that it occurred to her that she was the only Slytherin at the Gryffindor table. She couldn’t help but notice the way some of the other Gryffindors gave her sideways glances, and she took one more bite of toast before she, too, stood from her seat, not daring to look even once in the direction of her House table as she left the Great Hall.

Despite all of her mulling over what Tom had said the previous night, she thought she could at least find solace in the fact that in all her time at Hogwarts, she hadn’t seen Tom attend one Quidditch match. She felt relieved and found some comfort in hoping that she wouldn’t have to run into him there, and as she reached the top of the steps of one of the Slytherin stands and didn’t see him at all amongst the crowd, she felt a weight being lifted from her chest.

She found her seat in the second to last row besides two gossiping fourth year girls, a small smile creeping up onto her face as she gazed down at the Quidditch pitch below.

“Well, I heard from Laurie Gale that Robert Thompson was seen holding hands with Katherine Canton, you know, that girl that looks like a dugbog? And that they were—“

That was about as much of the fourth year girls’ conversation she could hear before the crowd erupted into applause as the two Quidditch teams entered the pitch, and she was quick to find Warren Collins’ wavy raven black hair at the front of the Gryffindor team, right beside the team’s Captain.

“Oh!” One of the fourth year girls beside her squealed. “That Neil Lament is quite dreamy, isn’t he?”

She grimaced at this as she glanced over at Slytherin’s Captain and Seeker, Neil Lament. She supposed that some people were nothing if not for their poor accounting in taste.

She watched as the two Captains shook hands, and with the whistle, both teams were off. She kept her attention on Warren as he soared through the air, shouting things over to Weasley and one of the girls on the Gryffindor team. She found it somewhat relaxing to watch Warren as he flew across the pitch, searching for the Snitch. Neither Avery, Lestrange, or Tom were here, and at the very least, she could get her mind off of things and just focus on Warren.

Warren stopped just before the Slytherin stand she sat in, his eyes searching the bleachers before finally falling upon her. His eyes crinkled as he smiled, giving her a wink and a salute before he was off again, in search of the Snitch.

She couldn’t help but flush as heads turned her way.

“Quite the charmer that Collins is, isn’t he?”

Her face fell the moment she heard it, and she felt sick to her stomach. Slowly, she turned to her left where none other than Tom Riddle sat, the Head Boy badge on his chest gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight. The corner of his lips quirked in that damned smirk of his as her own lips fell agape, all sounds hitching at her throat.

He raised an eyebrow, “surprised to see me?”

Surprised, she thought, was an understatement.

“Since… since when do you come to Quidditch matches?” She managed to ask, and he shrugged, turning to gaze over the Quidditch pitch. “Never been too fond of Quidditch,” he sighed. “I thought it was such a waste of time. Why watch a bunch of fools fly around on broomsticks when you could be doing so much more with your time instead?”

She blinked and turned away from him, watching as Neil Lament shoved himself into Warren’s side, most likely in intent to throw him off his broom.

“But, seeing as your new little boyfriend is Gryffindor’s hotshot…” Tom shrugged. “…just thought I’d come out and see for myself.”

She gulped down the vileness in her throat, her own saliva tasting like bile. Everything she had hoped for before— to forget about Tom, to try and give herself to Warren the way she always knew she’d be willing to give herself to Tom— all of it was dangerously close to being gone.

And it was all because Tom Riddle decided to show up.

“Why.. why can’t you just leave me be?” She asked, feeling her voice as it broke in the end. Tom turned back to face her, his eyelids once again hooded over his dark eyes, casting a shadow over his face.

“Why?” He repeated. She waited for him to continue. “Why… I told you already that no one can read you like the back of their hand like I can.” He looked up just as Warren and Neil flew over their heads, pointing up at the Gryffindor boy. “That boy will never understand you the way I do.”

She scrunched her face in a scowl, “how do you know that?” She questioned. Tom smirked again and leaned in close until their noses were almost touching, and in a low murmur, he said, “because no one knows all the things you’ve done like I do.”

Her bones rattled and quake in his words’ wake, and seemingly satisfied, Tom leaned away and arose from his seat, making his way back down the stands. She blinked after him.

And followed him.

And that was what made her love for him so dangerous. That he could belittle her and manipulate her in whatever way he pleased, and she’d still come crawling back to him like a kicked puppy. She had really the perfect boy worshiping the ground she walked on— Warren Collins, star Seeker of the Gryffindor team, with a promising future— and still, she couldn’t quite seem to get enough of Tom Riddle.

Tom Riddle was an enigma, a strange, dark, and twisted enigma. But he was beautiful all the same, alluring even. Sometimes she wondered if he had put her under the Imperius Curse, with how many times a day she thought of him, with how much she wanted him.

When she finally caught up with Tom, he turned as she touched his arm the moment they had reached the bottom of the stairs. She said nothing, only stared into his eyes, letting herself sink further and further down into the dark and treacherous depths of his soul.

Tom smiled.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist,” he muttered, grabbing her wrist and leading her underneath the Slytherin stands which groaned and creaked above them from the weight of the amount of people on the top of it. They were protected by the green banners on all four sides, as if they veiled away the rest of the world, leaving no one but the two of them.

