#flux controller

[roddity]

Was Marble's name decided between Bumblebee and Breakdown long before she was born?

yes - maybe some time after bee decided to keep her.

*'marbles' also refers to the small bits of rubber that accumulate on the sides of the track during a race from tyre wear. you Do Not want to drive over them as they're slippery, so drivers try to avoid them.

it was more like a nickname and it ended up sticking. i don't imagine they'd be very good at naming haha

[andmaybegayer]

sucks that controlling heat on a stove relies on an extremely opaque measurement that humans really don't have vocabulary for. How do you discuss heat flux without relying on engineering terminology.

[yongseungkim]

.

[h2llish]

remind me to never gain romantic feelings for someone again

[not-neverland06]

we're dating? ♡

logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've decided using the same X-men name/powers for the reader in my Logan fics is easier because coming up with superpowers is hard and stupid. They call you flux, like once, it's really just a nickname incoming warning for fluff so bad you'll get a cavity Summary: You're on probation from the team and official house arrest after a little accident with your powers. Logan knows you're going stir-crazy so he takes you to the arcade for some fun. And then your friendship takes a weird turn. (80's timeline in mind, but characters not from the 80’s will be mentioned) Clueless!reader

You’d had an accident, a few weeks ago. Well, accident might be downplaying it too much. You’d destroyed the garden and left a ten-foot crater in the backyard of Charles’ prestigious grounds. In your defense, you had warned them all that it wasn’t a good idea to take your cuffs off. 

The metal bands are entirely necessary to make sure you can’t lose control and wipe out everything around you. Manipulation at an atomic level is beyond fatal. You don’t want to think about what would have happened if you’d had the meltdown and the kids were anywhere near you. 

Charles had been able to shut you down, but now he’s keeping you on probation. You’ve been locked up in the mansion, unable to leave until you managed to get your abilities under control. There’s never been a problem with wearing the cuffs before. You don’t understand why he’s so against them now. 

You’re going stir-crazy. There’s only so many times you can pace your room before you start to lose your mind. He’s not even letting you teach classes anymore. You’re stuck training, all day, every day. 

“Focus!” Charles snaps and you resist the urge to turn his bones liquid. Maybe that would get him off your back. 

Instead of killing your friend, you glare at the large tank of water in front of you. You do what you’ve been doing for the past half hour. It fluctuates from liquid to gas to solid, and then liquid again. An endless cycle of repetition that makes you want to melt your brain so you don’t have to do this anymore. 

You drop your hand and huff. “This is pointless, Charles. What’s this even teaching me?”

He crosses his arms, walks over to you, and pointedly glares at the tank in front of you. You roll your eyes and look back at it. “Shit,” you hiss. In your frustration, the glass has cracked and splintered into dust. Water pools around your stool and leaks through the wood of the floor. You flick your wrist, the glass swirling around you before reforming into the tank. The water follows along, droplets lifting from the floor and dropping back into the container. 

“One moment of frustration, of distraction. That’s all it took.” Charles shakes his head and walks back over to his desk. He picks the cuffs up and you slip them silently back onto your wrists. “How can you be trusted to protect your team on the field if you can’t control this? What are you going to do when you’re panicked and fighting for your life?”

Shame bubbles in your gut. It makes you nauseous and forces your eyes to the floor so you don’t have to face him. He sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently. You glance up at him briefly and he offers a strained smile. 

“This is for your protection, as much as you hate it, Flux. It’s necessary.” You scoff at the use of your X-Men name. Not much of an X-Man if you’re not even on the field anymore. 

“Right,” you mutter. “Thanks for the lesson in incompetency,” you don’t let him respond and slam the door to his office closed behind you. You feel bad the second you get outside and onto the porch. He doesn’t deserve your bitchiness. It’s your own fault you can’t get a handle on this. You don't have anyone to blame but yourself. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, throwing yourself into a rocking chair and running your hands over your face. The once comforting weight of your cuffs is now oppressing. It just feels like a constant reminder of your failure. You should already have a handle on all of this, but you struggle to even manipulate water. 

“Rough day?” You don’t open your eyes as Logan walks by. He takes a seat on the rocking chair beside you, letting out a low groan as he stretches. 

You let your hands drop into your lap, staring at the sunset so you don’t have to face him. You’ve already dealt with enough dejection today. You don’t need to look at him and be reminded that you want him in a way you can never have. 

“Mhm,” you hum, propping your head in your hand as you watch the sun disappear behind the clouds. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange that seem too hopeful for how you feel right now. 

Logan chuckles, the sound low and gravely. It makes your heart stutter in your chest and you cringe in embarrassment. You know he can hear the way your heart practically beats free of your ribs when you’re around him. You’re sure with that nose of his he can smell some sort of hormonal change in you every time you lay eyes on him. 

You swear you’ve never felt this way about a man before. You haven’t had many boyfriends before, it’s not really common among mutants. Not many people are accepting of you when they know what you are. And some people are too into you. 

But you've had crushes, and none of them have been as bad as this one is. You want to gnaw on him. It sounds fucking insane every time you think about it. But when you train with him and he tears his shirt off, you want to sink your teeth into him and never let go. 

You feel feral around him, a side of you surfacing that you’re not used to. Maybe it’s because of his mutant abilities. They are very animalistic, it’s easy to blame that on how desperately you crave him. 

You hate being around him and despise not being in his presence. It’s conflicting, and more often than not you sound like a bumbling idiot when you speak to him because your brain is going in a million different directions. 

You hear the familiar click of his lighter and then he shifts again. You risk a peek over at him and regret it the second you do. His head is tilted back, eyes closed in relaxation as he stretches across the porch. Smoke leaks out of his lips as he groans in satisfaction. 

You have to pick your jaw up off the floor and make sure there isn’t drool on your chin. This is insane. You’re a grown woman, how does he have this much of an effect on you? He’s not even doing anything! He’s just sitting there and you want to jump his bones. 

You whip your head around, mumbling incoherently to yourself to get it together. Logan peaks an eye open and you miss the mischievous tilt to his lips. “Something wrong?”

I need to have sex with you or I’m going to explode. 

You stutter for a few seconds, getting your mind back together. “Just training with Charles,” you mutter. 

He sits up a little straighter and quirks a brow. When you don’t continue he sighs. “And?” He prods, impatient for your answer. You hope you’re not reading into it, but you think he’s been as disappointed by your absence from the team as you are. He always complains about being partnered up with Scott. You like to think it’s because he misses you. But you’re probably just delusional. 

“And, nothing,” you sigh. Your hands flop against your legs and you glare at the bands on your wrists. “No progress. I still can’t control them without these on, and my abilities are watered down and useless with the cuffs.”

Logan huffs, you’re caught off guard by the sudden warmth on your thigh. You glance down, eyes widening ever so slightly when you see his hand on your leg. It nearly covers the whole thing and when he squeezes your thigh you think you’re going to pass out. 

You’re friendly. But you’ve never been touchy. At least not like this. The placement of his palm is very intimate and you are struggling not to just get on your knees and profess your undying love. You take in a deep breath, looking up at him so you can get your heartbeat under control. 

But looking at him just makes it worse. Because there is so much faith and fondness in his gaze as he looks at you. His lips are tilted up, eyes soft, and you’ve never had someone make you feel so warm and secure from just a look. 

“You aren’t useless,” he tells you. He squeezes your thigh again before he retreats back to his chair. You have to clamp your jaw shut so you don’t beg him to keep touching you and never stop. “You’re just stuck in this house all day. You’ve got nothing to do but sit in your failure.”

You scoff and throw yourself back in your seat. “Don’t remind me. I’ve begged Charles to let me out.” Your gaze drifts to the crater in the backyard. Some of the kids have been working on filling it in, but whatever energy you’d let go of has left a permanent mark. “He refuses to give me permission.”

Logan laughs, the noise teasing and a little mean. Your brows furrow and you glance over at him with a questioning look. He tilts his head in disbelief like you’re an idiot. “Seriously, Flux? Just fuckin’ leave, who gives a shit?”

“Uh,” you think on it for a minute before weakly settling on, “Charles?”

His face falls and you sink lower into your seat. He looks out at the yard, gaze distant. His jaw clenches a few times before he puts the cigar out on the ashtray beside him. He gets to his feet and you think he might just leave. Instead, he turns towards you. 

