#i needed this to be posted here so one day i'll go back and listen to it again

[aemelin]

It's about the oranges I'd peel for you. (2024) - Sintasan

[medicinemane]

Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy

You have... very very very very very very very very smart people you know, and they're say something that not only isn't true, but literally is as opposite of the truth as it's possible to be... and you'll... gently inform them "hey, it's actually a bit more like this" and then they just kinda... go on saying literally the exact same thing

I'm not sure if it's just that... I often feel like I must be very bad at communicating, or people must just not notice/ignore a lot of what I say, but... I don't know

Like dearest friend, you've said something as absurd as... I don't know, it's hard to say without saying it, but honest to god about as absurd as saying the United States was a part of the USSR, that level of completely getting it backwards

...and it just doesn't seem to matter when I try to explain it... I legit don't even know if you read what I said

Really end up feeling like I'm going nuts sometimes

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[kobebibebi]

Fighters of Zaron AU

an au based on all of the boys' fantasy larping if it were a continuous story, but rn it's currently set after the events of snow day :]]

altho disclaimer: it's not entirely accurate to canon and ive altered some stuff to make it logical and connected

(tumblr isn't loading for me so im scared these won't be uploaded properly but eh school comes back on monday and i rlly need to finish these)

sorry if the writing is wonky i don't write at all 😭 i will post more arts of this au as time goes by, also it's more of a self-indulgent au since these bastards have genuinely plagued my mind that i need to put and express them out by drawing so i can actually focus on school 💔

here's a ver of the lineup without the pics (I've made cartman too short 😭😭 it's ok his massive wizard hat makes up for it💔)

also my mind is completely going insane spewing everything rn so I'll just add that i completely based their vibes on their snow day boss themes pls tell me im not the only one who listens to those

[pirateprincessblog]

prefects and t(h)reats

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you haven't been lurking the castle at night since the day you cost your house a lot of points and the slytherin prefect scolded you. long enough has passed, and you might want to start doing that again. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park seonghwa x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k words 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: harry potter universe, slytherin!seonghwa, hufflepuff!reader, smut, bit of angst (seonghwa being a piece of shit(basic slytherin) towards the reader and her friends) 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: spanking, hair pulling, choking, finger sucking, fingering, oral (f!receiving), voyeurism, unprotected sex, semi-public?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: idk, cursing i guess 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: something got fucked in the process of posting this so if you see any repeating paragraphs do let me know my eyes aren't working anymore :D !everyone is of age, regardless of the year they are in. also, i may or may not have a finger sucking kink or whatever you call that :) also, i so did NOT use a twd negan reference here. just ignore that.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"ugh! that snape will be the reason i get sent to azkaban, mark my words! i spent ages trying to perfect that mood colour changing sweater, and he just confiscated- wait, what?"

"what, what is it?"

"did our bloody house points get deducted again?"

just your luck, you need to pass by them to get to your next class. you wish you had perfected the disillusionment charm, it would be very helpful right now.

"you."

ignoring the voice that speaks clearly to you, you hug your books to your chest and quicken your pace, attempting to ascend the stone stairs and vanish into the divination classroom. suddenly, your elbows are seized by two familiar pairs of hands, drawing you back to stand before the house points display. indeed, the hourglass under the hufflepuff banner is noticeably less full than it was just the day before. and it may or may not be your fault. again.

"listen to me, honeydukes." wayne, your fellow housemate warns.

"don't call me that!" you still struggle to understand how you acquired that nickname, especially since you rarely visit honeydukes these days. that habit faded after your teeth nearly succumbed to decay from all the cotton candy and chocolate frogs.

"if you keep this up, you are going to be the reason i end up in azkaban. got it?" he points a finger at your face, causing you to stumble back.

"you have a week to get at least twenty points back. if you don't..." the other one, justin, also points his finger at you, "...i'll make your remaining years at hogwarts miserable. we are the lousiest house anyway, why do you have to make it worse?"

"yeah, what do you even do to make us lose house points?"

"i bet she pisses off prefects."

"or bothers professors outside the class, the know-it-all."

"i don't care if you have to duel harry potter himself, you'll get those points back."

"and when you do, you'll get double and triple that, and make sure we win this year."

"it is only fair, since you're costing us so much."

with each accusation hurled at you, you retreat, hoping to flee the verbal attack before tears betray you and worsen the situation. a high pitched noise invades your ears, drowning out their voices. so intent on avoiding their accusing fingers, you fail to notice the brink of the top stair until your foot falters and balance is lost. you gasp, eyes shut, bracing for the impact of cold stone against your skull.

"levioso!"

yet it never comes. your body is stuck in the air, right above the stairs. all the noise and fuss has left the main hall, resulting in you being too scared to open your eyes.

"accio."

but you are forced to open them, ears picking up quiet murmuring, mainly coming from girls. your eyes meet dark brown ones, stone cold with a serious expression. his black swirly wand is directed at you, levitating your body through the air until you're brought back to the top of the stairs. you finally regain control of it, hands hurriedly fixing the robe and covering yourself.

"you fools." he speaks, eyes not leaving yours.

your lip trembles, and eyes well up with tears. park seonghwa is the one person you do not wish to anger and disappoint. your admiration for him hasn't stopped growing since the day he came to this school. park seonghwa, the slytherin prince. slender frame, porcelain skin, high cheekbones, sharp jawline, plump lips, dark eyes, and an immpeccable posture. he walked the castle with such grace, his cloak following him and flowing in the air behind him. whether it was magic or not, you found yourself utterly captivated, not just by his cloak, but by his very essence. he was, in a word, beautiful.

"i'm- i'm sorry-" you stutter, the sentence not yet formed in your brain. is this really how your first encounter with him will go?

"you absolute fools." he turns around, facing the two boys.

wayne and justin are now the ones stumbling back, audibly gulping. "we're sorry, seonghwa."

"all that over house points?" seonghwa scoffs in disbelief, "well, guess what? you just cost your own house fifty points."

the entire great hall gasps, not used to seeing the prefect this enraged and stern. he avoids public confrontations, curious eyes and gossipy mouths, always opting to pull the troublemakers aside to scold them. he also mostly deducts five points, ten at most. but fifty?

"show is over. go to your classes." he orders to the crowd, and they waste no time in continuing their journey to their classrooms.

overwhelmed by the unfolding situation, you find yourself unable to move. your gaze fixes on seonghwa's polished black shoes, unsure of your next action or words. your first encounter with him wasn't supposed to unfold this way. you intended to sweep him off his feet, exuding confidence and the like. embarrassing yourself and struggling to hold back tears while avoiding his gaze was never in the plan.

"hey, honeydukes. are you alright?"

"i'm fi- honeydukes?" you look at him, brows furrowed. "you know about that nickname?"

he tilts his head, chuckling. "i gave you that nickname."

"you... you gave me that nickname?! do you have any idea how freaking annoying it is..."

"okay, calm down now."

"...to be called that all day every day? even when i've stopped visiting that bloody shop..."

"listen to me."

"...it's haunting me! how dare you?!"

your protest is silenced as he steps closer, cradling your jaw in the palm of his hand to lift your face towards his. the way his dark eyes look down on you makes you feel small and fragile, only being safe because he's holding you. you swallow hard, lips pressed tightly together, not yet trusting yourself to speak.

"i gave you that nickname when i first saw you. in hogsmeade, at honeydukes. i had never seen anyone eat cotton candy so cutely, and nobody would tell me your name until recently i heard it myself. so you became honeydukes. not my fault the rest heard it from me and decided to make their own version of it."

"still..." you are stubborn, not willing to let go so easily.

"tell you what..." he reaches into his pocket, taking out something shiny. you notice it is one of those wrapped chocolate balls, and coincidentally your favorite flavour. "accept this as an apology, and stop sneaking around the library at night. you're going to cost your house more points. and us prefects our sanity."

"a candy? you're bribing me?" you scoff.

he chuckles, then puts one end of the wrapper between his pearly white teeth, while his other hand still holds your jaw. he tugs at the opposite end of the wrapper, loosening it and making the treat more accessible. letting the wrapper drop to the ground, the shiny chocolate appears all the more enticing between his slender fingers.

"open up for me."

lips slowly peeling open, you allow his slender fingers to slip past them and place the treat on your tongue.

"that's a good girl." he purrs, eyes focused on the way your tongue swirls around the chocolate and his fingers. he takes them out, and catching you by surprise, puts them inside his mouth. "well, then. you better get to class."

you nod, gulping and hugging your books to your chest. not knowing what to say to that, or what to say at all, you turn around, ready to get to your next class. but he stops you once again, playfulness evident in his voice.

"and i mean it. stop sneaking around the castle at night. not that i hate other forms of punishment, i don't think it's something you'd enjoy. besides, you need sleep, especially with the upcoming exams."

"okay."

"what? didn't quite catch that."

"yes, sir!" you yell, annoyed and already running up the stairs, almost tripping on your cloak.

"atta girl." seonghwa smiles proudly, walking in the direction of his next class.

you used to love hogsmeade. then you hated it. now, you love it again. winter has wrapped the village in a festive mood, with christmas just around the corner. streets are dripping with decorations, lights and christmas trees. enchanted instruments are singing songs on the street, people are rushing to buy presents already, and hermione and ron are bickering as always. harry walks by your side, mesmerized by the amount of lights decorating the balconies of the villagers.

