#go fuck yourself you're not welcome in my fandom space

[thenarator]

i cannot tell you how disheartening it is to post a fanfic or fanfic chapter and the first five comments are a bunch of entitled bullshit requesting you change things, give spoilers or talk about characters that aren't part of the story and aren't in the tags.

[swordsandholly]

Steel Magnolia

Part 1 - paused

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!plus size!reader

No use of y/n

Rating: Mature/MDNI

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Note: I just recently got back into fandom spaces and reading fanfic again and looooove the uptick in fat Y/N characters. Ofc as a big girl myself I wanted to try my hand at writing one too.

Hopefully I’ll post this on AO3 soon. Whenever I get my invite so I can make an acc.

“Oh! Darlin’, did ya see those boys next door?” Mrs. Duprey gasps as you swipe the last of her Bubble Bath OPI polish across her fingers.

“Next door?” You cock an eyebrow. “No one’s been next door since Adam and Eve.”

“I saw them on the way in!” She grins, the corners of her eyes wrinkling pleasantly. “Strappin’ young men - y’should talk t’ ‘em.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m sure I will sooner or later, ma’am.”

“You’ve been single too long.” The nosey old bat contributes. As much as you love her she truly cannot leave well enough alone.

“And I’m perfectly content as such.” You give her your warmest smile.

The trailer home across from you has remained empty for as long as you can remember. It’s well kept - sometimes you see random gardeners mowing or going in an out with tool bags - but no one lives there permanently. You’d think in a beach town it would at least belong to some snowbirds. A timeshare, maybe. It’s none of those things, though. Just a well-maintained, perfectly empty husk.

There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, probably.

Sure enough, as you walk Mrs. Duprey out of your little single wide trailer, you spot a black SUV parked out front of the neighboring double wide. One that is definitely *not* a repair man or worker’s vehicle. She coos at you to make sure to talk to them before waddling off to her own car. She really shouldn’t be driving at her age. You wonder briefly - futilly- if she’d sell you her car in exchange for rides.

You suppose she’s right - even if it is for the wrong reasons. You’re not particularly interested in flirting with the new neighbors. After all, don’t fuck where you eat is a saying for a reason, but it wouldn’t exactly be neighborly to not introduce yourself. Especially with all the people coming and going from your home for your nail tech services. The old Yankee’s catty-cornered from you still believe that you're a drug dealer. At least they only come down for a couple months of the year.

Despite your staunch decision not to flirt, you still find yourself adjusting your clothes. Maybe the sports bra as a top is a bit much…

Fuck it. If they live here now they’ll see you in worse.

You fix your lipstick and throw on your platform sandals. The ones that clip-clop as you walk. Maybe it will help announce your presence.

The screen door wraps quietly as you knock. You take two steps back on the front, wooden porch so as not to come off too aggressively. As the seconds tick by you debate on knocking again. Maybe they’re out. Or busy. They did just move in today, most likely. Maybe you should-

The door creaks slightly as it opens. A very, painfully handsome man pushes the screen door until it clicks in place. “Afternoon, lassie.”

You blink stupidly as he crosses his strong arms and leans on the doorframe. His eyes are a striking shade of blue - somehow both sharp and soft. His dark hair is shaped into a slightly grown-out, un-styled mohawk. It fits him oddly enough.

“I, uh,” you take a deep breath. Christ you need to get laid if just *looking* at a hot guy has you this off kilter. “I live across the way. Just wanted t’ say welcome t’ tha neighborhood.”

That lopsided smile on his face grows into a grin. You don’t miss the way his eyes catch on your chest. “Aye? Nice tae meet ye. Names John MacTavish. M’friends call me Johnny.”

He gives your hand an extra little squeeze after shaking it. That accent might as well have you on the floor. You continue to blink dumbly, watching the at the scar on his chin stretches as he speaks.

Christ almighty, you’re pathetic.

“Nice to meet’ya.” You give him a warm smile, tilting your head to the side slightly. “Ya’ll here for vacation? We don’t get many Europeans ‘round here.”

He chuckles. It’s low and rumbling and would probably feel wonderful with your ear pressed to his chest. “Little bit o’ business, little bit o’ pleasure. This an’ tha’.”

“Hello, there.” Another man pops up from behind Johnny suddenly. Fucking hell, he’s gorgeous too. Older, for sure, with a uniquely cut beard that would probably look rather silly on anyone less handsome. At it stands, he manages to make it appear dignified.

“Ah, jus’ about tae call fer ye, Cap. This is our neighbor.” Johnny gestures toward you.

“John Price.” The man steps forward to shake your hand. It’s firm and professional and thank god your grandad made you practice a good handshake as a kid or you’d be painfully embarrassed.

“Are all UK men named John or is this just some sorta cult?” You blurt, unable to stop yourself from snickering at them.

Older John chuckles at you fondly, his facial hair giving him a pleasant U-shaped smile. “Be easier to remember that way, wouldn’t it? No, we’re with two others. Kyle and Simon. They’re out at the moment.”

“Kyle and Simon.” You repeat, nodding. Johnny, John, Kyle, Simon. “Are y’all in town long?”

“Indefinitely.” Is all Price gives you. It’s a tone that even someone as dense as you can recognize as ‘don’t ask more.’

You clap your hands together and smile a little wider, ready to make your exit. “Well, I’m not here t’be a bother, just wanted t’ welcome ya and, uh, let y’know that I have a lot of people over throughout the day - I’m a nail tech. They shouldn’t bother ya but y’know.”

“Ye can come bother us anytime, bonnie.” The Scot hits you with that grin again and your face suddenly feels far too hot.

A loud, whining screech sounds off from down the road. You check your watch. Holy shit, three-thirty already. You begin to back off the porch. “Ah, nice t’ meet ya again! See ya ’round!”

As you jog down the little dirt road of the trailer park another black car passes you. It’s smaller, a sedan. You make very brief eye contact with a blonde wearing a surgical mask and another man with the sharpest golden eyes you’ve ever seen - even through the tint of the window.

*Kyle and Simon,* you think.

You make a mental note to greet them at some point and continue down the street. The school bus slowly stops at the entrance and you take up your spot in the small crowd of parents. IT’s a shabby old bus - chipping paint and break pads that sounds like they’re about ready to snap. It’s all they’re willing to send out to your little section of the city, though.

Shelby meanders over in your direction, her usual Camel Crush lit up in one hand and the other teasing her already well-lifted hair. “Afternoon. Saw there was some new folks across from ya.”

“Hm?” You keep your eyes on the bus. “Ah, yeah. Just vacationers, I think.”

“Lookers, though.” She chuckles.

“They’re from the UK.” You offer.

“No shit!” Shelby stamps out her cigarette as the bus doors open. “Accent and all?”

“Yep.” You grin.

Shelby tsks and fiddles with her hair again. “I best go over an’ make myself known, then.”

“There’s an older fella with a neat beard. Think you’d like ‘em.” You snicker.

She hums. “I’ll bring a pie.”

The children practically burst out of the bus doors, as always. Ready to be home and shuck off their backpacks to their respective adult. Shelby’s son almost knocks her over, offering a little “Good afternoon, ma’am!” to you before heading off with his mother.

You nod to him, shoving a hand in your pocket as you wait for yours. She’s always the last. Always caught up in a book or something and doesn’t realize it’s time to get off of the bus. Sure enough, the driver has to call back to her before the little girl comes dashing out. She jumps off of the bus steps, despite being told time and time again not to, and kicks a rock on her way toward you.

You bow low for her. “Welcome home, Lady Sophie.”

She giggles, dark curls bouncing as she skips over. “Ni-ni!”

You take her bag from her. The thing really does dwarf the poor six year old. Her hand slips into yours easily. Soft and round and somehow always so much warmer than yours.

“My nail color chipped!” She announces, holding up her ring finger on the opposite hand.

“Oh! Now we can’t have that. I’ll fix it tonight.” You smile, waving at old Mr.Chester as the two of you pass.

“Well now!” He calls. “How blessed am I to see two such lovely ladies!”

You both giggle, continuing on your way. He’s a good landlord - spotted you more than a few times when Sophie was a baby and you couldn’t work consistently. Honestly, as you look around, the little community that he’s managed to build in this shitty corner of the world should be praised. Housing just enough snowbirds to cover his property costs while keeping rent low for the full time locals. Maybe you could convince Natalie at the paper to run a little story on it or something.

As you pull up to your own home, the blonde man is outside leaning on the front of their double wide. Seeing him standing at full height makes your blood run cold. The man is built like a damn barn - tall and wide. Beyond solid. *Brick shithouse*. It’s a bit weird that he’s covered in clothing head to toe but whatever. Weirder things have happened before. The mask still covers his face, you wonder if he had taken it off before you came up or just flipped it up to smoke.

“Sophie, head on in. I’ll catch up.” You push her toward the door. She scampers in, the screen door slamming behind her as you march up to the brick shithouse of a man in front of you.

“Which are ya? Kyle or Simon?” You smile, holding out your hand to shake.

Dark eyes rake over you, stopping briefly on your hand, before moving back to meet yours. He stomps out the half smoked cigarette. “Simon.”

You let your hand drop. Bit rude, this one. “Nice t meetcha.”

The other man pops his head out of the trailer. Kyle, you assume. “Oh. Hello.”

“Hi.” You smile as warmly as you can, giving your name. “I’m assumin’ yer Kyle.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I’m guessing you’re the neighbor Price mentioned.”