You’re caught off guard by the little smirk on his face. “Wanna have some fun?”

Only an idiot would say no. 

You grin and place your hand in his, yelping slightly at how easily he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his chest and are hesitant to back away when his hand drifts to rest on your waist. He looks down at you, smiling, he squeezes your waist once before he backs up. 

“Come on, kid.” He tugs you inside the house, leading you downstairs to the garage. You already know what he’s going for before the door is even open. 

“Didn’t Scott tell you to leave his bike alone?” Logan takes a step inside. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder and grinning at you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, the happiness on his face. You never see him like this around the others. 

You hate thinking like that. Placing too much importance on your relationship with him will only lead to heartbreak down the road. But, you never see him act the way he does with you with anyone else.

“Since when have I ever listened to Cyclops, sweetheart?” 

“Good point,” you mutter, moving to stand next to him. 

He straddles the seat and looks over expectantly at you. “Don’t you need a helmet?”

You shake your head, “Oh, no, it’ll ruin my hair.” You laugh but he gives you a deadpan look. You don’t regenerate the way he does. An accident would be a lot more fatal for you than it would be for him. You huff, “Relax, Lo, I can use my powers.” When he looks like he’s not going to drop it, you let some energy swirl around your fingers. It solidifies the air around your skin, you reach up and flick at his skull hard enough to hear the metal ding. 

He grunts, glaring down at your hand while you grin. “See,” you whisper, sliding onto the back of the bike and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m perfectly safe.” He shakes his head and starts the bike. 

The ride to the arcade is spent in silence. Logan always seems to break every speeding law known to man whenever he takes Scott’s bike out. You’re not sure if he does it to purposefully piss the man off, but it makes you cling to him like a wild animal. You feel like if you hit one speed bump you’re going to go flying. 

By the time he parks your legs feel like jello. He laughs a little at the way your face has blanched. Again, he offers you a hand and holds the door open to lead you inside. You’re trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this whole thing is odd. 

You guys are friends. And you’re friendlier with each other than most of the mutants in the school. But this feels different somehow. For one, Logan kind of despises the arcade. It’s an amalgamation of bad smells and loud noises, and it overwhelms his already sensitive senses. You’ve heard him complain about the smell of body odor and fake cheese enough times when you went on a field trip with the kids. 

Secondly, he’s being more touchy than he normally would. You’re not complaining. You weren’t exactly hugged a lot as a kid, mainly just passed between different mutant fetish clubs. Logan isn’t known for handing hugs out so easily. But right now, he doesn’t seem to be ready to not have at least one hand on you. 

Maybe he’s just cheering you up. You need to stop drifting so far into your mind and just enjoy the night. “Alright, what’s first bub?”

You grin and drag him towards the claw machine. “I’m horrible at these things,” you inform him as you put your quarters in. “But, I hold out hope that one day I’ll be able to actually beat this monster.”

Three failed attempts later, it’s become embarrassingly clear that you will never beat the claw machine. Logan isn’t even trying to hide his amusement as you become increasingly more frustrated. There’s a certain point where this game stops being fun and starts to be an affront to your character. 

Logan peers into the machine and asks, “What are you going for?”

“The pigeon,” you mutter. Your tongue pokes between your lips, and your eyes narrow in concentration. You aim the claw over the pigeon perfectly and slam your hand down on the big red button. 

You’re allowed five seconds of celebration before the damn thing slips out of the claws grasp and tumbles into the pile of stuffies below. “Dammit, Bart,” you let the ridiculous name you’ve come up with for the toy slip.

Logan snorts, leaning against the glass while you jam another quarter in the slot. “Bart?” He teases. 

You shake your head and give him a look out the side of your eye. “What, you think I call myself Flux because I’m good at coming up with names?” You give up after the last failed attempt and turn to face him with a huff. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Tough luck, kid.” He slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards the concession stand. 

“Shut up,” you laugh, slapping lightly at his chest. 

The rest of the night is nice. He doesn’t play much except for the strength-oriented games. And then you kind of just exploit him for more tickets. By the time you get back to the mansion, you’ve forgotten all about why you were upset in the first place. 

Nothing had gone wrong, you didn’t have a total meltdown and wipe out the entire arcade. You don’t know why Charles was so afraid of letting you out. 

Logan walks you back to your room, his hand heavy on your lower back as you head up the stairs. You’re talking endlessly, filling up any gap of silence with rambling you’ve lost track of. You don’t know what it is about him that invites you to yap the way you do, but you’re always embarrassed by it the second he leaves. 

You reach your door and smile up at him. “Thanks, Lo.”

He gives you a soft smile, his eyes wrinkling endearingly at the corners. He reaches up and brushes some hair off your shoulder. There’s a certain shift in his expression that has your breath stopping short. Whatever else you were going to say to him tumbles off into an incomprehensible whisper. 

He leans down and every inappropriate thought you’ve ever had about him suddenly surges to the front of your mind. Your lips part in anticipation, thinking he’s going to kiss you and your fantasies are going to come to life. 

His lips brush against your cheek so gently you almost don’t feel them. “‘Night Flux,” he leans back and your body goes with him. He backs off with a smile, walking down the hall to his own room. You feel dazed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as you fan your cheeks and try to come to terms with what just happened.

He didn’t kiss you, but you oddly aren’t disappointed. You go to bed that night with a lovesick grin on your face. Well, you would have. Were it not for the annoyingly British voice ringing out in your head, “Training’s at four tomorrow morning. Consider it your punishment for sneaking out.”

“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. Stupid fucking telepaths. 

You thought the arcade was a one-off moment. But Logan keeps sneaking you out of the mansion. Charles hasn’t officially lifted the house arrest, but he’s given up trying to keep you inside. Besides, you’ve essentially got a chaperone since Logan is always with you. 

You make lunch for the two of you and he’ll take you out to the woods for a picnic. Or you’ll go to the movies together. Sometimes you don’t even do anything, just linger around each other. You enjoy the company, and you love having these quiet moments together with no one else around. 

Your favorite part of all of this has to be the way he’s started touching you. He’s always got a hand on your leg or back. And if he can’t do that, then you’re tucked into his side. It’s feeding into a starved part of you that you’ve left neglected for far too long. 

It’s only been about two weeks of these fun little adventures and odd behavior. You’re dreading the moment they’ll stop. You’re not sure when Logan’s going to deem you properly cheered up, but you’re hoping it’s not anytime soon. 

There have been a few more moments where you think your friendship might turn into something more, and every time you’ve been interrupted. You’re actually starting to feel a little edged. You’ve been considering just grabbing him and planting one on him. But every time you think about it you get sick to your stomach. 

You don’t want to make a move on him and end up getting rejected. You know he’s just being a good friend and taking care of you so you don’t end up spiraling too far in your head. It’s happened before, when you’ve been struggling with your abilities. He’s just keeping you from shutting down again and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable because you’re hopelessly in love. 

When you walk out of your room this morning you’re immediately smacked in the face. “What the fuck, guys?” You yell at the two kids running past your room. Not the best language for someone who's supposed to be a role model. You can’t be bothered though, not when they’re running around throwing pink rolls of streamer at your face. 

“Sorry!” Mary calls over her shoulder, laughing as she pins a heart up onto the wall. You’re sure Charles won’t appreciate the hole in his old ass mahogany wood. It’s only as you watch her run down the stairs that you register just what is going on. 

There is pink and red everywhere. It looks like Dollar Store Cupid has thrown up all over the mansion. You’ve been so caught up in your attraction to Logan that, ironically, you’ve forgotten what month it was. 

You grumble bitterly to yourself as you trudge down the stairs. Another Valentine’s Day alone and single. How lovely. You spot two kids giggling to themselves by the banister, they lean in like they’re going to kiss and you gag. “Hey!” You snap, and they jump apart, eyes wide with fear. “Quit it, get out of here.” They scramble off and you feel just a little bit vindicated. 

“Not a fan of young love, Flux?”

You groan and roll your eyes, turning around to find a very smug Scott watching you bully teenagers. “Shut it, Summers,” you warn. You point an accusing finger at him and he raises his hands in surrender. Faux innocence played across his insufferable smirk. “When you’re in a committed relationship, you don’t get to judge me.”

