#and yes i made the moodboard to make up for the fact that i’m posting this <3 bc at least one of them is PRETTY

[wonysugar]

puff, puff and pass | ot4 aespa

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. high for this — the weeknd

synopsis : your dream blunt rotation, except you’re the blunt.

pairing : yoo jimin, ning yizhuo, aeri uchinaga, kim minjeong x fem!reader

genre : smut, porn without plot (sorry)

tags : high sex, aespa kind of gangbang reader to be quite honest—, objectification, reader is referred to as ‘it’ like once, oral sex, vaginal penetration, joint rolling tutorial included brought to you by jiminjeong xx, i’m joking, don’t do drugs yall

warnings : heavy use of drugs, like, they’re all high as hell help (more specifically marijuana) both fem!reader and aespa are intoxicated in this

word count : 1,4k(??)

a/n : the fact that i was basically finished with writing thisa while ago and the only thing stopping me from posting it was the fuckass moodboard.. AND EVEN THEN IT ISN’T EVEN ALL THAT I HATE ITTFJHHFJEJF anyways, here’s some food MWAHH love you sugarcubes<33

“come on, you’ve been at it for ages— pass it already.” complained ning, her voice all whiny. 

from those words alone, a normal individual would think that the five girls in the room, including you, were doing a blunt rotation of some sort. or perhaps you all were just participating in a chill activity that consisted of passing around an object for entertainment, nothing harmless.. right?

well.. yes! you’d be right in assuming that it was, in fact, a blunt being passed around originally. that is, until the other girls (intoxication clearly having taken over the good parts of their brains) thought it would be a great idea to pass something else, another object, one that’d cure their boredom in the middle of fucking nowhere. 

that said object turned out to be your very own body.

“ohh my god shut up—” was what aeri moaned, sharply inhaling air through her teeth as she fucked her cock deep into your mouth, the tip touching the back of your throat with every thrusting motion she made. you were on all fours in front of her, fitting all of her into your mouth, watching your head bob up and down her long shaft effortlessly as you took all of her rigid length like the good slut you are, it made her lose control of her senses. “fuck y/n i’m so fucking close—“

then, to both you and aeri’s surprise, right as she was about to finish all over your mouth, your hair was suddenly pulled on from behind. “ah-ah, too late, it’s my turn now.” was what you heard ning say from behind you in a singing tone, visualizing the kind of annoying smile she had on her face whilst saying that to aeri. 

you winced at the sharp pain you felt on your scalp from such a tug, which was then immediately replaced by the overwhelming sensation by the feeling of ning’s dick sliding up and down your wet slit, teasing your entrance with her tip. 

in response to having you pulled away from her at the moment of her sweet release, you saw as aeri’s face contorted from one of pleasure to one of frustration very quickly, despite her seemingly sleepy eyes due to the ridiculous amount of cannabis she ingested, and keeps ingesting. “i wasn’t done, asshole.” exclaimed the half-japanese girl, clearly upset that the chance to cum all over your pretty face got taken away from her and delayed for another short period of time.

ning simply laughed at her before swiftly sliding her cock into your wet, wet cunt. you moaned loudly, as being in a situation such as this one while simultaneously being high just made you feel everything way more than you usually would. it was like all five of your senses were invaded with different, filthy things, and all of those things contributed to making you feel so, so good. you felt mindless, only present to please those that were freely using your body.

you loved every single second, as dehumanizing as it was. perhaps that’s what made it so arousing.

“please— i’m doing her a favor. she knows this dick fucks her the best, right, doll?” you looked back at her with hooded eyes, unsure what to respond.

while yes, ning knows how to use her length, you were quite frankly blinded by the drugs at that moment.

all you really wanted was dick, regardless of how you got it.

so, you mindlessly nodded, “stick to jerking off and watching how it’s done, ‘kay?” is what added ning, earning another annoyed groan from the other girl in response, before the latter sat down on the couch before you. with that, each second that passed was an increase in speed for the girl on top of you, your back to her stomach.

“can you guys stop bickering already? it’s like, ruining the vibe.” said what sounded like jimin, her words were slow, clear and enunciated.

that’s when you caught a glance of her and minjeong, sitting on the other corner of the dark room. they, on their side of things, were rolling yet another blunt, minjeong was focused on intricately filling the folded paper with the marijuana whilst jimin held the filter for her, aligning its edges perfectly with the edges of the paper before rolling it, twisting the end of the joint and eventually lighting the latter. 

“and can you roll that shit quicker? it’s getting boring having ning do everything.” snapped back aeri, a bit louder so that the two relevant girls could hear her above the music, clearly annoyed. obviously, ning heard and grinned at her mockingly, earning an eye roll from her.

“we’re working on it, be fucking patient, girl.” replied minjeong.

what differed her ways to handle you and ning’s was mostly the gentleness that was employed with you; aeri was rough, sure, but she also prioritized your comfort above everything else when you were sucking her cock. ning, on the other hand, was fucking you like she had a point to prove, she’d thrust into you in an almost animalistic way, also making sure that she could hear every single dirty noise that came out of your mouth. 

not like that was hard to do anyways, with how loud and shamelessly lewd you were being for her. 

with that being said, you weren’t exactly surprised when you felt her fingers lock your jaw into a tight grip, making you face the couch aeri was sitting on. the chinese girl dug into your skin with her long, pretty acrylic nails, leaving very visible red scratches on your stomach as she got closer and closer to her climax.

“you’re so tight, baby..” said ning with a groan, huffing and puffing into your ear with each pump of her dick into your walls, all of it causing you to moan out incoherent words. “oh fuck, i think i could do you for hours on end—”

when you actually concentrated on the girl in front of you, you noticed how no longer upset she seemed about being denied her orgasm, but more so impatient to have you all to herself again. she watched you attentively as she stroked her own dick, wishing she was the one to stretch your pussy out instead of it being done by the annoying and cocky girl that was behind you, ning. 

those two are very close, so it’s very natural for them to take basically everything as a competition.

then, as if to prevent you from looking anywhere else other than her, aeri quickly stood up in front of you and grabbed ahold of your hair, rougher than usual, before impatiently teasing your already agape mouth with the head of her cock, slapping it against your desperate lips before bucking her hips into your mouth, inserting it effortlessly. ning was still behind you, pounding you just as mercilessly as she’s been doing this entire time.

you came, repeatedly, at that. what else could you have done when you were being fucked stupid by two different dicks at once, both at different speeds and intensities? obviously, it didn’t take long before they came inside of you, too. aeri’s warm juices filled the entirety of your throat, forcing you to swallow every drop of it as she pushed her cock down deeper, while the chinese girl's dick was buried deep into your wet, swollen cunt, the perfect view of your spread ass obviously playing a huge part in her orgasm.

teamwork at its finest! especially when the two other girls are finally walking their way towards you, stumbling in their steps, all giggly and jittery from the weed, clearly excited to make you take a puff out of their freshly rolled and lit-up joint. too fucked out to have at least one remotely coherent thought, you let them ruffle your hair and get a tight grip on it to make you face minjeong’s pale hand, holding the blunt in between her fingertips.

still recovering from aeri’s thick load in your throat, you didn’t even notice how jimin had her phone camera above you, filming you from practically every angle before locking your jaw in a tight grip, laughing and caressing your lips with her thumb.

“come on, pretty slut,” she said, her voice just above a whisper, “take a hit.”

and you did, you took multiple, even. you felt yourself lose every ounce of sobriety left in your body with every inhale you took of the joint, if you even had any. so much so that you weren’t even fazed by sometimes having it suddenly replaced by one of the girls’ dicks at times and even forgetting that all of that was getting recorded by jimin. 

once that blunt was finished, they simply thought it’d be funny to have you crawl around on the floor like a desperate little whore that’s trying to get her throat used like it deserves to be, you took them, turn by turn, getting their mixed loads all over your mouth and throat, turn by turn. 

unfortunately for you, you couldn’t remember what it was that happened afterwards, all you know now is that your head hurts like a bitch and that your legs feel like you went to the gym for a week straight with no breaks. 

with that information, it was needless to say that you definitely got passed and used around by the other girls like you wanted for the rest of that long and hazy night.

[mentally-gone002]

is it too early to love you? - part 1

(moodboard made by moi)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

summary: reader has a boyfriend who is not so fond of spencer, or the fact that reader and spencer are best friends. this causes, yet another, argument between reader and her boyfriend. 

a/n: HEY GANGGGGGG!!!!!! so…… i have no idea when i posted last but frankly, idgaf!! so here’s some more food for you!!! this might be my fav series i’ll ever post tbh😉😉😉 also this isn’t in any specific season, i just have alex(i can’t remember her last name as im writing this) from s8 in here just because

————————————————————————

spencer and i held eye contact across the kitchen at rossi’s house one evening. 

he was involved in a conversation with morgan and alex, while i was under the arm of my boyfriend, james, as he talked to hotch about something. 

i wasn’t listening, just focusing on not blinking. spencer smiled slightly, struggling to keep himself from blinking. 

he pulled a face, making me smile and laugh quietly. 

“that’s cheating.” i mouthed. 

“no it’s not.” spencer mouthed back, smiling softly. 

i stuck my tongue out at him and crossed my eyes so that my vision became obscured. looking back with focused eyes made me realize he was blinking. 

“i win!” i cheer audibly, staying quiet enough to not interrupt the flow of words coming from james’ mouth. he did shoot me a confused look.

spencer rolled his eyes and sipped from the glass of red wine he had in his hand. he was sucked back into the conversation he was initially involved in, head turning towards alex as she started talking. 

i sighed and looked up at james, forcing a smile onto my lips as he kept on talking to hotch without giving me a glance. 

i shifted my gaze to hotch, finding him staring at me. his eyes had that worried look in them i saw sometimes and i smiled to assure i was okay. he looked away and i released a sigh i didn’t know i was holding in. 

“you ready to get going?” james’ voice got me looking back up at him. i took a few seconds to process his question before nodding. 

“i’m gonna go say bye and i’ll meet you at the front door, okay?” i took my arm out from where it was around his while he nodded. i turned on my heel and headed over to where jj, penelope, and rossi were standing. i said goodbye to them, which they were sad to hear, before going to see alex, morgan and spencer. 

“i wish you didn’t have to go.” spencer whispered while he gave me a hug. 

“i know, me too.” i whispered back, giving him a quick gentle squeeze before releasing him. 

“i’ll see you tomorrow, spence.” i waved to him and then everyone else before finding james by the front door. 

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

when james and i got to our apartment i immediately went to our room to get changed. 

“did you have fun?” i asked from the closet.

james stood in the doorway to our room, nodding. “yeah. that guys house was cool.” 

“rossi is very rich, and he will flaunt it.” i laughed. james hummed with a sound that told me he was unamused. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing it’s just… spencer was staring a lot.” he told me. “it’s like he’s got to hots for you or something.” 

i eyed him in my periphery. “he doesn’t.” i assured. my hands moved over the compartments in the closet while i tired to find what i wanted to wear after my shower.

“mhm, yeah okay. because friends gawk like that.” james sounded annoyed. “seriously, like it was kind of hard to enjoy everything when he was staring like that.”

“hey, don’t put your view of the entire evening on spencer.” i told him while exiting the walk-in closet. 

james rolled his eyes. “of course you’re defending him.” 

“i’m not defending him, james!”

“yes you are! you always do!”

“because he’s my best friend! you’d defend noah if i ever blamed him for something.”

james looked away, frustrated and biting back some remarks. “that’s different.” he muttered. 

i crossed my arms over my chest. “how? how is it different?” i asked. “is it because spencer and i aren’t the same gender? is that why?” 

james shook his head. “no, it’s not.” 

“oh, i think it is.” i scoffed, looking away at the floor. i kicked my toes into the carpet. 

the room got silent, and heavy with angst. 

“i’m sorry.” i apologized. “i didn’t mean to… make this into an argument, i just wish you’d accept that spence is my friend.” 

james sighed and walked forward, gently putting his arms around me when i was in reach. he put his chin on my shoulder and i did the same. “i’m sorry too. and i’m working on it.” 

i nodded slightly. “i know… but it’s been three years that you’ve been working on it.” my arms didn’t circle around his back in return. 

“stuff takes time… you know that.” james pulled away, hands on my waist as he looked at me. i nodded. “do you want me to order take out?” 

i nodded my head. “we already ate but sure.” james smiled and kissed me once. i didn’t close my eyes. 

“i’ll go order. you can change into something else.” he smiled and left the room. 

i sighed once he was gone, almost deflating. as i changed i glanced at my phone, itching to call someone.

“hey, mom.” i gave in and called my mom. 

she was delighted to hear from me, answering the call with a happy, “hey! how are you and james?” i sighed and rubbed my eyes. “did something happen?”

“yeah… well… i don’t know.” i replied. “we got into an argument.”

“about what?” 

“… spencer.” i uttered my coworkers name quietly. 

my mom sighed on the other end. “how’d it start?”

i went off in a rant when she asked, telling her about the entire argument. 

“… wow…” that was all my mom said after i’d calmed down. she paused. “well… what do you think of the whole conversation?”

i shrugged with an exhausted sigh. “i don’t know, mom. he just…” i put my head in one hand. “he doesn’t get it. spencer is my best friend and yes, friends are close, no that doesn’t mean we’re into each other. i don’t know why he gets mad at me for it.” i picked at my nails as spencer popped into my head.

“maybe he’s jealous.” my mom suggested it but she sounded very sure. “you do see spencer everyday and rarely ever see james.” 

“he’s not jealous.” i scoffed. “he knows spence isn’t a threat to our relationship. i… i love james.” i felt like i was convincing myself.

my mom hummed to herself. “you sounded hesitant.” 

i groaned. she can see right through me. “i have to go. thank you for talking with me.” i told her.

“of course. i love you.”

“i love you, mom.” i hung up and squeezed my phone in my hand. “you’re okay.” i told myself before walked into the living room where james was seated on the couch. 

he was working on his computer and didn’t look at me when i sat beside him. my phone was set on my coffee table.

“what’re you working on?” i wondered. my cheek rested on his shoulder. 

“just something i forgot to get done earlier.” he was vague but kissed the top of my head with a quick turn of his. “food will be here soon.” 

i nodded and closed my eyes only for a few minutes. 

my phone started to ring from where it was on the table and james grabbed it, answering the call without even reading the callers name. “this is james.” he said. “she’s right next to me, why do you need to talk to her?” 

i sat up from where i was rested against james as i listened to him speak with the caller. he sounded upset about who was calling. 

his eyes drifted to me. “mhm… okay, yeah, i’ll tell her. bye.” he hung up and set my phone on the coffee table harshly. “it was spencer. he said you guys have a case.” he said it without even looking at me. his jaw was clenched. 

my eyes lingered in his profile and with a quick swallow i stood up, phone in my hand as i went back to our room to grab my go bag and change into something else.

when i walked back out and headed to the door james looked at me from over the back of the couch. “how long are you gonna be gone?” he asked. 

i shrugged. “i’ll let you know when i get to the tarmac.” i said it nicely but he only settled into the couch again, his back to me. “i’ll see you when i get back. i love you.” 

he only hummed and i left.

[midnightswithdearkatytspb]

MidnightsWithDearKatyTSPB’s Recommendation List: March PT. 2

Welcome to part 2 of March’s recommendation list. Down below, you can find the link to take you back to part 1 featuring Peaky Blinders, Frankie Morales from Triple Frontier, Frank Castle, and the works that I posted. I still have some specialists that I’m traveling to go see, so there might not be 32 links this time around, but we’ll have to wait and see. The goal for March is to write another chapter In This Heart and rewrite The Spark. If you are interested in having your writing challenges featured here, or your stories, or even just your blog, please feel free to tag me in your works, message me, or use the hashtag MidnightWithDearKatyTSPB. I hope you are having an amazing March and you didn’t have such a hard time springing ahead. 

☘️ March '23 Pt. 1

April '23 Pt. 1 🌸

Masterlist

37 of 44 Years (Moodboard) ... Dedication to my parents.

All For You My Daisy (Moodboard) >> Garret Hedlund, Pedro Pascal, and Tommy Shelby

Begin Again (Moodboard) >> Ted Lasso x OFC!Penny Fletcher | Moodboard made for @teds-mustache-wrangler story Begin Again.

Innocence and Sadness (Moodboard) >> Arthur Shelby ... dedicated to @cillmequick

Peaky x Lana Challenge (Moodboard) >> Alfie Solomons x Reader x Tommy Shelby | “I’ve got a black limousine and two gentlemen who escort me through these halls.” 

Two Broken Souls (Moodboard) >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Estella Holland | “Come, Josephine in my flying machine. Going up, she goes, up she goes.”

Update//Calm Down by All Time Low (Moodboard) >> Garrett Hedlund, Luke Grimes, and Pedro Pascal

ONE-SHOTS:

As His Daughter by @sneakyblinders >> Dad!Tommy Shelby x Reader ft. Daughter!Kate Shelby - Summery: As Kate Shelby becomes an older sister yet again, she realizes she doesn't really know her father. Her mother is on a mission to change that. | You'll go through the emotions with this one, I promise. For those who need the warning, there are mentions of childbirth!

Loving Girl by @valentine-in-my-quinjet >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: You've always known you would be a better partner for Tommy. After Grace died, you had to reassess your motivations for being close to Tommy because he needed a friend more than ever before. | You will need a tissue with this one. TW: Suicide Mentioned

Make Your Heart My Home by @look-at-the-soul >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summery: Y/N hasn't had the best life. In fact, she's physically running from it into the physical arms of one Tommy Shelby, who saves her. | Read this, get a little emotional, but fall in love with its ending.

Mr. Girraffe by @teenwolf-theoriginals >> Dad!Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Florence's giraffe gets lost in Johnny Dogs camp. | The family dynamic in this is quite adorable, and I love how sweet Tommy is as well.

The Perfect Team by @runnning-outof-time >> Arthur Shelby x Reader - Summary: Arthur's ability to reason with (Y/N)'s child has them realizing that they work rather well together. | This is absolutely adorable and light-hearted, definitely recommend reading it.

'Teach You a Lesson by @celticmelody >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: you’re soon to marry Thomas Shelby, the infamous horseman amongst the gangsters in Birmingham. however, when he finds out you’ve never ridden before, he makes it a task to teach you… amongst other lessons that unravel afterwards. | If all riding lessons with Tommy were to end this way, I would take them every day as well. 🥵

When One Heart Breaks The Other, Follows by @little-diable >> Tommy Shelby x Reader | Summary: Tommy has been at war for months, and the only thing the reader can cling to is the letters he kept writing. Until the day when he no longer writes to her, when she no longer knows if he's alive or not. All until one last letter finds its way to her. | I've been emotional lately, okay? So did I need tissues when I read this? Yes! But was I smiling by the end? YES!

SERIES:

*A Different Sort of Man Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 by @evita-shelby >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Eva, Canon!Tommy x Grace Burgess - Summary: Or where Eva plays around with magic, and Tommy wakes up in a universe where Grace is his wife. While in that universe, Tommy discovers just how different his life would have been if he had pursued the pretty witch in 71 Watery Lane. | My mother always warned me growing up to never fiddle with magic, but this just makes me want to... Only two chapters in, and it's so good. The switching of points of view is everything I could have asked for.