You nod, about to speak again but Simon shoves past you, marching his way up the steps. “Let’s go.” He grunts, pushing the other man back into the trailer despite his protests.

You wrinkle your nose at him. What an asshole.

“Who’s tha’?” Sophie asks over the back of the old, worn couch as you let the trailer door slam behind you.

“New neighbors.” You say simply, glancing out the window. “Don’t go over there without me, yeah?”

“Okay!” She agrees, sitting back on the couch and bouncing, beginning her usual post school chant. “Bluey! Bluey! Bluey!”

You drop her backpack down beside the small coffee table. “After yer homework.”

“Nooo!” She pouts.

“Then no Bluey.”

Sophie pouts harder but crawls down in front of the coffee table and pulls out her little work sheets. At least the school doesn’t over run them too terribly with homework toward the end of the year. You glance at the calendar. Wednesday, May 22nd. Damn, she really only has about a week left. Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to this summer break with her. She’s old enough now that you can take her places like the arcade without having to wait on her so much. You’ll actually be able to play some of the two-player games.

Plus, this year, you actually have a little more pocket change to make it fun.

You turn to look out the window once more at the new neighbors. Their curtains remain closed, cars neatly parked out front. The door opens slowly, the hot Scot and rude blonde wander to the Sedan. Simon’s shoulders shake at something Johnny said - you think he’s laughing but its hard to tell with that mask. Johnny’s head turns, blue eyes meeting yours through the shitty glass windows of your trailer. You squeak and duck to sit next to Sophie, praying that he didn’t catch you staring.

[stranger-rants]

Genuinely, what is going on with this fandom? I've not been as active as I'd like to be, because this year I've been incredibly busy with work. I would love to spend more time enjoying this space with my peers, especially the fanworks you all spend a great deal of time and energy doing with minimal compensation. I feel guilty at times that I'm not able to do that.

With that said, every time I come back for a little bit it's as if someone has completely lost the plot as to why we're here. We are here to support those who are constantly beat down by the narratives that are supposed to entertain us. We are supposed to be the ones subverting those narratives and helping other people see that people are complicated.

I get that we all can be a bit messy, too. I know that we're not all perfect - but continually, I find out that there are people here more concerned with clout chasing or associating one's self with "the right people" rather than getting to know and understand that PEOPLE make up this fandom with their own thoughts and feelings.

It is not acceptable to enter into these spaces with prejudices against any marginalized person. It is not acceptable to coerce people into saying or doing something for you, especially berating them in the process. It's not acceptable to make people out to be bullies for simply disagreeing with you. It is not acceptable to create a toxic environment.

TERFs aren't welcome. Anyone dedicated to the systematic oppression of any one of our peers isn't welcome here. These are hard rules. We cannot. We cannot. We cannot tolerate intolerance. This is just common sense. As soon as you align yourself with these kinds of people, we all lose. Stop giving them space in this fandom.

I think people must get confused because we try our best to understand why people say and do what they do, but we shouldn't let our empathy make us vulnerable to fundamentally changing who we are to benefit bigots. If you are a bigot and/or you're only here to make yourself look more powerful and important then I have two words for you:

Fuck off.

[gardenerian]

new to this amazing fandom and imposter syndrome is raging thru me. any advice on how to take the plunge and create? or do you think all the well known creators here are already established?

what makes a fic great and a 'classic? regular updates? being active on socials? i posted once and was basically ignored so im scared now and in my head.

sorry for all the questions

× imposter anon

hey there 💓 welcome to the fandom! this is a brilliant, silly, LOVING place, and i am so glad you're here! i'm sorry you're feeling a bit unsure, ty for coming to chat with me 🫂✨

first, i'll say that NO, i don't think there's a cap on creators here. what i love about this fandom is that it's constantly growing and evolving - almost like it's breathing? there are new people who have just binged the show, fans who are reconnecting, and goobers like me who will never let go 😇 no matter what, we are here to gobble up words and art and thoughts and FRIENDSHIP!

honestly, i think the trick for me was connecting. i joined shameless tumblr in 2019 and screamed into the absolute VOID before i started interacting with others. once i started reaching out and talking with others, it was easier for me to share my writing or find the encouragement to start making gifs. there is a BIG focus on community here, and i find that people are so eager and generous with their energy. we WANT to cheer you on and champion your work! we WANT to beta and read and give advice/tips/love.

so i would say not to be shy (easier said than done, i know!), and to share your beautiful self! a lot of users have tracked tags, which is a good way to share and connect. i track #gardenermel (sometimes i am bad at looking, but i'll always get there!), and i'd love to see what you've been up to. and there are many others who love to see creations this way! if you feel comfortable, you can reach out via asks and strike up conversations! all of my friendships here started this way.

there are plenty of ways to get started! fandom events are especially useful for trying things out. depending on what you'd like to create, you could check out @galladrabbles @gallacrafts @gallavichmeta @shamelesscreatorsnetwork @gallavichprompts... there's a yearly @spicygallavichcollab and all kinds of events hosted by @gallavichthings. honestly, the list goes on! these are excellent resources for sharing creations, and a great way to meet members of the fandom.

there's also a host of discord groups associated with some of these initiatives! check out the blogs for links. plus, the big ol' gallabitches server (18+). you'll find a lot of us there, and it's a lovely space to chat about your creations (and everything else!).

as for fic classics, i think that depends on who you ask! there are certainly some fandom staples, but what's great about this space is the WIDE range of interests and ideas. people have put these guys in every single situation, and we continue to be fucking psyched about it. as long as ian, mickey, and the whole damn gang feel true to themselves, i am (generally) fucking here for it. i don't post regularly AT ALL, but i still find that people are so lovely when i do. there's no race to be won here, fandom is about ENJOYING yourself. so i say: please keep trying! drop me a link! i don't catch everything and i WANT to see what yall are doing!

i hope this helps, even in some small way. i know coming into a new fandom can seem daunting, but we're all here for the love of it, and it's so fantastic to keep sharing it! 🍅

anyone else have thoughts? i love you!

[hayatoseyepatch]

You are literally so fucking amazing, Sam! I’m proud of you for not only reaching 500 followers, but also for being the spectacular, sweet, funny and kind person you are ❤️ I know you put in so much time and care into your writing and that’s evident in the quality you put out bb!

Pronouns: She/Her

Personality: I’m a relatively bubbly person! I love to make others laugh and enjoy laughing myself. I’m supportive of those I love and have been told I have the personality of a Kindergarten teacher from friends because I’m always pumping people up 🥲 I’m a cross between an introvert and an extrovert but lean more extrovert as I can strike up a conversation with anyone and don’t mind being personable/putting myself out there (I just NEED time to recharge my battery). I’m super sensitive to my emotions and the emotions of others around me; I feel best when those I love feel their best and will go through great lengths to make sure they have a smile on their face. If we’re being honest, I’m a chronic people pleaser (working on it!).

Hobbies: Horror Movies, Rock/Metal Concerts, Naps, Good Food, Finding the Joy in Things

Fandoms: Wind Breaker + Demon Slayer

Fave Tropes: “X Fell Hard, But Y Fell Harder” “Stuck in a Confined Space With Each Other” “All-Consuming Love 🤡🤡” Is the last one a trope? I’m saying that it is haha

What’s My Type: I feel like my type has changed so much especially since I’ve experienced so many new life events? But I think it all comes down to: strong personality, hero/justice oriented type, loud, strong (strength-wise). Looks matter to me in characters, sure, but the characters that have stuck with me are the characters with the loudest ideals, personalities and mouths (does this sound like me, Sam? It’s so hard to analyze yourself, you know?) Idk maybe conviction is sexy to me????

Favorites: looooool you know who my faves are but I never get tired of sharing: Haruka Sakura, Kyojuro Rengoku, Obanai Iguro. But I will NOT be upset if you don’t pair me with anyone from this list in fact I welcome whatever feels most right to YOU in matching, Sam 🫶

ICKS: God, yes. Fuck Akaza with my ENTIRE chest. Like I will CRY! I don’t mind anyone else otherwise.

Love you bb! You are KILLING it!

-Eevees-Hobbies

Here we are back on the Eevee makes Sam cry chronicles, thank you so much for your kind words I literally adore you more than anything. Funny thing, I was literally scrolling and did you know you were like my second-ever mutual when I made this blog back in June? I literally lucked out so hard fr and now you’re stuck with me for the rest of your days, funny how that works. Okay, I’m rambling, ilysm bb, onto your match up. You're a mutual who asked for two so that’s what you shall get baby!!

First I match you up with KYOJURO RENGOKU from Demon Slayer!

⤜♡→ Okay you knew this was coming, I knew this was coming, we all knew this was coming. I can't be here holding a match-up event and not pay tribute to my favorite married couple. You guys are SOULMATES in my eyes, and Rengoku’s too. If you looked up devotion in an encyclopedia there you both are.

⤜♡→ Rengoku had fallen for you from the first moment he saw you smile, from the instance that your melodic laughter met his ears for the very first time. He swore in that moment he would dedicate his life to keeping that smile on your face and your laughter in the air.

⤜♡→ Lets be honest here Rengoku is a gorgeous man, however, what made you fall for him was his conviction. He has such a noble heart and is always willing to help out anyone in need. His heart had its way of calling out to yours and I think you were both hopeless from the start.

⤜♡→ If you are also a demon slayer, I believe it took a while for you both to get together, the nature of the profession puts your lives in danger at every turn. He definitely confessed while you both were on a mission. The two of you were forced to hide from a demon the both of you aiming to gather intel and well making out in a closet kind of just took precedence, oops.