His brows turn down in confusion, “Wait, but aren’t you and Logan-”

He’s cut off by the sound of a loud crash down the hall. You both turn around just as one of the classroom doors slams open. A bright pink explosion hurtles from the doors and a throng of coughing students follows. 

Jubilee walks out a minute later, a guilty expression on her face. “Sorry, I was just trying to make it more Vanetine-y.” 

You glance over at Scott, grinning widely at him while you pat his shoulder and walk past him, leaving him to clean up the mess. “Enjoy the young love, Summers.”

You actively avoid Logan all day. You’re already facing constant reminders of how lonely you are. You see kids walking around with baskets of bears and chocolates. Or you catch them passing notes in class with scribbled hearts all over the front. 

There’s only so much a girl can take before she loses it. The last thing you need is to be faced with the man you have the worst unrequited crush on in history. But he doesn’t seem to get the hint. He’s everywhere you go, popping up around corners and trying to catch your attention. 

You keep brushing him off and pretending like you have something urgent you’re going to be late for. Eventually, though, he was going to catch up with you. 

It happens in the kitchen. Most of the kids are in their rooms or the library. The noise has died down and you’re alone. You grumble to yourself, ripping down a pink streamer that keeps drifting across the top of your head and pissing you off. You grab a frozen meal from the fridge and are about to microwave it when he speaks. 

“Huh, thought you’d want something a little more romantic than a frozen burrito.” 

You gasp, clutching your chest and whirling around on him while your heart races. “Logan, Jesus, you scared me.” He’s frowning at you, eyes glaring at the frozen package in your hand. “Um,” you toss it back in the freezer but the look on his face isn’t going away. “Yeah, I might just go with cereal instead.”

He looks at you and then glances behind him. You peer around his shoulder but you don’t see anything. Without much warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the stairs. “Logan?” There’s no point in trying to resist him, he could just toss you up the stairs if he wanted to. Still, the silence is kind of creeping you out. 

You call his name a few more times but give up when he makes it clear he’s not going to be answering you anytime. There’s a rotten feeling in your stomach. You have this awful idea like you’re in trouble for something. Like a little girl who's gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar too many times. 

He stops you in front of his door and nods towards it. “You want me to go inside?” He crosses his arms and glares down at you. You huff and mutter, “Jesus, fine.” What the hell is wrong with him?

You grab the doorknob to his room, glaring at him while you do. You throw the door open dramatically, taking a step inside and surveying the area. “Wow,” you suck your teeth and shake your head. “You have not decorated at all.”

“Shut up, smartass,” he mutters in your ear. Chills prick at your skin from his proximity. A shudder goes down your spine as the low tone of his voice reverberates through you. “Look a little harder.”

You roll your eyes but acquiesce. Another run over the room finally shows you what you missed. You gasp and rush towards his bed, “Holy shit, Bart!” He chuckles behind you as you pick the stuffed pigeon up. 

“Went back for him after we left,” Logan tells you. 

You glare at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How many tries did this take you?” He mouths a smug one and you roll your eyes in irritation. You look back down at the pigeon and smile.

He smells like the inside of a claw machine. His head is sewed on crookedly and you’re pretty sure he’s missing an eye. But he’s absolutely perfect to you. You’re about to thank Logan when you spot something metal wrapped around the stuffie’s neck. “What’s this,” you mumble to yourself. 

You slide your fingers under the chain and tug it off Bart’s neck. Logan’s dog tags dangle off your fingers and you stare at him in shock. A sudden cold dread washes over you and you find yourself immobile. “Logan,” you trail off, an unspoken question following his name. 

He smirks, walking towards you and slipping the tags out of your hand. “I wanted you to have this,” he says, his voice low like this moment is too precious to break, “so you know you’re not alone. You’re always so afraid of what’s going to happen if you lose control out in the field. But you forget, you’re not alone. You have me, you’re always going to have me.” He places the tags over your neck, untucking your hair from the chain. 

You don’t even have words for him. It’s such a deeply personal gift. But this also feels incredibly intimate. There’s no possible way for you to reason this away. This isn’t something “just friends” do. 

He seems to prefer your silence, anyway. One of his hands drifts from your neck and cups your jaw. With the utmost tenderness, he lifts your face to his. “Wanted to do this for a while,” he whispers. You almost ask what he’s talking about, but his lips are already covering yours. 

It’s incredibly soft, this kiss, softer than you’re used to. He’s barely putting any pressure on you and it makes you realize that you’re still not moving. You’re just standing there in shock, eyes wide open while the man you’ve wanted since you’ve known him kisses you. 

You drop Bart to the floor and your arms come up to twine around his neck. You finally close your eyes, let your body melt into his knowing he’ll catch you. The second you reciprocate he really kisses you. Neither of you hold back, each of you pouring all the pent-up desire you’ve felt for each other. 

You’ve spent so long dancing around this, around each other. It’s like a missing puzzle piece is returned to you as Logan holds you. You feel full, complete, warmer than you ever have before. 

You part from him - needing air - painfully slow. You don’t want to spend a second away from him now that you have him. You wish you didn’t have to breathe. Wished you could have kept kissing him and never stopped. 

Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss against your forehead like he can read your thoughts. You can feel the dorky smile that’s about to split your cheeks. You bite your lip, hoping it might suppress it, but you know it’s pointless. 

You look up at him with a cheeky twinkle in your eye. “Are you asking me to be your Valentine, Lo?”

He scoffs and pulls away from you slightly. “Do you have to ask your girlfriend to be your Valentine?”

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes rapidly. “I- Well- I mean,” you take a full step back from him and shake your head. “What?” You finally settle on. “I mean, I’m not objecting, at all, but what?”

Logan tilts his head, a disbelieving look on his face. “What do you think we’ve been doing the past three weeks?”

You shake your head, stuttering and struggling for an answer. “I don’t know. I thought you were being a good friend!”

He smiles, there’s no irritation on his face at your cluelessness. If anything he seems to be more endeared to you. “You think I take all my friends on romantic picnics in the woods?”

You sigh, letting out a long disappointed breath. You can’t believe you’ve been so blind. When you think about it, his behavior lately makes a lot more sense. You’re not sure how you were able to trick yourself for so long. 

“Well,” you start, walking back towards him as he pulls you into a hug, “certainly not Scott.” He huffs and shakes his head. You give him a sheepish smile, brows knitted together. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating this whole time.”

He just presses another kiss to your temple and shrugs. “It’s alright, sweetheart, you can make it up to me by being my Valentine again next year.”

There’s something unspoken in his voice. A promise that he’s planning to be around for a lot longer than a year. You smile at him, silently promising the same. “Only if you’re mine.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

a/n: i’m gonna gag actually. Made myself cringe there at the end. I want a valentine next year so bad, it’s sad. But what’s the point of a valentine if it’s not going to be Logan?

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

[queerasflux]

i hate my apartment's shitty management so fucking much i hope they all explode

[lostbrazilian]

I love the implication that there's an individual switch for each ball

[daddysbutch]

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New Year's - butch/butch/butch/butch/butch/butch group sex - Charlie and her friends go to a kink party for New Year's Eve.

One-shot originals

Against the Ropes - butch/butch - Tensions run high in the boxing ring between rivals.

Amateurs - butch/butch/butch/butch - Some butch friends film amateur porn in a parking lot, and get caught.

Bittersweet Rivals - butch/butch - Two basketball rivals meet at the bar and work out their rivalry on the dancefloor.

BOY TOY - butch/butch - A couple explores a "BOY TOY" collar fantasy together, and acts it out in the bedroom.

Butch Bros - butch/butch - Two butch buds hang out and have a good time on the couch.

Butch Cocksuckers - butch/butch/butch - A set of roommates work on their communication together.

Chastity - butch/butch - A closeted, repressed baby butch gets corrupted by a filthy, greedy butch top.

Gym Rat - butch/butch - A gym bro follows a silver fox to the showers.

Library Stacks - butch/butch/butch - Two students find a creative way to study in the library, and they get caught.

Oil Change - butch/butch - Jack's friend needs some help in the garage.

Road Trip - butch/butch - A country boy and a city boy take a road trip together, and the city boy misbehaves.

Suit and Tie - butch/butch - Two butches get dressed up for the opera and don't make it out the door.

Tough Guy - butch/butch - A heartbroken butch goes to the bar, flagging black on the right.