The Photographer // Part 13 by @midnightmagpiemama >> Modern!Tommy Shelby x Photographer!Reader - Summary: Hired to take pictures of your boyfriend's cousin's wedding, you are excited to spend the night in the presence of your boyfriend doing what you love. The night, however, doesn't go as according to plans. Or, the one where Gina and Micheal get married, Gina sits Lizzy at Tommy's table. And people have opinions on your relationship with Tommy. | Erin is such a fantastic writer, and I truly love this series. In this chapter, she just captures Tommy and Polly so beautifully.

A Royal Wedding of Small Heath Part 1 // Part 2 by @sneakyblinders >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Tommy is getting married in what the newspaper is calling The Royal Wedding of Small Heath with the announcement of their engagement. It's fitting, as his wife is his Queen. | If I had to picture my wedding to Tommy, this is exactly how I would want it to go. I love how some parts came straight from the TV show. It was just perfect.

Welcome to Downtown, Mr. Shelby by @notyour-valentine >> Tommy Shelby x Crawley!OC - Summary: He was born on a boat, with neither of his parents sure of the date after the fact, unregistered and unlisted until he went to fight for his country. Her birth had been celebrated with the ringing of church bells, champagne toasts, and announcements in newspapers on both sides of the Atlantic. Their worlds could not have been more different, and perhaps that was why, when Thomas Shelby looked at Lady Charlotte Crawley, he saw more than her title, more than her looks- he saw an opportunity. | Enjoyed reading this and emerging myself into this little world, and look forward to what is to come for Charlotte and Tommy.

SERIES:

*Push & Pull // Chapter 4: Coming Of Age by @milkymoon2483 >> Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OC Hannah Friedman - Summary: You’re going back to your small town for your father’s funeral and Shiva. You know you’re about to face family drama, but what worries you the most is that you’re going to see HIM, your dad’s long-time friend and probably the most attractive man you have ever met.  When Frank finally sees you and realizes that you're all grown up, he struggles with accepting his budding feelings for you. | This chapter had me feeling so many emotions. You start with a stomach drop, then you feel so sad, and then you end it on a great high, needing a tall glass of water to cool down. Anna knows how to make you feel every emotion that the main character is going through at every moment of the chapter. That is a true talent.

Triple Frontier:

🍑 Appeteaser Benny Miller + Shower Sex by @dameronscopilo >> Benny Miller x Reader - Summary: Benny comes home after a long day and enjoys some time with his girl. | Let me just say this is really hot, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Here With Me by @pasukiyo >> Frankie Morales x f!reader - Summary: When your husband promises it will only be one week, your gut tells you it won't, you beg him to stay if not just for you, but for your family. (Horrible summary by me) | This starts off so sad and emotional, and it ends on a spicy note. It's perfect.

A Proposition by @dameronscopilot >> Santiago "Pope" Garcia x f!reader x Benjamin "Benny" Miller - Summary: Benny returns to Florida after six months of backpacking his way across Australia, and the surf and sun have treated him well. Very well. You can't help but notice. ...Santiago thinks that maybe it's time for the two of you to change things up in the bedroom. Because if he's going to share you with anyone, it's most certainly going to be Benjamin Miller | Is it just me, or is it really HOT in here right now? 🥵 I think I better go open the window after reading this one.

Untitled Sick!fic with Benny by @dameronscopilot >> Benny Miller x Reader - Summary: benny knows exactly what you need when you're sick—in more ways than one. | If Benny ever wants to come to take care of me like this when I'm sick, or now even, he's more than welcome.

"Wear whatever you want, I can fight." by @plaguedoctorsmistress >> Benny Miller x Reader - Summary: When your boyfriend can’t seem to do anything but whine about your outfit, Benny’s jealousy finally gets the best of him, and he takes matters into his own hand. | Benny can defend my honor any day and call me princess all he wants.

*The Wedding Party by @goodwithcheese >> Frankie Morales x f!reader - Summary: Series Summary: A combined bachelorette/bachelor party introduces you to a brown-eyed pilot. | I loved this series so much that I read it in one night on AO3 when I came across it. I'm so glad it came up on my dashboard so I could share it with you guys here. It's both fluffy and sexy!

You Again?! by @theunbearableweightofpedropascal >> Benny Miller x Reader - Summary: You keep running into the guy you had sex with in an airport bathroom. | If you looking for some good spiciness and a mixture of giggles, this one is for you.

CILLIAN MURPHY:

Chances Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, & Part 4 by @creativepawsworld >> Cillian Murphy x OFC!Paige - Summary: A single mother meets an unlikely lover after a concert. Putting herself out of her comfort zone. Can she find herself a mate for life? | The story has everything in it, fluff, a little bit of angst, and some spiciness.

Quicky by @peakyscillian >> Cillian Murphy x Fem!Reader - Summary: Cillian just can't wait. | If you are looking for something romantic, hot, and with a dash of laughter, this is it.

GERALT OF RIVIA:

Late Bloomer by @cherienymphe >> Alpha!Geralt x Omega!Reader - Summary: Geralt of Rivia saves you from more than just a werewolf attack. | Sometimes, a one-shot is so good you share it twice with your followers. I'm pretty sure I shared it when I first started doing recommendations, and I'm sharing it again.

PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS:

Chokehold by @psychedelic-ink >> Joel Miller x Reader x Ezra - Summary: Joel’s frustrations run deep; to him, you were a twisted source of purity; touching you forced him to think, forced him to feel. But not Ezra. With him, he could do anything. A scary yet also exhilarating feeling. Or alternatively: You wake up to Joel and Ezra having sex. | The emotions you feel while reading this are just too good for me not to share.

I Forgot About Time and Space by @psychedelic-ink >> Ezra x Fem!Reader - Summary: You cook for Ezra's guests, and seeing the sight of you being so domestic awakens something in him. | The smut in this *chef's kiss* and the plot in general. Please read this when you are alone. You'll thank me later.

*The Infinity Cube by @littlemisspascal >> Marcus Pike x Reader ft. Various Pedro Characters - Summary: When you play with a strange cube, you’re transported out of your current reality with your boyfriend Marcus into brand new ones starring alternate versions of your boyfriend who look and act entirely different every time. With each encounter, you start to wonder if you’ll ever make it back to your real universe? | Such a good use of the Multiverse and it introduced me to characters that Pedro played that I haven't yet watched. Rae does an amazing job keeping you at the edge of your seat and passing off such deep emotions. It's a must read for Pedro Pascal fans.

*Meet The Millers by @musings-of-a-rose >> Joel Miller x Benny Miller x Will Miller x f!reader - Summary: Moving into the Boston Quarantine Zone after nearly 20 years on the outside takes some adjusting. A misdirection one night guides you to the 3 men who will change the course of your life. | This series has a little bit of everything from drama to love and spiciness. There isn't much more you could ask for out of this series other than wishing for more.

When You're Reading Me by @psychedelic-ink >> Joel Miller x Reader - Summary: If you had to make a list of things Joel Miller might buy you as a gift— nipple clamps would not be a part of it. | *Internally screams* This was really hot, and I think I'll go grab a cold shower now.  

STRANGER THINGS:

The Grief of Losing Eddie Munson by @eufezco >> Steve Harrington x Reader - Summary: Best friends with Eddie Munson, the reader goes through the stages of grief of losing her best friend with her family at her side. | Someone pass me the box of tissues. This was so good. I cried through almost the whole thing.

MOODBOARDS:

My Luck by @forgottenpeakywriter >> Tommy Shelby x Reader

My Sun, My Moon and All My Stars by @zablife >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Aurora Sabini | Lee puts together a breathtakingly beautiful moodboard for a what-if scenario in the Peaky Blinders universe. It leaves you wanting to read more and more for the couple.

Your Bread by @forgottenpeakywriter >> Alfie Solomons x Reader

Your Eyes by @forgottenpeakywriter >> Tommy Shelby x Reader

You Like That by @dearshelby >> Tommy Shelby x Reader | Tall glass of cold water to cool down, please!

@psychedelic-ink - SIL, is such an amazing writer, writing most recently for Pedro Pascal's characters and sharing her amazing works with us here. Her masterlist includes more than just Pedro's characters, having written for the MCU and Oscar Isaac, to name a couple. I love the emotions you feel through every piece of writing she puts out, and I have yet to find a piece I don't like. I think you'll find you like or perhaps love her writing just as much as I do.

@shelbydelrey - Isa is a Peaky Blinder writer whose work I enjoy reading and love seeing the moodboards she puts out as well. I would definitely give Isa a follow because she brings positivity to your dashboard with her reviews and welcoming spirit.

[the-lost-beast]

WiP intro : The Lost Beast, a BotW fanfiction series

INFO-DUMP:

Working Title : The Lost Beast

Genres : adventure, fantasy, coming-of-age, a dash of romance

Fandom : Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Setting : Before the Great Calamity

Status : 1st draft in progress - now posting on Wattpad and AO3

Synopsis : The Champions have just begun their training when Revali meets the renegade pilot of the Hebra, the long-since forgotten people of the mountains. A fifth Divine Beast could be a key asset in Zelda's plans to stand against Calamity Ganon... if she can convince the Hebra to join their fight.

Tropes : found family, mixed identity, overcoming trust issues, revisionism, miscommunication, rivals to lovers (kinda)

Featured ships : Revali x OC, Zelda x Link, Zelda x Mipha, other m/m ships

Links : Pinterest 

The aesthetic moodboard (first picture) was made on Canva using pictures from Pinterest, all avaible on the pin board for this wip. I do not own these pictures.

THE OC / MC :

Akah-El / Akkaël (they/them) was born among the Hebra, a tribe living in Hebra Mount, but they never really belonged there. Maybe it’s just the recluse nature of their tribe, or the fact their only parent died when they were too young to remember, or maybe it’s because they’re a half-breed. One night, after an incident that turns their life upside-down forever, they run from the Den and find refuge in Rito Village. But their past is following closely, unwilling to let them forget their mistakes.

OTHER OCs:

Reyn (they/them) : A Hebra, they are Akkaël’s genitor. They were once the pilot of Divine Beast Vah’Auroris, but died during the Tabantha War. 

Kíran (he/him) : A Rito, former warrior. Somewhat distant and recluse.

Meikko (they/them) is the head of the Hebra tribe. They raised Akkaël after Reyn’s death.

Bellam (he/him) : Elder of the Rito tribe. Might or might not be secretly in love with Kíran while also being responsible for the loss of his loved one

Vah’Auroris is the Hebra’s Divine Beast and has the shape of a polar bear. Its mysterious origins and pagan mecanisms cause it to be frowned upon by the Hyrulean Royal Family. (More on the making and functioning of Auroris in an upcoming post)

The Hebra tribe are a people whose origins are unclear. They live within Hebra Mount, in tunnels, are known for their stealth and savagery but nothing else. Twenty years ago, a war opposed them to their Rito neighbours.

The story features all major characters from the game (Link, Zelda, the Champions, King Rhoam, the Sheikah, etc)

SOOO...

What to expect? In few words: NB rep! Non-gendered bodies! Casual gay romance! Love/hate relationships, overcoming traumas through love and friendship, opening up! LOTS of worldbuilding (sorry) including NEW PEOPLE, PLACES, DIVINE BEASTS (I have zero chill)

English is my second language. I’m trying my best but, be warned, there’ll be a few mistakes

The story is mainly centered arround Akah-El’s journey as a Champion, as they struggle with:

finding their identity as a half-breed

navigating beliefs and customs that aren’t theirs

fighting stereotypes surrounding their own people

overcoming their trust issues in order to create strong bonds with the other Champions

But also features :

exploration of the relationships between the Champions

casual exploration of the land

the role of Hyrule’s Royal Family in shaping their history and how they influence all of Hyrule’s destiny

I use and try to make the most of different theories surrounding BotW. The story features new people, minor and major characters and minor locations, though I try to keep it as canon as possible (the outcome of the battle is not changed, for example)

I treat Divine Beasts as people (almost) and tackle their bond with their pilots. All pilots intervene in the story (actually at some point this turns into a road buddies movie)

SPIN-OFFS AND SEQUEL :

Yes, they’re already planned! So far, three of them are outlined :

The Champion’s Ballad: The Lost Song is based upon the DLC and stays true to it, only focusing on Champion Akkaël’s story and last moments. Estimated length: 20k

Champions of Shadow is a prequel in which we follow Akkaël’s parents when they meet during the war and how that turned out for them, also tackling more of the Hebra’s origins. Estimated length: 100k

The Champions’ Legacy is The Lost Beast’s sequel. New Champions arise and join the fight against Ganon, along with their Divine Beast - yes, the story features 3 new Divine Beasts and their Champions! This story is most likely to be influenced by the relase of Tears of the Kingdom.

Hit me up if you have any questions or wish to be added to the taglist!

[metagalacticx]

you’re crying because you’re ten.

Theo gets to go outside every once in a while, and he runs.

hi, so um. this idea of theo crying during his time with the dread doctors wouldn’t leave me alone? i wrote about it and i wanted to share it but i didn’t want to spend time editing it so here it is presented pretty much how it was typed in its entirety in @allyjostan’s inbox 💕 (this was inspired by her own writing about theo’s time as a child with the dread doctors).

cw and tw below the cut: blood, injury, canon-typical violence, thoughts about death.

Theo gets to go outside every once in a while, and he runs. He can do that now, without wheezing. Without the threat of another attack. In every hazy memory he still has, his mother’s shrill voice begs him to stop once he feels that first pang, but he’s been stubborn for longer than he’s been able to walk, and has always muscled through until his lungs burned. He’s running now, not away from anything, not really. But he’s panting hard and every few minutes he glances at the road he’s leaving behind. The toe of his sneaker snags in a crack and he stumbles, is quick to swing his arms to keep himself upright, but he falls anyway. His elbows hit the ground and his knees skid. Every surface of skin that’s made contact with the asphalt stings. With a sharp intake of air he cranes his neck, then rolls over with a grunt. There’s the expectation, faint in his head, for someone to rush over and ask if he’s okay, but he squints down the road he’s trying to leave behind and no one’s there. It’s just him and the setting sun. 

At first he doesn’t get it. That neither his Mom nor his Dad will come running (because being sickly since birth meant physical endeavors were supervised); Tara doesn’t shout and tell him to stop crying either, doesn't run over to check that he’s okay. His hands— palms chipped and riddled with flecks of street— are strong enough to push himself to sit, with tears staining his face, blood on his knees and the stinging pain that hasn't got any better yet. Because he still heals so slowly. They promised he’d be stronger, that he would never feel pain again, but it hurts so much. He keeps staring at all of it— the mess of bloody, peeled skin— wondering what to do. And nothing seems like a good idea. Eventually he stops crying, not because it hurts any less but because he remembers why he needed to run. So he stumbles into standing even though the cuts sting, because he has to make it on time; he turns his back to the sun and starts again. The pain gets worse but he keeps running. -

He’s at the skatepark. The abandoned one with the tops of the ramps covered in overgrowth and their bellies stained with the shapes of dried-again puddles, two streets from his school. He hasn’t been in a while. He thought it’d been a few days but sometimes when he runs past after the bell, he doesn’t recognise any of the kids or the cars. 

There are no lights that flicker on to make up for the dimming sun; he knows he only has about twenty minutes of daylight left before it’s too dark to judge where he’s supposed to land. He can see in the dark now, but it’s hard for him. They told him he’d develop so many abilities but even on good days he’s lucky to do any of them. So he doesn't want to try skating in the dark. It’s after bargaining with himself to try the flip once more that he falls, and he thinks he’s okay so he tries getting up; has to yelp in a mix of confusion and pain when his arm won’t move. He’s never broken a limb before— because before the Doctors he’d had asthma, and having asthma means not doing enough physical activity to break any bones.

But this feels close enough to broken. It hurts like hell.

He tries moving his fingers and his thumb twitches.

The others just lie there on the ground, unresponsive. Splayed just like him.

There’s a drawn-out whine as he tries to move again but he can’t and it’s starting to upset him because he needs to go. He doesn’t want to stay here in the dark. He doesn't want to get back late. He doesn't want to make them mad. Again.

If he just lifts his shoulder, he thinks, he can at least drag himself off the ground, but it doesn’t work. It just hurts more.

He uses his other hand, tries to lift it that way, and the groan echoes around him. The pain is sickening, makes him want to hurl everything in his guts out onto the ground.

With his teeth clenched he tightens his hold around his arm and drags it off the ground, sits up and goes to his knees. He’s trembling. It hurts so much, but he’s got his arm up. He thinks he’s okay but he’s still shaking. He tries breathing hard. Through clenched teeth. In. Out. In. When he breathes out he sobs. No tears come at first. Just the broken sound from his throat. He closes his mouth to keep the sound in. Then he tries breathing again. In. Out. In. He sobs again, tightening his hold on his possibly broken arm. In. Out. In. The next breath out is the worst. His throat burns and his eyes do too. Tears stream their way down his face, and he just keeps sobbing. In. Out. In. Out. In.

-

He’s lying on the table and the Geneticist is above him, talking to the Surgeon. They’re talking like they normally would (which is still very abnormal for him because the sounds give him a headache). But he clenches his eyes shut to prepare for whatever else they have planned for him tonight, today… he’s not sure what time it is. He thinks he’s been lying down for a couple hours but last time three days had passed. He doesn’t remember sleeping.

The Geneticist says something and the Surgeon agrees. She leaves the room and he feels colder, the air sinking around him like the chill from a freezer.

The Surgeon says something that he can’t make out but it doesn't matter anyway. The Surgeon never waits for him to respond. Nothing he could say would change anything, so like always, he imagines his eyes are open, staring up at the instruments he still can’t name.

The first sting is from a needle in his leg. He’s used to that. He’s still more used to feeling them elsewhere. Before the Doctors. When he would have Tara’s favourite teddy bear beside him on his tiny bed. Before.

Now, it stings. His leg stings. It’s no longer familiar. The pain starts from his calf and scorches its way up his thigh until his hips are burning and then his belly is on fire. He wriggles a bit on the metal bed. His face is scrunched because he’s grown more tolerant to pain but he’s not immune. It really, really hurts now. He tries to say something, he’s not sure what, maybe that it hurts… maybe to ask the Surgeon to stop. But what comes out is a discordant wail. He can’t form the words. And then he remembers as the pain reaches his throat and he feels like he’s being torn open from the inside, that even if he could form the words, it wouldn’t matter, because the Surgeon wouldn’t listen. He never does.

He lies there on the metal bed writhing and screaming as the pain wraps around his neck and fires up his jaw until it finally reaches his head. He screams, long and raw and loud. It hurts more than anything ever has. He’s sure he’s dying. There’s nothing in his head now. Just burning, searing pain. He’s sure he’s dying. He screams until his lungs burn. Until everything is on fire and he can’t feel.

He screams until he thinks he’s dead.