The both of you laid in the grass, breaths coming in uneven as dawn finally broke over the horizon. The fight you had both been engaged in was long and arduous, dark red staining your uniforms, but luckily nothing life-threatening. But the fear of losing you sets a jolt of panic through Rengoku’s heart. Despite the both of you fighting side by side countless times this was the first time he feared for your lives. He was quiet, collecting your form delicately into his strong arms. His face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, taking it in as if it was his lifeline. The realization that this could have been the last time he held you like this, he lets it consume his senses. His heart raced in his chest holding you in a vice-like grip as his vision blurred, he didn’t know what he would ever do if he lost you, and the idea alone had him making up his mind in that instant.

He pulled from you, only enough so he could look into your eyes, the same eyes he found himself lost in every day, the same eyes he wanted to look into with love and adoration for the rest of his life. His hands moved to cup your cheeks, pulling you in to capture your lips with his own. He poured ever last ounce of love he could possibly fit into the embrace. When he finally brought himself to pull from the kiss his eyes were lit with a fiery conviction, the words falling from his mouth as if it were as easy as breathing. As if every word he had ever said never meant as much to him as the ones he was about to speak. “Marry me.”

He sees the shock light on your features from the sudden nature of his words, but they were anything but spontaneous. He had thought countess times about marrying you, having a life with you, starting a family. He takes your hands in his eyes burning into your own. “I love you more than anything in this life. I could have lost you tonight, I cannot live another moment without you as my wife. I will love you until the moment I draw my last breath, I will find you in every lifetime to make you mine again. Please, my love, give me the pleasure of being your husband. Let me spend the rest of my days by your side.” When he was looking at you like that with his words setting your heart ablaze, how could you possibly say no?

Second up I match you with ME just kidding I guess or whtever.. but no its HAYATO SUO from Wind Breaker!

⤜♡→ Okay, hoe, before you come at me with your pitchfork and say I’m just trying to start with you on my Suo bs again HEAR ME OUT! I really do think you two are more compatible than you think you are. As someone who likes to think she knows you just a wee bit from being up your ass everyday, I have an informed opinion.

⤜♡→ I think Suos care is often overlooked for the whole "mischievous cocky asshole” vibe, but he's so much more than that. We’re talking about the same man who took Nirei under his wing to teach him how to fight so he wouldn’t get hurt. The same man who protects him at every turn even if it leaves himself open. The man who went taint first kick to Endo for talking bad about Sakura. He is willing to do whatever it takes to protect those he cares about and would watch the world burn to keep you safe.

⤜♡→ CEO of shit-talking. I just imagine you both curled up in bed with one another, his fingers running up and down the column of your spine as he snorts at the way you were making fun of Tsugeura’s hair. The both of you constantly whispering to each other under your breaths while out and about not even trying to hide when you were talking about someone.

⤜♡→ I feel like you both get into so much mischief. Suo is more than aware of Sakura’s little crush on you and he is more than happy to tease him at every corner. Kissing you in front of him, pulling you into his lap, whispering the nastiest shit in your ear (conveniently forgetting he was in earshot). But he was a very generous man, he repays Sakura for all the teasing by letting him take a taste of you whenever he wants. Just because he’s such a good friend, yk?

⤜♡→ Come on babe, you're gonna look at me and say the sex isn’t on a whole other level? This man CRAVES you constantly. He will treat you like the most precious gem imaginable in the streets and take you home and fuck you like a whore. Aftercare is god tier though.

Suo hums, adjusting the water in the bath for the both of you, just how you like it. Adding in some Epsom salt to soothe your aching muscles from the strain put on them by such an intense session. Once the bath was drawn, he returns to the bedroom, eyes soft as he sees you lying against the sheets. Cupping your cheek as he presses a sweet kiss to your lips. “Come on my love let’s get you a nice warm bath to get you all cleaned up, then we can just lay in bed for the rest of the evening, how does that sound, hm?”

He collects you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom, gently settling you both into the warm water. Careful not to let the water slosh around and get the floor wet. He pulls you against his chest arms settling around your midsection, holding you to him. His eyes closing in contentment as he enjoys the skin-to-skin contact he is receiving. Resting his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and enjoying this moment with you. “You did so good for me, my sweet baby, now let me take care of you, yeah?” He was always so gentle after, hands soothing over your sore muscles, gently washing you in the bath. Kisses pressed to every inch of your skin as he worships your body. Confessions of love and adoration murmured into your skin.

Once you were thoroughly cleaned and feeling the depths of his affection he would drain the tub, not letting you lift a finger as he dried you off. Rubbing lotion into your skin in a comforting gesture before getting you dressed in your night clothes. After getting ready for bed himself he climbs into the mattress next to you, collecting you into his arms once more. He smiles softly as you snuggle into him, pressing his lips against your forehead as he watches your eyes droop. "Good night my love, you've most certainly earned your rest." Suo may be an actual demon when fucking you, but he would never allow you to question that you are his world. He never thought he was capable of loving someone like this, and he would do everything in his power to keep you by his side.

[ultrastupid]

I guess I finally decide to go off.

Normally I wouldn't ever use a bunch of easy-to-find tags. Normally I wouldn't ever flat out say this because I personally don't like using labels these days.

But you know the fuck what?

Fuck it.

I'm just gonna say it so that it's out there, so that people who don't know whenever they come to my blog can be reassured, or get the hell out:

This blog is a proship safe space.

In fact, it's a safe space for many things, that might all be the same or very similar, but some people prefer the distinction!

This blog is the following, put under a read-more so that it doesn't stretch up everything:

This blog is a proship safe space.

This blog is an anti anti safe space.

This blog is a comship safe space.

This blog is a profic safe space.

This blog is an anti harassment safe space.

This blog is an ex anti safe space.

This blog is a closeted proshipper safe space.

This blog is a safe space for those who are proship but don't want to use the label, for any reason (safety, not wanting to label yourself, etc).

This blog is a safe space for those who are neutral but don't support antis and their cause.

This blog is a safe space for fandom olds who have no idea what the hell all this "proship" and "anti" stuff is and just want to enjoy fandom like you used to.

This blog is a safe space for young fandom members who feel disconnected with people their age due to everyone else being an anti when you're not one.

This blog is a safe space for proshippers who have no problematic ships or like any problematic tropes or dead dove, but still support people's right to consume that content.

This blog is a safe space for LGBT proshippers who have had so-called progressives sling the same homophobic/transphobic bullshit that conservatives, right-wingers, and bible thumpers sling at them.

This blog is a safe space for "problematics" who are proud dead dove lovers with the most vile fucked up ships out there.

This blog is a safe space for all of the above, and anyone who made the unfortunate mistake of thinking otherwise can get the fuck out.

I don't owe you an explanation, as I'm tired of spouting off why "proship is just another word for pedophile/person who supports -insert something abusive- IRL" is an anti psyop that has been pushed violently.

For any proshipper (or other label that has been mentioned here) who read this, you are safe and welcome on my blog.

[mariamariquinha]

Poker Games (Mike Duarte x f!reader) - Part 2

Summary: The story repeats itself.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: I still didn’t watch a single episode of Law & Order, so again, let’s pretend I did. A lot of bad words, unprotected p in v sex, smut, kinda of rough sex, slight mention of drug dealing and gangs. I guess. If there’s anything more, again, pretend you didn’t see.

Author’s Note: This story is proof that my word when it comes to Maurice Compte's characters isn't good for shit. I owe it all to the gifs of @thoroughlymodernminutia and @mysoulisasunflower, he looked way too good to not do something about it. 

Always safe to remind that Meaghan was the one who helped me, answering my questions about the show and the character. I hope I did a good job with your help, honey! 

Safe to remind that I don’t write for Law & Order fandom. Think of it as an outbreak.

ARE YOU A MINOR? CHOO! CHOO! THERE’S NOTHING FOR YOU HERE.

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

“Since when do you wear glasses?”

“Since I started needing to use them.”

“... Rude.”

“If this is a turn-off for you, don't worry. I can still see what I need without them.”

Mike didn't look at you, nor did he make any mention of it, but you saw the smirk on his face as he looked at whatever paperwork was on his desk. You, standing there in the doorway without an invitation to enter, made yourself welcome into his office space and closed the door behind you, holding a file behind your back as you paced back and forth, entertained by the lack of personal decoration there.

He flipped a page, then another. The place, all in all, was silent for a long time. It started to bother you after five minutes.

“Mike,” You said, standing in front of him.

“Mm?”

“Can you give me two minutes?”

“I can,” Eyes still on the pages. “But you can ask nicely, like the polite girl you are.”

“What do you mean?”

He pointed with a pen at the door, finally eyeing you from above his lenses. Are he-What a fucking bitch.

“You’re unbearable,” Your mumble didn't go unnoticed as you headed for the door, which gave you time to hear the 'you're not a walk in the park either' before stepping out into the hallway and standing in front of the closed door, face to face with 'Cap . Duarte' written on the glass.

You knocked twice.

“Who is it?”

“Are you serious?”

“Come in,” You knew he was smiling, being the fucking brat he was, and you even said ‘excuse me’ before entering again, this time closing the door with a touch of anger. “Good morning, Lieutenant.”

“Captain.”

“You seem bothered. What happened?” Mike pressed with a tease, this time well prepared to receive you with fucking attention.

“Not a fan of role play.”