"we always go get stupid butterbeers. let's try something else for once!" the girl complains, growing sick of the habit the four of you have formed when arriving at hogsmeade.

"yes, but... it's butterbeer. what else is there to try?" the ginger says, opting for the simple routine.

"merlin, i don't know! just- ugh. what do you say, honeydukes?"

ever since you told them about the incident at the great hall, they've called you nothing but that. you don't hate it anymore. if anything, it reminds you of the slytherin prefect every time you are called. and you don't hate that either.

"i think..." just as you are about to agree with hermione, your eyes notice a group of slytherins entering the three broomsticks. thus, "...ron is right. i mean, butterbeer is butterbeer."

"so bland. fine, let's go."

upon entering, you realize that you have to fight your way to the seats. it is crowded, as though all of hogwarts has chosen the same time and place for drinks. ron is stubborn, tugging hermione, who tugs you, who tugs harry. the wizard chain somehow makes it through the singing and dancing crowd, reaching the end of the tavern and big table where you usually sit. only to find the place occupied.

"hey, that's our seats!" ron complains, pointing at the slytherin boys.

"oh, no. how dare they take our unassigned assigned seats?" the girl rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"go on, honeydukes. say something."

you look at the boy who remained silent until now, confused. "me? why me?"

"well, it's your little boyfriend sitting there. maybe he'll listen to you."

"harry-!" before you can protest, you are nudged in front of the table, prompting all the boys at the table to halt their conversation and turn their heads to look at you. seonghwa raises an eyebrow, amused.

"what is it, half blood?" draco snickers, glancing over at seonghwa for approval. but when seonghwa doesn't acknowledge him, he settles down, hiding behind his half full glass of butterbeer.

"uh, my friends and i... we were just wondering..." you look behind at the three of them, who stand waiting politely as if you were their mother arranging a play date. "...if you could scoot over and let us have one side of the table? since it is a sharing table... and there's only four of us... and four of you. or not. i mean, if you want to. if you don't, that's fine. i'm not ordering you, i'm just... actually, we don't need it. sorry for bothering you. we'll leave now."

you turn around, cheeks and tips of ears ablaze with embarrassment. the trio looks at you with mouths open wide, wondering just what the hell happened to you.

"what the bloody hell was that?" ron says, eyebrows furrowed.

"i-"

"honeydukes?"

your body responds to his voice immediately, turning around and eyes locking into his. he smiles at you, then waves towards the seats that are now empty.

"ah, sweet!" harry cheers, and the two boys throw their belongings on the chairs and rush to the bar to order.

hermione takes a seat first, choosing a spot as far from them as possible. this leaves you with only one option: the chair next to blaise zabini, the boy who, after Seonghwa and Draco, had the most admirers. he doesn't acknowledge you, nor does anyone else, until you start gossiping with hermione and she abruptly stops mid-sentence.

"he's looking at you."

"what? who is?" your head starts to turn itself before thinking, but hermione is quick to slap your arm. "ow!"

"don't look! that prefect, seonghwa. he's looking at you so intensely. it's scary."

"like, scary scary or hot kinda scary?"

"well, i-" she stutters, not yet used to being this open with anyone yet. "the latter."

the boys arrive, ron holding the drinks and harry holding bowls of snacks. they almost throw them on the table, and ron doesn't even wait to sit before taking a big sip of his drink. harry digs into his loaded chips, not intending on offering anyone a bite or two.

the conversation at the other end of the table ceases, causing ron to set his glass down and harry to stop trying to fit the entire bowl into his cheeks. you look at both ends, the situation looking funny, especially with hermione looking embarrassed next to you. the slytherin boys exude sophistication, taking delicate sips of their drinks, sharing a bowl of spicy chili treats, conversing in hushed tones, and maintaining an overall neat and respectful demeanor. the gryffindor boys are a complete contrast; ron with his butterbeer moustache, harry with sauce smeared on his cheek, both flushed and almost reeking of sweat already.

"wufnt sum?" harry says with his mouth full, nudging his half empty bowl towards the other group.

they all look at the prefect, as if he decides whether they can have some or not. "no, thank you, potter. you seem to be enjoying it too much for me to take it away from you. i'd feel bad."

 the groups snickers, and something twitches inside of you. seeing the prefect's cocky and arrogant smile, your interest in him falters. he's no longer looking at you, not even sparing you glances. entertaining his group and bullying the gryffindor boys seemed to be way more interesting. and you've had enough of it.

"so... nice moustache weasley."

"right, we get it." you almost yell, causing them to stop and turn their heads at you. "you're all so smart, and perfect, and purebloods, and we are just laughing stock. i don't need to listen to this, and neither do they."

"oh, feisty." draco comments, earning a glare from seonghwa.

"right, honeydukes. i apologize for my behaviour." the dark haired slytherin smiles at you, but your face stays the same.

"it's not me you should be apologizing to."

"are you dense? how dare you talk to him like that?" the young boy doesn't give up, wanting to fight you no matter what.

"malfoy, sit back." seonghwa says, putting a hand on draco's chest. "potter, weasley. i apologize for my comments."

"'s alright."

"yeah, no worries." they mumble, gazes locked on the table.

awkward silence swallows your corner of the tavern, with the people only staring at the middle of the table and only breathing. seonghwa then slides the untouched bowl of chili treats in the middle, causing the group to look at him.

"how about a game? you know, that muggle one, never have i ever? for each thing that you did, you need to eat a handful of these. you in, gryffindor?"

eager to prove themselves, they straighten their clothes and backs, and focus. hermione sits back, arms stubbornly crossed over her chest. ron nudges her with his elbow, and she rolls her eyes and joins in.

"hufflepuff?" the dark eyed boy tilts his head.

"sure, whatever."

"alright, then. game on."

it starts with innocent questions, such as cheating on exams and gossips. then, it progressively gets more serious and more...

"never have i ever made out with someone in the astronomy tower?"

sexual.

you are not shocked to see that blaise and seonghwa are taking a handful of the spicy treats, but your jaw drops when ron and hermione do the same, exchanging a single glance before blushing and shoving the handful in their mouths. harry shares his surprise with you, jaw equally hanging.

"well, well. little miss granger." seonghwa teases. "good job, ron boy."

"never have i ever... done more than dry humping in an empty owlery?" harry surprises the table with his question.

"what?! you've done that?!" hermione is almost in his face, surprised how she didn't know this about her best friend.

"i might've..." the chosen one smiles, wasting no time in burning his tongue with the treats once again.

your side of the table seems to retreat after that question, the slytherin boys asking about things you didn't ever think of. things that would have dubmbledore kick you out of the school, through the very same astronomy tower everyone seems to mention. the game eventually grows into a conversation, discussing who their favorite partner was, what their most risky situation was, and who they have an eye on recently.

"what about you, honeydukes?" blaise asks, using seonghwa's nickname for you. it just doesn't hit the same.

"what about me?"

"nothing to share? no risky business, no partners, no bad sexual experiences? i mean, have you had any experience at all?"

"of course i have. i'm not a virgin, if that's what you're implying. i've had more bad ones than good ones. having me jerk someone off under the desk while learning about amortentia wasn't exactly my cup of tea."

"oh, you poor thing." draco coos, mockingly.

they all eventually let go, and when you realize that seonghwa hasn't made a comment about you in a while, you look at him. he is already observing you, his expression unreadable. his eyes roam your face, then your hair, and finally your clothes. you feel small under his intense gaze, and you find yourself squirming on the wooden chair. when his eyes catch yours, he blinks, then looks away.

after a morning of intense studying, practicing flying, and rushing to hogsmeade for potions supplies for the exam tomorrow, you end up sleeping the entire afternoon. when you wake up, it is dark. you hate wasting days, especially because winter ones are so short. you haven't done anything fun for yourself these few weeks, only studying and avoiding the slytherin prefect.

he might've noticed, or perhaps not. you've noticed a few glances here and there, but the hogsmeade encounter made your feelings for him fade. it wasn't a major crush after all, just simple admiration. maybe liking. regardless, he doesn't get in your way. meaning, it might be safe to have one of those late night adventures through the castle. your disillusionment charm has improved, and you'll finally put it to good use.

wearing nothing but your yellow sleeping attire, you slip out of the dormitory and head to the library. the ghosts don't bother you, even if you didn't cast the charm yet. they must've found another victim, especially peeves. that bastard.

no prefect in sight either, which makes you wonder if you're really being that subtle and successful in your late night escapade. perhaps they're toying with you, letting you reach the doors of the library just to stop you and punish you.

yet, it doesn't happen. not when you reach the door, not when you slip past them, and not when you reach the restricted section.

"lumos." you chant, then put the handle of the wand between your teeth so you can see the shelves better.

how sad, you think, sneaking out at night only to come to a library.

mid book browsing, you hear footsteps. hurriedly twirling your wand around yourself, you cast the charm, and crouch.

"nox," you whisper, the wand no longer emitting light from its tip.

the footsteps get closer, with faint whistling being heard. whoever it is, they're either completely oblivious, or they're just keeping you at the edge before revealing themselves.