Use Me - butch/butch - A drink on the couch becomes more when the boy learns how to ask for what he wants.

Audio erotica

Dev Ill/thedevilisadyke: butch4butch audio library

Closer Than Ever and Game Time on Dipsea (paid or 7 day free trial) - masc lesbian friends have a Dyke Night that starts with a friendly massage / They go to a bar and realize their prospects aren't as hot as each other

Masc for Masc on TryQuinn (paid or 7 day free trial) https://www.tryquinn.com/audio/masc-for-masc

The entire butch4butch tag on Gone Wild Audio Sapphic (/r/gwasapphic)

Video porn

Fagdyke Cruising

Shutter

Blue Room

Butch4Butch Daddy boy scene

Butch vs butch lesbians

Butch & Butch

Sid Blankovich and Jiz Lee

Adina and Saffron

Daddi Dice and Red Jackhammer

Dallas and Syd Blakovich

Two lesbian butches having anal sex

Butch on fire

Real girlfriends

The rest of the butch4butch tag on PINKLABEL.tv

Am I missing something? Reblog and link to it!

[hedwig221b]

Do you know any fics that are in an alternative universe, like university, and doesn’t have the pack-world?

Let's see if you like these ones,

Maybe We Could Dance by In_Over_My_Head

"Stiles, get over here!” Flailing, he spun on his heel, searching for Lydia. He knew it was her who yelled, would know that voice anywhere. Seeing her standing in the center of the quad with a bunch of other cheerleaders, he took a deep breath before heading her way. High school had been a series of embarrassing boners and stuttered words when it came to her. College wasn’t much better, minus the boner issue that he’d gotten under control…mostly. Around halfway through his junior year of high school, he’d realized that the random boners that he attributed to just being a teenager were actually because of the hot guys in his classes. Like in high school, Lydia was still surrounded by pretty people, both male and female, so whatever it was that was about to happen would have a very attractive audience. Hopefully, he could get away quickly before he made too much of an ass of himself.

Unknown Number by demonicfaerie2009

Stiles has been texting his mother's number for years. He never expected someone to one day reply. Or The one where Derek has Claudia's recycled phone number.

all fucked up by endversed

You awake? Stiles sends. Yeah, comes Derek’s reply within seconds. See you in 20. Cocky fucking bastard. Stiles’ ex-boyfriend is a cocky fucking bastard. He bristles as his eyes scan the words, all too palpably smug, even in text. There is no good goddamn reason that it should have heat pooling in his stomach, his dick twitching with instant interest inside of his boxer shorts, his heart already doing stupid little somersaults at the mere thought of getting to see Derek, of getting to be near him. Regardless. He’s still out of the apartment and huddled into the backseat of a cab within minutes. Booty calling your ex-boyfriend might be a bad idea, but it's not like Stiles' heart can break any more than it has already, anyway.

in flux by endversed

"Fuck that,” Stiles says, dangerously low. “I already did the closeted jock thing in high school. Like fucking hell I’d put myself through that again.” Derek’s breath catches in his chest. Stiles is – he’s incandescent, entirely lit up with rage. He pushes back from the table swiftly, a horrible screeching noise as the legs drag against the floor. A muscle twitches in his jaw as he looks down at Derek with intense, narrowed eyes. “I’m sorry,” Derek begins to say. “Just – don’t bother, all right? I’m not interested in being your first fuck over the rainbow. You wanna hook-up with a guy, see what all the fuss is about? Go to a gay bar and pick up the first twink you see. You won’t find it hard.” “I’m not –” “Just leave me the fuck out of it.” Derek Hale is a straight college basketball star. He may need to reevaluate that first part when he meets Stiles Stilinski.

With One Touch, Everything Illuminates by EvanesDust

At the first touch of skin on skin, his world explodes with color. Stiles’s breath catches in his throat. Everything is so bright and distracting that he has no idea what to focus on first. His eyes strain with the visual assault, and he leans back against a warm, hard body while he squints up at the sunny sky. It’s so blue and pretty. He wonders if it’s the same shade of blue as his Jeep—like so many people have told him. Overwhelming is an understatement, and he wants to cry from the intensity. All his senses are in overdrive, each one vying for dominance as the bold brilliance of the world floods his vision. Cool wind caresses his face, drawing his attention to the trees dancing in the November breeze. Red, orange, and yellow leaves gracefully float toward the green grass, as if a friendly hand was gently lowering them to the ground. They make up such a beautiful carpet of vibrancy and texture, and each footfall brings a crunch that helps focus him. Once his mind calms from the onslaught, Stiles gasps softly, because if he’s seeing colors that means his knight in shining armor, the owner of those hands holding him so carefully, is his soulmate.

5 Times Stiles & Derek's Classmates Noticed They Were in a Committed Relationship and 1 Time Stiles Noticed by Survivah

In which Derek and Stiles are college roommates, and everyone saw this coming before they did. “How do you even get up there?” Scott asks skeptically. Loft beds are tricky enough on their own, he doesn’t know what possessed Derek and Stiles to push theirs together. Why would anybody try to create a king-sized loft bed in a teensy tiny dorm room?

Like Notes by hazelNuts

anonymous asked, "i always see you in the library and i think you’re really cute so i leave you little post it notes on your work whenever you go and get a book just to see you blush au" Stiles got the first note the night before his mid-term. A post-it note was attached to his laptop screen. Go to bed. You’ll do fine.

Hot for Teacher('s Aide) by linksofmemories_archive

"He invited you to his apartment.” “To do a lesson plan.” “Yeah and to probably lesson your plan while you’re there,” Scott said, waggling his eyebrows. “That made no sense, but you still managed to make it sound dirty,” Stiles said. “I’m impressed.”

It's Always Been You by charlesdk

Stiles' love life was practically non-existing, always had been. He was always terrible at picking up clues when people hit on him (it had happened, Erica had been witness to it and had been the one to let him know it was happening in the first place) because he never expected anyone to do so. He wasn't the most desirable guy around, he knew that. He was loud, extremely nerdy, never knew when to stop talking, not exactly much of a looker if you asked him, the list was endless. Point was, he never did know when someone was flirting with him. Which was probably how he ended up in the fight that would change his life for the better.

Open Up My Mouth and Sound Stupid by Made_Of_Stardust

"Did you see the gorgeous stenographer we got today?” “Yeah. He’s beautiful.” Derek didn’t notice the slight echo or the fact that the reporters had all frozen in their spots. When Isaac bumped him in the side with his elbow, Derek heard the telltale feedback screech of the microphone in front of him. “Dude,” Isaac said. “The mics are working now.” In the unnerving silence that followed, Isaac unnecessarily added, “Also, I was talking about the girl next to him.” Or Derek blurts out his attraction to the male stenographer at a NCAA press conference.

Put Down in Words by paintedrecs

"Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.” “I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning. “This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it. * When Stiles signed up for Dr. Hale’s intro to history class, he had two goals: knock out the credits his advisor was bugging him to complete before he graduated, and spend a few hours a week daydreaming about his sexy professor’s salt and pepper beard. Derek, a few months away from turning forty and not sure when his life had started feeling so damn lonely, had never encountered someone like Stiles before. Bright-eyed, sharp-tongued, determined to throw Derek’s carefully cultivated world into disarray…and absolutely the last person Derek should be falling in love with.

The Company I Keep by secondstar

Stiles has a favorite table at the library. Then some asshole comes along and steals it from him.

'Linski's Late Night Antidote To Lame by WhoNatural

Where Stiles has his own college radio show, and the mysterious, faceless Derek is his number one fan. Also there's this really hot guy he keeps meeting in the library who totally hates his guts.

Anything to make you smile by Oywiththepoodlesalready

In which Derek gets a new roommate whose best friend takes to practically living on their couch pretty quickly. Which wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that said best friend is the same guy who's been holding Derek's table at the library hostage for the better part of a month. And, oh yeah, there's also this thing where Derek might maybe be the tiniest bit in love with him. Easy peasy.

[masterlist link]

[beatrice-otter]

[image description: chart titled Talk Like A Technician: The Use of Technobabble.

Technology in Star Trek is complex and works in scientific concepts and principles that are far beyond what the majority of Players and Gamemasters are knowledgeable in. Throughout the collected media, Starfleet officers discuss technology using terms that most Players are not going to know. Instead of expecting Players to study and memorize technical manuals and reference books that have been published over the years we've provided an easy way to talk like a Starfleet engineer. Anyone can do "technobabble"!