“No?” Again, looking at you from above his lenses. “You’re really boring.”

“And you're turning my two minutes into half an hour,” You gestured the file in front of him, crossing your arms right after. “This is the guy you asked for. Background, parentage, everything.”

“I didn't know that you were the one who arrested him.”

“Surprised that I did my job?”

“I’ve never doubted you would be good at what you do,” Mike said. “But I’m surprised that you didn’t complain.”

“You made a point of giving me other reasons to complain.”

“Like my couch.”

After what happened, nobody brought it up. It was understood, between his attempt to put his pants back on and you finishing your beer, that it was just an isolated event, that besides not happening again, it would be reserved for the two of you. It worked. He was still him, you were still you - honestly, there wasn’t a single chance of you forgetting that he was still him.

Despite the subjective comments there, the lighter work dynamics here, the 'peace' treaty between you felt, as it should, a convenience, whether it was what you had talked about at that dinner or the consummation of a natural will between two single and, modesty aside, attractive adults.

But he was still him, always leading you to a lot of eye rolls, which was exactly what you did at the moment.

“I wouldn't complain if it was good,” Was your defensive answer, and he measured you from head to toe again before going back to his papers.

“I may need to speak to this suspect in the near future, gather more information,” Yeah, officially back to the professional Duarte. This time though, he let the comment hang in the air - when you didn’t answer, his eyes followed yours again. “Which can include your eventual participation.”

The change of demeanor put a big and ugly frown in your face, one that didn’t go away with his intense gaze. Instead of feeling the necessity of hiding it, though, you showed with all of your ‘intimacy’ that you noticed.

“It's fine with me.”

“So we are good, Lieutenant."

Your mouth opened, then closed - it wasn’t worth your worries. Duarte was probably using the small idle time to tease you in some way about what had happened, that seemed to make sense. He was still him. Being very pessimistic and realistic with yourself, he wouldn't even include you in that investigation.

And if you walked out of his office with the same static frown on your face, it was because of the abrupt way in which the matter was dropped.

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

It had been a busy day - a particularly tiring two weeks, in fact.

First, Christmas. It has always been one of the toughest times at the precinct and this year was no different. In the midst of it all, you just found out that the FBI took over a case you’ve been working on for months. Months. The investigation, the late nights, the fucking bureaucracy… Everything was lost. Your captain's pat on the shoulder didn't make up for one percent of how frustrating that feeling was.

And it got worse because of something really stupid.

All you had to do was have lunch too quickly, with too little time, for a nice sauce stain to settle on your shirt and you had to take the path of shame to the locker room where, at least, you had a spare blouse to wear. You went the whole way trying to clean up the damage with a useless napkin, muttering little curses, and when you got to the front of the locker, you saw that nobody was there. Of course not. Besides everything, you always had lunch at odd hours, trying to do the best work ever.

The idea of privacy appealed to you, so you abandoned your napkin in the trash with a sharp toss of the can and abruptly pulled your shirt over your head. Maybe it was your mind fuming with stress, because you didn't hear when someone called your name, or when the door closed and footsteps came towards you.

The fabric of the new blouse had just passed around your neck when you saw Mike entering your field of vision and turning his back immediately. You suppressed a scream of fear, both hands going straight to your covered breasts - half by the shirt, half by the not-so-sexy black bra you’re wearing.

“Sorry.”

For some reason, that made you sigh with a tired posture instead of yelling at him for privacy invasion. You weren't healthy for that at the moment.

“Something happened?” You asked, fingers pulling the fabric all the way to cover the rest of your torso in time for him to turn back. There wasn’t a touch of embarrassment on his face, but you didn’t comment - it would probably lead to a 'not something I haven't seen before' that you definitely didn’t want to deal with.

“I can come back another time.”

“Well, it's not like I'm having a moment here or anything.”

“I heard about the case,” He used a calm, even careful tone, making you see a full face of sympathy (not condescension). “Crap.”

“Yeah, crap.” There was a silence between you two, a dense one, and Duarte didn’t take his eyes off your face. When it dropped to your mouth though, slowly and a touch insistent, you needed to get your shit together because damn if your day wasn’t already messy enough for this type of… situation.

“Is it something about the suspect?” You asked with a breathy voice, clearing your throat and turning your face away from him.

Duarte considered you for a bit longer before nodding.

“Just a second opinion.”

“One more, you mean.”

“Yeah, that too.”

You hid a small smile, the folder in his hand taking place in yours right away. Being really honest, you tried not to notice that he was still looking at your face when you gave you two a distance, eyes fixed on the document. You took a seat in one of the benches, reading what looked like a transcription of an interrogatory.

“You know I’ll need more time if you want me to verify this information, right?”

“Not so busy right now, are you?” Duarte teased and you didn’t suppress the urge to gaze at him before turning to the papers. The motherfucker was grinning like the menace he was. You should know better than to think that talk would be serious. “I talked to your Captain. Seems like perfect timing to borrow you.”

That sounded new, really new. You could count on one hand how many times you've had a collaborative work with Mike's team - significantly speaking, that would be a first. Admittedly, considering the history you two had, this was almost an impossibility, but apparently the scenario had changed.

You waited for him to say something about not wanting it as much as you did, but nothing came; probably because no one there was that dissatisfied with working together.

“Borrow?”

“You have more details on this suspect than anyone here, and you'll streamline our side by being a temporary consultant,” He leaned over one of the lockers, right beside yours.

“Consultant…” You murmured. “The most I can do is cross-reference information, Duarte, and even then it could be a dead-end street. This guy is a dealer, not a gangster.”

“If I told you that I trust your instincts, what would you say?”

“That you’re sweet talking me to do what you want.”

“I wouldn’t be able to do that even if I pointed a gun at your face,” There was a glint of mischief in his tone, justified by the way he smirked. “And let’s be honest, you’re already in.”

Then Duarte adjusted his position enough to have his full body turned to you.

“Remember what happened when you let your instincts lead last time?”

Amazing sex on a terrible couch? Of course you did. But of course you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“This isn’t a poker game.”

“But we can always have similar consequences.”

You resisted the temptation to say that you weren't too much of a workaholic to get certain kinds of pleasures out of a solved case, but you weren't in the mood to answer many provocations - especially coming from him. Admittedly, working so secondarily for Duarte was never a job aspiration, however, it wasn't like you really were at your best under the circumstances. With a case just taken over by the feds, you could use that parallelism to clear your head.

“Fine,” With one swift motion, you got up, gesturing with the folder in hand. “But next time, at least wait for me to get to my table.”

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

One thing you were sure of: working with Duarte was not like playing poker with Duarte. In poker, you had an advantage, falling back on the bitter and cruel experiences with your aunt who slaughtered Thanksgiving nights. At work, he was the dominant one, with firm words and definite directions that everyone obeyed because he lived up to his reputation as a tough but efficient figure.

There wasn't a joke or flirtation about your past aspirations in the month and a half you'd spent closest to the Gang Unit - he just talked about the suspect, the case, the strategies. It was better that way.

That natural efficiency of his team, with their almost superficial collaboration, dismantled an entire drug distribution network that provided money to a local gang, smaller but no less prodigious at getting more dangerous. It was fine. Amazing, even. A caress to your wounded ego and a new freshness for what was to come, for a good New Year and shit.

And you had someone to thank.

Most of the team had gone to celebrate, which seemed only fair, but you knew Duarte would stay a little longer to work out some final details with his natural perfectionism, so you said you had something to work out - which wasn't a lie.

Since the last few times you played poker in the first place, you've taken to keeping the deck of cards longer in your drawer, as well as real buy chips, just in case the opportunity for entertainment presents itself. With that in mind, you knocked on his office door, which was ajar but you'd learned your lesson the first time, so you waited.

“Won't you celebrate with your detectives?” The question caught him off guard..

“There’s a few things I need to finish,” He said. “You?”

“Later. I needed to talk to you first.”

“About?”

One of the things that felt like squeezing your toes was the fact that Duarte knew how to stare at people, mainly because you liked the attention. He took in every detail of your face, as if taking personal notes in his mind, and as much as it was a little invasive at times, you appreciated it because he had nothing to hide when it came to his reactions.

It was no different then. Away from the table with file boxes, he propped an elbow on one of them and turned to you, waiting patiently because this time, it wasn't like you interrupted him.

“I want to thank you for the opportunity,” Before he could argue with one of his realistic and literal arguments, you raised one of your hands to stop his mouth. “Yes, I know this was just a convenience because of my work and all, but still.”

Duarte considered your face for a moment, serious as a rock, then shrugged lightly and grinned.

“In that case I think it's more than fair to say I'm sorry for accosting you like that in the locker room. Anyone else would have misinterpreted or taken it the other way.”

It was a little surprising; first because he remembered it and second because he was apologizing. You opened and closed your mouth, then repeated the shrug he'd given you seconds before.

“So we agree to accept both.”

“Fine.”

You two exchanged a touch - a handshake. Not firm like a professional one, but soft as ‘this is the moment we have a temporary peace’, as a memory of that fateful dinner that sealed a tenuous truce between you.

The difference is that something had happened in the middle of it. The fact that the air was briefly thinned by that memory made the touch linger, at least enough to know it wasn't just in your head.

“... I want to give you something,” You said, reaching for your back pocket with nervous hands. The chip was caught between your index and middle finger, the symbolic hundred dollars stamped there. “I've tallied up all your masterful losses the times we've played, so I'm giving you that hundred-dollar head start next time.”