"little pig, little pig..." the voice sings, and you gasp.

the slytherin prince himself roams the library's forbidden section, each footstep sounding closer to you. you get on your hands and knees, crawling among the shelves in search for a way out. but from this perspective, everything looks different. after all, this isn't your usual view.

"let," step, "me," step, "in."

a hand grabs your hair from behind, pulling your head back just enough to make you yelp. the disillusionment charm wears off, and you groan, defeated.

"well, well. if it isn't the innocent little hufflepuff. no wonder i've been craving sweet since i entered the library."

"will you let go of me?"

"oh, sure thing." he softens his grip, giving you just a taste of freedom before yanking your head again, "what's the magic word? you know, that muggle one?"

"please, please!" you yelp, hands wrapping around his wrist in hopes of convincing him to let go.

he does, then steps back to give you space so you can get up. fixing your sleepwear, you fail to see his amused grin as he stares at you. when you finally look up at him, he has his usual prefect serious face on.

"now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"sorry, it won't happen again." you should tattoo that on yourself next time you're in muggle world, it comes like a good morning to you. "i'll see myself out."

"oh, no, no." the man stops you, grabbing your elbow. "you don't get away with a sorry. not anymore. remember what i said last time?"

"uh... something about different forms of punishment?" you remember.

"that's right. good girl." his voice seems to drop a few octaves, causing you to subconsciously squeeze your thighs together. "now, how many?"

"what?"

"how many?"

"how many what?"

"spanks, sweetheart."

"you're-" you choke on your spit, "you're going to spank me?"

"oh, would you rather lose points? again?" he tilts his head, fake worry painted on his features.

"well, no, but-"

"deducting points doesn't seem to work on you anyways. i'll have to try a different approach. usually works." he steps towards you, making you step back.

"usually? you uh... you spank other people?" you dare ask.

"why?" he continues his slow steps.

"just asking."

"jealous?"

"why would i be?"

"i don't know." he shrugs, then looks around checking for intruders. "a little bird told me you have a crush on me."

your back hits the shelves, and you gasp. he stops in front of you, still maintaining a small distance. you stutter, not knowing what to say. do you have a crush on him?

"i certainly don't."

"oh." he furrows his eyebrows, "you sure?"

"yes." your voice comes out raspy, and you clear your throat. "yes, absolutely."

"honeydukes?"

"yes?"

"are you trying to convince yourself, or me?"

"i don't have a crush on you, seonghwa." you try to sound as convincing as possible.

"good. then, this interaction won't have any side effects besides teaching you a lesson. now, how many?"

you want to say a small number, like two or three. but if it happens to feel good, you won't have the guts to ask for more. oh how foolish, how can spanking be good?

"tick-tock, hufflepuff. if you don't decide, i will for you. and trust me, you do not want that."

he isn't touching you, hell, he isn't even looking at you. yet he has power over you like nobody ever had before, making you stand still against the bookshelves and wait for his instructions.

"ten," you simply say.

"ten? not one, two?" seonghwa is surprised with your answer, figuring you'd choose a smaller number.

"i didn't think you'd accept one or two. or would you?"

"smart girl. no, i wouldn't. now, what was your favorite subject again? charms, herbology?"

"dark arts," you reply, catching him off guard once again. of course he didn't see it coming. you're sneaking out to go to a library, you're a hufflepuff for merlin's sake, and you stand here in front of him, looking up at him with those wide innocent eyes of yours. who would guess dark arts?

"well, then," he swirls his black wand around both of you, turning you invisible once again, "lead the way, honeydukes."

and you do, having him follow you all the way to the defence against the dark arts classroom. you'd be lying if you said nervous sweat hasn't washed you over three times by the time you reach it. when the door closes, it's like time stops. this is it.

"won't umbridge hear? what if she's still in her office?" you whisper.

"muffliato." he simply casts, sparks flying between the desks, up the staircase at the end of the classroom, and through the doors of umbridge's office. "go on."

you keep walking, all the way to her desk. seonghwa plunges on the comfy professor's chair, then motioned for you to step closer. you barely step close to him, and he pushes you over his lap, causing you to squeak unintentionally. you hold onto his thigh, the position not the most comfortable one.

"count." the slytherin prefect demands.

his big hand lands on your bottom, making you jolt. "one."

his other hand rests on the small of your back, keeping you still so you stop squirming. only three more spanks later, you're already shuffling uncomfortably.

"two, three, four," you say, voice slowly cracking.

"but i'm barely halfway there yet, my hufflepuff princess. don't break on me just yet." he coos, voice soft and comforting, a great contrast to his actions.

you sniff, hand hurriedly wiping a tear that threatened to escape. seonghwa doesn't halt, even if he saw that. instead, he spanks you harder and harder, sparing no inch of your skin of the burning sensation.

"five, six, seven." you shudder, bracing yourself for more. only three more.

"almost there, sweetheart. you're doing so good for me." his other hand caresses your hair, removing it from your face and letting it fall aside. seeing you all teared up and flushed, something new sparks inside of him. "so pretty."

he can't help himself, his hand abusing your sore bottom, exceeding the amount that you both agreed on. you keep counting, not asking him to stop. he lands a final one, deciding it is enough once you let out the first cry.

"t-twenty," you sob, hiding your face in his black slacks.

when his hand touches your bottom again, you expect it to be another hit. instead, his hand caresses it, helping to soothe the pain. it lasts mere seconds, before you feel him raise the top of your pajama, then pull on the bottom. he exposes your red bottom to the cool classroom air, and you can't help but whine at the loss of contact.

"you did so good, my love." seonghwa coos, fingers running through your hair as he waits for you to collect yourself.

once you do, you realize that the burning sensation isn't only on your butt cheeks. you also feel it between your legs, briefs soaked with arousal.

"did you learn the lesson?" his hand finds its spot under your chin, raising your head so he can look at you properly.

"yes." you say, failing to maintain eye-contact with him. maybe it's the guilt, or maybe simply the way he looks at you. either way, you opt to stare at his perfectly ironed and buttoned up prefect attire.

"want me to make it feel better?"

you shrug, not quite sure what you wanted anyway. his hand slips from under your chin to your neck, catching you off guard, his fingers squeezing the sides of it. he presses lightly into your skin, the other hand adjusting your bottom so that it is higher up and your core easily accessible. a moan escapes your lips, feeling his digits find your clit so easily.

"oh, you poor thing. you're absolutely soaked. is that why you're crying? not from the pain, but from lack of attention?"

when you don't reply, he only chuckles, pressing into your neck more.

"i'll take good care of you, honeydukes."

he moves your briefs aside, digits circling your clit softly, before slipping into your aching hole. you bite into the fabric of his pants, but he stops you, instead offering his finger to bite on. he still holds onto your neck with his thumb and the rest of the fingers, his index finger popped into your mouth to muffle any noise you have to offer him.

hearing your own hole squelch as his fingers pump in and out of you makes a new rush of arousal wash over your folds. his fingers are long, very long. he curves them, spreads them, then removes them from your hole, only to spread your slick all over your clit and abuse it.

you're a drooling mess on his lap, eyes turning back at the pure pleasure he is gracing you with. your hips hopelessly push back, looking for anything to fill you up. he notices, removing his hand from your core, before standing you up and pushing you to sit on the desk. with a single motion, he shreds your briefs to bits, stuffing them into his pocket and attaching his mouth to your aching core.

you fall back on the desk, head hanging from it and overlooking the empty classroom. your brain creates various images for you as seonghwa's hot tongue swipes across your folds, imagining the classroom full of students as seonghwa feasts on you in front of them. were you weird for that?

"not at all, princess."

"stop reading my mind, prefect." you tug on his hair, a form of punishment for intruding your thoughts.

"can't help it, not when you're dripping all over my face."

his fingers find their way into your clenching hole again, curling upwards and finding a spot nobody ever had before. a moan escapes you, echoing through the classroom, and your other hand pushes seonghwa's head further into your cunt.

he chuckles against you, his own hands holding your thighs so you don't suffocate him. you feel yourself inching closer, hips desperately grinding on his mouth and nose, eager to feel a proper orgasm. he pulls away once again, making you whine and groan.

"my, i've spoiled you." he raises an eyebrow, amused at the glares you're sending him. he stands up, working on his zipper. he doesn't take his pants off, deciding to keep his prefect uniform on. it only makes the situation hotter, your brain finally realizing just what you're doing.

you're messing with a prefect, in the middle of the night, in a classroom, right under a professor's nose.

"kiss me." you ask, voice small. red paints your cheeks; you wanted to sound more confident than that.

"you want to taste yourself on my tongue, princess?"

"yes, please."