-

The fourth time he’s not sure why he cries. He’s walking around an empty house. The Pathologist tells him he’ll be living here from now on. It’s a lot like his house in Beacon Hills. Except this one has a basement. Two steps at a time, his ten-year old legs carry him upstairs; there are two rooms. His house had three. Tara’s room was more like their room, and his room was where he’d go if they had a fight. He’s staring at the closed doors and the thought comes, that his house probably only has two rooms now. His parents’. And his. Empty and dusty like it always is. Because he was hardly ever there. Now there’s no Tara so her room is gone. His parents are gone too but he had nothing to do with that. Tara’s room disappearing is his fault.

He opens the door farther from the stairs and peers inside. There’s a bed. Some trophies on a shelf. Shiny, gilded evidence a sporty kid used to live here. Before they disappeared. People tend to disappear a lot wherever he shows up.

He sits on the bed for a while, staring out the curtain-less window. It’s bright and sunny outside. If he wanted he could probably go skating, find a sidewalk and forget everything. That usually helps.

He stands, puts one foot in front of the other to make his way downstairs, but he slips, careens towards the door and his head smashes against the edge. His body crumples in the doorway. There’s blood. There’s so much blood. He tries to push himself up but his hand slips in the slick, red liquid and there’s a sickening crack as his chin hits the floor.

He doesn't try to call out. No one would hear him. Everyone’s disappeared.

Instead he flips over and the back of his head knocks against the floorboards.

There’s blood on his face, above his eyebrows and over his eyelids. Before it gets into his eyes he wipes the back of his hand across his face, swiping blood in his eyes because his hand is covered in it.

It stings.

He clenches his eyes shut but it doesn't help. There’s blood in his eyes. His head feels light. It doesn't hurt that much.

It doesn’t really hurt at all.

When he opens his eyes, they leak: running down the side of his face, across his temples and to the floor. At first he thinks, groggily, maybe he’s bleeding from his eyes. Maybe his own blood’s poisonous. They told him he’s immune to so many things now that they’ve made him whole but he still feels pain and he can’t eat old donuts he scavenges without feeling queasy. And he’s still clumsy.

It’s then he realises he’s crying.

He doesn’t know why.

It doesn’t hurt.

None of it does.

But he’s crying.

-

Theo’s sitting in a cage.

By now he’s used to it. He knows how to get in and out without alerting anyone. Or anything. Sometimes though, he thinks the Pathologist knows.

But he doesn’t get punished so he slips in and out when he feels it’s safe enough.

(It’s never actually safe but he’s gauged how much he can endure from his little trips around the lair).

He hasn’t been outside today, tonight… He still doesn't know what time it is. He doesn’t remember sleeping, but his eyes burn so maybe he’s been awake the whole time.

It’s not safe today.

So he stays inside.

His head is on his knees, turned so he can watch the tiny bulb near the doorway flicker. He’s timed it perfectly so each time it does he closes his eyes and opens them at the exact moment it flickers back on. 

His eyes burn.

The bulb flickers, he closes his eyes, breathes out in perfect sync with the darkness enveloping the room, then opens them just when it flickers on. Perfect.

He does it again.

And again.

Close, breathe out. Open.

Again.

Close, breathe out. Open.

Again.

When he closes his eyes this time the light doesn’t go out. He can tell because he sees red behind his eyelids instead of the dark he’s used to. The nothingness he’s worked up the courage to face. He opens his eyes when he’s supposed to, and the bulb goes out.

It never comes back on.

Theo sits there in darkness, the whir of an old fan in the corner and the hum of electricity the only stimuli for his senses. After a while his eyes stop burning, but he doesn't sleep. Can’t, really. He hasn’t eaten in a while, and his stomach is starting to hurt. It feels like a cramp, like it’s twisting, folding in on itself. They said he’d be so much better at everything since they fixed him but sometimes Theo doesn’t really want to use any of his new abilities. Sometimes he just wants to eat. So he keeps his eyes closed. Keeps his head on his knees. Hopes his stomach keeps twisting on itself. Until it twists itself out of him. So he wouldn’t need to eat. Hopes the lights never come back on. Hopes when he opens his eyes again it’s just as dark and silent as it is in his head. He hopes he can fall asleep like this, forever like this. He doesn’t want to breathe in and out to the flicker of bulbs. Doesn’t want to slip in and out of cages anymore. Doesn’t want to move from house to house, or lay on metal tables and scream himself to death. He doesn’t even want to skate anymore. Doesn’t want to run. Doesn’t want.

But… Maybe if he could… he wouldn’t mind seeing his parents again. Or Tara.

His eyelids are still closed but the thought of Tara makes them flutter. He doesn’t really remember her anymore. He wants to.

Sometimes he sees her, in the river. Theo, she said.

Sometimes he sees her, across from him, when he’s on a metal table. It’s okay, she says.

He’s not sure which is real. They both feel like the last time he saw her.

Here, in the darkness, he wishes he could see her again.

She probably wouldn’t know how to slip into his cage, but she’d reach out, he knows, to wipe his tears. Why are you crying, it’s not like you’re going to die, she’d say.

He wishes she could say that just one more time.

So he could tell her that maybe this time he will.

[hobbit--punk]

Okay, so Hobbitpunk is a thing now. We're doing this.

This started because of... well, you can read it here. But the basic premise is that I love punk and I love cottagecore, but can't seem to find an online community that isn't mostly about “the aesthetic” without practical lifestyle ideas. Look, I love a moodboard as much as the next person, I really do. But I can only handle so many scripted TikTok videos and screenshots from Animal Crossing.

We've all been sitting here pining for a romanticized life that we see in curated media, but the facts of the matter are that most of us can't have that life, not the way things are now. I don't know about you, but I have neither the money nor the skill to go peace out to a farm and live close to nature. It would be a disaster. It would also accomplish absolutely jack for anyone who wasn't me and my husband. I also can't open a bookstore or a tea shop, and I'm WAY too broke to fill my wardrobe with fair trade, sustainably made clothing unless I pick up the needle and do it myself (which... in progress.).

If you're anything like me, you're at best living in a meh apartment that the landlord doesn't take care of, in a city somewhere. You might also be living with family in an environment you can't control, or in a small town where you're literally the only person with your interests. I've done both of these as well, which is why my punk/goth phase waited until I was in my 20s to actually become visible. Heh heh. “Phase.” I'm in my late 30s now.

Anyway. I'm not really proposing an aesthetic. There probably will be one, I can't see this happening without inspiration photos from time to time, but I actually want whatever this is to be a practical lifestyle that everyday doofuses like you and me can do. “Hobbitpunk” is... exactly what it says on the tin. Punk ideals in a hobbity skill set, or vice versa. Tearing down a defunct, bullshit system and replacing it with something wholesome.

The original post included this, as the sort of thing I've been picturing:

Imagine drinking tea while lounging in a room full of mismatched, thrifted furniture that’s comfy as shit, but held together with duct tape. You’re wrapped in a handmade quilt, and reading Karl Marx. There are assorted dumpster dived containers on your windowsill full of herbs and salad greens. You’ll make hot soup for supper, and share it with a half-dozen other freaks who showed up to plan a direct action that will probably involve stolen fireworks. Somebody baked bread to go with the soup, and a friend with a green mohawk and waistcoat covered in patches brought cookies.

From discussions with others, here are some of the ideas.

Ideals: Crafting, anarchy, adventure, home and hearth stuff, homecooked food, radical body acceptance, political activism, books, music, sustainability, feminism, and socialism (or communism, if that's your thing) are good. Transphobia, homophobia, the patriarchy, white supremacy, consumerism, capitalism, abuse, war, and whatever the hell these “Tradwife” folks are doing (I'm still not sure, other than promoting some serious Stockholm Syndrome with your abusers?) are bad.

I'm personally a fan of peace and love, but I do know that sometimes, you gotta swing the frying pan and bash some orcs.

Decor: Your living quarters are probably fine as they are. I'm not telling you to go shopping for this. If you don't like how your place looks now, then keep your eyes open at thrift stores for things like handmade quilts and afghans, good quality cooking tools, and anything that looks cozy and comfy. Don't worry if it matches or not, just make it the sort of place that someone would feel safe in. Books, maps, embroidered pillows, swords, whatever. You do you.

Clothing: Yes, yes, I know there's a “punk uniform” and the Hobbits in the movies had a very specific “look.” We're not cosplaying here. Put down the prosthetic ears. PUT THEM DOWN. Your closet... is probably fine as it is. If you've made it this far in my post, then I imagine you're already kind of halfway there. Dress comfy, and to your tastes. Have fun. You wanna dye your hair purple? Wear a corset and an apron? Combat boots and a wool waistcoat? Go for it.

Just try not to purchase “fast fashion” clothing from WalMart, or wherever. Thrift stores are what I'd recommend. Or learn to sew, and just kind of stay aware of where your fabrics are coming from.

Activities: Learn to make things. Sewing, cooking, woodworking, leatherworking, whatever. Hop onto YouTube and explore. Read books, all of the books. Take care of your neighbors and make sure the people around you are safe. Hunt racists for sport. Steal from the rich (if that's your thing). Rescue animals. Rescue people out of abusive/dangerous situations. Show up to the protests with soup. Find what needs done in your community and do it yourself if you can. Host potlucks and feed people. Go on road trips. Make tea. And beer if you want. Share your skills with the community so others can do the thing too.

If I can pull this off, I'll try to share videos with skills and links to information as I can find it. If y'all find something cool too, please feel free to show it to me. The asks and submissions are open. Do the thing. 

[peaceisadirtyword]

Summer in Kattegat

Hello!! Finally I can show you what I’ve been working on for the past two months 🥰 This was an idea I had for Christmas, but I didn’t have time to do it and I realized there was too many fics to fit them in 2 weeks, so I decided to do it for summer instead, there's more time and it kind of fits the vibe much better in my opinion! 

please don’t judge me I literally did this at 4am

And what’s the idea? While writing my fic for the Vikings Big Bang, I found a notebook I have where I wrote short stories inspired by Taylor Swift songs (I just reimagined the story she was telling in narrative). I reread them and even wrote a few more. I thought it would be nice to share them with someone so I turned them into fanfics! And all of them have certain similarities: they’re set in a Modern!AU, in which Kattegat is a small city in southern Norway during summer. There’s different stories with different plots and all of them have an ending. For now I'm writing for Ivar, Hvitserk and Ubbe, but I do have an idea with Björn and I might manage to find another one for Sigurd. And all of them are reader insert (sorry! I know most of you hate it, but I really didn’t have time to create an OC for each story😭) 

And all of them will have very ugly moodboards made by ME! did you see what I did there? like the one you can see up there 😭

Does this mean I won’t post anything else during this summer? Nope. I still need to post an one shot called Deal which is an Ivar&Hvitserk/Reader (👀), I need to continue Back To You and other series and I might drop other things too!

Can someone else post things for this project too? Absolutely🥺 In fact, I thought of making this a challenge, but I didn’t want it to flop😭 So I’m giving you all the chance to post your own Summer in Kattegat works! Whether it’s art, fics... Anything! There’s only one rule: it has to be set in summer (vikings era, modern or any other AU you’d like). That’s it! When you post it, I’ll add it to the main masterlist! 

When and how often am I going to post? If everything goes well tomorrow I will post the first one. I still don’t know whether it will be Ubbe/Reader or Hvitserk/Reader, whichever I finish editing first! And I will try to post very often! I have a couple of trips planned for this summer so I’ll make sure to leave them scheduled in case I can't post!😌

Am I back to writing? Yes, I think so😭 I’m not going to lie, I had some rough months and I thought ugly things :( suddenly I didn’t want to write, read, watch films or series, go out with friends... I only wanted to stay in bed all day, and I practically had to force myself to do things, which left me exhausted. I was a bit burnt out and I realized I had to stop for a while before I ended up hating it. Until now! I can’t say whether I’m fine or not because it depends of the day, but I’m much better than I was three months ago. I had time to process everything, including my surgery, the treatment (which is being a nightmare tbh), all the changes in my life... So yeah, it’s a start!

Do I love Ivar with my entire heart? Yes.

I don’t know what else I can say! The titles for the three firsts fics are Enchanted (Ubbe), Style (Hvitserk) and The Way I Loved You (Ivar). These will be the first ones I post🥰 

I’ll shut up now! Thank you if you read all of this, I hope there's at least one person excited about this! That’s more than enough for me❤️ See you tomorrow! 

BTW! the taglists: I’ll use the ones I already have, but if you want to be tagged in this project specifically just tell me!🥰

THANK YOU AGAIN💕

[syndxlla]

Part eleven of the More To Love series

Summary: You get a chance to reflect on who you are, where you are with your relationships, and what you really want in life with the help of your mother, the Queen of Corellia. You meet some new seemingly friends, who quickly prove you otherwise.

Word Count: 7.1k, NO USE OF ‘y/n’

Warnings: Non-consensual kiss, swearing, alcohol

Author’s note: i am LIVID. why tumblr only lets you have a certain amount of paragraphs in a post IDK! it’s dumb haha and the only reason i went over is because there is so much dialogue in this. BASICALLY. I am making the decision to go easy on myself. I know earlier today I said part 11 would be split into two, but i am going to just make the second half be part 12. SO. i made a new moodboard for this chapter! i hope you like it :).

i wanna say a big THANK YOU to @stinky-child for helping me edit this chapter and getting it out on time!

PART 12 WILL BE RELEASED THURSDAY, MAY 27TH AT 6pm PST, 9pm EST.

part ten

Koska escorted you back to your quarters, the castle corridors were finally starting to calm down a little bit, however, more and more special guests who would be staying in the palace over the weekend walked in and out of doors, most of them not paying any attention to you because of your drab attire. You hoped the knight made it to his meeting on time and dry. There was no way to know until tomorrow morning, however. Koska was silent as she walked behind you, her footsteps much lighter than the knight’s. Your hair was thick and frizzy from the effects of the elements, and you kept your face down out of a foreign sense of shame.

Keeping your face down can’t hide that sense of shame from everyone, however, and before you can make it to your room, you’re hearing a joyful gasp and footsteps pattering in your direction. You look up from your walk of shame to see someone very important to you, it’s not your Knight, it’s not even Soniee, no. It’s your mother, the Queen of Corellia. She’s accompanied by three Corellian guards and she’s wearing the most beautiful yellow gown you had ever seen. It was clearly a gift from Bo-Katan. You smiled brightly, relieved to see someone you love. It had only been a few weeks but it felt like an eternity. You had completely forgotten she would be coming to your engagement ball. You’ve been so preoccupied with the plans and teaching the Knight how to dance that it completely slipped your mind. Your mother had a wide smile on her face, too, and wore the traditional Corellian crown. You ran to her and embraced her fighting around the waist, something that was not appropriate for royalty in public like this but you couldn’t care less. You had been so emotionally confused over the last few weeks that there was nothing you needed more than a fulfilling hug from your parent. She hums with joy when you come into her arms, and she runs her slender fingers through your beautiful hair. You sigh of relief in her embrace.

“I had forgotten you were coming.” You admit, holding back tears of relief. She chuckles in response.

“You look a mess.” She replies and you’re the one to chuckle this time.

“I’ve had quite the day.” You smile, blushing as you remember who you spent it with. “Come, I have so much to tell you.” You pull away, holding her hands in yours and then leading her to the closest sitting room. You were finally starting to understand the layout of the Mandalorian palace, it only took two weeks. This room was the same blue as the royal color, you guide her to sit by you on the sofa, and Koska awkwardly follows. You look over to the handmaiden before standing and walking in her direction. “Lady Reeves, you are dismissed.” You nod while speaking in a regal tone, but after stating it, your voice hushes and you whisper to her, “Is he going to be alright?” You ask in reference to the Knight.

She nods once, “Even if he was late, he’s bound to duty by the Queen, he’ll be okay.” Your stomach twists.

“What does that even mean?” You ask, there is much he is not telling you.

Koska sighs, she seemed to regret saying that. “I’ll worry about him, you enjoy your time with your mother.” She nods to the Queen who was patiently awaiting your return. You smile a “thank you” and walk back to the Corellian Queen. When Koska closes the door finally, you slouch into the couch, feeling pure relief as you were alone with your kin.

“You look absolutely exhausted.” Your mother says.

“I am, life here is exhausting. There are so many rules, much more than back at home.” You awkwardly shrug.

“We miss you.”

“I miss you too, more than you know.” You were so homesick these days. “I had to spend four days learning all the rules and customs and I still take private lessons from the literal queen so I don’t embarrass her anymore.” You roll your eyes, knowing that you couldn’t express this arrogance to anyone else in the palace and taking advantage of the chance now.

“Oh, I'm sorry love, I worried that there might be a bit of a culture shock.” She takes your hand with hers, stroking the stop of it with her own cold hands.

“Is father here?” You ask, your eyes hopeful. That glimmer immediately fades when she sighs, her eyes leaving yours. “What? What’s wrong?”

“He’s not coming…”

“What? Why?”

“He’s… sick, I didn’t want to tell you but it’s your right to know. You would have eventually found out anyway.” She somberly explains.

“Is he okay?”

“Yes, we think so. But traveling and socializing in his condition was not realistic. We understand that rumors will start, but his health is necessary before an impending war.” She frowns, and you try not to let it upset you too much. “Enough of that, tell me about this place.” Her tone immediately flips.

You smile, “It’s so hot, much hotter than Corellia. I mean the heat is exhausting and the dresses are heavy and the tea parties are always outside and I always feel overheated.” You complain.

“Do you at least like the prince?” She asks. “Is he cute?”

Now you must choose if you’re going to lie, like you have for the last fortnight, or be truthful with the only person you feel that you can be. You sigh, and just look at her, defeated, hoping that would be enough to tell her.

She hums empathetically. “Oh dear.”

“Yeah…” You sigh, happy she understood and you didn’t have to make the decision of communication.

“Well, keep your head up, I didn’t really like your father all that much until we had you.” She chuckles.

“What?” You ask, your eyes showing surprise. “I had no idea…” You weren’t sure how much you liked that thought, your parents had always been an example of a couple you’d like to experience for yourself. “Why had you never told me?”

“There was no reason for you to know before now. The older you get, the more you’ll learn what you need to hear.” She explains. You supposed she was right. “And remember, it’s supposed to be a partnership—marriage that is— it’s not so bad if you work at it.”

“Well, he certainly likes being solo.” You humph. “He’s very kind, and it’s clear he cares for his kingdom but-“ You knew you weren’t being completely truthful with her.

“But what?”

You debated your next words. You wanted to tell her, more than anything you wanted your mother to know what was really going on, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew she wouldn’t understand. This marriage is a diplomatic solution to an oncoming war of her home kingdom. She wouldn’t understand the strife. “Nothing.” You feel untruthful to yourself, but you can’t do anything about it. “I just feel like I will be unhappy in our marriage.”

“Marriage isn’t supposed to make you happy.”

You hated that, it wasn’t the first time she had said it to you, either. When an arranged marriage was first brought up, she said it then for the first time. The other time she said it to you was about three weeks ago, just before you were going to leave Corellia and come to this ornate prison. It was your last attempt to try and get out of it, but she uttered those words and you had to live with it.