“Masterful losses?” He raised both of his eyebrows, taking the small thing with a defiant expression. “Did your aunt teach you how to show off like that too?”

“You wouldn’t stand five minutes with that woman, Duarte. Be thankful that it’s me.”

“Oh, I’m thankful. That's why we didn't play again.”

You frowned, but before you could say something, he anticipated the explanation.

“I'm a sore loser. Especially when it comes from distractions.”

That sounded sharper (no, it was sharper) and you hesitated almost immediately, because one thing was a joking comment, and another was… whatever the guys meant. He didn’t hide the way his eyes got to your cleavage then back to your face. You hated to be taken aback, but suddenly it was too late, too silent, too tempting. Again, you were reminded of Duarte - not the Captain, nor the insufferable guy, but the Mike. That Mike.  

Your laugh shouldn't have come out so embarrassed, almost shy, but the fact that you maintained eye contact and noted how serious he really was, made you feel like a touch of courage to the admission.

“This sounds more like you sweet talking to me.”

“And I told you that it would be stupid to do that to you,” Duarte gave a single step closer, enough to make you need to move your face a little. “But since we’re leading things this way-”

“We are?”

“Don’t you think?”

“Well, since y-”

“I haven't stopped thinking about you.”

Whatever taunt that was trapped in your mouth, it died at the same time as your ready little smile. Again, it was honest and direct, no frills. And you'd be lying if you said the idea didn't cross your mind as you ate one of your mother's puddings at Christmas or New Year's, while the two of you hung out inside the police station at an impromptu party with cheap soda.

“Duarte.” You warned. For what? For who? You couldn’t tell, honestly, because it didn’t make sense. There wasn’t someone to hide your interest - just you, him, and that damn attraction creeping through your lungs.

“I can see it in your eyes, remember? You’re not even a little subtle about it.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Your defensive tone made his smirk grow bigger.

“I’m not. We both know that.”

It was the end of the day, by God in heaven. He was still there, intact, collected, with the dark look of a truth he wasn't even hiding. Surely that would be a stupid decision, as it was the first time - but then he didn't even dare move, tease you with a touch or even explore the moment of privacy of the place. Duarte pushed you to the limits with words.

And you loved it.

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

The damn sofa was there, intact, in the same place as always. You wish you could, with all the provocation on the tip of your tongue, tease him about it, but at the same time this didn’t occur to you because no one there wanted to talk, even more about that stupid thing.

Duarte made his kisses more leisurely, because there was no rush and because you still had muscle memory from the first time. Your back was against the door of his bedroom and he didn't hesitate to grab you in every possible place on your body - waist, breasts, thighs, ass. You had both hands in contact with the skin of his lower back, pulling close, feeling his erection tight in his jeans. All of it, added to the friction of the contact and the slowly sensual kisses, had you flexing your fingers on his skin, humming against his lips.

Clothes started to fall from your bodies - shirts were tossed into corners, belts undone haphazardly, shoes discarded randomly, and pants pinned at the heels. When Mike managed to get your back on the bed, he still had a sock on his foot, and he made an effort to expose himself more, without improvising like before. His body hovered you with attentiveness, like he was everywhere all at once. While his teeth were nipping your chin and neck, one of his knees pushed up on your right leg, gently opening your thighs to fit in and rubbing his covered cock in your wet panties. The contact made you gasp for air, your eyes closed at the delicious friction.

In contrast to the way he wanted to undress you, Duarte lowered one of the cups of your bra instead of taking it off completely and nibbled on your nipple, already ruffled through the air in the room. You gasped, pulled his hair, but all he did was giggle against your skin.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

In fact, the bed was more comfortable and allowed you to move around without the hindrance of cruel upholstery for things or limited space. You could spread yourself across the sheets, squeeze them together as he teased your center with firm but gentle fingers, savoring every moment of that moment with the anticipation of the climax you both remembered well how to achieve.

No one thought about the bar, or the fact that everyone would ask about your sudden disappearance, but in the end none of that shit mattered. The next day or two, a good excuse would come, and you could live with a clear conscience of having a magnificent orgasm.

He penetrated you unreservedly, eliciting moans that almost didn't come out due to the friction of that intrusion. As he moved his hips, Duarte bit harder - the neck, especially, where he would leave a mark that would be difficult to hide. Your eyes opened with each friction with that part inside you that made you soften almost instantly, making you stare at the bedroom ceiling over his broad, firm shoulders, which you held tight enough to leave your own marks.

When he lifted his head and gave you a warm kiss, his tongue shamelessly massaging yours, he murmured a praise that would stick in your mind forever, whether it was the horny husky tone of his voice or the context of it all.

“You’ve ruined me, you know that? Couldn’t fuck anyone without remembering this pussy.”

And that could have sounded like a successful attempt to make that kind of encounter a regular occurrence, both for practicality and for the pleasure of seeing you let your guard down, even temporarily. You smiled at him, lowered one hand to his hips and urged him harder while the other pulled him in for another languid kiss.

“I’m already here,” You whispered with a weak voice, the first signals of your orgasm building inside of you. “What's your plan?”

“Give you the hundred-dollar head start.”

Of course, you didn't voice how much sense it made, or how whatever he had done to you was worth more than a bad joke, but your body's reaction said it all.

Mike Duarte has ruined you for every other man.

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

No pressure tags: 

@cheesybadgers​

@the-hinky-panda​

@bullet-prooflove​

@seaweeden (Tumblr don't let me tag you 😩)

[bankaizen]

updated pinned post bc tumblr is shit!

my name is Gina or just G

previously wraithcaller

i track #josephseedsrosary; please tag me in your creations for fandoms we have in common! i want to see everything 👁️👁️

18+ only please; minors & ageless blogs will be blocked. i only follow 21+

please feel free to spam like/reblog, i live for that shit!!

i mainly post about bleach, but if you're not here for that, feel free to blacklist #bleach posting and #bleach

twitter | anilist | oc blog: @briarsofsin

please read below byf so you know what you're getting yourself into:

please feel free to reblog any ask games without sending anything to me, i genuinely do not care lmao especially if we’re not mutuals. i think most tumblr “etiquette” is a joke (something something the transactional nature of it). i’d prefer you send something if you’re actually interested or curious

character hate in the tags of my posts is an immediate block, because why the fuck are you reblogging shit that you hate? i can see all of your reblogged tags in my notifs, don’t be annoying

i’ve always said that i don’t care what you like or dislike, but i DO care about how you treat other people in fandom. i am against the censorship of any fiction, including anything with dark and taboo content/themes. i do NOT tolerate harassing creators, regardless of what they’ve made. i want nothing to do with you if you think harassing people off platforms is an acceptable thing to do

i block and soft block very liberally. often times, a block from me isn’t personal i’m just trying to curate my space on here so i can have a good time. i also break mutuals liberally if we’re not friends and we don’t interact often. if you can’t handle that, i’m not someone you should follow

don't repost my gifs anywhere without my explicit permission (looking at you, twitter)

feel like this should go without saying, but racists, homophobes, transphobes, fatphobes are not tolerated or welcome here

filtered tags: #snakes (i have a raging phobia)

[last-blue-hours]

https://www.tumblr.com/last-blue-hours/756887572758888448/tis-a-harsh-world-for-a-jungkook-biased-jkker?source=share

And only a Jungkook biased Jkker would be so dramatic and play victim when the only person who has it much worse in this ship war, is Jimin. When Taekook has content, Jikookers sulk that Jungkook may not be doing enough for Jimin as his supposed boyfriend. At worst, they call him an asshole who does not deserve Jimin (said mostly by PJMs). That's it.

Jimin on the other hand, is called the most vile things, and has been for years, all because of your precious Jungkook's actions towards him. He's the one called evil, not Jungkook. He's the one called a sexual predator and child molester, not Jungkook. He's the one solos and shippers targeted specifically and tried to get into trouble with the government, not Jungkook.

It must be nice that the worst thing for someone who biases JK is people saying they think he's not giving back the same devotion his supposed lover gives him, that he's being forced to follow a script or has no backbone. Must be really nice.

Get the fuck over yourself.

I agree with you anon, at least on what you said about Jimin and what he has to face because of certain sides existing within the fandom. I can acknowledge what Jimin has had to go through. I know it's far more worse for him. It's the truth. I have seen vile things being said about Jungkook too, before and now. And addressing that in a manner of how do I put it? Aah yes, in some lighthearted way since I don't quite take it too seriously, doesn't mean I'm playing victim now does it?

I'm hoping that you don't want to turn this into any sort of competition of who has it worse. Is it going to make you feel better if we do so? Since the ask was brought on by your own feelings to all of this. But I understand where they come from. It must be frustrating. After all, there's not much that we can do to put an end to this. These people have made fantasies their reality and by default, every fact that challenges that narrative is irrelevant to them. In some ways similar to how a lot of you think it is jungkook's actions that have made people react in a certain way and not their own deluded perception of it.

But I can assure you, Jimin is fine. He'll be fine. You can tell how much at ease he is these days. It'll never be a steady constant, he's human after all. But he has wonderful people around him, people we know of, some still not known to us. He is loved by so many, you are one of them. It's enough to erase all the hate. It really is.

You're welcome to come and vent again in my ask, only if you can respect what I wish to share in my space.

[frannyzooey]

If you had any advice for someone new to posting fics, what would it be?

I am absolutely jaw dropped, crying on the floor in love with your writing, and it’s inspired me to start writing again. I’m sure you hear that all the time, lol.