"since you asked so nicely."

he helps you stand again, hands firm on your waist, and lips finally attached to yours. your arms wrap around his neck, hungrily bringing his body closer to yours. you indeed taste yourself on his tongue, seonghwa not wasting a second in pushing through your soft lips in search for your hot muscle. the sound of kissing echoes in the classroom, the setting hotter than your wildest dreams. seonghwa is a dreamy kisser, making you feel wanted, hot and appreciated at the same time. his lips never leave yours, not even when your fingers tangle in his hair and pull at it with ecstasy. he only moans softly into your mouth, giving you a wave of confidence.

your hand slides down his chest, to the button of his pants, and finally to the zipper. you reach into it, pulling his hard cock out, before giving it a few slow pumps. he sighs into your lips, pulling away for a few moments. his forehead rests against yours, his body falling in control of your one hand. your thumb swipes over the tip, collecting the slick and spreading it over him. his hips rock with your hand, whines and moans deliciously filling your ears. it feels powerful to have him tremble in your hands, desperate and yearning for your touch and attention. this must be what he feels on a daily basis. and it must feel fucking amazing.

"you're full of surprises, aren't you?" he teases, and you tease back by squeezing his cock. he gasps, but chuckles regardless. "you're just a little brat, waiting to be stuffed like a bad girl. i know it."

with a swift motion, seonghwa turns you around, your still clothed tits pressing against the hard wooden desk and head pushed on the side. he slides into you without warning or teasing, so easily and perfectly. he wastes no time in holding your hips still, smashing his own into you and burying his cock deep in your hole. your walls swallow each inch he offers you, having both of you moan and groan at the pleasure.

"fuck-" he curses, eyes planted on the place where the two of you connect. "fuck, honeydukes- you're going to be the death of me."

"do you- ah!" he snaps his hips into yours once again, each thrust more forceful than the other, "do you do this with others sneaking out at night?"

"i knew you were jealous. so you do have a little crush on me?" he chuckles breathlessly.

"maybe. and maybe." you groan, hands gripping the edges of the desk.

"no, baby. i don't. you're the only one whose cunt i'm going to fill up, again and again. until you've learned your lesson properly."

it is your turn to chuckle now. "if this is your form of punishment, i might start sneaking around while you're on duty more often."

"oh, my hufflepuff princess. if you want me, you can have me any time you want. all day, every day. all you have to do is ask."

the conversation stops, as do his hips, when the doors on top of the stairs open.

"who's there?"

you try looking back at seonghwa, eyes full of fear. his cock twitches in your hole, the riskiness of the situation arousing to him.

"hush, love." he whispers, hand pushing your head down against the cold wood again.

his hips start moving gently, slowly stretching your hole again. you're in shock, not believing that he'd actually continue as the professor walks down the stairs in her own sleeping attire. her eyes skim over the room, trying to find anything unusual. but the silencing spell seems to be working, just like the disillusionment one, making umbridge unaware of your presence. a very... lewd presence.

"merlin, i can't take it anymore. i'm sorry, love."

not giving you a chance to ask why he's apologizing, you soon learn as his hand pulls your hair back and his other one grips your bruised bottom. his hips snap into yours with speed and accuracy, hitting the right spots and bringing you closer to release.

"seonghwa-" you moan.

"yes, love?"

"i want-" you moan again, then beg, "i want to see you, touch you."

he pulls away, helping your limp body in a different position. the professor is ignored, even when she comes dangerously close to the desk. it sends a new wave of arousal to your core, just in time for seonghwa to slide into you again.

"look at that," he sighs, looking at your belly.

you follow his gaze, seeing the outline of his cock on it. your hands bring his head closer so you can kiss him, with equal hunger as before. he continues pounding into you, chasing his own orgasm.

"right, there better not be anyone. i'm not in the mood for any tricks!" umbridge threatens, causing both of you to chuckle into each others mouths.

"this is kind of hot," you admit.

"as much as it is, i want her to go away as soon as possible. i just can't cum when i see her face."

you laugh, glancing at the professor one more time. as if she heard, she listens, angrily stomping upstairs and slamming the door shut.

"uh, speaking of temperatures, i know this is crazy, but i am feeling a bit chilly." you admit, the winter air entering the classroom and hitting your naked skin. after all, you were only in your thin sleepwear, having heavy covers on your bed that kept you warm. seonghwa wastes no time in taking off his prefect cloak, helping you put it on and planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you look beautiful in green, my pretty hufflepuff."

blush paints your cheeks, his scent enveloping you and sending a fresh batch of butterflies to your stomach. you never noticed it before, but he smells of forest moss and after rain stone, with a hint of potions ingredients. it is intoxicating, entering your organism and threatening to never leave.

"oh, merlin," seonghwa throws his head back, lost in pure pleasure as your hole swallows him, the outline of his cock on your belly adding to it all and helping him get closer to his goal. "fuck- fuck-"

he's absolutely dashing, a thin layer of sweat shining on his face and making his dark locks stick to his forehead. his lips are plump from you biting and sucking on them, slightly parted and letting out little gasps and moans. he unbuttons the first few buttons of his uniform, not having a problem with the cold. you're a moaning mess, just like him, completely letting go of every thought you had until now, simply giving yourself to him and admiring him.

you feel full of him, and just when you thought you couldn't feel fuller, seonghwa hisses, spilling his load in you and creating more squelching sounds as he rides out his orgasm, pushing in and out of you sloppily.

it doesn't take long for you to reach your own, the knot in your stomach exploding as his tip slams mercilessly into your soft spot, making you grip his arms, shoulders, hair, anything you could reach. he works you through your high, not missing a single face or sound you make.

you're exhausted, struggling to catch your breath. the recovery lasts longer than usual, seonghwa having wrecked you inside out. his hands gently remove your hair from your face so he can take a good look at you.

"you're good, love. breathe." he coos, caressing your cheek and blowing into your face to cool you off.

"thank you," you blurt out.

"what for?" the slytherin prefect laughs at your innocence.

"i don't know. this, i guess. i've never enjoyed sex, always saw it as a chore. and i never felt desired, just objectified."

"well," the dark haired slytherin pecks your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips, "you don't have to worry about that anymore. i've never desired anyone the way i desire you, and i think i just proved it to you how much. you don't have to fear those things with me anymore."

"park seonghwa, are you subtly asking me to be your girlfriend?" you shyly ask, knowing that you might be wrong and embarrass yourself in front of him. to your relief, he pecks your lips once again.

"perhaps. only if you want to. if not, then i'm not asking."

"perhaps i want to."

"perhaps that makes me happy."

"you're crazy." you laugh, and he joins.

seonghwa does one more thing no other partner has ever done for you; he helps you get cleaned, then dressed, and walks you to the doors of your common room.

"if you do decide to sneak off again, please do let me know. wouldn't want other prefects to find you and steal your heart."

you nod, and with a longer kiss, finally part ways with him. he waits until you finish your usual rhythmic tapping on the barrels, until the doors open, and finally, until you disappear into your common room and back to the dormitory.

you notice the sun already rising, and hurry to jump back in bed.

"excuse me? is that a slytherin cloak on you?"

you freeze in your tracks, the cloak ready to slide off you and hide under your pillow. the girl on the bed to your left doesn't give up, now sitting up and staring at you wide eyed.

"and a prefect one too?!" the voice on the right joins, waking up the rest of the room and bringing attention to you.

fuck.

taglist: @hongthoven @itza-meee @onedumbho3 @chngbnwf @mxnsxngie @yunhowooyo @m3chigo @trivia-134340 @sanniesaur @shiningpaint-marbleheart @hyphenen @iweirdthingsblog @moonm1st @hwxbibi @jjoongstar @dawn-iscozy @callmeagardengnome @arson1893 @n1k1mura @ishz @hwa-stars @prettyjewel93 @hongjoongsprincess @fireseo @milkandoranges @kibs-and-bits @kitten4sannie @yuujismom @dianadiaries @teawithcherrypie @morethingsfandom

[grandprixprincess]

hermana part 3 || ln4

lando norris x fem!reader smau + written

part 1 // part 2

warnings: some language

a/n: thanks for all the love for this series :) it's so fun to write! as always, requests are open for smau and text fics <3 also, cherry part 2 will be up next week! read part 1 here :) oh and happy race week!!! i'll be at cota this weekend, so excited!

f1gossip posted

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f1gossip 🚨 Lando Norris seen leaving his Monaco apartment this evening!

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user1 on his way to pick up y/n perhaps? 🤞

user2 the jolly is such a VIBEEEE

user3 oh our man is dressed nice tonight!!! it's giving date night!!!

user4 i think you're right omg??? user5 y/n just posted a story all dressed up 👀

user4 lando is in his lover boy era 😭💗

yourusername posted a story

caption: 🧡🧡🧡

story replies:

yourbestfriend 😍

carlossainz55 are the orange hearts really necessary? 🙄

yourusername yes 🙄

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror before checking the time again. 5:48 pm. Lando would be here soon to pick you up.

Just as you prepared to make your way downstairs, you heard the front door to Carlos' apartment open. You furrowed your brow, wondering why he or Rebecca would be back at this time. They had left earlier in the day and said they would be out until after dinner.

"Y/N?" Carlos' voice rang out.

You grabbed a pair of dainty gold earrings as you walked out of guest bedroom, inserting them in your ear as you walked to where you heard Carlos' voice come from. "Yeah?"

Carlos was alone, carrying a few bags in, his back turned to you. "Good, you're still here. Listen, I just wanted to talk to you real quick before you-" He suddenly turned around mid sentence, "What are you wearing?"

You rolled your eyes. "Don't start, Carlitos. I'm about to leave."