To use the chart simply gather and roll d20s and consult the chart below for technical new terms and concepts.

Occasionally portions of the chart may not be applicable to the scene or circumstance. In that case simply omit that portion of technobabble!

The chart has six columns, Roll, Action, Descriptor, Source, Effect, and Device. Each has 20 rows.

Roll: numbers 1-20

Action: refocus, amplify, synchronize, redirect, recalibrate, modulate, oscillate, intensify, nullify, boost, reverse, reconfigure, actuate, focus, invert, reroute, modify, restrict, reset, extend

Descriptor: microscopic, macroscopic, linear, non-linear, isometric, multivariant, nano, phased, master, auxiliary, primary, secondary, tertiary, back-up, polymodal, multiphasic, tri-fold, balanced, oscillating

Source: Quantum, positronic, thermionic, osmotic, neutrino, spatial, resonating, thermal, photon, ionic, plasma, nucleonic, verteron, gravimetric, nadion, subspace, baryon, tetryon, polaron, tachyon

Effect: flux, reaction, field, particle, gradient, induction, conversion, polarizing, displacement, feed, imagining, reciprocating, frequency, pulse, phased, harmonic, interference, distortion, dampening, invariance

Device: inhibitor, equalizer, damper, chamber, catalyst, coil, unit, grid, regulator, sustainer, relay, discriminator, array, coupling, controller, actuator, harmonic, generator, manifold, stabilizer.

/end id]

[venusianpulp]

Your Femme Fatale Persona Based On Moon Sign...

Just for fun, astro observations. Enjoy! This is based on the manifestation of... "they made me do it". So, while I dont agree this is the Femme Fatal "homeostasis" of each moon sign, I believe that, at one's darkest hour, these are the specific persona's each of us would take on...

Aries Moon - Lara Croft (Tomb Raider): Strong, independent, and fearless, the Aries Moon femme fatale is a daring adventurer who isn't afraid to take risks. Like Lara Croft, she's always ready for action and thrives on challenges. Additionally...

The Bride (Kill Bill): Driven, vengeful, and skilled in martial arts.

Aeon Flux (Aeon Flux): Athletic, daring, and rebellious.

Taurus Moon - Satine (Moulin Rouge!): Sensual, alluring, and grounded, the Taurus Moon femme fatale is a master of seduction. Like Satine, she knows how to use her beauty and charm to get what she wants while remaining emotionally steadfast. Additionally...

Sugar Kane Kowalczyk (Some Like It Hot): Sexy, charming, and pleasure-seeking.

Regina George (Mean Girls): Popular, manipulative, and materialistic.

Gemini Moon - Catwoman (Batman Returns): Clever, adaptable, and enigmatic, the Gemini Moon femme fatale is a master of disguise. Like Catwoman, she's quick-witted, elusive, and always keeps others guessing. Additionally...

Jordan Baker (The Great Gatsby): Clever, charming, and unpredictable.

Marion Crane (Psycho): Secretive, impulsive, and multifaceted.

Cancer Moon - Norma Desmond (Sunset Boulevard): Emotionally intense, nostalgic, and manipulative, the Cancer Moon femme fatale is a complex character. Like Norma Desmond, she may cling to the past and use her vulnerability to control others. Additionally...

Annie Wilkes (Misery): Obsessive, nurturing, and unstable.

Alex Forrest (Fatal Attraction): Clingy, possessive, and emotionally demanding.

Leo Moon - Foxxy Cleopatra (Austin Powers in Goldmember): Confident, dramatic, and alluring, the Leo Moon femme fatale knows how to command attention. Like Foxxy Cleopatra, she's bold, charismatic, and always steals the spotlight. Additionally...

Marilyn Monroe (The Seven Year Itch): Charismatic, flirtatious, and attention-seeking.

Jessica Rabbit (Who Framed Roger Rabbit): Seductive, enigmatic, and theatrical.

Virgo Moon - Catherine Tramell (Basic Instinct): Intelligent, calculating, and mysterious, the Virgo Moon femme fatale is a master of manipulation. Like Catherine Tramell, she uses her intellect and attention to detail to outmaneuver others. Additionally...

Tracy Lord (The Philadelphia Story): Perfectionist, analytical, and critical.

Amy Dunne (Gone Girl): Cunning, organized, and vengeful.

Libra Moon - Gilda (Gilda): Charming, sophisticated, and flirtatious, the Libra Moon femme fatale is a social butterfly. Like Gilda, she knows how to use her charm and beauty to captivate and influence others. Additionally...

Madeleine Elster (Vertigo): Elegant, charming, and mysterious.

Daisy Buchanan (The Great Gatsby): Charming, indecisive, and idealistic.

Vesper Lynd (Casino Royale): Sophisticated, diplomatic, and elusive.

Scorpio Moon - Phyllis Dietrichson (Double Indemnity): Intense, secretive, and seductive, the Scorpio Moon femme fatale is a master of psychological manipulation. Like Phyllis Dietrichson, she uses her sexual allure and emotional depth to ensnare others. Additionally...

Cersei Lannister (Game of Thrones): Power-hungry, manipulative, and intense.

Brigid O'Shaughnessy (The Maltese Falcon): Mysterious, alluring, and deceitful.

Sagittarius Moon - Beatrix Kiddo (Kill Bill): Independent, adventurous, and philosophical, the Sagittarius Moon femme fatale is a free spirit. Like Beatrix Kiddo, she's a skilled warrior who follows her own moral code and seeks justice on her own terms. Additionally...

Nikita (La Femme Nikita): Rebellious, independent, and adventurous.

Lisbeth Salander (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo): Unconventional, daring, and justice-seeking.

Capricorn Moon - Miranda Priestly (The Devil Wears Prada): Ambitious, disciplined, and powerful, the Capricorn Moon femme fatale is a formidable presence. Like Miranda Priestly, she's a master of her craft and expects nothing less than perfection from herself and others. Additionally...

Evelyn Mulwray (Chinatown): Reserved, ambitious, and secretive.

Lady Macbeth (Macbeth): Ambitious, manipulative, and ruthless.

Aquarius Moon - Mia Wallace (Pulp Fiction): Unconventional, independent, and mysterious, the Aquarius Moon femme fatale is a true original. Like Mia Wallace, she marches to the beat of her own drum and isn't afraid to break the rules. Additionally...

Mathilda (Léon: The Professional): Unconventional, intelligent, and rebellious.

Clementine Kruczynski (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind): Eccentric, free-spirited, and unpredictable.

Pisces Moon - Nina Sayers (Black Swan): Imaginative, emotionally vulnerable, and self sacrificing. Like Nina, she uses her damseled distress and emotional depth to draw others into her web of desire and deceit. Additionally...

Melissa Robinson (The Last Seduction): Deceptive, adaptable, and seductive.

Laura Hunt (Laura): Elusive, enigmatic, dreamy, and idealization.

[reveryfics]

Hey its me again!

So could I request a fluff Daryl fic were Daryl and m!reader slept in the same cell in the prison as they grew closer so when they got to Alexandria they couldn't sleep with out each other but then m!reader goes on a week long supply run or something and Daryl doesn't know what to do, thank you! :)

Sleepless

Daryl Dixon x Male Reader

Summary: Daryl had gotten so used to sleeping beside you, so much so he couldn't sleep without you.

A/N: Absolutely loving the Daryl fluff and requests.

TW: Fluff

The cold, sterile air of the jail cell had initially been a stark contrast to anything Daryl had ever known. Yet, within those cramped confines, pressed together on a thin, lumpy mattress in one of the far-off cells, an unexpected intimacy had bloomed. He’d grown accustomed to the comforting warmth radiating from your skin as you lay side-by-side, a small pocket of heat against the pervasive chill. He’d found a strange solace in the rhythm of your breathing beside him, and on the nights when the horrors they’d faced clawed at his sleep, your quiet stories, spun from memories of a life before or hopeful imaginings of what might come after, had become his anchor. Even when one of you had to leave the cell for a time, the other would instinctively leave space on the meager bed, a silent acknowledgment of their shared nights.