But I’m so anxious about putting work out there, and the idea that it may not be liked, or even seen. Which, like, is hard because I know no one owes me anything! and there are so many incredible writers out there! I guess what I’m trying to say is - what is the best way to become a part of the community, and not the creeper breathing breath on the glass window looking into the party?

You’re genuinely so kind to all of your followers and readers, I would just love to pick your brain a little!

Thank you for everything you give to us. 🫶🏻

FIRST - get over here and tuck yourself under my arm ❤ feel the squeeze I am giving you, in both welcome and reassurance! ❤

This ask couldn't be better timed because I was literally just having a conversation with @astroboots today about how I feel like tumblr is a safe space for sharing my writing, but I am absolutely petrified about sharing it any other place. The thought of even talking about my writing out loud makes me want to curl up and hide my face, and even on this platform, I still get anxious sometimes. The Dinner, recently, was a good example of that - I was beyond nervous to post that one.

All this to say: you are not alone ❤

This fandom can be utterly terrifying because of the 1) sheer amount of talent but more so, 2) the sheer amount of content. It's being constantly created, even more with Pedro becoming bigger these days and it's so fucking intimidating even thinking about tossing your fic into the literal OCEAN that exists.

On one hand, an argument could be made that it's actually easier to post because of those reasons, but it's also legit anxiety producing in many, many ways.

The thing that I always say about writing is: find your people. Reach out to people you admire through reblogs, send them asks, pop into their DMs. Share and spread their work, their art, their gifs. Find one or two or ten that seem like they would vibe with you and connect! Because once you have your people in your corner, cheering you on, it becomes fun to post thinking about them reading it.

Instead of thinking of this place like the ocean, think of your curated corner like a little tide pool and your mutuals like little cheerleading starfishes. It's so much easier to share things when you know they will be accepted and supported by people, so start there! You're right in that no one owes you anything, but I am a HUGE supporter of not only writing for yourself, but writing for the seven (7) targeted people you love the most. The ones you know are going to scream in your DMs about it, the ones who helped you brainstorm, the ones who beta read and held you on their shoulders for a lap of victory after you hit post. THOSE people are who you post for (in addition to yourself.)

I (frequently) get pretty freaked out about the size of this fandom and get anxiety when it comes to the rapid upload of content - if you've ever seen me put on my "Out of Office", that's usually why...but thinking of this place as a condensed little bubble can really help ❤

That's exactly how I did it, and how I continue to do it! When I posted my first piece of writing EVER three years ago, I had 8 followers and one serious friend on here. ONE. But that ONE person gave me all the hype I needed to share, and even though my hands were shaking when I hit post, I was.....okay, because I knew they were there with open arms, ready to receive it. ❤

Second, we are ALL the creeper breathing on the glass, looking into the party - every single one of us. I can go on and on (and on and on, seriously, I have so many thoughts on this) about how this is a social media site and how that affects you psychologically for hours, but I don't want to bore you, lol. The best part about there being so many of us though is that...there are so many of us! You are bound to find your people. ❤

If you are scared, DM me. I would love nothing more than to cheer you on. This place has been such a safe haven for me, the only way I can even begin to pay that back is to pass it on.

OH - and EXCUSE YOU, I do not have people telling me that all the time! Holy shit?? I wish you could have been the soft ass look on my face when I got this ask, because that's just about the nicest thing someone has ever said to me, literally. I could kiss you on the mouth. Me? Inspiring you? I am BLUSHING.

Squeezing you EVEN TIGHTER AS I TALKED - do you feel the love, nonnie? 😍❤🥰 Congrats on beginning writing again - I am so FUCKING proud of you and WELCOME!!

[because-its-eurovision]

[kicks down your door] I HEARD YOUR ANXIETY WAS TALKIN SHIT AND IM HERE TO THROW HANDS WITH IT

okay first off, I know how you feel, and you know that I know cus you've seen me have anxiety episodes with these similar feelings of not being good enough or being unimportant or unwanted during out shared time in BC fandom. so I would like to start just by squeezing your hand and reminding you that you're not alone or the only one to occasionally feel this way, your feelings are valid and you're allowed to feel them, even tho they're not based on anything rational and you don't deserve to feel like that, because you are important and valued by the people around you.

you don't owe a participation fee to be part of a fandom. not in money, not by dedicating a certain number of hours, not by creating a specific amount of content, not by reaching some threshold of followers to be considered popular enough to participate. if you like the thing, you qualify. that's all there is. also, fandom is not a limited space with a numbered seats where one person's involvement is somehow taking room from anybody else. fandom is a universe that expands infinitely as more and more people join. it's impossible to take up space that you wouldn't deserve, because there is always more room for everybody to join.

furthermore, I may not be in the Käärijä fandom but I've been lucky to share fandom(s) with you in the past, and I've seen the way you contribute. you have always been one of the nicest, most welcoming, supportive people around, you're so willing to answer everyone's questions and welcome them into your space, and I don't think you even realize how important it is to have people like that in fandoms. the love and kindness and encouragement you show to others has not gone unnoticed, and that is also a way of contributing, and something I've seen you do so much for as long as I've known you. I mean, where in the hell else am I supposed to throw my dumb ESC questions at? people are scary, so I need someone nice and easy to approach. I need you. so your claim about how you don't do your part is, with all due love and respect, complete bullshit anyway <3 you do more than enough, you just don't see it yourself.

last but not least, Käärijä gigs may be queer safe spaces, but they're not queer exclusive. in fact, very few, if any, queer spaces in the world are ever exclusive - even pride parades, drag shows or gay bars aren't, straight cis people who have the basic decency and respect towards the culture are welcomed to those too. so for a music show by an artist that, afaik, isn't even openly queer himself? you're absolutely 100% allowed to go and enjoy your time. it is your space just as much as everyone else's.

you're a fucking gift and the Käärijä fandom is fucking blessed to have you. I'm aggressively kissing your forehead and I hope you can make it and have fun at the cruise. you deserve it. 🖤

Coming from you, this means so much 🥺 and you just reached out to be nice and give encouraging words?? 😭🖤 You're the person I looked up to the most when BCtumblr was in its most active phase, and still do, because you always have your way with words and take time to be wise and insightful and kind to everyone passing by despite battling your own anxiety demons, and I know you have it so much worse than I do which again makes me feel guilty for complaining and extremely grateful for you being so supportive.

I'm just so tired of feeling ashamed of myself and like I'm never good enough, and the constant voice in my head telling that I should be funnier and nicer and braver and prettier and more outgoing and spontaneous, and you telling me that I'm kind and friendly is so nice but strange because I do not see that side in myself at all, and I maybe feel like being welcoming or answering asks isn't tangible enough?? Like you know as opposed to producing content, because I can't draw or write fics or make tiktok edits or memes or be the first to post or comment something, and while I do know it's not demanded and nobody gives a rat's ass about what I do or don't do or post, I kind of feel responsible to pay back to the fandom(s) that have given me so much. I believe that the feeling of never doing or being enough or the pressure of being constantly present isn't a fandom-specific problem but a part of everyday life now, for me at least, but in fandom spaces, bubbles, it is somehow more concentrated.

I'm also feeling constantly guilty about being white and cis and straight and healthy because there are so many around me that are not and a having hard times because of that, and I try to do my best for making the world a better place and be a good ally and a decent person, but I'm just one guy and I'm exhausted, and even right now there are multiple anon asks in my box calling me out and saying I'm disgusting because I'm not saying what they want to hear and posting the kind of content they'd like to see from me, and. it's just too much. i'm so tired of being alive sometimes.

Thank you for being in my life, Abby. Ily 🖤

[countlessrealities]

🔥 { thoughts on anything shipping related ! }

Unpopular opinions || No longer Accepting !

I'm gonna use this ask to delve into a specific aspect of what I mentioned in the previous ask, because I think that this is something you need to know when interacting with me. Bullies or bullying supporters are NOT welcome in my space.

CRITICALLY exploring & enjoying "problematic" SHIPS doesn't make you a bad person / psycho / pervert / whatev they wanna call it.

Almost anyone who's had a fandom experience, no matter how brief, has run into this topic. The whole big war "antis vs pro-shippers"...even if personally I'd call it the endless "in this episode of how antis start another witch hunt against people who just want to stay in their corner and do their thing..." series.

Btw, to be precise, "pro-shipper" doesn't mean only what everyone seems to think. At the very start, the term was used for people who apply the very healthy, very mature philosophy of the "Ship and let ship", variation of that "live and let live" so many people (even antis, and damn, hello, hypocrisy) loves to throw out to justify their not so popular behaviour.

So, "pro-shipper" isn't a bad word. Actually, it means that you're acting like the adult you're supposed to be. And this means that if you follow what I wrote up there, then technically, you are a pro-shipper.

Gonna leave that there, for pondering purposes. For the rest of the ask, I'm gonna use the term with the most common meaning that's used online nowadays. Back on track.

Are these ships "problematic"? According to our social standards, yes. That's undeniable and no one denies it, not even the shippers (mind, I'm talking about people who critically consume this kind of content, the actual pervs are NOT considered here). They know and have the common sense to explore their ship never losing sight of the fact that 1. it's fiction and 2. this doesn't equal supporting those things IRL. Because yeah, I'll say it (unpopular opinion inside the unpopular opinion):

Fiction does NOT equal reality.