Carlos scoffed. "Uh, no you're not."

You narrowed your eyes at him, "Carlos, stop." Now was not the time for Carlos to go into big brother protection mode. "There's nothing wrong or scandalous about what I'm wearing."

Your phone buzzed. You looked down, seeing Lando's name across your screen, and couldn't help the smile that made its way to your face.

I'm 5 minutes away. See you soon, beautiful.

You were so caught up in reading Lando's text, a blush painting your cheeks a soft pink, that you didn't notice Carlos smirking slightly at you. He liked seeing you happy and smitten like this; it warmed his heart. "You're blushing."

Carlos' words broke you from your daze. "Huh?"

Carlos chuckled lightly. "I said you're blushing." He took a step towards you, reaching his arm out to give you a quick hug. "You look beautiful, hermana. Have fun, yeah?"

You smiled brightly, happy to see Carlos following through with being supportive of you and Lando. "Thanks, we will. I'm going to head down. I'll see you later."

Carlos suddenly gripped your arm, holding you steady. "You are...coming back home tonight, right?"

You blushed, hating every second of this conversation, and gave him a sheepish grin. "Yes, mano. I promise."

"Good. No funny business tonight." You rolled your eyes at his words. "Hey, I mean it, manita. If he's serious, he'll wait."

You obviously didn't tell Carlos the intimate details of you and Lando on the yacht from the previous day. You felt a blush creep on your face again just thinking about it. Giving Carlos' arm a reassuring squeeze, you said, "Not that it's any of your business, but we want to wait. I want Lando to properly wine and dine me first."

"Please don't ever say the words 'Lando' and 'wine and dine me' together in a sentence ever again."

You laughed. "Okay, I need to go. He's almost here." You reached up, giving Carlos another reassuring hug. "Love you!"

"Love you. Keep your phone on. If I text you, you better answer."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Fine." You grabbed your purse, making your way to the door. "Bye!"

f1gossip posted

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f1gossip 🚨 Lando and Y/N spotted out in Monaco tonight! The pair were reportedly seen cruising around town before heading to a restaurant.

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user1 lando took her for a drive to watch the sunset 😭😍

user3 literally crying 😭😭😭

user2 i love my emotional support rich couple

user4 george in the likes 💀 he wants to know the tea just like us

user5 carlos at home seeing this like 🤨

user1 nah I know deep down he's a lany/n shipper

user6 they looks so cute together 😭🧡

"Red or white?"

You and Lando were looking over the wine list. The restaurant Lando brought you to was cozy and romantic; you both wore goofy grins as you sat across from each other.

Suddenly you heard your phone buzzing from inside your bag. You and Lando immediately made eye contact, a smirk growing on his face. You had told him in the car what Carlos had said about answering him if he texted you.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, his gaze causing you to throw him a sheepish smile. "Stop looking at me like that!"

He had a full on grin now. "What, am I not allowed to look at my beautiful date?"

He had you blushing now. "Yes, you can look, but don't make fun of me because I have a psycho brother."

Lando gave you another teasing smirk, looking down at the wine list again before saying, "You better answer him. I don't want to have to worry about him bursting in here and tackling me or something."

You giggled, reaching into your bag and grabbing your phone. You were confused and surprised when you saw who had texted you.

Lando grabbed your hand as you made your way upstairs to meet up with Charles and Alexandra. His hand in yours felt so natural, like two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly. You smiled down at your joined hands before pulling out your phone to take a quick photo.

After taking the picture, you look up to see Lando staring at you, almost awestruck. You quirked your brow and smiled slightly, asking, "What?"

Lando just shook his head, rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand affectionately. "Nothing, just wondering how I got so lucky to have such a beautiful date tonight."

You blushed for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. "I feel pretty lucky too. I'm here with my dream man." You squeeze his hand.

The two of you have made it to the rooftop now, and do a once over of the space, looking for your friends. Lando leads you two towards the bar in the meantime.

"Dream man, huh?" Lando let go of your hand suddenly, his hand finding its way to your hip, pulling you in close, whispering in your ear, "You're literally the object of all my fantasies and desires." Lando keeps his hand on your hip, using his thumb to rub slow, small circles into your side.

You feel hot suddenly, and you know it's probably another blush on your face. Words lose you; you just focus on Lando's hand on you as stare up at him, eyes dilated.

"It's so fucking cute when you blush like that," Lando whispers in your ear again, "You're my dream girl."

Just as you were about to respond, you hear a voice behind you say, "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

You turn around, Lando's hand still on your hip, to see Charles and Alexandra, both with coy smiles on their faces. You and Lando wear sheepish smiles as you wave to your friends.

Charles spoke up again. "Okay, first round is on me. Then you two can explain what's going on."

Lando laughed, letting go of your hip to join Charles to bring the drinks back. "Vodka cran?" he asked you, hand lingering with yours as he walked away.

He still remembers your drink of choice. You smiled, nodding. "Yes, please."

Once the boys were gone, Alex looked at you, still with that coy smile on her face. "Alright, spill. When did this happen?"

"After Singapore." You had another goofy smile on your face, you were sure of it. "We hadn't seen each other in a while, but after the race he texted me asking to see me again. Then he offered to pick me up from the airport, and yesterday we spent the day together..."

"Oh trust me, I saw the photos." Alex said teasingly.

You blushed again. "He told me yesterday that he tried to ask me out years ago, but Carlos stopped him."

Alex rolled her eyes. "I know he means well, but that doesn't surprise me at all."

You nod. "The past is the past. I've already spoken to Carlos about it and we've cleared the air."

"That's good." Alex reached over, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze. "You two looked so smitten with each other during dinner. I'm happy for you."

You saw Lando and Charles walking back towards you two, drinks in hand. You locked eyes with Lando, who was mid-conversation with Charles, and he flashed you a handsome grin.

Dream man.

yourusername posted a close friends story

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yourbestfriend screaming crying throwing up

iamrebeccad carlos saw this and threw his phone across the floor

f1gossip posted

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f1gossip 🚨 Lando Norris and Y/N Y/L/N spotted out at a bar in Monaco tonight!

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user1 the way lando is looking at her 😭 when will it be my turn

user2 lany/n army we are getting FED

user3 and they were seen hanging with charles and alex!! 🥰

user4 why them and not carlos and rebecca?? user3 probably because carlos would kill lando on sight if he saw lando touching y/n like that irl user3 also I think charles and alex just happened to be there too coincidentally

user5 idk who i'm more jealous of: lando or y/n 😭

It was nearly midnight when Lando pulled up outside Carlos' apartment building. You didn't want the night to end. Lando's hand was latched with yours in your lap.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, just trying to savor the moment. "If you asked me to sit out here with you all night, I would," you admitted.

Lando chuckled. "As tempting as that is, these seats aren't exactly the most comfortable." He began rubbing soft circles on your hand with his thumb. "I had a great time tonight."

Your heart fluttered at his words. "So did I." You laid your free hand on his forearm, just wanting to savor as much of his touch as possible. "Will I get to see you again before I leave?"

Lando had a teasing glint in his eye as he said, "That eager to see me again, huh?" Little shit. He shifted in his seat, turning towards you, inching closer.

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Hey, that's my line." You inched closer to him, waiting for what was to come. "Answer the question."

Your faces were centimeters apart. "I've been spoiled the past few days. I want to see you every day."

"Come see me tomorrow."

Lando sighed. "Are you sure? I don't want to take you away from spending time with Carlos."

You smiled at his thoughtfulness. "He's going golfing tomorrow," you said, "So I'll be alone until he gets back." You hesitated for a moment, before adding, "I'm making dinner tomorrow. You should come."

Lando quirked his brow. "Come to dinner...with you and Carlos?"

You narrowed your eyes, flashing him a grin. "It's not like the three of us haven't had dinner together before."

"Yeah, but it's different now."

"You do know you'll have to face him eventually, right?"

If it was possible, Lando leaned even closer. "Yeah, I know." He reached his free hand up, caressing your face. "I'll be there."

Lando smiled at the way your face lit up with joy. "You will?" When he nodded, you finally leaned in and closed the gap between you two, connecting his lips with yours.

It felt blissful. You were sure you could kiss Lando for the rest of your life and never get enough. As his lips moved against yours, you released your hand from his, snaking both hands around his neck.

You smirked against his lips when your hands found themselves in his curls again.

"Careful, baby," Lando cooed against your lips. "I'm already fighting the urge to ask you to come home with me."

You giggled, pulling his face back towards yours, desperate for his lips on yours again.

Suddenly, you felt your phone buzz in your purse. The two of you broke apart, smirks on your faces. You both knew who it was.

Stop sucking faces and come inside already. It's late.

"He's watching us," you said, showing the text you received from Carlos. "I better go." You sighed, a wave of sadness taking over you at the realization that the night really was ending.

"Can I walk you up?"

Your eyes widened. "Uh, yeah, of course." Lando quicky got out of the car, walking over to your side and holding out his hand. "Are you sure?"

He flashed a genuine smile. "I'm going to have to face him eventually, right?" You look at his offered hand again before reaching out and grabbing it, lacing your fingers together. As you made your way inside and towards the elevator, he added, "Besides, it's not a real first date unless you do the classic goodnight kiss at the front door."