This time, you pulled your hand away from hers. “But what about love? I thought you loved my father!?”

“I do love him, but that didn’t happen for a long time, like I said, not until you were born.”

“So then what’s the reason for all this? For sending me here for a big ball and a fancy wedding if I am not supposed to love the man I’m sharing these parties with? How am I to enjoy marriage before children then?” You stand up on these words out of frustration. You hated feeling like your only purpose in this world is to bear children, to produce an heir.

“Love between royals is not a natural thing, it can’t just happen between any two people. There must be that connection there and it often isn’t developed for a while.” She chuckles. “What? Did you think you were going to live inside one of those fairytales your wet nurse used to tell you before you went to sleep?” She asks, looking up at you, surprised.

“What do you mean ‘between royals’?”

“We must do what’s best for our people, it’s selfish to marry for love when you are royalty.”

You feel defeated.

“No… No, there's so much more to love. Love is not selfish, in fact, I believe that loving someone with our hesitation and unconditionally is the most selfless act one could ever do.” Your voice raises just a bit. You meant every word you said.

“If you feel this way about love, then surely you must love the Prince. What’s the problem then? We’ve been preparing you for this reality for years, it’s not a new concept that you would not love immediately, I can only imagine you would feel so emotionally because you have those feelings for someone.”

Did you?

You consider what she was saying, your eyes trailing to the side as you thought. You supposed she was right, there would be no reason for you to feel so passionately about it if you hadn’t experienced it for yourself.

But you weren’t having that experience with Korkie, the hell you weren’t.

Did you love the Knight? You don’t know his name, you don’t know his face, you don’t know anything about him and yet you are starting to think that infatuation has grown into adoration. Your legs feel weak, and you have to slowly lower yourself onto the couch again, feeling woozy from the realization. How did you let it get so far? Your confused face turns to look at your mother’s, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly open.

“I sense you realized something you didn’t already know.”

You slowly nod your head. Unsure of how to react, you fiddle with your fingers, trying to gain your bearings again. You expect your mother to speak up but she never does.

Before the conversation continues, however, the door is pulled open and three Knights are walking in, a Butler steps in, “Her Majesty, The Queen.” He says before nodding and stepping away. Bo-Katan glides into the room, regal as ever. You and your mother stand up from where you sat, curtsying for your hostess.

“Your Majesty.” She takes your mother’s hand, both of them smiling and kissing one another on either cheek. “I trust your travels were comfortable?”

“Yes, your coachmen were very hospitable.” Your mother nods.

Korkie then enters the rooms with another young Prince who you hadn't met before. He was blonde, and skinny as a twig. He wore a white and gold ceremonial cloak that covered his right shoulder. You smile at Korkie out of Obligation, and he and the other prince bow to the women in the room.

“Princess!” Korkie cheers, “This is my cousin, Prince Hugo of Bespin.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” He takes your hand and kisses the top of it, his smile charming and blue eyes bright. You were flattered by the gesture, humming.

“The pleasure is mine.” You follow royal protocol. Then, another woman enters the room. She’s tall, an intricate headpiece adorns long, black hair and she has hypnotic, black eyes hidden by deep set, hooded eyes. She’s beautiful, with toned skin and red dots drawn under her lips making her stand out from everyone in the room.

“Ah, Her Majesty Queen Clarya of Naboo.” Bo-Katan introduces. The Elven Queen Ahsoka then enters the room, and everyone, even the Queens bow out of respect before the door is closed. The parlor is suddenly very full, and your intimate moment with your mother is lost entirely. You are suddenly very aware of your disheveled look, and try to run your fingers through your hair a few times.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you.” Clarya says, smiling. “I’ve heard so much about you.” Taking your hand and giving you a friendly squeeze.

“Oh… I’m afraid I haven’t heard much about you.” You apologize.

“No troubles, You are all the gossip among the other Kingdoms.” The eastern queen explains.

“Yes, It appears you are.” Korkie says, moving to stand by your side. “How wonderful that my beautiful wife-to-be is regarded so highly across the world.” He tries to take your hand but you pull it away, not necessarily meaning to, but it was a reflex that you failed to suppress after realizing you were in love with an entirely different man. He clears his throat, and the aura in the room is awkward, you aren’t sure what to do, so you just say the first thing to come out of your mouth.

“Have any of you gone to the beach? It’s lovely!” You awkwardly smile before walking over to the drink cart underneath a portrait of a Manda’lor of a past generation. You try to ignore all the people, feeling a little embarrassed that they were all seeing you dressed like this. You didn’t even think of what suspicion could be born out of that phrase.

“Oh yes, our sandy beaches are widely loved by all.” Bo-Katan takes a seat on the sofa in the place you had sat at just moments before, crossing her ankles under her gown. You shakily pour amber liquid into a crystal glass, your hand shaking as you bring it to your lips, taking a sip of the alcohol.

“Nothing like the Corellian beaches, I assume?” Your mother asks. “Our beaches are rocky and often frozen over.”

“Ah yes, but the Corellian ship fjords are lovely, what a wonderful exposure to culture you raised your daughter with!” Ahsoka sings.

“She turned out alright.” Your mother teases and everyone chuckles warmly. You turn around after drinking, and sheepishly smile. Gods you hope she meant that.

“Well, we are all very excited for the ball tomorrow.” Clarya says, “My assistant worked on a mask for hours the night before we left. It will be an extravagant sight to see everyone dressed so festively.”

“Of course, but we all know none of us can compare to the fashion and extravagance of the Naboolians.” Korkie hums. Everyone chuckles again. You nervously looked out to all of them, you had just made possibly the biggest mistake of your life and none of them paid any attention to you despite it. You had just shown Korkie your first and only sign of true disinterest the night before your engagement ball and you desperately wished you could go back in time and take his hand instead of denying the act of affection, even if you didn’t feel good about it.

“I think you will all be pleased to hear that it was the Princess who came up with the Masquerade idea.” Bo gestures to you. You smile with your teeth, trying to act normal and not like you were secretly dying inside. There is general amusement when that is said, and you can’t help but fidget with the crystal alcohol glass, wanting to leave the room and return to the comfortable embrace of the Knight on the beach.

“Beautiful and smart!” Korkie’s cousin laughs, putting emphasis on the ‘and’. “It’s not every day you find a woman like that!” Everyone laughs again, and this time you force out a faux chuckle to seem more involved in the eyes of the others. “You better hang onto her, Kork!” Korkie smiled at his cousin's words, looking over to you. You feel weak, not liking all the attention. If this much attention was making you feel this way, what would the ball with hundreds of guests tomorrow night be like?

“Yes but, I can’t seem to remember going to the beach with you?” Korkie asks, his diplomatic voice cutting through the laughter. You nervously laugh. He knew something was up. How could you be so careless?

“What? Did I say something about the beach?” You try to play it off cluelessly.

“Oh come on, we all know you aren’t that ditzy.” His cousin groans

“Your fiance asked you a question, dear.” Your mother prods.

“Yes, did you go to the beach sometime during your time here?” Bo-Katan is the one to ask this time, and your legs are starting to feel unsteady.

“It’s not a bad thing, we just want to know.” Korkie takes a step in your direction, making you feel closed in. “We all love the beach here and we are happy you have gotten the chance to enjoy it.” You sensed there was an undertone with his true meaning.

You weren’t sure if you believed him when he said this, “Is it hot in here?” You chuckle, “I think I’ll have another drink, would you like one, Korkie? You ask before turning around and pouring another glass of brandy. He can see how shaky your hand is as you try to fill the cup. He stands behind you, wrapping his arm around you and cupping your hand with his in an attempt to make the pouring more steady. The action startles you, and you flinch as a reaction, dropping the crystal glass in your hand. It was already partially full, and it falls down to the floor in slow motion, golden drink splashing out of it as glass shatters on impact, making a loud, crashing sound that sends shards out across the floor and leaves a puddle of alcohol to soak into the bottom hem of Koska’s sister’s dress. The women of the room gasp from shock, and Hugo walks quickly over to see the mess. You look down at the glass in shock of what you just did, your heart sinking and stomach churning. Lady Tano is the next one to walk over to you, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you to one of the arm chairs, helping you sit down. The room was deathly silent now, you could hear your pulse ringing through your ears. Ahsoka crouches before you, ruling your hand with hers and trying to comfort you from the unexpected shock. Korkies hands are balled into fists. Was he angry with you?

“No worries.” Hugo laughs, trying to be an entertainer, “Butler!” The Butler opens the door.

“Is everything alright?” He asks after bowing.

“Yes, we just made a little mess, would you be so kind as to clean it up?” Hugo walks Korkie, who seems to be just as shocked and embarrassed as you, over to another armchair. The butler snaps and then whistles and three young maids come in, each one getting on their hands and knees to pick up the pieces of glass.

“Princess?” Your mother says, “Do you have something you would like to say to the Manda’lor?” She awkwardly asks, clearly trying to make good from the situation, side-eying Bo.

Your pale face turns to look at Bo, who had that same disappointed frown that you always see on her.

“My deepest apologies, your Majesty.” You clear your throat before painfully looking over to where Korkie sat, his hand resting in his palm and expression down turned.

“Well!” Hugo takes the center of the room. “No use in sitting here in silence, mistakes happen! Right Auntie?” He says to Bo.

“Of course.” She smiles, physically accepting your apology with a reassuring nod.

“Lovely, would anyone like some music?” He asks.

“That would be lovely, Hugo.” Lady Tano says in her ethereal voice. He smiles and walks over to the baby grand piano in the corner of the room, the same baby grand that you played at for your Knight a few weeks ago.

“The Princess plays!” Your mother says, trying to alleviate any tension.

“She does?” Hugo makes direct eye contact with you. “Would you like to play a duet with me?”

“Hugo, she just-“ Ahsoka begins but is interrupted by your mother.

“Oh won’t you play for us Dear?” She asks, smiling.

“Please! I have wanted to hear you play since I was told you could.” Bo-Katan asks. It would be rude to decline a request from the Queen and the Host of the night.

You nod and stand up, that could be just the thing you need to feel better. You walk over to the piano, stopping just before Hugo.

“Bass or Soprano?” He asks, muttering so quietly that only you can hear it.

“Soprano.” You say. He pulls the bench out and sits first since he would be playing the lower part. You then sit next to him, your hands still slightly shaking.

“Do you know the ‘Dathomirian Waltz’?” He asks. You nod. “Lovely, key of D minor then, I’ll follow you.” He pulls his hands up to the keys, and you follow, taking two deep breaths, the first to calm your shaking hands, the second to conduct both of you in at the same time. Together you play a set of intricate chords, Hugo emphasizing on the bass notes, playing a complex scale that brought his left hand over his right several times. You carry the melody, playing just slightly louder than him and allowing yourself to fall into the trance of performing. Your hands finally quit shaking after a few phrases of the music, allowing it to soothe your nerves. Music has always done that for you. All of the nobles in the room smile, the Naboolian Queen sighing at the beauty of the complicated piece. You can’t keep the smile from pulling on your lips. Korkie’s cousin was very talented, much better than you. His hand brushed against yours several times and you couldn’t help yourself from thinking about the Knight when Hugo touches you.

This was something you would never get with him. You would never get to share a memorable moment with others, never get to rub hands against each other in front of three Queens, never get to look one another in the eye without shame or secrecy. The thoughts start to overcome your consciousness, causing you to play a sour note. No one seemed to notice, but you were more aware of it than you should have been.

A beautiful piece, carefully composed and rehearsed, performed with the intent to dazzle, the intent to impress. However there will always be the sour note, an incorrect chord that the audience might not hear but those giving the show will dwell on undoubtedly.

Like the Kingdom of Mandalore.

——————————————

“Rise and Shine your Highness!” A sing-songy voice calls out to you before pulling the long, draping curtains apart and letting the warm Mandalorian sun pour into the room. You groan and flip over onto your side, your body is still exhausted from yesterday evening and you would like to sleep in a little longer.

“Oh, don’t give us that.” A more brash voice groans and you recognize it as Koska’s. You can hear a number of other bodies file into the suite, maybe three or four. The handmaid's pull in the elven dress and a light breakfast. You can still smell the salt water on your forearm as you swing your hand over your eyes. You were not a morning person. Koska walks up to your bed before sitting on the edge of it, placing her tan hand on your shoulder. “We’ve let you sleep in long enough, we have to get you dressed and ready for tea with the Queens.”

“Queens?” You mumble, slurring the ‘s’ out.

“Yup, both Bo-Katan and your mother as well as the Queen of Naboo and Duchess of the Felucian mountain Kingdom are all eager to spend brunch with you in the Garden.” More guests arrived this morning while you were still sleeping, but it wasn’t until Koska explained to you about the women waiting for you that you remembered what day it was. You opened your eyes wide, flopping your arm onto the mattress beside you and looking up at her drowsily.

“The masquerade is today.” You say out of realization. She smirks and slowly nods her head. Soniee budges into your conversation, sitting on the opposite side of the bed.

“We have two dresses for you to wear today! This one,” She pulls forward a gown that isn’t quite as full and round as the dress for the ball, but is still a lovely dress with a pretty skirt and pearls embroidered into the bodice. “And of course the elf dress.” She nods to the pink and gold gown that sat on a sewing-bust, shimmering in the light. “We won’t get you into the ball gown until later tonight.” She hums.

“Now, we have to get you cleaned up, your hair is a mess.” Koska stands up and pulls the heavy down comforter from off of you. The loss of warmth elicits another sleepy groan from your lips and you stare up at the ladies in waiting frustratedly. “Up!” Koska’s serious voice commands and you’re scared enough of her that you jump up out of bed, pulling the nightgown sleeve up that has been slowly slipping down your shoulder and showing more and more skin. “That’s better.” Koska hums, “Let’s get you a bath, yeah?” She walks towards the bath room, opening the golden gilded doors and into the naturally-light room. You will always admire the beauty and effort put into the Mandalorian palace despite the internal battle with living here. You follow her into the room, still sleepy and walking slowly but eventually making it to the tub in the center of the room. The bath has already been drawn, which they must have done in your sleep (they’ve never done that before). You strip out of the cream-colored nightie and dip into the warm water. It smelled of lavender and honey and you allowed your muscles to relax into the bubbles. It was perfect, exactly what you needed to clear your racing and stressful mind. Your muscles were sore from yesterday and the warm water and flowery oils soaked them blissfully. You sigh at the sensation but before you can enjoy it anymore, Koska is dumping the warm water over your head, wetting it completely. It’s unexpected and you gasp from shock, your eyes glued shut to keep the water out of them. Damp hands come up from out of the water to wipe your eyes but then another dump of water is pouring over your head and you’re back at square one. Koska was a much harsher bather than Sonnie was.

All is forgiven however when she starts massaging your scalp, cleaning your hair. You relax back into the tub and enjoy the seawater and wind getting rinsed out. The other ladies come in, one on either side of the tub who files your nails, and Sonnie brings in a towel and silk robe. The other handmaiden works at your calloused feet with a pumice stone and you try not to let it tickle too much. It was true pampering and you loved every second of it. Usually there’s only one maiden to bathe you but five was divine. You assumed this was the treatment the Queen always received.

After you are properly cleaned, your Corellian tea is brought in and you’re left alone for as long as you like. You slowly sip on the purple shaded drink, waking up from it’s comforting properties. You sigh deeply, allowing the fragrant air to fill your lungs while you look out of the tall, narrow window in the center of the outside wall. You could not see the ocean from here, but instead the distant roofs of Keldabe. It was a beautiful summer day, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and you could hear the birds who have nested in the nooks and crannies of the towers chirping. You knew you had a long day ahead of you, and you wanted to try and enjoy it as much as you could. You never really enjoyed the social aspect of royalty, and that’s all today will be, but you’re ready to brave it head on.

An hour passes before you are finally dressed in the first gown of the day. Your hair is braided back so that it will have a desirable wave for the ball tonight. You are snuggly tied into the pearled bodice of the dress, and you run your hands up and down the beading, allowing it to tickle your soft palms.

Koska pulls open the door, and you’re expecting to see the Knight standing there stoically as always, but he isn’t. The hallway is completely empty, in fact, and you can’t ignore the dreadful feeling that overcomes your body. Where was he?

You clear your throat, and look back at Koska, who was adjusting the skirt of your gown as you walked.

“Where is he?” You ask, your voice hushed almost to a whisper but not quite. There were a million possibilities behind his absence and not a single one of them was ideal. Koska lifts up from her crouched position, smoothing the front pleats of her dress.

“What?” She asks and you sigh out of frustration, there was absolutely no way she didn’t know what you were talking about but you had to be vague because of all the ladies in waiting listening in.

“Who will be accompanying me to the garden?” You say with a forceful tone, trying to prod at a deeper meaning to the question.

Luckily, Lady Reeves picks up on it, and she looks behind you. You felt like she was avoiding eye-contact and it only made you more stressed and confused. “I’ll be escorting you, Highness.” She nodded, moving a step forward and then taking the lead down the corridor. You follow hesitantly, and wait until you are far enough down the hall from the other ladies back in your suite to speak again.

“Don’t horseshit me.” You mutter behind her. She keeps her chin up high as usual. “He’s in trouble, isn’t he.”

Koska doesn’t answer.

“Koska, you promised me he would be okay.” You try not to let the emotion show through your tone but that was a challenge. You felt guilty for some reason. If he was in trouble, it would be entirely your fault. The words shake in your throat and maybe it’s the tight corset and the fact that you are descending the stairs but you’re out of breath and it’s hot, so hot.

“He’s fine, I swear to the stars.” She whispers, saying it straight forward instead of turning back at you in an attempt to stay calm and unsuspecting to watchful eyes.

“Well then why didn’t you tell me that?” You ask, twiddling your thumbs.

“I couldn’t… there’s more to it but-“

“But what? What could be so secretive that you have to keep it from your future queen?” You say through gritted teeth and immediately after, Koska is spinning around on the staircase and looking up at you with a furrowed brow. You felt like you were being scolded by an impatient tutor despite the fact that you out-ranked her.

“You don’t even want to be the Queen.” She says in a whisper-shout, starting to sound as angry and emotional as you were just moments before.

“You’re right, I don’t-“ You bite back.

“So why are you here, then?”

You aren’t sure how to answer, the obvious answer is for Corellia. You were promised something in return for your ability to produce an heir and look like a porcelain figurine on a high shelf. But you also knew it would make your family happy, and your Kingdom. You would be making them proud by marrying so rich. You made a promise.

But now you think you’re starting to stay for an entirely different and unethical reason. Something that is inherently a trap and you know it, and yet here you are, fussing over it at every change you have.

Koska rolls her eyes and scoffs before continuing down the stairs.

“Who spit in your porridge this morning?” You reply.

“You did.” She groans in response.

“I’m sorry, but what did I ever do to you?” You ask when you complete the steps down and start down another corridor, one section of the massive palace closer to your destination.

Koska is the one not to answer this time.

It infuriates you that everyone is keeping secrets from you, your entire experience in Mandalore feels built on deception and being left-out. And now, the two people who finally seemed to be on your side aren’t with you in one way or another on such a big day. Koska is angry with you for no reason and you have no idea where your knight is.