Being intellectually curious about something doesn't equal doing it or even just wanting to do it. Most people fantasise about killing one or more people during their life (and this is a scientifical fact, there are studies on this shit), and this fantasies are pretty enjoyable too for most of them. Would you call them murders? Just because they have explored a scenario without having intention of reproducing it in reality?

I don't think so.

And the same goes for anyone who is interested in the theory and the psychology of "problematic" ships (and content in general). Toxic relationships, abusive relationships, underage, big age differences, incest, power imbalance...and there's more than I can't recall right now, but you got the gist. All this stuff is bad IRL, no one can argue with that (and if they do, then they need to get professional help or go to jail). But on a fantastical level, with fictional characters? It's not different from enjoying a horror movie or being fascinated by a fictional serial killer. Which doesn't mean wanting to become the next John Kramer (Saw) or Michael Myers (Halloween) or being an actual groupie.

So let's put things into the right context before starting to throw around real heavy words, shall we?

Then, on the other hand, as I've already said, we have the ones who bully real people, who accuse real people of being really disgusting thing, who tell real people to kill themselves. People who write on their fucking blog descriptions, for everyone to see, stuff like "pro-shippers killed on sight / if you ship X go hang yourself / if you like Y I hope you OD", etc. I'm not making these up, btw, I've actually seen this shit.

I won't add anything else about this last point because I have already stated what I think and, especially, it should be really fucking obvious. And if it's not to you...whelp, maybe you need to go out and touch some grass. Just saying.

You're allowed not to like this stuff. You're allowed to be uncomfortable about. You have all the rights not to want to see it. You're allowed to avoid / block the people who engage in it. This is all valid.

You're not allowed to be a fucking cowardly bully who uses the anonymity of the internet offers to be an asshole and a criminal. Because that's what you are when you tell someone to take his life, even more when it's about fiction and stuff that doesn't affect anyone's fucking existence. You're a bad person.

So, once again. If you're one of aforementioned people who think that acting this way is all right and cool and just, well...Kindly get the fuck off my blog. I don't want actual toxic people in my life. I hope karma gets to you -fingerguns-

[toburnup]

Is there any specific thing someone says/does that makes you doubt writing? If so how do you pick yourself back up?

There’s a trend on Twitter lately where people have been saying what they dislike in fics, what will stop them from reading a Steddie fic and it’s really made me pause on writing. To see people so passionate about hating certain phrases used or certain descriptions of characters/scenes has sort of made me feel like people are just laughing at my writing even if I haven’t done hat they dislike. Now I’m struggling to get back into writing, I have so many ideas but I’m afraid I’ll be laughed at!

first of all, thank you for sending this. sharing writing is vulnerable so what you're feeling is very very normal

as for the twitter trend, you can try to ignore it, but that's not always possible. we're human, it's hard to look away from that kind of thing. so, some thoughts!

it's very easy to Share An Opinion online, but not all opinions are created equal lol. this kind of trend comes around every few months and i think it's important to think about where those opinions are coming from. are they from people whose opinions you value?

if possible, find/reach out to people whose opinions you do trust and ask for feedback (or even just share stuff on a smaller scale with friends). it's much easier to share with a larger audience after you've run it by others. this could also be through discord groups

sometimes people hate things because they hate it, and sometimes they hate phrases/words because they're overused. but i'm in the opinion that overuse can be for a reason (i remember seeing people be upset about the phrase "toeing off shoes" and it's like damn how's everyone else taking off their shoes??)

overused fanfic phrases have been around forever. i remember when "tongues battled for dominance" was the star. fandoms develop their own language as well. if you're really worried about it, you can keep an eye out for them as you go and as you edit, think about if it's really the best way to phrase it or if it's just familiar because you've read it a lot. or ask a friend to read through it for cliches. or say fuck it and leave them in!!

most of the time, these things that people complain about are not enough to turn them entirely off a fic. we all have our preferences and i sometimes roll my eyes at a phrase but i can't think of anything that would ruin a fic for me. twitter has a limited word count so it lends itself to hyperbole.

so. yes. plenty of things make me doubt my writing, but it's become a lot easier now that i've carved out my own space. i know there's like.. a core group of people who will give it a shot even if they're not into it at face value.

cliches in fics can feel a bit tiring after a while, but i find when i reach that point, it means i need to take a break from reading fics for a bit. it's much faster to read something than it is to write it, so it only makes sense that we'll run into familiar phrases across fics.

i can't do a full beta, but you're always welcome to send me a snippet if you want a second set of eyes on it. i'm happy to help!

[2ndplanetsmut]

An intro page or something; Ain't it nifty?

Heyy

Anyway, I'm 2ndPlanet or V. Feel free to call me either or take a very easy guess as to what my name is and call me that, I don't really mind.

I go by any pronouns and consider myself to be non-binary, I'm omnisexual [or bi for those who don't know what that is]. I was born in early April 2003, and I'm currently 21 years old.

I'm a writer and novelist, I post chapters of my story The Alchemist Arcana on Kindle Vella periodically as I work on it. It's an alternating pov fantasy romance adventure, if you want to know more feel free to ask.

Do not interact list

Do not interact with me if you are: Ableist, Racist, Transphobic, Homophobic, A Minor, A Chaser, A Pedo or associate with the MAP community in any way.

My page is not for you and you will be blocked. I'm trusting you to be mature enough to respect my boundaries while you are in my space.

Do not bring up self-harm, weight loss, and/or use any slurs in my asks or dms

Things I Write & Reblog + My Fandoms

This is a Smut/Erotica blog, this is the type of content you will find here, it's okay if you're not into these kinds of things, but this is what's here; I'm warning you.

Most of the stuff I write is Mlnb [Men/Nonbinary] and a lot of the people I reblog stuff from are trans men. I know a lot of wlw creators don't want men in their spaces and so for the sake of my followers and these creators I will not be using that tag or reblogging from anyone whose blog is men dni.

I write in both 3rd and 2nd person, x reader style content. The reader's gender is typically not specified, will tag if it is though.

The following is a list of general concepts you may see:

Regency

Dumbification

Prince kink

Omegaverse

Vampires

Breeding

Overstimulation

Blindfolding

CNC

Dub-Con

Somnophilia

Degradation

Marking/Biting

Demons

Obsession

etc.

A lot of the time I write for a more general audience and use honorifics instead of names, an example of this being "The King" or "Your Lover". I do also want to write fandom content, but I don't have anything I'm okay with writing about at the moment. Feel free to suggest different media you're into.

At the minute I'm only in three fandoms, I don't write for any, however, I'm very into Stray Kids and Hermitcraft10/Geminitay if you want to chat about either.

Speaking of requests

Suggestions, Asks, & Requests

You are welcome to send me anything rather anonymous or not. You can request content or ask questions, whatever you want to do I would love to hear from you.

Said request content can be from a fandom your really into or just general writing like I mentioned as well.

I don't currently have a tag list or an anon list at all, but let me know if you would want that.

Masterlists & Trigger Warnings

Vs Flytraps ⇄ Kiss the Crown ⇄ more to be added...

All my trigger warnings are in bright pink at the top of each post. The things I reblog I do not tag with trigger warnings even if they don't have them already listed, so read at your own risk.

Take care of yourself please and don't read something if it is going to negatively impact you.

Miscellaneous

I like to talk so I wanted to give you more information about myself. None of this is important I just feel like sharing.

I have a learning disability I've never known exactly what it is just that I have it.

My favorite Western artist is Cameron Phillip, Outro: Dreamworld fucking slaps.

My monthly song theme is as follows:

Armageddon by æspa

Pretty When you Cry by Plvtinum,

Slow Down by Chase Atlantic,

Ultra Instinct by Wayfloe

LONG LIVE THE DARK PINK AESTHETIC!

Pretty please send me stuff, I promise to not bite you unless you ask me to

[canislupus-exe]

Like Always | richie tozier

>> gif credit to @/sanriogaki on weheartit <<

fandom | It: Chapter One

character | Richie Tozier

reader | she/her (he ver.)(they ver.)

requested | Anonymous

warnings | none

word count | 1,189

keys | (Y/n) = Your name

>> prompts <<

56 | “Are you flirting with me?”

67 | “Stop being so cute.”

68 | “You’re making me blush!”

summary | hi!! can I req a Richie x reader (teenagers- around 15-16?)  where they both like each other but are oblivious to each other's feelings? I think it prompts 56, 67, and 68 will work with this!

>> back to prev <<

Keep Reading

You stretched out on the hammock that hung from the posts of the clubhouse. The other losers were strewn about the rest of the space, doing various things to keep themselves occupied. Richie had taken the liberty of staring you down since you were lying on what he considered the second coming of Jesus.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer, dickwad.” You said, stretching out to get more comfortable. Annoying him was just a bonus.

“Eddie, didn’t you say it was a 10-minute limit?” Richie asked.

“Uh yeah well considering you didn’t respect that rule when it was my turn I think (Y/n) has every right to overstay her welcome on that hammock.”

“Aw stop it, Eddie, you’re making me blush.” You teased. Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Don’t make me take it back (Y/n).”

“Love you too Eds.” You replied as you went back to reading your comic book.

“Fuck this bullshit,” Richie exclaimed as he walked toward your reclined body. You lowered your book just in time to see Richie sidle up next to you. You groaned.

“Oh come on man, have some self-respect.” You grumbled as he made the fabric sway. He smirked and got comfortable the best he could.