"You're a real charmer, huh?"

As you finally made your way to Carlos' front door, you stopped to dig for the key in your purse. You struggled to find it for a bit; suddenly, the door opened, revealing Carlos.

"Hey, mate." Lando said nervously, letting out an awkward laugh.

Carlos stared blankly at Lando for a moment, before saying, "Hey, cabrón." He stepped out into the hallway to join you both, eyes still on Lando. "Nice of you to walk her up."

"Of course, yeah, of course," Lando rambled, Carlos continuing to stare him down.

You decided to stop this before it escalated further. "You're making him nervous, Carlos. Stop it."

Carlos broke out into a grin, playfully slapping Lando's shoulder. "I was just messing with you, mate." He finally looked over at you before saying to Lando, "You should join us for dinner tomorrow."

You couldn't hide the surprise on your face if you tried. Looking over at Lando, he wore a similar expression on his face before saying, "Yeah, I would like that."

"You should join me for golf tomorrow too if you're not busy."

Now you were sure your eyes were going to pop out of their socket from shock. What was Carlos up to?

When both you and Lando were silent at the second invitation, Carlos added, "Listen, I don't want things to be weird between us because you guys are," he gestured his hand in the space between you two, "dating, or whatever."

You and Lando both laughed, feeling more at ease. You turned to Lando, nudging him with your elbow. "You should go. I'll sleep in and enjoy a day to myself."

With both you and Carlos' eyes on him, he nodded quickly. "Yeah, a round of golf sounds nice. I'm in."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow, mate." Carlos said, offering his hand out to Lando and giving him a bro hug. As he went inside and closed the door, he added, "Doors unlocked, manita."

As Carlos disappeared, Lando turned to you. "Are you sure?" Lando asked, searching your eyes for any doubt. When you nodded and flashed him an earnest smile, he nodded back. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" Lando said, reaching for your hand, caressing it softly. You nodded, leaning up to press one last kiss to his lips for the night; a goodnight kiss to end the most perfect night.

landonorris posted a story

caption: hanging with bae ❤️ @/carlossainz55

story replies:

yourusername LMAO

landonorris sorry you had to find out this way yourusername with my brother too 😔 landonorris carlando can't be broken

user1 y/n brought carlando back together and for that i'll forever be grateful

lando.jpg posted

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell, daniel3.jpg, and others

lando.jpg nice lil break

view all comments

user1 CARLANDOOOO

lnfour 📣 new jpg photo dump alert

user2 y/n on lando.jpg y/n on lando.jpg y/n on lando.jpg

user3 the soft launch is soft launching 😙🤌

user4 putting the carlando pic before y/n??? lando said that's still my man

yourusername mama a girl behind you

user1 LMAO 💀 user5 one thing about y/n? she's always going to roast carlos

carlossainz55 posted

liked by yourusername, iamrebeccad, yoursister, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and others

carlossainz55 Had a great few weeks off. Ready for Austin 🤠🇺🇸

tagged: iamrebeccad, yourusername

view all comments

user1 LFG TRIPLE HEADER TIME

user2 rebecca and y/n are the cutest

yourusername love you but love @/iamrebeccad more 💗

iamrebeccad 💗👯‍♀️ carlossainz55 wow 😐 carlossainz55 whatever we all know who you really love more 🧡 user1 OMG??? user4 the orange heart 😭 oh he is a lany/n shipper for sure

user3 manifesting a y/n appearance in the paddock in austin 🙏

scuderiaferrari Ready to be back on track 💪

user5 chili podium in austin 🕯🙏

yourusername posted

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and others

yourusername Monaco memories ✨

view all comments

user1 not lando liking this under 1 minute of posting

user2 oh he's so down bad, he has those notifs on

landonorris First ♥︎ by author

user5 OH user2 oh ABSOLUTELY down bad user6 og lany/n shippers used to pray for times like these 😭

user3 pls come to austin queen 🙏😔

alexandrasaintmleux 💗☀️

yourusername btw carlos made me post that photo to make up for the last post 🙄

carlossainz55 👍 yourusername 🖕 user1 someone tell ferrari the girls are fighting again 🙄

user4 her not tagging anyone in this post so her and lando can keep soft launching 😂

user5 they're having fun with it and i love it

user6 lando once again behind the camera like 😍🤳

yourbestfriend the first pic 😍😍😍

landonorris i know right 😍 user4 OH user2 down bad on main 😨

It had been a week since you arrived in Monaco. Things with you and Lando were going better than ever, but a fear was beginning to creep in as it was nearing the time for you to head back home. Lando was about to head out on a triple header, and the championship battle between him and Max was at its peak. You contemplated asking Carlos to take you with him to Austin, but would Lando want you there?

"Lan?" You sat on the bed in the hotel room, waiting for Lando to finish getting ready to head out for media day at the circuit. Something had been weighing on your mind as you got ready.

"Yeah?" He grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. "You ready?"

You nodded. "Yeah, just one thing..." you started, "I know we've been spotted and posted who knows how many times already, but this will be the first time we go out together, you know publicly, in front of the media." You fiddled with your hands as you contemplated your next sentence. "I just want to make sure you're ready for that."

"Are you ready for that?"

Without a second thought, you said, "Yeah, I don't want to hide. Soft launching is fun, but I think we lost the element of surprise already."

Lando chuckled before offering his hand for you to take. "I've been ready this whole time. Let's go do our hard launch then, baby."

f1gossip posted

liked by user1, user2, user3, and others

f1gossip 🚨 Lando and Y/N spotted entering the paddock together for media day at COTA!

view all comments

user1 the people's prince and princess

user2 hard launching at a gp is iconic

user4 taking selfies together with fans 😭 i love them sm

user3 will y/n be in the ferrari or mclaren garage this weekend???

user2 i thought for sure ferrari but now i'm thinking mclaren 😬 user4 no she will 1000% be in ferrari there's no way

yourusername posted stories

story 1 caption: save a horse ride a cowboy amirite 😍🤠

story 2 caption: don't worry i'm still a ferrari girl first <3 (ferrari pls give carlos a good strategy this weekend or i swear)

story replies to story 1:

user1 we went from subtle soft launch to horny on main so quick I have whiplash

carlossainz55 delete this

landonorris was busy doing an interview but is this why people keep yelling cowboy at me

yourusername oops sorry baby yourusername come eat i got your chicken wrap landonorris otw 🏃🏻‍♂️

story replies to story 2:

carlossainz55 for once I agree with one of your posts

user2 i can't wait to see you flame williams next year

oscarpiastri posting this while sitting across from me in the mclaren hospitality is wild

yourusername 😂

a/n: part 4 will be out soon :) it will most likely be the last part!

taglist: @npcmia @tinyhrry @that-one-little-soybean @a-beaverhausen @mxdi0 @scorpiodiosa @dripostsstuff @maddja @thegirlamongthestars @flrboyd @saythename-sm @landossainz @arrowenchantress @plotpal @jule239 @avni-sarai @hangingwiththestars @nxk1309 @amberpanda99

[yourlittlebunnyy]

all the times franco colapinto and yn were unhinged on each others socials

find more here!

francolapinto just posted.

liked by ynusername, williamsracing, alexalbon and 394.483 others

francolapinto this has been such an amazing experience! thank you @/williamsracing 💙

see comments

ynusername post season celebrations starts... now🤭

francolapinto then why are you laying next to me STILL DRESSED?

ynusername ugh men these days... i wont do the work myself silly

alexalbon do you guys realise this is not a private chat?

user1 OMG PLS THEYRE ARE SO CUTE AND DUMB TOGETHER

user2 williams pls pls pls never make them change🙏🙏🙏

user3 I'm gonna miss him so much💔

williamsracing it was a pleasure to have you with us💙

alexalbon good luck mate!💙 (finally all this lack of pr training will stop😍)

ynusername are you sure about this...

alexalbon NO

user4 KELSMBAKAKS SHE'S SUCH A DIVA

user5 yn you will be forever missed.

user6 no more yn and franco comments😔

francolapinto no one can stop us😏

williamsracing 😰

landonorris blocked❤️‍🔥

user7 it was about time

charlesleclerc hoping I'll see you more around the paddock! 😊

f1wags_and_gossip just posted.

liked by francolapinto and others

f1wags_and_gossip recent photos of yn! she looked stunning in NYC💚

see comments

user8 LMAOOO NOT FRANCO IN THE LIKES

user9 he's obsessed 🥲

user10 WHO WOULDN'T??? THAT'S YN WE'RE TALKING ABOUT🙏‼️

francolapinto DAMN RIGHT🤭

user10 OMG FRANCO????

francolapinto mami

user11 ohhh there he is

francolapinto ughhhh why she always looks so good😣😣😣

user12 its not fairrrr

user13 tbh franco is so real cause HAVE U SEEN HER??

francolapinto step on me. run me over. literally do anything you want and I'll still beg for more🙏

f1wags_and_gossip oh!

user14 well that was... specific😀

user15 we listen and we don't judge ☝️

user16 judge? i would let her do way worse things to me😞

francolapinto ^^

user16 LOL AJaAKKAKA FRANCOOO

williamsracing we can't even take a breath without franco causing media scandals

francolapinto again, appreciating my woman shouldnt be a scandal???