It was an unspoken understanding, this closeness forged in the crucible of survival. You’d both recognized the bond that had formed, a quiet reliance that transcended mere companionship. Daryl, in his gruff way, had even admitted, a rare vulnerability in his voice, that he enjoyed it more than he’d ever anticipated, more than he perhaps should. It had become a constant in their fractured existence, a small, ordinary ritual in a world that had become anything but. For Daryl, especially, those shared nights were islands of peace in a turbulent sea.

The transition to Alexandria, with its semblance of normalcy, hadn't broken this pattern. Without a word exchanged, you had both gravitated towards sharing a room, the familiar comfort of sleeping beside one another a silent reassurance in this new, fragile sanctuary. The routine of the nights mirrored your time in the prison, a shared bed offering a sense of continuity in a world constantly in flux. However, when Deanna began assigning solo supply runs, a subtle shift occurred in Daryl. You noticed the way his eyes would follow you as you prepared to leave, the almost imperceptible tension in his shoulders. He would wait for your return, sometimes pacing the small room until the early hours, or on longer runs that stretched into days, he simply wouldn’t sleep at all.

A week had passed since you’d last left Alexandria, this time on a crucial scavenging mission that had taken longer than anticipated. Daryl felt a gnawing unease, a restlessness that seemed to crawl beneath his skin. The absence beside him on the bed was a gaping void, more than just the lack of physical warmth. He’d tried everything to replicate the comfort of your presence: piling pillows against your side of the bed, hoping to fill the empty space; exhausting himself with extra patrols around the community until his muscles ached; even seeking the unfamiliar quiet of Carol’s spare room for a night, a change of scenery that had offered no respite.

Your absence was a persistent hum of anxiety beneath the surface of his days. It wasn't just the sleepless nights that plagued him; his mind, usually a tightly controlled instrument of survival, now wandered down dark paths, conjuring worst-case scenarios. He’d quickly clamp down on these thoughts, reminding himself of your resilience, your resourcefulness, the steely determination that had seen you both through so much. Yet, the worry lingered, a dull ache in his chest.

Finally, exhaustion forced him to the bed. He lay on his back, the familiar scent of your shared sheets a bittersweet reminder of your absence. He tucked himself under the worn blankets, staring up at the ceiling, the patterns of shadow and moonlight playing across the plaster. His eyelids grew heavy, drifting shut, only to snap open again at the soft click and subsequent creak of the bedroom door. The faint, rhythmic patter of what sounded like worn shoes against the wooden floor drew his attention. He pushed himself up, the blankets pooling around his waist, his senses instantly alert, just as you appeared in the doorway.

A tired but genuine smile softened your features as you leaned against the frame, the relief of seeing him etched on your face. Your eyes immediately registered his exhaustion – the dark circles beneath his eyes, the tense set of his jaw, the restless energy that even in stillness seemed to emanate from him. "Still can't sleep without me, huh?" you murmured, your voice laced with a gentle teasing.

Daryl huffed, his calloused hands instinctively rising to rake through his perpetually untamed hair. "You were gone for a damn week," he mumbled, his gruff tone unable to entirely mask the underlying worry. "I was worried."

He rarely gave a direct answer to your playful jabs about his dependence on your presence at night, but the truth hung unspoken in the air between you. You knew.

With a sigh, you rubbed a hand across your weary face, the grime of the road smudged across your cheek. You stepped fully into the bedroom, your gaze lingering on Daryl as he settled back against the pillows, a silent invitation. You shrugged off your dirt and blood-stained clothes, the familiar weight of them hitting the floor, before reaching for one of Daryl’s oversized, faded shirts. Pulling it over your head, the soft cotton a welcome comfort against your skin, you walked towards the bed.

Daryl turned onto his side, his eyes fixed on you as you slid under the covers beside him. He instinctively scooted closer, his long legs tangling with yours beneath the worn fabric.

You smiled, a genuine, heart-deep smile that reached your tired eyes. You gently brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, the rough texture surprisingly soft beneath your fingers. "I'm here now," you hummed, the simple words carrying a weight of unspoken reassurance. Closing the small distance between you, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, a silent greeting and a promise of comfort.

Daryl leaned into the kiss, the tension in his body beginning to ease. He pulled back moments later, nuzzling his face against your hair, inhaling the familiar scent of you – a mix of the outdoors, woodsmoke, and something uniquely yours. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close until there was barely a breath of space between you, his eyes finally closing as the warmth of your skin seeped into his chilled bones.

You pulled the blankets higher around your intertwined bodies, your fingers lacing through the short, rough strands of hair at the nape of his neck, gently stroking. You could feel the subtle tremors that still ran through him, the lingering anxiety slowly dissipating with your return. You knew how much this closeness meant, not just to him, but to you as well. In this brutal new world, their shared nights had become a vital source of comfort, a silent testament to their intertwined lives.

Within minutes, Daryl’s breathing deepened, the steady rhythm a soothing balm to your own frayed nerves. His body was wrapped around yours, a protective embrace that spoke volumes of his unspoken fears. Eventually, exhaustion claimed you both, your head resting against the soft pillow, your face buried in the familiar scent of Daryl’s hair, finding solace and a fragile sense of peace in the quiet intimacy of the night.

[wordsfrombudha]

🌙 Moon Men: The Ultimate Male Fantasy

Before exploring the themes of Moon men, we must first understand the role of the nakshatras in the zodiac. In English, the word nākṣatra roughly translates to "that which does not decay," pointing to something timeless and beyond the reach of change. Unlike the material world, which is subject to constant flux and dissolution, the nakshatras, as the fixed stars, remain steady and embody the enduring essence of manifestation. They symbolize unchanging rta or universal order amid the shifting currents of cosmic activity. By offering a stable framework anchored in the heavens, providing an emphasis on divine principles, the nakshatra system allows for precise ritual and calendrical alignment, even as the positions of the Sun and planets continue to shift over time. This is why Vedic astrology maintains its reliance on sidereal calculations, despite extraneous factors like precession.

Unlike the rashis, which are solar in nature and express themselves through tangible resources and qualities of the material world, the nakshatras are lunar in nature. Rather than representing resources themselves, they reflect the management of those resources, the experiential dimension that shapes how we interact with the world. They are shakti, Parvati’s yoni for Shiva’s lingam. In this sense, the nakshatras are more personal than the rashis. For example, while Taurus, ruled by Venus, represents natural wealth and abundance in the world, it is through Krittika, Rohini, and Mrigashira that one becomes driven to engage with this wealth. Think about it: fruit without anyone to eat it has no experiential quality, no power or desire arising from external attachment. The rashi reveals the structure, while the nakshatra reveals the flow of prāṇa that is either projected onto or inherent within that structure. By understanding this, we begin to grasp the function and potency of the nakshatras and what they truly represent.

__________________________________________

Now that the technical foundations are in place, we can begin to explore how certain nakshatras manifest. In the Vimshottari dasha system of Jyotish, each graha governs three nakshatras. In this post, I will focus specifically on the nakshatras ruled by the Moon, with particular attention given to the themes that arise in men influenced by these asterisms. The nakshatras ruled by the Moon in Vimshottari are Rohini, Hasta, and Shravana, though I will primarily focus on their shared expressions as revealed through their trikona (trinal) relationship rather than their individual qualities.

Across time and culture, certain male figures have captured widespread attention. These are the men who dominate the social landscape, holding attention and admiration simply through their presence, ascending to a position of power and influence that others can only dream of. They are the ones who rise above the ordinary and whose natural status seems unassailable. They possess a magnetism that draws people in, and their standing places them above reproach.

Some examples:

It is within this ideal that the ultimate male fantasy begins to take shape.

Few figures embody this archetype of allure and magnetism as much as Chandra, the Moon in Vedic mythology. Myths surrounding Chandra always portray a magnetic power that draws others in without ever striving for overt control. As a god, Chandra is not one to assert dominance in the traditional sense, nor does he seek to command the world through force. His power comes from his very presence, in the way he influences the world around him simply by existing. The Moon's light is gentle, in contrast to the harsh radiance of the Sun. It turns something overbearing into a more welcoming and soft reflection. His presence commands attention in a way that feels both effortless and inevitable, and this engenders desire in others. This can be seen in the way his favoritism toward Rohini stirred jealousy among his other 26 wives, leading him to be cursed. Yet despite the conflict he tends to provoke, Chandra never seems desperate to claim what he desires. His very existence elicits admiration, drawing people toward him without effort. Even his curse, which causes him to wax and wane, only serves to deepen his mystique. It’s this constant shift and this subtle ebb and flow that enhances his magnetic appeal. Chandra’s story is one of subtle dominance, where influence is exerted through an inherent presence of gentle power, an aura of being effortlessly seductive and magnetizing, never needing to strive for what he already commands through his intangible influence.