Tom locked his fingers with hers and pushed her against one of the wooden beams, raising her hand above her head and holding it there against the pole. She gasped as he pressed his body against hers, his breath hot as it fanned her face. He was taller than her, towered over her even, and it only made her feel even smaller the way he looked at her.

“Didn’t think I’d notice the way you’ve stared at me ever since the day we met?” He asked, his other hand feeling down the side of her robes, and she shuddered beneath his touch. “You were just a scared little first year then. At first, I wondered why the Sorting Hat even bothered putting a weakling like you in Slytherin.”

She squinted and whimpered as he forced his knee between her legs, feeling the pressure against her clothed sex. It throbbed against him, heat engulfing her in flames in embarrassment. The crowd cheered above them as the announcer’s voice boomed that Slytherin had scored another ten points.

“But, I must say… you’ve proven yourself,” he muttered as his fingers crept their way to the hem of her skirt, slithering their way down past the waistband of both it and her underwear like a snake. Her lips fell agape and she gasped when the pad of his middle finger just barely grazed her clit. “In fact, I trust you more than both Avery and Lestrange combined.”

His fingers ventured further down her slit until they reached her entrance, and he carefully teased it, her head throwing itself back against the wooden beam behind her. Tom’s chuckle came out as more of a breath as he removed his fingers from her entrance to slide them back up, up, up until they reached her clit yet again as it throbbed for him, aching to be touched. She could hear how wet she was even over all of the noise above them.

“But look at you now,” he uttered as he traced circles over the sensitive bud, a long, drawn out mewl emitting from her lips. “The girlfriend of Warren Collins, letting the Head Boy touch her like a whore.”

She pressed her lips together and reached up to his bicep with her hand not being held back by Tom, squeezing his arm. “T…Tom…” she gasped when he applied just a little more pressure, making all the more difference. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip and pinched it so hard, she feared she’d draw blood.

“You just can’t resist, can you?” He asked, nuzzling his nose against hers before his lips grazed over her ear. “You love me… don’t you?” He whispered beside her ear and she moaned when he added another finger to the mix, applying even more pressure than before. “You’ve always thought about me like this, about me pleasuring you, about me fucking you, haven’t you?”

He dropped his forehead onto hers as he rubbed at her clit harder before stopping his movements altogether to instead run his digits back down her slit, down, down until they reached her entrance. At once, he dipped two fingers into her, and she arched her back and cried out, searching for his lips. She wanted to kiss him, she wanted to kiss him so badly.

Tom only chuckled and turned his head away, resting the side of his face on her forehead. “You‘ve thought about me fingering you like this,” he muttered close to her ear. “You’ve thought about me doing all these filthy things to you, about me kissing you, about me holding your hand, about me loving you.”

Her knees began to wobble as he pried his fingers apart inside of her in scissoring movements, reaching places so deep inside of her that not even she had reached with her own digits. “T…Tom,” she mewled again, and he laughed.

“You must really love me then, huh?” He whispered as he picked up his pace, the tips of his fingers hitting that spongy spot inside of her, and her chest heaved and her breath quickened and her back arched and her fingernails buried themselves into the shoulder of his robe and her other hand struggled against his and—

—oh, she was close. She was so close, she could feel her end just as it almost began. Tom could feel it too, and he picked up the pace again, practically slamming his fingers inside of her, as if he were digging her orgasm right out of her.

“Warren Collins has caught the Golden Snitch! Warren Collins earns Gryffindor another one hundred and fifty points, ending the game with Gryffindor with 230 points and Slytherin with 190! Gryffindor wins!”

Applause roared from above just as her body began to spasm and she just about hit her climax, her arm not locked above her head clinging onto Tom for dear. He leaned in and dropped his forehead to hers, gazing deep into her eyes, and she stared back.

“Come for me. Come all over my fingers while your boyfriend celebrates.”

She hated that his words turned her on even more. She obliged, her fingernails almost tearing the fabric of Tom’s robes as she came, her juices spilling down Tom’s fingers where he kept them still nestled deep inside of her. Her nectar created a pool in her underwear when Tom finally slipped his fingers out of her, her underwear snapping shut against her aching clit when he retracted his hand, and she whimpered from the friction.

Her chest heaved as she chased air back into her lungs and watched as Tom brought his fingers to his mouth, still maintaining eye contact as he sucked on his digits, licking them of her release. She whimpered as she watched him, and when he removed his fingers from his mouth, he smiled.

“Do try to make yourself look presentable,” he said as he dusted off his robes, turning to leave. He peered at her from over his shoulder, “your boyfriend is waiting.”

a/n; thank you so much for the request anon! i’m glad you requested for warren collins to be included, he was fun to come up with in call me by my name but he was so fun to write in this one! i’m honestly proud of how i wrote here which doesn’t happen a lot but it feels good! i hope you all enjoy! and don’t hesitate to send in any requests you may have! refer to my pinned post where you can view the list of characters i write for! feel free to join my taglist as well!

| 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

@darkmoviesquotespizza 🥹🫶✨

#tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #harry potter imagine #harry potter fandom #harry potter fic #harry potter #wizarding world #tom riddle smut

570 notes · View notes