alexalbon he'll never understand i fear...😟

user17 PLS STOP AJJAJAJAHAHA

ynusername just posted.

liked by francolapinto, yourbestie and others

ynusername second pic is me when he looks at me with those pretty green eyes and asks me if i want to get on my knees for him😇

see comments

user18 oh...

user19 CAPTION IS INSANE

user20 insanely REAL you mean?

user21 oh! that's not...

francolapinto you always make the prettiest expression i cant help it but ask🫣

ynusername awww🥹

user22 GIRL WHY ARE YOU DISCUSSING THE WAY YOU GIVE HEAD HERE????

alexalbon agreed. go somewhere else.

ynusername no❤️

landonorris I THOUGHT I BLOCKED YOU AND THAT THING EWWWW

ynusername dont worry ill block you now🙏❤️

landonorris thank god

user23 lmfaoooo lando is so me rn

user24 can i be blocked too? i cant keep seeing this

yourbestie CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW I FELT OPENING INSTAGRAM AND YOU POPPING ON MY SCREEN HALF NAKED IN FRONT OF MY ALL FAMILY?

ynusername ooooopppppsssieee

yourbestie girl.

yourbestie OMG I JUST READ THE CAPTION WTF IS THAT EW?

user25 literally my reaction

user26 we'll all been there...😔😔😔

francolapinto 🤤🤤🤤

user27 OH HE'S BACK

user28 ffs it wasnt already enough?

francolapinto ai dios mios mami i want you so bad

ynusername you can have me whenever you want baby

francolapinto dont say it twice

alexalbon bleach. i need bleach.

landonorris me too. me too.

charlesleclerc so we all need it, right?

williamsracing yes.

more here!

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 5

in which spencer reid and fem!reader are reunited, but the worst kind of sparks are flying. you meet a man named randall. derek morgan buys you a drink (sort of). it seems that some things can't be unsaid.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: r goes to a bar but doesn't drink alcohol, gets hit on by weird men, dramatic, angst, sorry in advance a/n: surprise! i'll see myself out. love you! lmk your thoughts on this bad boy! i KNOW you'll have some! i'm locking all my doors and the cops are on speed dial after posting this. stay tuned for part six tho

You don’t call Spencer for four days. 

Spencer doesn’t call you for four days. 

It’s scary. 

There’s some texting—mostly him giving you updates on how things are going and when he expects to be back. Mostly you giving the messages a thumbs up and saying nothing else. 

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, his ringtone (the Bill Nye theme) makes you jump as you’re sitting on your bed staring into space. 

His caller ID photo—which is simply his passport photo, because you’d thought it was adorable—stares at you. You stare back. Contemplate not picking up. 

But you’re not quite there yet. 

And you cannot keep listening to Bill Nye the Science Guy. 

The answer button is cold under your thumb, but not as cold as your greeting. 

“Hi.”

You barely recognize your own voice. 

It seems to send Spencer for a loop as well, because his reply is halting. 

“Hey! Hi, um—how are you? I feel like we’ve barely talked this week.”

That would be because you told me my feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me and I don’t know how to stop making every single word I say secretly mean I love you. We can’t have a conversation without me loving you. It will always be in the room or on the phone with us. To ignore the presence of it is impossible, and I don’t know if I can ignore the absence of yours, either. 

“Uh… yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?”

There’s a pause. 

“We wrapped up this morning. We’re getting on the jet here in a few minutes, and, um—I know it’s not ideal, but we missed Derek’s birthday and Penelope is insisting we all go to his favorite bar tonight. And he told me that for his birthday he wants to meet you. So… would you be up for that?”

“You want… to take me to a bar?”

“No. I mean—I know it’s not really your thing, but we missed Derek’s birthday three years in a row, and—and I understand if you don’t want to meet him tonight, but we wouldn’t have to stay very long and I really, really shouldn’t skip it. Derek has saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“You could go without me.”

More silence. Every second hurts, but you don’t understand why he wants you to come meet his best friend if he thinks the two of you are in different places emotionally. 

But maybe he’s not going to break up with you just yet. Maybe he’s going to keep inviting you to bars and foreign film festivals and bookshops. Maybe he’s going to treat you exactly the same as he always has but with this new added layer of knowledge that the way he treats you isn’t actually love, and it never was, and you’re not sure if it has the potential to ever become love. Because if it did—wouldn’t it have already? What more do you have to offer than what you’ve already given him?

Breakup or no breakup, you feel sick. 

When he speaks his tone is similarly chilly. It’s welcome. You want him mad. If he can’t reciprocate your adoration, then the very least he can do is have the decency to reciprocate your reproach. 

“I could. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t want any of this. I need you to know me well enough to know that. And if you can’t love me then at least get angry. At least show me you feel something other than passive contentment. 

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t know.”

A pause stretches so long your heart pounds. You watch the elapsed time of the call tick by, second by second, and you wait for the anticipation to crack under the weight of silence, to give way to some terrible jump scare or to give way at all. 

But the words that end the conversation (if you can even call it that) aren’t any great relief. They’re just sad, and chalk full of defeat. 

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll call you later.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed an ice cube. All the words you’d like to say are frozen in your stinging throat. 

“Okay. Um… I’ll let you board now.”

“The jet’s not…” but he trails off. When he speaks again he sounds just as hurt as you’d wanted—and it doesn’t make you feel better at all. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and your face is burning as tears fill your eyes for the hundredth time this week. That call was terrible and poisonous and you don’t feel like yourself. 

Things have gone so wrong so quickly, and all you know how to do is ice him out so he can’t do it to you first. But it’s not going to make this better. No matter how mean you are to him, at the root of it all you feel unloved and scared and alone and Spencer knows things about love and relationships that you don’t. He’s confusing you with all this talk of feeling differently about each other and I’ll be home tomorrow I miss you and things get complicated when one person likes the other more and let’s talk in person and will you come meet my best friend tonight. All of it leaves you motion sick and ugly crying in the fetal position. 

All you have to get through this is who you’ve always been, a little of the person you’ve become, and the love you harbor for Spencer which rattles around in your chest like a nail in an empty toolbox. At the moment it hardly seems helpful. It mocks you, pointing out the pathetic hilarity of your paradox. The only person who can comfort you, the person you want more than anything, is the reason you’re so upset in the first place. But you can’t help being drawn to him. 

Maybe the love you have for Spencer is more like a magnet in a compass. 

Even if he doesn’t feel it for you, you do love Spencer. And that goes beyond just loving the parts of him that like you. To hide from that love would be a gross disservice to yourself and all the work you’ve done to get here. It’s not as if you suddenly know exactly what the answer is—but you’re sure that hiding is the most childish, cowardly thing you could do and the furthest you could get from a resolution. Even if you can’t make him love you back, you refuse to allow yourself to fizzle quietly out of his life. This relationship deserves something more than that. 

So maybe you don’t have a plan when you wipe your eyes and pick up your phone. Maybe there’s no strategy behind your actions as you text Garcia for the bar location. But if you keep running from everything you’ll never get anywhere. All you can do is show up. It seems like the next best step. 

------

The pub isn’t too crowded—but for a Thursday night, you suppose it’s a bit busy. 

Boot heels hooked onto the metal foot-beam of the stool you’re sitting on, elbows resting on the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you’re staring into an untouched mixed drink. Then you glance down the bar to your right, at the man who’d bought it for you. 

Maybe your ensemble gave him the wrong idea. 

Coming to this gathering had required bravery, and you came armored. Your ensemble projects significantly more confidence than you’re currently feeling. It was intentional, a form of self-protection—but now you’re wondering if it’s projecting a little too much confidence. 

All done up, clearly still a little rough around the edges, and sitting alone at a bar was bound to draw the wrong pairs of eyes. 

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff man says, approaching when you inadvertently catch his gaze. “Are you gonna drink that, or should I? Otherwise I’m lookin’ at eleven dollars right down the drain.”

You avert your eyes, scanning the groups dotted here and there. 

“I’m waiting for friends.”

“Does that make a free drink less appealing?”

He takes the stool next to you, off-gassing the scent of cigarettes and leather. 

“I’m not drinking.”

“Really? I’ve never seen a girl who looks as sad as you do come sit at the bar to stay sober.”

You frown, looking back up at the man next to you. He seems like the Hell’s Angels type—tattooed knuckles, leather jacket, grey beard, and a weathered face that’s clearly spent decades with the sun. Fifties, maybe younger and just looks more rugged. What does it say about how I look tonight that this is the kind of man I’m attracting, you wonder. Maybe you look desperate and just as lonely as you feel. As he claims you do. 

“I’m not sad.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But a happier girl wouldn’t be all alone.”

“I’m waiting for friends,” you repeat, letting the words drip like venom from your tongue. 

“I’m Randall. See? Now we're friends.”

“I don’t need more friends. I like the ones I have.”

Something catches Randall’s attention long enough to catch yours. He raises his bottle vaguely, gesturing beyond your shoulder. 

“Are those angry lookin’ guys in the suits marching right over here the friends you’re talking about?”