The rest of the walk to the Gardens is silent, and before you know it, you are plopped down on an uncomfortable wicker chair in the hot sun, sipping on lukewarm lemon tea and wondering how much longer you have to suffer. Your mother and Bo were giggling about something, the rest of the court buzzing with conversation and ignoring you as always. Was it possible that you were the problem? You ask yourself this after another sip of the tea, a lemon slice bumping up against your upper lip a few times. As you think, you hold the dainty cup against your mouth, losing yourself in thought without realization. Your pretty eyes stare down at the green grass of the Garden. The grass never gets green back home.

You start subconsciously bouncing your leg as you thought to yourself. Everyone seemed to ignore expect for Korkie and your Knight— who both want to fuck you. Maybe that was the only desirable thing about you. This wasn’t the first time you felt insecure about the relationship you have developed with the Knight. He’s so quiet, so different from you. Were you falling for a trick?

Was he?

Tea must have gone by fast because just before the pearls of your dress start to burn against your arms from the heat exposure, you’re excusing yourself and wandering back inside.

“Strange girl.” One of the noble ladies says to Bo when you walk away. You don’t hear it, you can’t hear anything except for your deafening thoughts.

“Are you sure she’s the one for your nephew?” Another asks. If you had known your mother was silent for all of this in fear of losing her reputation or even the deal between Corellia and Mandalore, you would have been furious.

“Well his father was an outcast, too.” One chuckles. “I guess you Kyrze’s attract the wallflowers.” A few hummed in amused response.

“Well his father wasn’t just an outcast, he was a downright scandal-“

“My sister loved him, and that is all that matters.” Bo interrupts. The laughter quickly dies out.

“Don’t tell me you believe in love, too.” One laughs.

“You aren’t married, what could you know of love?” The same one bo interrupted says.

“I do believe in love, which is why I am not married.” The Queen reiterates. “And I don’t think she’s the right fit for my Nephew, she’s too… outspoken. He needs someone who won’t outshine him.” They chuckle again, all do but your mother, who is still meekly silent.

“Well with the engagement Ball tonight, it is far too late to back out now.” One teases, and the laughter only grows.

Bo-Katan stares in the direction you left.

You huff down the hall, your arms folded and neck sweaty from the heat. You are looking back and forth, studying the layout of the hall in search of something. You’re looking for the smallest idea of where the knight could be but you aren’t very successful.

While all the fully armored guards of the Mandalorian palace are dressed identically, you are almost certain you would be able to spot your boy in a crowd of a thousand of them. You aren’t sure why, but there is something different about him, something that sticks out from the rest. Somehow you two were connected, and it made it so he was always plaguing your mind, even when you are with your literal fiance. Even when you are far away from him and have no clue where he is for the first time in two weeks.

Separation Anxiety.

You aren’t watching where you’re going, which makes you run into a tall, lanky boy. You yelp out in apologetic surprise, looking up at the person blocking your stressed search. A blonde boy flips around to look at you and you’re half expecting to see Korkie but it isn’t.

His Cousin, Hugo, looks down at you with his same charming smirk as always.

“Princess!” He bows.

“My apologies, Hugo!” You exclaim.

“Oh please, you are perfectly fine. You looked distressed? I hope It was not something I did?”

“Of course not!” You reassure, awkwardly smiling. “Uh- may i ask what you were doing in the center of the corridor?”

He chuckles, “Admiring this art.” He nods to an expansive, framed oil painting on the wall. It was of a tall man with a long face and alarming smirk. What stuck out to you, however, was that he held in both hands the same black sword from the royal portraits upstairs by the war room.

“The art is beautiful here.” You smile.

“Yes, my Aunt Satine worked hard to make it culturally rich.”

“Did you know her?”

“Yes, I am a bit older than Korkie, and I knew her for several years before she passed.”

“Are you… second in line?”

“I am.” He says with a classic amused smirk.

“So maybe you can answer a question for me, then.” You ask as you look up at the art. “What in the world is that?” You ask in reference to the blade.

“That, my foreign Princess, is the Dark Sword of Mandalore.”

“The what?” You cluelessly ask.

“A sacred weapon that the rightful ruler possesses, it’s rather powerful.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it before.” You look up at it in awe.

“Hah, yes. It is made of pure obsidian. The white is enchanted quartz veins. It is practically invincible, an elven Mand’alor forged it when he was just a boy.”

“What? There were Mandalorians who were part elf?” You ask, your eyes peeling off of the art and onto your companion.

He looks at you almost confused, “There is much you do not know about my Kingdom?”

“No… I’m afraid not.” You shamefully admit.

“Most don’t,” He shrugs and returns to the conversation unbothered, “It’s history is rather complicated.”

The two of you were quiet for a long time. Your eyes were glued to the stern face of the man in the portrait. You wondered who he was. Hugo is the first to speak up.

“You played beautifully last night.” You doubted he didn’t notice the incorrect notes and mistakes you made several times, maybe he was just being polite by ignoring them. You turn to look at him and smile kindly.

“As did you.” You return the compliment. He looks at you, and you must have been distracted by something other than him because you weren’t aware that his eyes were darting between your eyes and your lips.

Hugo forces a kiss on you.

Just like how Korkie did a few weeks ago in the library. It’s fast because you angrily pull away just as fast as he placed it on you.

“What?” You say like an idiot, looking up at him in shock.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t feel it?” He gets defensive immediately. The worst part is that it wasn’t even that bad of a kiss, much softer than Korkies, but nowhere as tender as the kisses the Knight would lay on you in the water or behind a closed door. Your entire body seemed to seize up, and you couldn’t get any words out. Not any words that you wanted to say. You just looked up at him, vulnerable and confused. He leans down to do it again but you’re able to turn your head to the side, keeping his lips off of you.

“I am… in love with another man.” You say, clearing your throat.

“You and I both know that isn’t my cousin.”

No use denying it at this point, “yes, but I am still engaged to him. I cannot just be disloyal to the future Mand’alor.” You mutter, embarrassed but trying to keep your cool. You knew you were lying, because you weren’t staying loyal to Korkie. No, you were outright cheating on him and you were falling in love with the boy you were cheating with. You were falling in love. You were very exposed, after all. Anyone could turn the corner or look through the windows and see you. It was different this time, however. Usually hiding your kisses are exciting, but that was only with the Knight. “Please,” You voice betrays you, and the emotional shake is heard through your clenched jaw, “Excuse me.” You push passed him frustratedly, making sure to shove him over a little with your shoulder. You angrily walk back to your room, finally getting there without help for the first time.

When you turned down the Corridor to your suite, you were hoping to see the beskar-clad boy who held you last night, but he still wasn’t there. You hold back emotional tears, but not seeing the one who brings the most comfort to you makes you break. Two crystal tears roll down your cheeks.

You have been taken advantage of too many times in this forsaken castle.

You pull open the door, the golden afternoon light reflecting warmly off of the gold-leafed furniture and decorations is a stark contrast from the bleak hallway. Your bed has been made, and things have been tidied up since you were in here last. You flop onto the mattress, your arms stretched out from your sides, looking up at the sheer canopy above where you lay.

Two hours pass. You think you fell asleep but you cannot remember. If you did, no dreams were had.

Soniee opens your door with trepidation after two soft knocks, “Princess, It is time to prepare for the ball.” Her voice is so timid. You twist your head to look at her, the other ladies from this morning were behind her. Koska was not with them.

You sit up from the bed, rubbing a crook in your neck from how you were laying...

—

authors note (again): i know this isn’t the best chapter ending but ya know... IT WASNT SUPPOSED TO BE

Anyways..... see you tomorrow? i guess? haha

Taglist: @remmysbounty @snow30285 @what-iwish-you-knew @softly-sad @carbonated-beverage @frogllady @baileys-corner @song-of-sea-and-sky @leaiorganas @weirdowithnobeardo @ginger-swag-rapunzel @bewitchedbodyandsol l @mograh @justavolcano @theokatz @lowkeytesss @hallway5 @dat-girl-in-corner @news4bees @istealyof00d @songofcosplay @waffles4lif3 @mcueveryday @310ra @thatonedindjarinfan @songofseraphine @callmekane @theelilbritt @bbwithaknife @firstofficerwiggles @jedi-jesi @ironbabey @minttchipp @bel-ppa @honey-hi @cp11 @venomous-ko @bbwithaknife @lunatic-sunsets @1800-fight-me @foundtheavacados @elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey @florenceivy @theanothersherlockian @spideysimpossiblegirl @mandomistress @floraandfrost @paradoxpictures @stinky-child

“if you are included in the taglist, you are expected to interact with the post you are tagged in (ex. reblogs, comments and notes), if I notice that you are not interacting with the applicable post, you will be removed from the taglist”

—

part twelve

[bucksangel]

A Love That Lasts

a/n: this is a REPOST from my old account @losaslut​ since i’m deleting that blog i’m reposting it here

Pairing: Hank Loza x Reader (non descript reader but if i missed anything please let me know)

Inspo came from this post by @withmyteeth 💕💕

Warnings: none except for tooth rotting fluff and so much love it’ll kill you

Word Count: 2.8k

Moodboard made by me

It’s nearing two in the afternoon, you’ve been cleaning and re-cleaning for about three hours now to distract you from the fact that Hank got called to go to the clubhouse. “It’s an emergency” is all he told you. Never mind that today is your anniversary, you’re more upset because it’s Saturday, a day both you and Hank agreed that nothing would get in the way of your time together. But, you understand, you’re always understanding. If the club needs him, then he’s there. But as understanding as you are it still doesn’t take away the ache in your chest from not having your boyfriend home with you.

Hence why you’re cleaning. It acts as a good enough distraction but you’re quickly derailed from your tasks by Bishop calling you, and concern is all you feel now. With the ‘emergency’ that’s happening at the clubhouse, your thoughts are spiraling, but the one at the front of your mind is that Hank is hurt, he must be.

You’re quick to answer the phone, fingers shaking and your heart pounding. “Is Hank okay?” You ask, demand really. You’re already shoving your shoes on before Bishop even speaks.

“You should get to the clubhouse, sweetheart.” Bishop’s voice is calm, almost melancholy, and you’re pushed into even more of a worry when the call cuts out.

You can’t help the tears that pool beneath your eyes, nor the shakiness of your hands as you fumble with the keys. Nor can you help the absolute dread in your heart at the thought that Hank could be hurt. He can’t be, your brain tells you, he can’t do this to you, not today. So, you rush out of the house, shoes untied, and make the ten minute drive to the clubhouse. Those ten minutes feel like ten hours, every red light only serving to aggravate you further, but it gives you time to think. Think, really, is not the right word. Worry is more like it. You spend those ten minutes worrying yourself into a panic, preparing for the what if’s.

And when you do finally make it to the clubhouse, you barely have the car parked before you’re tripping over yourself to run up the stairs and slam open the doors, searching frantically for Hank. You don’t find him though, in fact, no one is in the clubhouse. And if you weren’t in such a rush to get to your boyfriend you’d realize that none of the guys’ bikes are out front either. Looking around the room, your confusion triples. Hanging along the walls are fairy lights, meeting in the middle of the roofing to create a canopy that surrounds the lone table in the middle of the room. The lights have been dimmed, a single candle along with two plates of what you assume is Hank’s cooking (you’d recognize the smell anywhere) and an empty vase sit on the table.

You don’t have much time to figure what this could all be about before Hank comes out from the back, stepping into the light and wearing clothes he definitely did not leave the house in. He’s in his nicest pair of jeans (the only ones without grease stains), a simple black button up with the sleeves pushed to his elbows (swoon), and most notably: he’s not wearing his kutte. Now, you’re more amused than anything. It’s clear this must have been a set up, that Hank must have faked the emergency to set all of this up. For what, you’re unsure of. You could be pissed that he lied to you, pissed that he put you through the worry, and you are, sort of. Yes you’re mad that he tricked you, but you’re more in awe over the fact that he put this together for you, like something from a fairytale.

Hank is the first to step towards you, one arm is behind his back while the other reaches out to you. He takes slow and deliberate steps, and you take only one towards him before his hand grasps yours and you’re pulled into his chest, his arm wrapping around you. During this hug you recognize two things. One being that his heart is beating at a rapid pace, it thumps in his chest where your cheek lies. Two being that, with the way your arms are wrapped around his waist, you can feel flower stems. Now, it should be said that you’re not the most intuitive, but you’re starting to suspect this has to do with something bigger than just an anniversary date.

Before you know it, Hank has placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and pulled back to really look at you. You’re starting to feel underdressed in just shorts and one of Hank’s shirts tucked into it, but with the way your man is looking at you, you can’t help but feel like the most beautiful person in the world. Your arms travel from his back to smooth over his sides and run up his chest, one hand placed behind his neck and the other one fiddling with the top two buttons of his shirt that are undone.

And you smile, you’re smiling so wide it hurts but you don’t care, all you care about is how Hank is staring at you. So much adoration pouring out of him that it makes you want to cry (but you’re using all your willpower to not, you’re going to save your tears for the end of the night). When Hank pulls the flowers from behind his back, four light pink roses (one for every year you’ve been together), you laugh. You’re not sure what else to do honestly, you’re filled with so much happiness and love for your man that it bursts out of you in a laugh that Hank swears is the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Baby-” You’re cut off by Hank kissing you, not too deep, not what some would call passionate, but a soft and slow kiss that lets you know that he’s here, he loves you and he wants you to know it. When he pulls back, your head is spinning for a different reason, spinning with love and thoughts of wanting this to last forever, until the end of time. “What’s all this about?” You breathe out, the wind almost knocked out of you while your brain tries to catch up to the situation.

Hank’s smile widens, and he lets go of you so he can walk over to the table and place the roses in the vase. Turning back to you, he extends his arm again, and once you’re close he lifts your hands up and presses a kiss to your knuckles. And once again, you’re swooning, heart so filled with something you’re sure is greater than love. “You didn’t think I would actually leave you alone on our anniversary, did you?” Hank chuckles softly, kissing your hands again before stepping to the side and pulling out a chair for you to sit in.

“How long did it take you to put this up?” You ask, looking around at the beauty that surrounds you, still in awe of it all.

“Well,” Hank chuckles again, “It was supposed to take an hour at most, but you know how the guys are with getting distracted.” Both of you laugh at this, because it’s true. You wouldn’t doubt that Angel and Coco were probably causing more of a mess than actually helping. Hank sits next to you, and takes your hand in his again. “But I will admit, this has been a few weeks of planning.”

Four years together and Hank still knows how to take your breath away, he still manages to surprise you in everything he does. But you don’t get a chance to speak before he’s pushing your plate closer to you (not his BBQ for once, but an alfredo pasta dish that you’re starting to recognize as the same dish he cooked a few weeks ago, and then again last week (probably preparing and perfecting the recipe)). So, you don’t say anything, you both dig into dinner while throwing glances at each other like teenagers going on their first date, and it’s perfect.

Dessert comes next, Hank goes to the back again and reemerges holding a pie that he definitely made himself (he’ll deny it if you tell anyone, but he does happen to be a pretty solid baker). Through dessert, you’re talking softly about anything and everything. You’re both just happy to be close and together that you don’t bother with any heavy topics. At one point, Hank makes you laugh so hard you throw your head back and snort (something that’s never happened before you met your boyfriend (because that’s how happy he makes you, so unable to control your reactions)).

And when you look up at him, ready to tell him about your adventures yesterday while visiting your mother yesterday, your voice cuts off. Hank is moving towards the bar where, how did you not notice it, a stereo rests. He’s quick to press a few buttons and a soft tune fills the air. It must be something from a symphony, with how melodic and peaceful it is. He returns to your side to pull you from your chair, and you don’t even have time to think when suddenly Hank twirls you around and pulls you into his chest. And the next thing you know, you’re being twirled all around the room, Hank’s hand covering your hand that rests on his chest and his other arm wrapped around your waist.

You’re giggling almost the entire time, both of you gazing into each other’s eyes and smiles so soft that if anyone were to see you, they’d probably be sick with how in love you two are. The songs flow into each other, and you dance for what feels like hours (realistically it’s probably been twenty minutes), no words spoken besides whispering I love you’s periodically. When the songs finally end and you’re both dizzy from the spins and the dips, you both step back from each other and again, the clubhouse is silent. It’s not an eerie kind of silence, but a pleasant one. Being with Hank has taught you that you don’t always need to talk to be able to understand what someone’s feeling. And what you’re feeling right now is an emotion so overwhelming, you do cry. You’re not sobbing, just letting out a few tears from the happiness that flows through your blood.

Hank wipes away your tears, presses a kiss to each cheek, and whisks you away to the back porch where, again, you’re caught off guard by the sheer beauty of it all. More lights are strung up on various boxes and around chairs. The fire pit is lit and the flames dance upwards, filling the space with light and warmth. It’s not until you turn around that you notice blankets and pillows piled together to create a make-shift bed. In front of the set up is the side of the clubhouse, empty. Your thoughts as to what this could be about are answered as Hank steps away from you to turn on a projector that’s sitting on top of a crate, a laptop next to it. You watch as he fiddles with the machines and when you turn back, the projector comes to life, casting light to the otherwise blank wall. When the opening credits of Little Women start playing (because let’s be real, it’s a cinematic masterpiece and the scene with Jo in the attic makes you cry every single time) you don’t bother to wait for your boyfriend while you rush to the pile of blankets (and wow does it feel like you’re on a cloud).

If you could see Hank, you’d see the nervousness plain as day etched into his face, you’d see how his hands shake ever so slightly, you’d see how he gazes at you with a love that even he can’t quite wrap his head around. But soon enough, he joins you in your own little paradise. He wraps you in his arms and lays you against his chest and kisses your head, and you know. You know that this is what heaven feels like. Laying in your man’s arms, feeling his feather-light kisses placed anywhere he can reach, feeling his love radiating off of him and getting absorbed by your mind, body, and soul.

You’re maybe halfway through the movie when Hank shifts and reaches into his pocket (trying so very hard to be stealthy so as to not alert you to what he’s doing (he does, but you don’t say anything)). When you’re both finally settled and the movie continues on, you don’t even realize Hank is fiddling with your fingers, nor do you realize the sudden cool metal that slipped onto your ring finger. It’s not until a whopping eight minutes later (Hank was counting) that he pulls your hand up to his lips and places a delicate kiss onto your knuckles. You turn in his arms, leaning your head back and using the hand that he was holding to rest on his cheek, and pull him down to meet your lips.

The kiss is soft and slow, like you’ve got all the time in the world to just sit here and relish in each other’s love. You move to deepen the kiss and then all of a sudden Hank’s pulling back, grabbing your left hand again, and placing another soft kiss to your knuckles. Only then do you realize why he’d been so focused on your hands, specifically your left one. Because on it rests the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. Small diamonds line a gold band, with a slightly larger diamond in the middle. It’s simple, and with the lights all around you it glimmers with every twist of your hand.

You’re too stunned to speak, too in love with Hank to express how your heart is ripping apart and is being replaced by everything him. You’re staring at the ring, mouth open and tears now heavily pouring down your cheeks. And when you finally get your wits about you, you scramble to turn and face Hank, straddling him and placing both hands on his face, eyes searching desperately to find any sense of humor, any sign that he’s joking.