We can also indirectly see the nature of Chandra through Vishnu's lunar incarnation: Krishna. Born into the Dvapara Yuga, an era of intense desire, struggle over wealth, and the pursuit of pleasure, Krishna moved through the world as someone whose charm and presence naturally pulled people in and elevated him to the position of authority with access to unparalleled pleasures of the era. Though his life was filled with complexity and contradiction, such as political turmoil, familial conflict, cosmic responsibility, he never lost the magnetic ease and sensuality that defined him.

From his earliest days, Krishna was adored. As a child in Gokul, his mischief and beauty captivated everyone, and as he grew, so too did the reach of his influence. The gopis of Vrindavan abandoned everything for a chance to dance with him under the moonlight. Radha, the soul’s deepest longing, became synonymous with his name because of the irresistible draw he created by simply being. As an adult, Krishna’s magnetism only intensified. He became a king, yet never ruled through fear or austerity. He had sixteen thousand wives. Yes, you read that right... sixteen THOUSAND. He did not acquire them through conquest or pursuit, but as women he liberated from captivity, who then chose to initiate a union with him. Despite the sheer number, each believed she held his full attention, each felt seen and cherished. His marriages echoed his ability to be everything to everyone, without appearing stretched or strained. Even Draupadi, though married to the five Pandavas, turned to Krishna in times of need. He was her protector, her confidant, the one whose presence alone brought reassurance and power.

Krishna's battlefield role in the Mahabharata and the Bhagavad Gita is yet another window into this lunar quality. He never picked up a weapon. Even though he possessed an unparalleled ability in combat, he vowed not to fight. And yet, he was still the most powerful force on the field. As Arjuna’s charioteer, he guided without command, advised without imposing, and altered the course of an entire war through speech, presence, and subtle intervention. He wielded no blade, yet even the gods deferred to him. Yet despite all of his well-meaning glory, Krishna’s life is filled with acts that invite contradiction. He lies, steals, teases, loves many, and yet remains beloved and exalted. His wrongs are not punished but rather celebrated as plays of divine mystery. The rules that bind others seem to fall away around him. This quality of being above consequence, of being endlessly desired even when he disrupts the status quo, mirrors the archetype formed by Chandra. It is not through aggression, control, or rigidity that he gains influence. Rather, it is through a natural charisma and a sense of being restrained that is so deeply rooted in his essence that it shapes the world around him without ever needing to assert itself. Generally, it's said that Krishna was born during the 8th day of the waning moon, on the 8th night of the dark fortnight of the month Shravana. His birth is also associated with the Rohini Nakshatra, where most accounts of his kundli place his Moon and Ascendant.

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Among all the nakshatras, those governed by the moon are the ones most preoccupied with artha, or material wealth. All three moon nakshatras are situated within the earth signs. The element of earth corresponds to artha, which is the dominant pursuit in the Treta Yuga. Artha is not financial gain, but the broader focus on stability, status, resources, and the means by which one maintains and enhances their position through control in the world. In its highest sense, artha is the structure that supports dharma. It is the foundation upon which right action and spiritual growth are sustained. A person without artha (without land, wealth, or social footing) finds it difficult to fulfill obligations, care for others, or pursue deeper meanings. Thus, artha is not seen to be the same as greed; it is a rightful engagement with the material plane. It is power with purpose. Yet artha also carries a shadow. When detached from dharma, it becomes an end unto itself, status for its own sake, accumulation without higher use. In such cases, the pursuit of artha distorts perception, causing one to identify too closely with the outer symbols of value rather than the inner worth they represent. To master artha is to master one's place in the world. Not to renounce it, but to wield it without attachment. The moon, always waxing and waning, teaches that no possession is eternal. One important thing to note about Artha is that is directly opposed Kama, which is the desire for sensual pleasures. The more pleasure one seeks, the more wealth they will expend, and the more one is focused on preserving their wealth in a miserly way, the less pleasures they will be granted from their status. A wealthy man who never spends his money is not treated like a wealthy man at all. Artha is the dance of holding and letting go, of rising in influence only to remember one’s impermanence and loss. Those who understand this move through the material world like kings whose thrones are made of mist, ever present, powerful, and yet unattached.

When the energy is balanced, Moon men, gravitate toward artha not purely for luxury, but for security, belonging, and influence. They are the most loose with their wealth, so they constantly need to be attaining more to sustain their pleasure-seeking proclivities. This doesn’t only apply to money but also to social capital. The more someone is adored and respected, the more they can get away with. When the energy is imbalanced, Moon men will still seek artha, but their pursuit becomes detached from its original purpose. The accumulation of wealth, status, and influence becomes a form of self-definition, a way to assert their existence among others. What was once a means of securing one's place in an unforgiving world transforms into an obsession with control and image, where the lines between need and desire blur, and the pursuit of artha no longer serves a greater good but rather feeds an endless cycle of self-validation. As mentioned previously, their power lies in magnetic allure rather than force, and they draw wealth and status through visibility, favor, and social capital. This is especially evident in nakshatras like Rohini, where the pursuit of artha merges with beauty, charm, and sensual engagement with the world's abundance. This energy can be seen in multiple media examples where the conflict of the plot centers around accumulating wealth and power for various reasons, such as security, need for admiration, etc.

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Now that we have an understanding of the Moon’s energy in its nakshatras, we can begin to observe how it manifests in modern media. Media offers a valuable lens for recognizing the subtle influences of a person's energy, especially since the nakshatras operate on a subtle, implicit level. With that in mind, I want to explore some portrayals that I think reflect the nature of moon men and show how the energy of the Moon nakshatras comes to life through them. Ok, so first we need to understand what men in general want because it precisely these projections that shape moon men into who they become. So what is it men fantasize about? Once we understand this, we are well on our way to seeing how moon men move in the world.

The first thing many men fantasize about is to be sexually desirable. While women share this longing as well, it’s far more common for men to have to pursue women, rather than the reverse. What men want is the sense of being wanted without having to try or care. They want to exist in a state where they don’t have to perform, where desire is offered freely, and they are irresistibly magnetic to a point where it’s expected for people to fawn over them for doing nothing. Men crave the ability to be effortlessly charming, highly desired by women, and envied by other men, yet without the need for commitment or effort. Moon men often get to experience this magnetic appeal, particularly during certain stages of their lives where the moon's influence is heightened. It’s at these points that they rise to become the ultimate "sex symbols," embodying the archetype of passive indulgence, a kind of allure that says “I’ll give you what you want, but you have to come and get it.” The Moon, being the most sensual of the planets, carries with it an attraction that is inherently sexual, sometimes leading to infidelity or the conflicts inherent to forbidden romance.

One of the most evident ways this manifests is within the adult film industry, where Moon men are especially prevalent. Because they naturally draw more attention due to their sexual appeal, and they are focused on pursuing artha, their magnetic energy and widespread appeal can put them in situations where they use their attraction to make money. This can translate into a level of idolization in the adult entertainment world, where certain male porn stars or sec workers achieve a near-mythical status. The most famous and envied figures in the industry, such as Rocco Siffredi, Johnny Sins, Manuel Ferrara, Jason Luv, etc. are all Moon men. Their combination of sexual charism and effortless appeal resonates with male audiences, while their passive dominance and sensual passion appeals to female audiences, altogether making them icons in the world of adult entertainment as well as symbols of virility and unattainable sexual fantasy for many men.

This can be seen in the media portrayal of Dirk Diggler in Boogie Nights.