“Ah, that’s refreshing. I mean honestly, my back was killing me. You know, now that I think about it, I could really use a massage. (Y/n), would you be so kind?” He asked, his voice patronizing. You rolled your eyes and set your book down.

“Why of course Mr. Tozier, you should’ve said something sooner. Come real close and I’ll get all that tension out for you.” 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about. Finally getting the royal treatment I deserve.” He replied jokingly, knowing there was no way you’d go for it. You adjusted yourself and to his surprise, actually began to massage his back. His face slowly turned red as he felt your hands climb up his skin, gently pressing your fingers and palms down interchangeably. 

“You're actually…?”

“Anything for you Richie.” You teased. Your heart thumped loudly in your ears. His skin was so soft you were scared your fingertips might just pass through him. You tried to play it cool like this was just your normal, run-of-the-mill, Richie pulling punches and (Y/n) being the only girl dumb enough to punch back, but you knew that was a lie. You knew your hands were trembling as you caressed the back of the boy you’d had a crush on for God knows how many years and you knew he’d start to feel it soon as well.

“Are you flirting with me?” He asked, his voice almost faltering in his throat. He was joking. He had to be joking.

“So what if I am?” You asked, leaning your chin on his shoulder and resting your hands on his hips. Richie practically burst at the seams from this, but what happened next threw him out of the trance faster than he’d fallen into it. You roughly shoved him off the hammock, smirking in triumph at the sound of surprise that jumped out of him. He fell to the floor, and the wind immediately knocked out of his chest. All he could do was lie there for a solid minute, processing what had happened.

“You skank!” He shouted, sitting up and turning toward you. You smirked and reclined again, picking up the comic book you’d set down.

“You love me.” You replied. He gave a slight chuckle before shaking his head and leaning against the wooden post that held up one side of the hammock. He did. He really did.

>><<

You yawned as you approached the arcade snack counter. You’d been going at Street Fighter for far too long and decided it was time for a pick-me-up. An ultra delicious total brain-freezing wild cherry slushie. Or just a cherry slush, as those less passionate than you would call it. 

You sauntered over to the counter and the employee who stood behind it and smiled. He placed a cup under the cherry spout, already knowing what you’d gone there for. To say you were a regular was an understatement. You placed $1.50 on the counter, and the employee finished in record time, sliding the drink to you and putting the cash in the register. You walked away, knowing that he knew that you didn’t need the change.

As you walked away, you ducked behind a hanging tarp. The part of the arcade that was always under construction for whatever reason. You liked laying low here to enjoy your slushes in peace and quiet. Plus there was a working Computer Space cabinet so that was the sickest part.

“How did I know you’d be here?” A familiar voice asked after the rusting of the tarp stopped. You snickered and looked over your shoulder, seeing your best friend.

“Richard Tozier. How often have I told you not to bother me in my super-secret lair?” You replied. It was now his turn to snicker.

“Lair? Seriously? This dingy old place has got to be one of the lamest ‘lairs’ I’ve ever seen.” He said. You exhaled and leaned against the cabinet.

“Yeah, I guess you're right. But it’s gotta be worth something with this original Computer Space cabinet which has an unbeatable high score held by… Well… me.” You replied, a smirk creeping its way onto your lips. There was nothing in the world that pissed Richie off more than the fact that he just couldn’t seem to top you in that damn game.

“Again with this. I swear it’s like the only thing you have over my head. Computer Space this Computer Space that meh meh meh meh meh.” He mocked you.

“Aw, someone’s getting all worked up. Come on, yell at me some more, I like it.” You taunted as you took a sip from your slushie.

“You like everything I do (Y/n).” He said as he leaned on the cabinet beside you.

“Why yes. Every night I go to sleep dreaming of my knight in shining armor Richard Tozier who will sweep me off my feet one day.” You jeered sarcastically.

“I bet you do. I bet you dream of kissing me like there’s no tomorrow.”

“Oh not just kissing Richie. No no no. In my dreams, we do so much more than just kissing.”

“God just stop being so cute!” He exclaimed, his tone much more genuine than he’d intended. You choked on your slushie slightly, your face growing warm from the blood that rushed to it.

“Wh-What?” You stared at him. His face dropped as he registered what he’d said. 

“Oh, I just- um… I-I’m kidding. Like always.”

“Then why are you so red?”

“It’s warm?”

“You’re so full of shit Tozier.” You replied before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a kiss. He made a noise of surprise but within seconds he was practically melting into your touch. He wrapped his arms around your waist and deepened the kiss as much as he could. You still tasted like the cherry slushie, and he couldn’t get enough.

[x-childish-x]

honestly, i’m surprised no one has requested anakin smut yet! can i request anakin x fem!reader smut where they have bathtub s3x 🥴 and reader says nsfw prompt 35 to anakin, and he’s like “i don’t care” then later into it, reader asks anakin nsfw prompt 55?

Unlocked Doors

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x fem!reader

Fandom: Star Wars

Warnings: NSFW!, fingering, handjob, choking, PiV,

Word Count: 864

A/N:  Here you are my lovely! Wow, my first Anakin smut, I was wondering when the day would come lol! I hope you all enjoy! Thank you for the constant support, motivation, and love! I appreciate you all so much. Feedback is always welcome and encouraged! Thank you!

Summary: After a long mission you decided you'd like to relax, but of course, you seem to have forgotten to lock the door.

(gif not mine!)

A bath... what better way to relax, right? You'd returned from a two-week-long mission only hours prior, and the shower you'd taken before meeting with the council just hadn't soothed you in the way you'd been hoping. You'd decided to go the whole nine yards, Epsom salt, bubbles, a bath bomb, all of it. You deserved it after the past two weeks you'd had.

"You know, you really should lock the door when you're taking a bath," Anakin's snarky remark filled the peaceful air, causing you to open your eyes.

"Perhaps you should knock before entering a room," You challenged, looking up at the Jedi Knight as he slowly began to strip himself of his Jedi robes. You smiled wickedly, "Who said you'd be getting any tonight?"

Anakin smiled as he removed the tunic, revealing his bare chest, "Who said I wanted any? Perhaps, my little flower, I just wanted to enjoy the bath with you."

You laughed lightly, watching as he quickly finished stripping himself before slipping himself into the space behind you. Gently, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You squealed slightly at the contrast of his cold metal hand compared to the hot bathwater. Anakin chuckled at your behavior, kissing your neck softly.

Your eyes fluttered close as the touch of his soft lips, his mouth kissing repeatedly on your neck as you relished in the feeling. Slowly Anakin began to nip at your neck surely leaving marks as you moaned ever so softly.

"Ani, we're in a bathtub!" You scolded, trying to hide the soft whimpers threatening to rise in your throat.

"I don't care."

Your joyous laugh filled the air as he continued kissing down your throat. His flesh hand danced around your clit, teasing you as he rubbed it slowly. You moaned at the contact, your hips bucking up to meet his hand, desperate for more friction. Anakin 'tsk'ed, shoving you down with his hand before inserting two fingers.

"Now, now, my little flower, you have to be patient," Anakin scolded, shaking his head softly as you moaned loudly, the feeling of his fingers stretching your walls for the first time in nearly three weeks overwhelming your senses.

Your hands fumbled, desperately reaching behind yourself in the water, searching for Anakin's length until you found it. Immediately you wrapped your hand around his cock, stroking his entire length quickly, twisting your wrist in the exact way that you knew he would love it. Anakin's free hand wrapped around your chest, his metal hand beginning to play with your nipple as his mouth continued to assault your neck. His whines mixed with your moans as you both fumbled to bring one another to your peaks, desperate for the release neither of you had had in weeks.

"Ani, please," You whimpered, your free hand reaching down to his playing with your clit.

Anakin smirked, nipping your neck extra hard as you squirmed about, "Yes, my little flower?"

"Fuck me, Ani."

He quickly spun you around, water sloshing over the sides of the tub as Anakin wasted no time in aligning his dick with your heat and slamming up into you. A moan left your lips as you cried out, your hands gripping Anakin's shoulders desperately. It was clear that you'd missed each other far too much, you'd been separated for too long, and you both were desperate to make up for the lost time.

Anakin's pace was relentless, slamming up into you harshly as your moans quickly morphed into shouts, urging Anakin to go even faster. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub repeatedly, part of you dreading the fact that you'd have to clean it up. But right now, with Anakin's cock ramming up into you repeatedly, time after time, you couldn't think of anything besides him.

"Ani," You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you felt your familiar peak nearing, "Choke me, please Ani, choke me."

Anakin's metal hand pulled you back, wrapping around your neck and forcing you to look down at him. The new angle of you slightly leaning back mixed with Anakin choking you made stars appear in your vision. The feeling of him repeatedly pounding in and out of you doing wonders as you reached your peak.

Your scream died in your throat, Anakin's grip tightening as his peak came about. The feeling of your pussy clenching around his made him cum, coating your walls with thick hot ropes of cum as he groaned loudly, thrusting up into you a few final times before letting go of your throat. Without Anakin's support, you collapsed onto him, absolutely spent from the pounding he'd just given up.

"And to think I wanted to relax," You mumbled hoarsely, a giggle falling off your lips.

"Are you saying you'd didn't want that?" Anakin growled playfully.

You quickly shook your head on Anakin's shoulder, "Use your words, my little flower."

"No, sir," You smiled, relaxing completely into his touch. Anakin's lips pressed to your temple, causing your eyes to flutter shut once more as you whispered, "The door was purposely left unlock."

"I know, my little flower, I know."

General Taglist: @nowthisisdark