But you don’t find any of that. You find tears gathering in his eyes as he leans you forward to press your forehead against his. His voice is soft, almost afraid to speak too loud and ruin the moment. “Amor,” He stops, taking a deep breath before speaking again, “You’re my everything, my heart and soul, you’re the courage I need to take on anything and everything. You’re…” He pauses again, and a stray tear falls out of his left eye. He pulls you back a fraction so he can stare deep into your eyes, one hand holding your waist and the other takes your hands from his face so he can kiss them once again. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. And I hope you keep happening to me for the rest of our lives. I’m pleading, make me the happiest man in the world and say you’ll marry me.”

Hank barely gets out the last word as you smash your lips to his, it’s a little messy, and you do miss his lips at first, but it’s perfect. You’re unable to sustain the kiss for long with how heavy you’re breathing, so instead, you peck his lips once, twice, and then one more time. And then you’re pulling back, and Hank will swear to the end of his days that you’re glowing, shining so bright as you stare at him, and he wants to make you feel like this always. He wants to make you so happy, he wants you to feel the love that he feels, the love that has consumed his entire being.

“Ask me,” You breathe out, lips curved up and shaking from the sob that’s threatening to burst. Hank looks confused at first, so you continue, “You have to ask me first, then I can say yes.”

Hank laughs, he tilts his head back to rest against the pillow behind him and looks up at you with the softest smile to ever grace his beautiful face. “I guess you’re right. So, will you marry me?” And this time, you laugh.

You’re giggling from the sheer happiness of it all, so much that you’re barely able to get out your answer, “Of course I will, handsome.”

The movie’s ended, but you and Hank are still lying wrapped in each other’s arms, content to spend the rest of your lives like this. And you’re hoping with everything in you that this love doesn’t fade, that you’ll be this happy and this in love when you’re both old and gray. But you also know that it won’t. The love you feel could never fade even if you wanted it to (and by the grace of god, you’ll never want to stop loving him).

And while you’re there, in your slice of heaven, you’re already planning the wedding in your head, too excited to become a Loza.

[kirishimas-manly-eyeliner]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾shifting script w/ ellie☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

hey looove! if you’re here, imma assume off the bat (back?? idk) that you’re like me and you want to escape the pain that is reality and just spend some time with your comfort characters. i’ve shifted four times (i think????) and every time oml was the time of my life, so buckle up kiddo! aight friends, we’re gonna be going over: scripting, methods, subliminals, and other tips! good luck bbys :))

- SCRIPTING -

what is scripting? - scripting is completely optional, but most people prefer to use it to keep their thoughts down! scripting is basically just a guideline as if you were making an oc. what do they look like? how do they feel? do they have any love interests?

where should i write my script? - you can type it out, draw it, write it, jot it down, make a slideshow, a moodboard with fancy points, whatever it is-- it just has to be something that makes you the most comfortable. i typed mine + made a slideshow with my dr (dream reality) scripting and pointed everything out, but it really doesn’t matter!

how long should it be? - again, this should be FUN and enjoyable! if you feel forced to do it in any way, i recommend coming back to this post later and checking it out when you’re in a better mood my love :))) most scripts can go anywhere from just 10 jots/sentences/bullet points to 10 pages. whatever it is, it’s what makes you the most comfortable!

what should i include in my (specifically bnha) script? - for bnha specifically, if you’re shifting here, please script this: i cannot feel pain, experience any trauma, and i can only feel minimum or incur very very small amounts of pain. i am fit and comfortable wherever i am.

notes: YOUR SHIFTING SCRIPT SHOULD IN FACT SOUND CRINGY. EMBRACE IT, DON’T FEEL EMBARRASSED! this is you hyping yourself off bc you should know you’re sexc as heck and you deserve all the love in the world k bby

MY BNHA SHIFTING SCRIPT 

VISUALS FOR MY DR SELF (this is 10000 percent optional, I just did this for fun! (slight bl**d/g*re warning!)

ULTRA BASIC EMPTY TEMPLATE:

Name:

Age:

Height:

Weight:

Eye color:

Hair color:

Body Type:

Voice:

Hair:

Quirk:

Backstory:

Relationships:

Personality:

Hobbies:

Dorm:

Does this follow the canon plot line?:

Here’s a list of subliminals that I use to help me! (remember: you don’t have to use the wave thingie or the weird high-pitched thing for days that it makes it hard for you to focus. you can use songs that remind you of your dr! remember, shifting is completely real, my loves!) @a-hideaway-for-hoes, cough, ily

songs to help you relax and stay calm by ambition -> has a frickin’ todoroki thumbnail and i used it to like,, relax. and stay calm. makes me think of my comfort characters for the days that are really tough <3

『 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐚 』 UA dorm ambiance/sleep aid ✩.･*:｡ -> really really helpful!! this doesn’t use the high-pitched wave thing and it just works like magic. 

SHIFTING: THE RAVEN METHOD SUBLIMINAL AUDIO | QUANTUM JUMP TO DESIRED REALITY | 432HZ MEDITATION -> listen up: this is the only frequencey hz thing that’s ever helped me successfully shift. it’s INSANE how fast it works, and don’t be afraid of the symptoms! you might get chills or feel really light-headed, but dw, that’s completely normal. 

i don’t have many, but there are definitely some songs that make me go, ah yes, i now remember that i’m sexc and that i can feel validation. here’s just some quotes from the songs. don’t mind me.

“how can you miss someone you’ve never met? ‘cause i need you now, but i don’t know you yet.” -> idk you yet by alexander 23

“i have died every day waiting for you,” -> a thousand years by christina perri

“i’ll hold you when things go wrong, i’ll be with you from dusk till dawn,” -> dusk till dawn by zayn

“If this was a dream, then at least I've got memories for when morning comes.” -> welcome to wonderland by anson seabra

THIS ONE’S A BIG BOI:

“When two worlds collide Take a deep look inside What if we were more than just parallel lines?

You can push me a mile away I will run to you always Put us oceans far apart Calm the seas to sail to you,” -> i promise you, yoolee

UHHH and i think that’s it, my loves! if you need any other links to tips, meditations, or anything, lmk bby :)) happy shifting, and good luck! 

[alicedopey]

Dreams, Dreams, Dreams

Fandom: Vikings

Pairing: Ivar x plus-size reader

Genre: Modern AU, Smut, Romance

Words: 3034

Warnings: Smut, oral (giving and receiving), self-depreciation

Summary: Working with Ivar has triggered something in your mind, especially at night.

A/N: This was supposed to be posted for @flowers-in-your-hayr​ ‘s birthday but is now my contribution to her 650 followers celebration. (Moodboard is her own creation) Enjoy !

“Mr Ragnarsson, I…”

“Ivar, call me Ivar.”

It seemed accurate, since he was balls deep inside you.

“Ivar”. You were painting. “I’m going to come.”

Your words made him thrust deeper into you. “Then come, Y/N. Come on my cock.”

His hips were snapping madly. He was close to his release as well. You could tell by the way his brows were tightly knit or his mouth was making this sexy pout you liked so much.

You raised your hips to meet his, he viciously grabbed your thigh and dived even deeper into you, touching your cervix in the most delicious way. A scream fell from your lips.

Eyes wide opened, you woke up in your bed.  Sweat was dripping down your bed. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you rolled on the side to check your alarm and your eyes widened even more when you realized you had overslept again. Fifteen minutes was not much but it was still a lack of fifteen minutes in your morning routine before going to work.

You jumped out of bed and into the shower. The hot water helped your muscles relax. Those dreams were driving you crazy.

They had begun a few weeks ago when you were assigned to work with Ivar Ragnarsson on a very important contract. Since you spoke many languages fluently, the Ragnarssons considered you as one of the most valuable employees in their firm. When Bjorn had offered you to work alongside his little brother, you were flattered. Scared, but flattered. After all, Ivar had grown quite a reputation and the last thing you wanted was to end up like his personal punching ball.

Yet, working with him had revealed itself to be quite an adventure – and not in a bad way. Ivar was witty and passionate. He was sometimes treating you like an assistant, especially in front of his brothers but he was bearable most of the time.

The real problem were those dreams that had been haunting you during your sleep for a while now. Of course, they were mostly about sex: him taking you on your bed, in his office, against the wall, in his car…

The first time it happened you had laughed, figuring it was just a fantasy. He was quite a sight, after all. Second and third times were annoying. Then, it took place once or twice a week…and it started affecting the way you were behaving at work. A mere glance his way and you instantly became an awkward mess. Ivar would mostly get irritated, which made the situation worse and he ended up looking at you as if you had grown two heads.

If only you could make them stop but the more you wished for your crazy mind to leave you alone at night, the more you dreamt about him. So much that you had to admit to yourself you were falling for your boss. A boss who, according to flawless creatures he took to his bed, would certainly not glance at you for one second. You and your curves, you and your fat….no, definitely not his type you thought as you straightened your blouse over your wide hips a few minutes later before leaving for work.

Ivar was not there yet when you arrived at the office. You almost ran to the conference room in order to get everything ready for the presentation. It had to be perfect or he would throw a fit. Every brother would start yelling at the others and you would be blamed by Ivar in the end.

“Everything ready?”

You jumped, hearing Ivar’s voice and turned your eyes towards him. He was nonchalantly leaning against the doorframe.

“Yes”, you let out in a whisper.

His eyes scanned the room to check how you had everything settled. “You did well.”

“Thanks.” You squeaked nervously.

Ivar chuckled at your reaction. A shiver rand down your spine. “Don’t be nervous, everything will be fine. We worked hard on this.”

If only he knew what you were really nervous about…

His brothers arrived shortly afterwards. Thankfully, Bjorn didn’t have the glorious idea to invite his mother to join the meeting or Ivar would have already been in a very bad mood.

They all took place around the table. You started the presentation to explain your line of work. Then, Ivar introduced the society you wanted to merge with and what the Ragnarssons’ firm could benefit from it.

As you listened to Ivar’s voice, you couldn’t help looking at his hand moving on the board. His strong firm hand…

“Sill here?”

You looked up, Ivar was eying you up and down, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you crossed your arms in front of you so that Ivar would not see too much of your curves.

“Yes. Your brother asked me to get some things ready for the big meeting with your uncle tomorrow. “

You thought he would leave after that but he kept staring at you while you stood there awkwardly.

“Need some help?”

“No, no…I’m almost done, thanks.” You stammered. Ivar never offered help to anyone.

He took a few steps towards you and took one of the files you had put on the meeting table to read it. “Looks like you worked hard. Bjorn will be glad.”

He smiled. A real smile that made your heart flutter in your chest.

He let go of the file which landed back on the table and set his eyes on you. The look he gave you made your heart flutter in your chest again. Lost in his mesmerizing eyes, you noticed he was closer when he put his hand on your hip. Your breath quickened. The heat radiating from his simple touch set your body on fire.

“I’m glad as well. Good job, Y/N.”

You did not hear the words, just watched his lips moving. Those plump tempting lips. Unable to resist the temptation to taste them, you kissed him. Ivar was not surprised. He kissed your back fiercely, his hand tightening its grip on your hip. He made you walk backwards until your thighs touched the table so you could lean on it.

You hiked up your skirt and spread your legs without even realizing it. Your body was acting on its own, all too eager to succumb to desire.

Nonetheless, Ivar did not move an inch and remained still as a statue. He was watching your body like a hawk as if he trying to remember every part of it. If only he could touch you the same way he was looking at you.

“Mr Ragnarsson, please.” You whimpered helplessly.

Ivar just smirked at you and played with the hem of your skirt. Your heart was beating so fast you had the feeling it would get out of your chest any minute now. You wanted him to put an end to your misery so desperately. He knew it and apparently loved watching you squirm, all needy and turned on.

When he finally sneaked his hand under your skirt, you bit your lip to prevent yourself from eliciting a sigh of relief.

His rough fat fingers stroked your skin until they finally reached your panties. His thumb touched your clit through the soft and soaked material. Your lower body lunched forwards, your teeth dug a little deeper in your lip.

“Oh, sweet Y/N…” Ivar whispered in a mocking tone. “Don’t damage those perfect luscious lips. That would be a shame.” He let go of his crutch, his body leaning a bit more on yours. Then, he inserted his thumb between your lips before saying. “Suck this. Pretend it’s my cock. Show me what you can do.”

Your lower lips clenched around nothing at his words. His other thumb pushed against your clit once more, eliciting a whimper to fall from your lips. You started sucking his finger greedily, pretending his cock instead as he had suggested.

“Good girl.” He praised lustfully. “I knew you could do it. Show me how well you can suck my cock.”

His motions on your sensitive nub accentuated and you took his thumb deeper in your mouth. Ivar groaned but ended up retrieving his fingers from your mouth. The two of you exchanged a lustful gaze before he attacked your lips with his mouth. His pace on your clit had become more urgent now. You pulled him against you and embraced him feverishly. Ivar kept kissing and pleasing you. Your body was completely on fire and yet, you were craving for more. So, you embraced him stronger, trying to get as much contact as possible between your two bodies.

Your lower body clenched, your breath quickened and you convulsed against him as you came. Ivar did not let go and made you ride your orgasm until you went limp in his arms. He chuckled, a deep chuckle that sent shivers running down your spine. “Ready for more?”

“If you are…” You whispered against his lips, congratulating yourself at the fact that he shivered because of it.

Emboldened, your palmed him through his trousers. Ivar groaned, pushing his cloth-covered dick into your hand. You rubbed him a few times before undoing his zipper and freeing his erected shaft. It was inviting to the touch, already glistening with pre-cum. But you did not touch him this time. Instead, you hiked up your skirt even higher to reveal your already damp panties that you led slid down your legs.

Ivar licked his lips. He was looking at your body as if he wanted to devour your body in one bite. A whimper left your lips. “Ivar, please…”

“Hmm?” He took his shaft in his hands and started pleasuring himself. “Did you want something?”

“You know what I want.”

“I want you to say it.” He rasped, still playing with himself. “Come on, Y/N. You can do it.”

You tried but no sound came out of your mouth. It was as if your brain did not want to give your body what it was craving.

“Y/N, I’m waiting.”

Once again, you opened your mouth to talk but did not produce any sound.

“Y/N, talk. Y/N ! Mrs Y/L/N !”

Ivar’s snapping voice made you startle. Several pairs of eyes were watching you; some expectant, some irritated. Well, Ivar was irritated.

You felt your cheeks heating under their stares, realizing you had been sex dreaming during a professional meeting.

“I’m sorry. I was…distracted.” Ivar’s glare intensified. He was probably going to strangle you. “You were saying?”

Bjorn explained patiently which points Ivar and you would have to work on. The meeting was adjourned after that. Ivar signaled for you to wait until everyone had left. Once they had, he closed the door and advanced towards you, each step making him grunt.

“We have some changes to do and we have to do them as fast as possible.”

He explained sharply. “Tonight. 7PM sharp. Your place. I’ll bring the wine.”

Then, he got out without waiting for an answer. You stared at his head until he had disappeared, realizing after a few minutes that your boss – who you too often dream about – was going to come to your place.

To say that you were nervous was an understatement. You left as soon as you could, went to the grocery store and started cooking dinner the moment you got back home. Once you were finished, you took a shower. Your door bell rang as you were just finishing getting dressed. You threw a last glance in the mirror to check your appearance: leggings and a flowery blouse, casual but not too much. You ran to the door and took a deep breath before opening it.

Ivar had played the casual card as well, wearing dark jeans, a white shirt and a dark jacket under his usual coat.

“Please come in, Mr. Ragnarsson.” You invited him to take off his coat. “I’m going to put this in my bedroom. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”

On your way back to the living room, you took some glasses in the kitchen. Ivar was on the couch, the bottle of wine was already cracked open, the files were out. As usual, Ivar did not lose any time so you started working right away, only taking a small break to each the chicken, pasta and salad you had cooked.

“This was nice. It’s been a while since I ate some real food. Drawbacks of being a busy businessman. Guess I need a real woman in my life.”

He smiled genuinely, which made you heart flutter for a second as you remembered your dream from this morning.

“Is there a man in your life enjoying your food?”

You shook your head. “Just cooking for myself.”

“That’s a shame, if you ask me.” He replied casually. “Any man would be damn happy with this. Don’t even cook for my brother Hvitserk or he won’t leave your side.” He smiled again.

Your cheeks heated under the praise. You had heard things about Ivar’s charming power but he rarely showed it at work – which was for the best or you would always be as red as a tomato.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

“Yes.” You barely whispered and shook your head to clear your mind.

“Are you sure? Because you have been quite distracted lately, just like this morning during the meeting when you completely zoned out.”

“I’m just…tired.” You answered, slightly surprised Ivar was expressing some concern over someone else, especially an employee.

“Troubled sleep?”

Your eyes widened a little. His seemed to twinkle with something else than casual curiosity and you wondered if his question had a deeper meaning for a second before answering.

“You could say that.”

“Hmmm.” He stood up with the help of his crutch. “Well, since we are done here, I’m going let you get some sleep. May I have my coat back, please?”

His question made you realize you might have stared at him for a bit too long.

“Of course.” You almost jumped up from the couch and the both of you headed towards your bedroom.

Once there, you bent over to reach his coat on your bed. When you stood up, your back bumped against Ivar’s chest. Embarrassed, you turned around abruptly and handed him the piece of cloth to your boss. He took it gently from your hands before glancing at your bed.

“So, this is the famous place where you have been having all those troubling dreams.”

Your eyes raised up abruptly to meet his. “There are some things you should definitely not talk about some topics at work, where anybody could hear what you are saying.”

He knew. Of course, he knew. That sexy asshole knew everything about everyone even though you had mentioned it once to one of your closest coworkers.

“One could say you are obsessed. Well, your mind is at least.”

He gave you a teasing smirk which caused your heart to make a somersault in your chest.

“Mr Ragnarsson, I don’t know…”

“Shhh…” He put one finger on your lips and you were reminded of your earlier dream again. “There is nothing to be ashamed of, believe me. Quite the contrary.”

He took your chin between his fingers. His eyes intensely stared at yours.

“Tell me in your dreams, what are we doing in that bed? Are we fucking nice and slow? Or are you making me sweat for it?”

“It depends.” You gasped at your own words.

“Is that so?” Ivar hummed against your lips. “How many dreams did you have, you naughty girl?”

“A few.” You whispered before Ivar took your lips ravenously.

His hands slid down your body to squeeze your plush bottom and push it against your pelvis. In response, you embraced his upper body and dug your nails in his back.

He had awoken a fire in you, you were not even aware you possessed. It was more powerful than in the dreams and so much better that you did not want to it stop.

Breathless, Ivar’s lips left your own to attack your own. Your head fell backwards, heavy pants left your mouth.

“Mr. Ragnarsson, I...”

“Ivar.” He cut you off. “I definitely want you to call me Ivar when you come on my dick.”

That elicited a deep moan to leave your mouth. You dug your nails deeper in his skin and Ivar groaned.