Along the same line of physical prowess and sexual desirability, men want to embody strength and dominance in a way that commands respect and admiration. It is less so about wanting to fight and more so about knowing they’ll be able to effortlessly dominate if they do. They want to be noticed for their impressive physicality and stature. Moon men capture this ideal well. They are in a lot of action hero, lone wolf type roles, where they are never the ones to antagonize but still draw in conflict. They are quiet, brooding, and unshaken. Their presence alone is a challenge. They don’t speak often, but when they do, people listen. They don’t go looking for trouble, but they carry themselves in a way that says they could end it if it came. Their strength is not just physical but psychological. They do not need to prove anything because their capability is obvious. In a world full of noise, they are still. In a room full of people, they command the air. It is like a football captain or sports star whose physical aptitude elevates his status. It’s the kind of physical ability that makes others look up to you and grants you additional social power. In this context, being at the peak of athletic or physical performance is an expression of superiority in both the literal and social senses. I think overall Moon men are more concerned with how easy and enjoyable life is from a position of high physical status. They care more about how they look and are driven to chase the aesthetics as a way to cement themselves a stronger position in society. They seem like they don’t care, but they do. It is not uncommon for them to be bullied or outcast early in life, so many of them are seeking social prowess as a way to cope with the lack of belonging or respect they experienced in the past. It is also sometimes the case that they will isolate themselves to avoid judgment. Yet even when they do that, they are functioning from an external locus of control.

This gif is of David Laid. He was bullied for being skinny, so he started lifting not to fight but to be seen. Aesthetic bodybuilding gave him control. He wanted to be impressive, so he trained to change how people looked at him. The goal wasn’t to gain strength. It was about the visual, perceptive impact. His body became the answer to every insult and every time he was ignored. Now people can’t help but notice. He doesn’t need to act tough because he looks untouchable. What started as insecurity became his weapon. He built a body that speaks for him. Strong, captivating. It makes people look twice and automatically affords him a great deal of respect. It makes them want to be around him, love him, include him, and that’s all Moon men really want for themselves. Moon men tend to be very invested in self-improvement along with the obsession of being the best at everything.

A good example of how this looks together is the show Blue Mountain state

In line with the broader male fantasy of physical and social prominence, many men don’t want to chase or risk rejection. They want to be the gravitational center, drawing others in without having to prove themselves. They crave admiration without exertion, longing to be desired without having to reach. For Moon men, this is more than a fantasy; it is more often than not their lived experience. It is what they strive for, and in the case of many moon men, their presence alone becomes magnetic enough to invite attention, curiosity, and affection. They do not pursue as much as they attract. This passive allure is one of the most recognizable traits of Moon men. In relationships, they are in control and take on a more dominant role, always influencing things, but even so, they are rarely the ones to make the first move or to be the ones actually making decisions. While there are countless media examples that showcase this archetype, I’ll focus on just a few to illustrate how this dynamic plays out in narrative form. The important thing to pay attention to is that the Moon man is almost never the one trying to get someone else's attention or trying to pursue or dominate a woman (or man). The other person almost has to throw themselves at him or chase him down, and only then will he demonstrate his passion. Moon men are even partial to indulging the desires of those they have no initial attachment to. If someone pursues them, they kind of just go with it. They are very passionate and sensual, but this is not exclusive. Like the other Sattvic planets (Sun and Jupiter), Moon men are prone to giving of themselves indiscriminately, but because it is usually short-lived, it is much easier to sustain compared to something like Jupiter, which is all about union, commitment, and generosity. To think of it differently, the moon is like food, temporary but satisfying in its ability to nourish. Jupiter, on the other hand is like fat. It is protective and more lasting than food itself. Food comes and goes, but fat stays with you. It stores what is valuable. It prepares you for the future. The moon gives you what you need right now, while Jupiter ensures you’ll have enough later.

One example of this is Jack Reacher

Another example is Henry Cavill's Portrayal of Superman

You may be starting to notice another pattern in these examples. Each of these men carries a kind of freedom or superiority that places them outside the reach of ordinary consequences or limitations. They can feel that they do not have to answer to anyone, or even if they do that punishment won’t be that dire. This is not because they rebel against the system, but because they exist on the outskirts of it. Whether through wealth, charisma, status, luck, manipulation, or thievery, they have the ability to move through the world according to their own rules. This untouchability is part of their allure. They are not bound by expectations or emotional obligations in the same way others seem to be. Others naturally adjust themselves around these men without needing to be told. In this way, these men can feel above or exempt from the emotional negotiations and social rules that govern everyone else. This usually appears as quiet rule-breaking, con-artistry, underground criminal mischief, subtle disregard for rules, and an implicit belief that they are operating on an entirely different level that they become hedonistic and destructive.

I think hands down the best example for this is the show White Collar. Mirroring Chandra's curse, even though he is technically limited, it really doesn't make much of a difference in terms of the pleasures and luxuries he is able to enjoy. One important difference between sun and moon men is that sun men will steal and break rules out of necessity and a sense of justice, whereas men will steal and manipulate to get rich and because it brings them enjoyment. Moon men are good at it, and it’s fun for them.

Another good example is Catch Me if You Can. He can talk his way into anything, and the standard barriers just don’t seem to apply to him.

A recurring theme that begins to emerge with these examples is intelligence. Many Moon men are portrayed as brilliant minds, particularly as strategists, code-breakers, or hidden geniuses who see patterns others miss. Their intelligence is rarely loud or performative in real life, but in media, it gets hammered hard, with them frequently being portrayed as gifted geniuses and eccentric prodigies.

There are many examples I could give for this as well, from Imitation Game to Good Will Hunting to The Pretender

Ok, that's all that will fit into this post. Thank you for reading! My next post is goi in ng to be about their relationships and bonds.

[farore05]

*carefully sets this on the table*

Codex: Bond Theory

(Omegaverse EmmRook)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65978827/chapters/169995949

For decades Emmrich Volkarin had been the gold standard of what an alpha should be, composed in the face of instinct, unshakable under pressure. Across all four major universities in Thedas, he was one of only three alphas permitted to hold full tenure. Trusted to lecture in rooms thick with scent, to remain unmoved through every stage of designation flux. He had built a reputation on control. He had even written the definitive text on the subject. Instinct and Intellect: Navigating Designation with Dignity. It was still used in half of the academic circles from Starkhaven to the Free Marches.

So why, at his age, with all his accolades and experience, was this becoming so Maker-forsaken difficult?

Picture by the lovely @themournfulwatcher

[phidsart]

Dunno if I’m late to the party, but man, I’m glad I found this video digging into Timebomb a bit more from a developmental perspective, beyond the admittedly —painfully — short lens we see in the show proper.

I think everyone who likes this ship and hasn’t seen this yet should do so, but it brought into focus just how strong of a part the idea of control played into Jinx and Ekko’s dynamic throughout the series, and just how much growth Ekko had to go through in order for this to work. Of course, Jinx was the most openly hurt out of the two, but Ekko’s obsession with curating his environment, including the people around him (while based in understandable wounds), made it genuinely impossible to reconnect with Jinx in any capacity beyond getting instantly triggered and repeating S1 Ep 8. He had to accept that:

1.) the Powder he thought represented the ‘lost good’ didn’t exist, and

2. (the part I was missing)) there is no end point to Jinx, really. Her identity is defined by its constant state of flux.

The creator, Tenshi, compared Jinx to the very concept of creativity itself. That’s not something that can be stabilized, nor should it be, really. That’d minimize the value of the concept and thus, attempts to “stabilize” Jinx, or isolate a part of her as bad, or needing removal, would be a disrespect to her identity. Even in referencing Powder, bc honestly, she was always shifting as well. It’s in her nature, and Ekko finally accepting that with the “always a dance with you” finally FINALLY allows Jinx to see safety with him, bc he’s put his compulsion aside and stopped seeing her as something to fix. Jinx has healing to do, but shifting from something freeform to something stable isn’t healing for her.

I don’t think this is a galaxy-brained revelation that I needed to explain on my part; I just felt like, as someone who has sabotaged relationships by chasing a solid, cemented ideal that doesn’t exist, I wanted to verbalize my thankfulness for this video helping me understand, and by extension, better flesh out this relationship I like so much. To anyone with similar brain habits, try not to mold the moving, new parts of a person into something rigid; all the in-betweens, almosts, and not-quites are part of what you love about them. The good gooey human-ness. Let it be. Let it change.

And for everyone who knew all this already, gimme some slack for yapping; I’m new here 🤣 :)

[tpwrtrmnky]

Me: Wow the searing flames of the stygian flux turbines are sort of unpleasant to be around

The demon made of eyeballs operating the controls: Yeah welcome to womanhood

Me: I don't think that's relevant?

Eyeballs: Psht. Of course you don't.