“You were having one this morning, hmm? What were you doing in that dream?” He pushed his erected cock against your core. “Tell me.”

“You were…you were eating me out in the conference room.”

“I like that.” The tip of his tongue tickled your neck. “I can easily picture myself buried between, your thick thighs. What do you say we reenact some of those dreams?”

He was now rubbing himself against you.

“Yes, please.” You whimpered. Nothing was more important now than being under him, screaming his name.

He delicately pushed you backwards until the back of your knees met the bed and you had no choice but to fall on it.

Ivar took off his clothes, you hastily did the same. The two of you exchanged a fiery look, trying to remember every inch of the other’s body. For once, you did not feel ashamed of yours. On the contrary, Ivar’s eyes on you were making you feel like the most desirable human being on earth.

Ivar let his crutch fall on the floor and his naked body finally met yours. You became away right then and now of what was going to happen, meaning sleeping with your boss.

Ivar sensed your discomfort. “Don’t worry.” He smiled. “Nothing bad will come out of this. I’m going to make all your dreams come true.”

Tagging (please tell me if you want to be added or removed): @naaladareia​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @gearhead66​ @tephi101​ @therealcalicali​ @peaceisadirtyword​ @ivarswickedqueen​ @ivaraddict​ @akamaiden​ @mblaqgi​ @captstefanbrandt​ @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ @elenarogersbarnes13

[writing-in-april]

Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde (2/?)

Part two: Caught

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: After reader’s first introduction to Spencer she can’t wait for the next meeting and tries to look for him.

Part One, Part Three

Series Masterlist

A/N: Hey guys!!! This is my final fic for my 1250 follower celebration!!! Plus this is part two to my new series 🥰 I’m like so excited for this guys I’ve got so much planned for this one!! Thanks again to @spencers-dria who came up with the way I started out this story 😘 and @andiebeaword who gave me the prompt that spiraled into a series!!! Let me know how y’all like this series so far 🥰 also I will be mass accepting the rest of the requests for my 30 fics in 30 days tomorrow so be warned for a bunch for posts lol and I’ll be making a Masterlist for this series as well- maybe with a cute moodboard?? Thanks for reading guys!!!

Warnings: 18+, Speculation on how dark Spencer can be, mentions of kidnapping, Dom Spencer, Public sex (of course), Fingering, Use of the nickname Doctor, Slight size kink, Muffling, Spencer gives Reader a nickname at the end (I won’t spoil it 😉)

Main Masterlist Word Count: 3.6k

Ever since the last meeting you had been itching to lay your eyes on Dr. Reid. Even though you could have waited until next month when there’s another book meeting happening, with a new theme, your impatience was not having it.

The library that housed the book club and apparently now any of your interactions with the mystery man had never been frequented as much by you- until now.

Everyday after work now you stopped by to try and find him. You did other stuff there for sure, making your way through a full fantasy series while you kept your eyes peeled for his fluffy hair. Sometimes you did walk through the shelves that were stacked high with every book you thought imaginable just to maybe get a peak at him, or maybe speak to him if you were lucky.

You felt like you were both dancing around each other, never touching or even getting close enough to speak. But, a little look of his curls, a spot of his mesmerizing eyes, or a glimpse of his cardigan assured you that he was there.

You were sure he had to have seen you just as you had seen him at some point. Maybe he only wanted to see you during your book club or maybe he was done with you after that one time in the empty room.

Seeing him without half of his face covered seemed to make the shroud of mystery surrounding him get pulled back further. That however didn’t change the fact that you barely knew the man that danced between the shelves. You had called him by his earned prefix more than his real name and even then it was only his last name with the earned prefix attached that had slipped between your lips.

It was not like you did not know his first name, you had heard his full name with his title attached when he had first introduced himself to you, albeit behind that mask of mystery. And, even with his physical mask removed even with one look it would be obvious to anyone that there was an invisible mask still covering most of him.

There was this strange pull towards him that you could not explain. You felt like Christine being entranced by the phantom, his twisted face or in this case his soul behind the mask not shocking me away. You still hoped I was not dealt with a man that was as demented as Christine’s phantom. You could take a damaged man, not a kidnapper along with whatever other things the phantom of the opera had done to Christine. With one look at his face he hooked you in, perhaps unintentionally. But, if it was intentional and his bad didn’t squash the good in the end you didn’t mind at all.

Your feelings teetered on a precarious edge, you’d willingly take the plunge off if he’d just give you a peak at what was underneath. It all hinged on whether or not he’d let you take a look. He’d given you a taste of his Dr. Jekyll plus a little of his Mr. Hyde, but it left you nowhere in determining who Spencer was underneath.

Spencer- that was the first time you had even thought of his first name by itself without a prefix attached. You wondered how good it would sound if you let it stop dancing on the edge of your lips and let it slip out.

The ghost of his name danced on your lips precariously at the edge just like you were, so close to being whispered out. Only the pages of old books would hear you, there was no harm in saying his name. It was only a name after all.

Even though it was just a name made up of two syllables it was stuck on your tongue like it was one of the hardest words to pronounce. Your lips did finally speak in the softest whisper when you finally managed to stomp out your hesitation, “Spencer-“

“You called?” A gasp left you, way too loud to be appropriate in the library, but then again you had already bucked many of this library’s rules. You whipped around to face the voice that you recognized instantly as you had been closing your eyes tight every night trying to remember his voice and picture what he had done to you.

Seeing him without the mask up close, not through quick glances when you caught his fugue from afar was somehow more intriguing to you than when he wore the mask two weeks ago. When you did not come up with a response for at least a minute, he cut through the somewhat awkward silence, “What book are you looking for?”

“I don’t know.” That was an honest answer from you, you had other motives for hiding between these shelves.

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline clearly spotting your skittish behavior. You thought you were a good liar too, you wondered how it was so easy for him to read you. It made you feel vulnerable considering you couldn’t get a read on anything about him, besides the basics. Maybe you were just a bad liar and he was a master at it. “So you were just browsing? In the nonfiction section- specifically in the ancient and medieval philosophy section?”

His questions flustered you even more. It was like he knew that you had spotted him once in this very spot speeding through a stack of books a mile high while sitting cross legged on the floor. You would admit you stood there in awe for a moment to admire the way his fingers slipped down the page to track what sentence that he was on at an inhuman pace. You had been too shy to approach him that day, even though it was a perfect opportunity to do so, mostly because you were intimidated by how fast he seemed to be reading. Though later you thought maybe he had just been skimming to find what interested him, you wish you were brave enough to ask. That was why you had been loitering in the last spot you had your last chance to speak with him. It was possible he had already spotted you from your staring. Your voice shook a little as denied, having no suitable white lie to say, “No…”

“Not interested in philosophy then, no Plato for you??” He knew you were here before, watching him, his tone made it obvious.You shook your head from side to side slowly with your breath held tightly in his chest. He looked away from you for a moment to glaze over the spines of the books ordered by the Dewey Decimal System, maybe looking for something that sparked his own interest. It was only a small moment that his gaze wasn’t fixated at you, but you still felt like whining at him to get his attention back onto you. Luckily, you did not have to make such a sound as his pupils fixated back onto yours before he spoke again, “I thought so, you seem more like a fiction lover.”

“You’d be correct.” You confirmed, still barely breathing.

Your breathing wavered when he moved a little closer, if you hadn’t been paying such close attention to every minute moment he made, you might have missed it. The warmth of him was closer than it had been since the last time he had touched you, the desire for him was urging you to pull him in to touch him. Last time he had initiated every touch. his hands were closest to you, with nimble fingers that could work you over the edge skillfully and you knew that from experience. His head cocked to the side with eyebrows in question pulling you away from your daydream about pulling him in with your touch. He cleared his throat, then questioned you, his voice dropping down a bit, “So, if you weren’t looking for a specific book and you weren’t just browsing for a new one- what are you doing here in this section?”

“N-nothing…” A stutter still escaped you despite your best efforts.

It seemed like he was circling you like a hawk over head, though you wanted to be caught up in his claws. A little yelp of surprise escaped you when he suddenly grabbed your wrist rather tightly and yanked you forward towards him. You stumbled slightly into his chest, but you were quickly stabilized by him pushing you back into the shelves.

You were getting whiplashed again from his transition from delicate to sharp when he carefully put both wrists into one hand, then pinning them above your head. Your jaw was dropped down in shock and you almost stammered out another reply when he hit the nail on the head as to what your intentions were, “Were you looking for me?” At first you gave no response, but he pulled one out of you by sharply commanding you, “Answer me!”

“Yes!”

His lips were on you in a familiar fashion, harsh, almost enough to where your lips might bruise a little. When he bit your lip rather hard, you thought that there was definitely a chance that the bruise would form or at least it would be swollen. You loved it though, letting him guide the kiss to make it as rough as he wanted. When he separated his lips from you, you went to open your mouth to protest, but was cut off by a harsh shush from him that would make the librarian proud.

Each of the shelves you were pressed into pinched painfully, not that you cared all that much. You were more focused on the man who was now unbuttoning the front of the jeans you wore. On the inside you were cursing yourself for not wearing a skirt so he could’ve had easier access, it’s not like he could have stripped you down out of them- even if you wanted him to.

You’d both have to settle with your pants being pulled down to the tops of your thighs, he did leave the panties pulled up though, for the moment at least.

His other hand still held your wrists firmly while he started to tease by rubbing slow circles to your clit through your panties. When you tried to buck your hips into his hand you were punished by putting one of his thighs between your own and pushing what felt like his full weight onto you. There was no way you could move underneath him, even if you tried squirming he had you pinned to the too firmly shelves like a piece of art hanging on the walls.

All you could do was try to beg for what you wanted, “Please, pull them down.”

“But, I like seeing you in them.” He looked down at you with his eyes that looked like black pools because of the mood lighting in the library. You whimpered again, but cut you off by saying. “If you want me to oblige you, maybe you should ask me nicely and use the name you know you’re supposed to use.”

You knew exactly what title he was referring to, it had been ingrained in your mind after the last time. Part of you wanted to use a similar comeback of last time and call him Mister instead, or maybe even dare speak his first name again. On the other hand, your legs were shaking from being just simply teased a little. You had been looking forward to having him touch you like this again, and if you did not comply there was a chance his punishment for you would be taking away all touch.

“Please- Doctor, please pull them down.” Your volume was undoubtedly much too loud for the normally dead silent library. You were confident that you would not be caught just like last time, this was a scarcely traveled area, plus the librarian was farthest away from here. There had been another motive for picking this area to try to spot the morally gray doctor.

Instead of pulling your panties down, he ripped them off of you. The tearing of the seam echoed off the shelves along with your gasp. Even if you had really liked the pair, it was too hot to really be angry for him ripping them apart. And- when he stuffed them in his pocket a sharp spike of arousal ripples through your core. You could even still see the wet spot you had created on them despite the rip before he had shoved them into his pocket.

When his hand returned to your core you mewled desperately. He returned his nimble fingers to rubbing circles into your clit, this time a little bit faster than before and with a bit more pressure. You had to bite down onto your lip when he started alternating the circles with pinching your clit, knowing that the sharp cries that wanted to escape would be too loud for the librarian to miss, despite being far away from her.

“Do you want my fingers inside you?” He asked gruffly- as if I’d refuse having his long fingers crooked inside me, dragging across my g spot.

You didn’t need him to prompt you to say “Yes, please Doctor!” You were becoming easy for him to bend to his will, just to get another taste of his touch on your body. Maybe next time, if there was one like you hoped, perhaps if you were not so desperate for him to bring you to your peak, you’d smart off to him again. After all, from what little that you had experienced as a punishment from him like last time, you knew you’d enjoy it.

The smirk on his face told you that he was pleased with your eager submission to him. He pushed your head to the side slightly with his own to suck a hickey at the underside of your ear then nibbling slightly up the shell of it, “Good girl.”

Your eyes rolled back farther than you thought possible when he spoke, plus the added sensation of him plunging his fingers into your dripping hole added to that as well. The thrusts of his fingers were slower than you expected, as if he did not care that time may be of the essence, that anybody could walk by soon. Curling them upwards on one swift motion helped him easily find that perfect spot inside you which made your body try to squirm underneath his grip again. As you squirmed you could feel his hard bulge pressing into you making your mouth water and you drip down your thighs even more. Despite wanting to grind into it more he reaffirmed his grip and started to plunge his fingers into you faster. Your eyes shut tight at the onslaught of pleasure.

“No- look at me while I’m doing this to you.” Wrenching your eyes open with effort you followed his command, locking his eyes with yours. His eyes entranced you, you could almost feel the dark hooks pulling you in impossibly closer. Those hooks were pushing you towards the edge of your orgasm as well.

“Can I cum pleassse-“ You gasped almost too late as you were having trouble staving off your release, you didn’t know if you could handle him holding it off at all, “Doctor?!”

“Come on, cum for me- only for me, you’ve been really good for me.” A man being possessive towards you would normally have your orgasm fall away quickly- but when he said it your orgasm snapped through you on command. Your hands fell limp at your sides as he released his steel grip on them to clasp his hand around your mouth to quiet the noise that you tried, and failed, to stifle.

He had you still almost fully pinned down as you rode the waves of your orgasm out. You gripped the shelves with your free hands tightly, trying to hold onto something. You’d touch him, but there was the unspoken rule to not touch him without permission hanging in the air.

He let you come up for air once you had finished by removing his hand from your mouth, along with the one from your pants. He also tried to move you off of his thigh so you could stand, but your shaky legs would not allow you to do so, still weak from the force of your orgasm.

He only pulled away from you when a small thud was heard that judging by the source of the sound, was somewhat close to where you both were. He helped you button your pants back up, it felt kind of weird to wear them without your panties. The reminder of him stuffing them into his pockets still outweighed the discomfort.

Your whole being was probably much more disheveled than he was, there was only a slight cock to the right with his tie, that he quickly fixed. He then leaned, capturing you in a kiss that was much softer than any others he had given you. It did not feel like a goodbye kiss, more like see you soon.

“Until next time, Shelley.” His words that were whispered like a ghost on your lips, it was the quietest thing he had said throughout today’s dalliance. He almost seemed afraid. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the nickname, knowing it came from the time that you first had encountered him. It made him seem even closer to you than you had thought, him giving you the nickname made you feel somewhat claimed by him. Hopefully this was not all in your head.

“Until next time- Spencer.” You hesitated a little before saying his given name. You already had a nickname for him, one that seemed less intimate than the one he gave to you. Calling him by his first name seemed like a way that you could express similar thoughts without spilling all your guts to him.

Once the butterflies had faded a little you realized that he had not let you reciprocate any pleasure. You wanted to chase him back down through the library, get down on your knees and take his cock into your mouth until you swallowed his cum. There must have been a reason though, why he did not let you reciprocate. You hoped he was just busy and that at the next meeting in two weeks time, he’d let you take him into your mouth.

You yearned to touch him rather than to have him touch you. The thought of running your hands through his hair slowly enough to appreciate every wave and curl sent butterflies a flight in your stomach. Would he ever let you get that close? Close enough to study every curve of him in earnest instead of being pinned against something in a way where you could only appreciate a part of him. However much you felt desire being stoked whenever he took control over you, pinned you like he did, the butterflies in your stomach at the thought of exploring him with your own hands was too much to ignore. You just wanted to explore every inch of him with no semblance of time, no rush to be somewhere else, just to examine every part good or bad.

You’d have to tiptoe close, dance around him like he did with you until he let you see truly what both sides of him were behind the mask.

You still hardly knew the man before you, the one that was retreating away from you, sadly. Today had felt like your first glimpse into something more, mostly his good side. Dr. Jekyll was the one that you had seen the most of, but you could deny your desire to see every part of him, that thought had not wavered. There was that dark part of him that remainder hidden under the mask, if he showed it to you would you know him? Or would it just deepen the mystery of which is his dominant side- Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde? And even though you were undoubtedly curious to see every facet of what made the morally gray doctor you could help but fear whether or not you’d like everything that you’d see.

Part One , Part Three| Series Masterlist

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

Dr. Jekyll or Mr.Hyde: @rainsong01

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

Dom!Spencer: @rainsong01

[satashiiwrites]

Andromeda 5-0

For @mreyder-week Day 3: Partners in Crime. Yes I could not think of a better title (I’m open to suggestions though!). Yes it is very very heavily influenced by H50. Am I still obsessed with the Idea? Yes. Yes I am.

Not quite ready for posting the first chapter this morning, so here’s the title/moodboard and a snippet.

Title: Andromeda 5-0

Fandom: Mass Effect Andromeda (borrowing from H50/inspired by)

Pairing: MReyder, Sara/Vetra (background), past Reyes/Zia, Zia/Brecka

Tags: Alternative universe, Cop!Reyes, NavySeal!Scott, Dad!Reyes

From chapter 1: Standoff—cut for length

Today had gone to hell in a hand basket incredibly quick despite starting out with spending a few minutes with his son who was the light of his life. Keema was still sidelined from her injuries from their last case together three months ago and the lieutenant had given up on assigning Reyes temporary partners after he’d gone through three of them. He’d mostly been working on his own when he wasn’t attached to another unit to work as a UC. He’d taken a meeting with organized crime and the proposal they’d had for him would make his career if it wasn’t for the fact that it also made something go cold in his bones.

It was a risky assignment they’d offered him. Risky but someone needed to do it.

He was thinking about it—that’s what he’d told Kandros despite running the test this morning which had gone off perfectly.

They wanted someone like him—someone latino who could walk the walk and talk the talk. Reyes was known for being a chameleon when it was called for but if he screwed up on this assignment the chances of him ending up dead were pretty high.

On the other hand… Zia hadn’t let him see Mateo in three weeks other than for brief rides to school twice a week when the live in nanny she’d hired had the morning off for college classes. He’d had no time with his son. Just ten minutes twice a week.

Yesterday she’d threatened to cut him off entirely citing his inability to pay the hefty child support she was demanding from him when she was all but married to her currently much richer beau. She didn’t even need money from him—it was just a way of pushing him away from their son.

Reyes was working class—blue collar through and through. Brecka was inherited old money, Russian, and hadn’t yet made the mistake of marrying Zia even if he’d moved her halfway across the country and installed her in a mansion that was forever out of someone like Reyes’ price range.

The comparisons between himself and Brecka made Reyes very aware of his own shortcomings—financially as well as socially. The things Brecka could give his son were things that Reyes never would be capable of in a million years. Tennis lessons. A trilingual nanny who didn’t speak Spanish but did speak Mandarin, Russian and English. Why would his son learn anything about his own heritage that his mother was determined to replace with her new lover’s better one?

He was a cop, son of a firefighter. Public servant that had graduated college just not a fancy Ivy League one like Brecka. He was street smart, having to live by his wits out in the world every day. Reyes didn’t rub elbows with the same rich people that Brecka did—he wasn’t a member of the Fortune 500. He preferred home cooking to fine dining or diner food to caviar. He’d married Zia because she’d gotten pregnant and thought—foolishly—that love would grow with their family.

They’d had fun together until it suddenly became a lot less fun and more work.

Relationships were work as his abuela told him. He’d been willing to work for it.

Zia… hadn’t. She’d filed for divorce when Mateo was three and they’d spent the next year arguing through lawyers until she’d gotten a judge that had taken one look at Reyes’ dark tan skin and had instantly sided with his wife.

She’d cleaned him out almost entirely. House and half his pension gone as well as most of his savings that wasn’t set aside for Mateo’s college fund. He’d been living on his Abuela’s couch eating peanut butter and ramen noodles for months until he’d managed to scrap enough together to get a one bedroom apartment and apply for visitation rights as she’d been awarded full custody too.

Reyes had been raised to do the right thing when you got the girl pregnant so he’d done the responsible thing and gotten the true love of his life out of it even if the divorce had felt like it tore him apart. Mateo was the reason for him to get up in the morning. His son was the cutest kid ever. Smart and always happy with a smile on his face that made him look like Reyes’ much happier mini-me. Reyes tried to shelter him from the arguments Zia picked with him every time they were together more than two minutes but the way Mateo clung to him at every school drop off told him he wasn’t hiding anything from his little boy.

His son didn’t deserve the problems Reyes had with his mother. He bit his tongue to not bad mouth Zia in front of him and just focused on the little scraps of time they had together.

Reyes regretted nothing that had given him Mateo and he’d fight for him with his last breath. Zia could try again and again to cut him out of his son’s life but he’d sooner die than let her. He’d moved halfway across the country away from all his family to be here for Mateo and he’d do it again if he had to.

[aro-and-tired]

Aromantic Experiences in Fandom: Survey Results

PART 1 - PART 2 - ANALYSIS: TIME IN FANDOM - ANALYSIS: AROALLOS VS AROACES

As this is the second part of the discussion regarding results of this survey, I suggest checking out Part 1 before this.

This post will discuss how aromantic content creators in fandom feel when it comes to creating aro-specific content, and how aromantic fans feel when it comes to shipping and their preferences for it. There will also be a space for additional comments.

Content Creators Questions

The first question here was a check asking respondents whether or not they ever created fancontent, such as fanfiction, fanart, etc. 76.5% (701) of the respondents stated that they have created fancontent, while 23.5% (215) stated they haven’t. Non-creators skipped the rest of this section.

Question 1: Which kind of content do you create in fandom? 

Starting with the options I had given, from most to least picked we have:

Fanfiction - 71.3%

Fanart - 58.8%

Memes - 44.4%

Meta - 22.3%

Playlists - 16.3%

Fanvids - 7.3%

Merch - 1.9%

Furthermore, many people mentioned other kinds of content they create. This includes headcanons, edits, moodboards, roleplay, cosplay, podfic. translations, fan music and ask blogs.

Question 2: Have you ever made content focusing on aromantic headcanons, or other kinds of aromantic content?

Yes, in addition to other kinds of content - 57.2%

No - 41.5%

Yes, I only make aro content - 1.3%

Question 3: If you have created aro content, would you say it got more or less attention than your non aro content?

52.6% of respondents declined to answer or stated that it wasn’t applicable. Excluding these respondents, the results were

It got less attention - 68.1%

It got the same amount of attention - 29.5%

It got more attention - 2.4%

Question 4: Have you ever felt discouraged by your fandom when it comes to making aro content?

Yes, because I didn’t think it would get attention - 42.6%

Yes, because I was afraid to get hate for it - 35.7%

No - 39.2%

Question 5: Have you ever received hate because of the aro content you made?

40.7% of respondents answered saying they have never created aro content. Excluding these respondents, the results were

No - 81.5%

Yes - 18.5%

Shipping Questions

The first question was a check that asked whether or not the respondents were at all into shipping. 88% (806) said they enjoy shipping, while 11.2% (103) said that they are not. 0.8% (7) said that they are not into shipping, and not involved in fandom. Respondents who picked the last option skipped the following section, and were taken to the end of the survey.

Shippers

Question 1: How important is shipping to you when it comes to being in fandom?

Shipping is my primary form of engaging with fandom - 7.1%

Shipping is fairly important to me, but I’m also into other sides of the fandom - 22.5%

Shipping is about as important to me as other sides of the fandom - 38.8%

Shipping is not particularly important to me, I prefer other sides of the fandom - 29.7%

Shipping is the least important part of engaging with fandom - 2%

Question 2: Do you consider non-romantic shipping (shipping characters as queerplatonic partners, friends with benefits, etc.) to be a valid form of shipping, or do you think shipping only refers to romantic situations?

I think shipping can be both romantic and non-romantic - 71.2%

I think some types of non-romantic situations can count as shipping, but not all of them - 21.7%

I think shipping only refers to romantic situations - 7.1%

Question 3: When it comes to your ships, do you prefer content that focuses more on the romantic or sexual aspect of the relationship?

I prefer content focusing on the romantic aspect, I dislike sexual content - 33.1%

I prefer content focusing on the romantic aspect, but I also enjoy sexual content - 23.2%

It makes no difference / I like both equally - 31.9%

I prefer content focusing on the sexual aspect, but I also enjoy romantic content - 9.4%

I prefer content focusing on the sexual aspect, I dislike romantic content - 2.4%

Question 4: Would you say fans place too much importance on romantic shipping, leaving too little space for other kinds of discussions?

Yes - 84.7%

Unsure - 10.7%

No - 4.6%

Question 5: Here I will give you a list of tropes commonly found in shipping fan content. I ask that you pick 5 that you consider your favorites. You can pick less than 5 if there aren't enough tropes that you like, but please try not to pick more.

As a disclaimer, this question is not meant to judge whether or not someone is a “valid” aromantic or anything of the sort. It also does not necessarily indicate that liking the more popular tropes picked is an aro thing, especially since some of these are also popular in fandom spaces at large. It is only meant to highlight general trends in the community.

The five most popular tropes picked were:

Mutual Pining - 46.8%

Domestic Fluff - 46.5%

Slow Burn - 44.8%

Enemies to Lovers - 40.6%

Friends to Lovers - 38.2%

All of those tropes were picked by more than 300 people. Following these, the only trope picked by more than 200 people was Established Relationship.

Tropes picked by more than 100 people were, in order of popularity, Soulmate AU, PWP, Fake Dating, Getting Together, Porn with Feelings, and with the same popularity Friends with Benefits and Telepathic Bonds.

Tropes picked by less than 100 people were, in order of popularity, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, Hanahaki Disease, Arranged Marriage, Hate Sex, Friends with Benefits to Lovers, Jealousy/Possessiveness, First Dates, Break Ups, and least popular Love at First Sight.

Question 6: Here I give you the same list of tropes, but this time I ask that you pick the 5 tropes you dislike the most. Again, you can pick less than 5, but please try not to pick more

The same disclaimers as the previous question apply.

The five most disliked tropes were

Jealousy/Possessiveness - 52.9%

Unhealthy Relationships - 48%

Hanahaki Disease - 42.9%

Love at First Sight - 42.4%

Hate Sex - 40.6%

All of these tropes were picked by more than 300 people. Following these, tropes picked by more than 200 people were Soulmate AUs, Break Ups, Arranged Marriage, PWP and Unrequited Love.

Tropes picked by more than 100 people were Fake Dating and Porn with Feelings.

Tropes picked by less than 100 people were Friends with Benefits to Lovers, Telepathic Bonds, Domestic Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friends with Benefits, Enemies to Lovers, Established Relationships, First Dates, Slow Burn, and least disliked with the same amount of votes Getting Together and Mutual Pining.

Once again, there is no judgement on anyone who hates popular tropes or loves hated tropes. The aromantic community is not a monolith, there is great variety between us, and no aromantic people is made up only of their aromanticism. There can be all sorts of reasons why one would like or dislike a trope.

That being said, some considerations can be made from these trends. For example, various aros have said that since romantic attraction is confusing we don’t quite get how can someone fall in love with people they barely know, or why is falling in love with a friend considered strange and not the norm. Many of the popular tropes involve characters who have known each other for a long time (Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn) while things such as Love at First Sight or First Dates are less popular.

We can also look at tropes various aros find arophobic. Hanahaki Disease is often mentioned as making many aros deeply uncomfortable, and we can see that here few people have it as a favorite, and many pick it as one of their most disliked tropes. Another one that is often mentioned in those discussions is Soulmate AU, that people are more ambivalent about - it’s both the sixth most disliked and seventh most liked. Maybe because it has much more variation than Hanahaki Disease, or maybe because people find it less arophobic as a whole. Or maybe simply due to personal tastes.

Non-Shippers

Question 1: Is the reason you don't enjoy shipping connected to the fact that you are aromantic?

Yes - 87.4%

No - 12.6%

Question 2: Would you say fans place too much importance on romantic shipping, leaving too little space for other kinds of discussions?

Yes - 97.1%

Unsure - 1.9% (2 people)

No - 1% (1 people)

Question 3: Do you think you would be more into shipping if people more often shipped characters in a non-romantic way, such as writing about queerplatonic relationships?

Yes - 82.5%

No - 17.5%

Additional Comments

People were allowed to leave additional comments here about anything that wasn’t covered previously.

Many people remarked on the general amatonormativity that is present in fandom spaces, in particular how it often seems as if fandoms are not interested in character dynamics that don’t involve romance. Some people also talked about often aro headcanons overlap with gay/lesbian headcanons because of the similar traits that can count as coding for both identities, and this can cause conflict within fandom. Overall, many people felt that aromantics are often a subcommunity within the larger fandom communities.

Some people also stated that they feel smaller fandoms are more open to aromantic interpretations than bigger ones. Various people mentioned fandoms that they felt were more or less friendly, often saying that small fandoms with few people tend to be more welcoming to aro fans.

There was also some discussion regarding the concept of non-romantic shipping. While many people agree that they enjoy viewing their ships as, for example, queerplatonic relationships, some also feel that using shipping terminology is inadequate for them. Shipping is by default assumed to be romantic by most people, and some don’t like having to using that word or words derived from it for non-romantic situations.

Part 2 Summary

Many aromantic content creators have felt discouraged by fandom when it comes to making aromantic content, either because they are afraid of not gaining any attention for it or because they fear receiving hate for it.The first concern seems quite valid, as a majority of people who did create aro content found that it got less attention compared to their non-aro content. When it comes to receiving hate instead, less than a fifth was a victim of it. This being said, there’s also a good number of aros who don’t overall feel discouraged when it comes to creating said content.

Out of the aros who enjoy shipping, most of them consider it neither the most nor least important part of their fandom experience, usually also enjoying other ways of engaging with fandom. Most prefer romantic content over sexual content, or enjoy both equally, with a minority favoring sexual content over romantic content. The majority also feels that fandom spaces can be too dominated by shipping.

An even higher percentage of aros who do not enjoy shipping find it too prevalent. A good number of them believe that they do not like shipping because they are aromantic, with many also saying that they would be more favorable to shipping if there was more space for non-romantic shipping.

Thank you for having paid attention so far! You can contact me if you have any questions. As I said in Part 1, I am also working on a couple more posts to look for potential differences in the opinions of a few groups, I will publish them in upcoming days.

[maraudersftw]

I have a weird question, but do you ever feel like someone is really, REALLY your friend and that you adore them even though you don't know anything about them except for the fact that they're unflinchingly kind?! I have this reader who /ALWAYS/ leaves such wonderful comments and even though all I know nothing I feel like "HEY THAT'S MY FRIEND RIGHT THERE!!" whenever they comment ahaha. I want to know if it's just me or if there are others out there

Um, this is not at all a weird question, and I adore it so much, because YES, ABSOLUTELY! I have a bunch of usernames that I love seeing in my inbox whenever I publish a chapter/fic, and these readers have spoiled me so much that I wait for their comments with bated breath each time.

And since I feel like I don't take the time to appreciate my loyal and unflinchingly kind readers nearly as much as I should, I'm going to go ahead and tag (some of) them here to remind them how much they brighten up my days with their words.

I'm going to start with @all-things-jily of course, because she's got to rank #1 reviewer in the fandom without fail. I await her comments with so much excitement, it's actually insane. But even beyond that, Nina is such a wonderful person and the greatest friend, and I'm so lucky to be able to talk to her openly and honestly about anything on my mind.

@the-dream-team is the love of my life, and I'm always prepared to either be swept up in emotions or laugh my heart out whenever I see her comments in my inbox. And again, even beyond being a fabulous reader, Dylan is just sunshine personified, super talented, and the sweetest friend 💖

@liz-lunane is another person whose comments I can never get enough of. She unfailingly bookmarks every single one of my fics (yes, I've noticed, Liz) and her enthusiasm just makes me giddy to the point of nausea (in a good way hahaha)

@moonzelle leaves the sweetest comments ever! They're always so thought-through and detailed, and the best part is that she lists down her feelings from the chapter, which is honestly the most wonderful thing ever!

@shaniso90 If there's a reader who fits the "unflinchingly kind" descriptor to a T, it'd be her! She says the most flattering things, not just about my stories, but my writing in general. And then she always tacks on "I know I've said this a lot of times, and I'm repeating myself..." which is the funniest thing, because I could reread her comments a million times and it wouldn't be enough

@blitheringmcgonagall has been the most supportive person in the fandom ever since I've joined Tumblr, and it's insane to me how she works the busiest job, writes all this incredible stuff, comments on as many fics as she can, and still manages to be the sweetest person in the world ❤❤ truly the best

@keepingupwithpotters is basically one of the coolest people I know, and I've been in awe of her wit and humour ever since the first time she commented on one of my fics. Every time I see a comment from her in my inbox--I kid you not--anticipation flutters through me because I know this one's going to be good XD

@my-kindred-spirit is SO sweet and adorable, I don't even have the words for it. She always writes her comments with a bunch of emojis and caps to emphasize her enthusiasm, and there's nothing better than that, honestly!

@imgoodwhataboutyou never fails to bring a smile to my face with their comments! It's always filled with such wonderful reactions to the scenes in the fic and the best keysmashes hahaha I'm truly blessed to have such a reader!

@raissassampaio is the kind of reader one dreams about! She not only leaves you comments on the fics she loves, but also goes out of her way to make gorgeous moodboard edits for those fics! Like, talk about being spoiled!

@shehatedhimnahshedidnt kills me with her comments each time! If you ever go to one of my fics and take a look at the kind of lovely things she says, you'll understand exactly what I mean. Plus, I love her immensely 💕

And so, so, SO many other readers who I cherish and love and am unbelievably grateful for. Tumblr tagging cannot possibly express my gratitude to everyone, and it'd take me years to list every reader who's made me happy with their comments over the years. If I've not mentioned you here but you've left comments on my fics before, I want you to know with absolute certainty that I know you and I've re-read your comments a minimum of three times, and I love you with my whole heart. I'm just incapable of holding all that adoration in one post for everyone. Thank you!

[with-love-anu]

Some tips to start a fandom blog (for writers)

Okay, before I begin I will like to say that I am no expert or am 100% sure these are bound to work. But these are some things I learnt over time that might help you out! 

1. Tagging posts.

This one is one of the most important points! You must tag everything properly for your content to actually reach as many people as possible. 

Do your research! Search up common/popular tags people use for the content you want to post and use them wisely. 

Use no more than 20 tags because tumblr will not show them up. When you post something, make a quick search of any of the tags you used and go to the recent section to see whether your post actually showed up. If not, try posting again.  

For new blogs- don’t start posting as soon as you make a blog. Your posts will not show up. Instead, reblog some content (gifs / moodboards / fanfiction etc) for a week or two along with tags! 

Tags I use for my fanfiction**:   #character full name   #character first name   #character full name fanfiction   #character full name x reader   #character full name x you   #character full name x y/n   #character first name x reader   #character first name x you   #fandom name   #side character full names (excluding oc)

**I’m currently writing for HP, Marvel etc. 

2. Taglists.

Now this is a tricky topic because there’s never a straight answer to this. I’ll just list down the some things I’ve learnt about taglists.

A long taglist does not equate to more number of notes. While taglists help your readers to be notified about your content, I know for a fact that it doesn’t mean everyone mentioned will interact with the post. Some might do, some might just leave a like while some might not read at all. 

Taglists work only when the people you tag, read and reblog and are actually active. Otherwise not so much. 

Tagging will take at least 10-15 minutes, copy pasting a taglist doesn’t work. You have to click on each individual user so tumblr tags them. While tumblr has updated by adding the filtering activity option, there is still a good chance that the person might not get the notification at all. 

Is there an alternative? Well, what I’ve done is that I’ve made a side blog. Whenever I post some new content- I reblog it over there. If people have the notifications on for that blog, they get notified whenever I post. It technically works the same way as taglists. 

Another thing you can do is submit the link to your post to @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts to be promoted to a large number of readers. PSA: Only for HP fandom.

3. Posting time.

Yes, this is important. Search up the time tumblr or the specific fandom is most active. Post during that time or a little later, so that people could see your works on their dashes. 

Schedule your timezone reblogs strategically. 

4. Interact.

Interact with your mutuals, with other writers. Comment and reblog their works and talk to them. Don’t be afraid to seek help or ask something if they welcome that- you are always free to send me asks. It’s better when people know you because that way it’s more likely that they’ll read and see your work. 

I am not telling you that anyone is bound to reblog your work because you do the same or the fact that they are your friends. I’m trying to say that sometimes a little support goes a long way. I wouldn’t be here if my mutuals didn’t help me out in the beginning.

5. Post format.

Okay so what I’ve found while searching and reading up fanfiction is that I personally was more likely to read a fanfiction with a summary and mentioned word count. 

Use a keep reading option or tag it with #long post. If your fanfiction is more than 1K words and/or contains nsfw/smut content- use that, it’s monotonous to see a wall of text on your dash. It’s the three dot box on a new line  adjacent to the insert gif in case you’re using the website. If you’re using the app, type :readmore: on a new line and press enter.

Use warnings. It is essential- mention it if there are none. 

6. Miscellaneous.

Participate in challenges. Enter in different challenges while making new content because one, it will give you exposure and two it will be great way to promote your work. 

If you’re starting a completely new blog, it’s better to have content made up in advance. Because firstly you need time so that tumblr recognizes that you’re not a bot so you’ll have to reblog posts for a week or two with appropriate tags. Then posting content consistently does give you a boost because more content (maybe at a gap of 3 days) means more followers, more people who read your works. 

When to make masterlists? People are usually quicker to follow when they see a masterlist made so it’s an advantage to make one when you’ve posted about 3-4 works. But if you make a masterlist later- after posting about 10-15 works, it will give you a boost in the activity because new users will be able to see your works and binge. The choice is upto you.

There are users who would say that it’s good to take as many requests as possible because it helps you grow. While it is true to some extend, I don’t find it to be useful. Because when I first begun, taking in all types of requests burnt me out and lowered my motivation because there were scenarios I didn’t relate with at all but still wrote them. The quality of my content decreased too. Again, it’s up to you.

I used to write headcanons during writing blocks. Headcanons are usually easier to deal with and not to mention the fact that they are fun. That way I could provide for more content and still not stress out.

Most of all, take it easy. It’s not your job- you are not supposed to create content every time. You, your health and happiness comes first. People will adore and love you even if you stop posting for months straight. Have fun, okay?