You turn your head, brows furrowed, and immediately see the gentlemen to whom your new pal is pointing out. 

Spencer is storming across the bar looking close to furious (which for him, means an expression so placid it gives you chills) followed by Derek Morgan—a man who you’ve only seen pictures of and is even more impressive in person. 

You hate how your breath catches, how your heart is already beating a little faster than usual at the sight of him even though you’re not exactly pleased with each other right now. 

Suddenly the bubbles in your cocktail are once again fascinating.

“Those are the ones.”

“And why are they dressed for church?”

Church?

“They’re FBI.”

“Ah. My lucky fuckin’ day.”

You almost snort. 

“Hey,” Spencer says sternly, hand settling on your back as he partially fills the small space between you and the strange man. “Who’s this?”

You shrug, sit up a little straighter, and take a shallow breath—not because you’re scared of this man but because Spencer is suddenly so close to you and you can feel his warmth and the air bending around him and the scent of him is genuinely dizzying to you. 

“Randall,” you exhale unenthusiastically. But the odd thing is that you’re rather grateful for Randall’s presence. Because now Spencer is here and you have no idea what you’re going to say to him. 

“Oh,” Randall says, sipping his beer unhurriedly before using it to gesture to Spencer. “You’re the boyfriend. You know, that’s funny, because she didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t mention anything. We weren’t having a real conversation.”

Randy holds his hands up defensively, fingers still wrapped around the neck of a sweating bottle. 

“I’m just saying it’s in-ter-esting. Not trying to start anything.” He stands, pauses for another sip—Spencer obviously isn’t sure what to make of this man because he says nothing. “But listen, man to man—you better buy her some flowers or a real pretty fuckin’ necklace or somethin’ because a happy girl in a happy relationship does not come pout at the bar all by herself.”

“Get out of here, man,” Derek finally speaks up. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He sets his empty bottle down and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it between his lips. “But—just for the record—I have a wife. I wasn’t gonna do anything weird. Sometimes when you’re my age you just gotta live a little. Buy a pretty girl a drink. Piss off some Mormons, or whatever the fuck you are.”

This guy sounds like a bad Bruce Springsteen song. But part of you would almost rather hang out with Randall than be forced into a conversation you’re not prepared for with Spencer. 

And whose fault is that, you remind yourself. You decided to come be mature. Suck it up. 

“Goodnight,” Derek emphasizes. 

Spencer doesn’t say a word. You can feel his eyes boring smoking holes into the side of your face, and you look anywhere else.  

“I’ll be here next week after physical therapy like clockwork,” the stranger waves as he ambles away—but not before pointing at you. “You enjoy that drink, friend. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

What a weird man. 

There’s silence for a moment—in which Spencer refuses to stop watching you and you refuse to acknowledge that. 

“And here I was thinking Spencer made you up.” Derek has a beautiful smile and a warm, charming cadence as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Derek.”

You take the proffered hand and shake, offering him a shy smile and introducing yourself in kind. 

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry for crashing your party.”

Really, he’s stunning. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. And you’re not crashing anything. I told pretty boy here I wanted to meet you the second he started talking about a friend. But nah, he just wanted to talk and talk and talk about you—” 

“Alright,” Spencer mumbles, blushing, eyes finally torn from your profile. You smile slightly, brows knitting as Derek magically melts some of the terrible tension.

“Pretty boy?”

Before either of them can explain, someone shrieks in your general direction. You startle backward in your seat, and Spencer steps closer, hand sliding up your back as Penelope, JJ, and Emily join your little huddle. For only a second you allow yourself to shrink into him—before you’re straightening your posture like your spine is a metal rod and his touch burns. It’s a knee-jerk defensive reaction for which you have no explanation. You can’t see him, but you don’t feel his hand on you again. 

“Oh my god! Look at this beautiful person who I love!” Penelope exclaims, pushing past Derek to grab your face and kiss both of your cheeks. “Oh my god,” she says again, wiping sticky lipgloss away with her thumbs, “I totally meant to ask before I did that. But your face is just so kissable. I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“Hi, Penelope,” you smile half-heartedly, incapable of reciprocating her cheery mood. Fortunately, she’s cheery enough for a standard commercial flight’s worth of people, and probably thinks of Derek’s birthday as a national holiday—so she doesn’t pick up on this. 

Emily and JJ offer you tamer although perfectly kind greetings. 

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Emily asks, leaning closer to examine the forgotten beverage in front of you. 

“Not that,” Spencer mutters, grabbing the glass and sliding it away from you. You give him an affronted look—and immediately wish you hadn’t, since you’re meeting his eyes for the first time since he left. His words stall for just a moment as his eyes dart between yours before he’s saying, “you shouldn’t accept a drink if you didn’t watch someone make it.”

The audacity of him to be acting protective makes you scoff. 

“That guy didn’t spike my drink. He was harmless.”

“People thought Ted Bundy was harmless, too.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that you don’t even have a response—your eyes simply narrow and you shake your head. A claustrophobic silence falls over the small group. 

“Okay…” JJ murmurs. “Um, do you guys want to go check out the jukebox with me? We have to play all of the birthday boy’s favorites.”

Several enthusiastic yeses go around, but you’re too busy having a stand off with your boyfriend to take much notice. 

Soon, it’s just the two of you. 

“Controlling isn’t a good look for you,” you finally say, spinning to rest your elbows on the bar once more and studying the bottles of liquor on the shelves beyond. 

“Evasive and avoidant isn’t particularly flattering, either. I was under the impression that you had no intention of coming after that phone call earlier.” 

You scoff again as your blood heats. Already the conversation is going worse than you’d expected—and your expectations were not high. 

“Do you think the cab driver was a serial killer, too? Or maybe the bartender?”

He’s still behind you and slightly to the side—but he leans down, resting his own fists on the bar right next to you and speaking lowly, directly over your shoulder. 

“Why don’t you try speaking to me like we’re adults instead of starting meaningless arguments in order to get under my skin?”

From him, that hurts. 

It’s a branch on the tree of your greatest insecurity—the fear that you’re too inexperienced with relationships and that makes you too immature and he’s been lying every time he says it’s not an issue. Because of course it’s an issue. It’s why you fell in love with him, it’s why you don’t know how to fix it, and it’s why you’re incapable of actually expressing any of your feelings to him.

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” you whisper—as sharp and stinging as a poison dart. “I’m trying to be a fucking adult. I don’t want to be here.”

Silence. 

“Then why did you come?”

His voice is so calm it burns like dry ice. 

“Because! Because you asked me to, because—”

You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud. 

Because I’m obviously still in love with you and I can’t just turn that off. I tried to do the right thing. 

Instead you bury your face in your hands and let it hang in the air, unspoken. You know he knows. You just don’t know why he’s acting like you’re so unreasonable for being upset. 

“Let me make this very clear to you,” Spencer murmurs, brushing your hair away from your ear so tenderly, speaking so softly you could convince yourself that he’ll say something kind. It’s the closest he’s been in days and now that he’s here you feel how much you missed him in your bones. And even though you sense a trap, you can’t help but sit up straighter. You’ll be complicit in your own undoing if it means you can have him close. His breath shakes slightly as he inhales and you brace as best you can. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You told me you weren’t coming and then you decided to show up. I was ready to give you the space that you were too scared to ask me for. But I can only take responsibility for so much of what is ultimately your bad behavior and your adolescent volatility. You can only blame so much of your bad behavior on inexperience before I run out of patience because I don’t find thoughtlessness and emotional immaturity compelling. I told you that if there is a disparity in the way we feel for each other, that was fine, and I meant it. But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back. I am not holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want. So don’t waste your time punishing me because you don’t want to be here. And if you do want to be here, good. I want that too. But act like an adult and make a decision. My leniency has limits, even for you. I am asking that you do not push it any further than you already have.”

You don’t know how long it’s been since your last breath by the time he finishes his address.

Long enough that you’re dizzy when you push away from the bar and shoulder through the throng of patrons as quickly as you reasonably can without outright running. 

Long enough that when you burst out the door into the biting-cold night air, and finally take a deep, gasping breath, it burns and stings and aches and so does your head and your eyes as they well with hot, furious, heartbroken tears. 

You speed-walk to the end of the block, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries and all the curse words you’d love to scream. 

Part of you knows you walked away from the bar in case he decided to try and follow you—but when you look over your shoulder the sidewalk is empty. You should’ve known better than to think he’d follow you after that. But at least it means you can have your breakdown by the relative safety of the bar, leaning your back against the dirty brick facade next to the entrance alcove and sliding down until your butt hits the cold concrete and you don’t even care. 

Who the fuck was that man in the bar who looked like Spencer and sounded like Spencer but spoke to you like this is all your fault, like it’s your fault you love him and he doesn’t love you back, like it’s ridiculous that you’d be upset, like you’re cruel and petty for having feelings about it, about him—for having any fucking feelings at all? And to think that was the man who you let know you more intimately than anyone ever has. Every insecurity you’d ever admitted to him was hurled back in your face like it was nothing. Hell—he even handed you the ones you’d never mentioned. He proved every terrible thought you’ve been having about yourself right. 

How could he be so unabashedly mean to you?

Spencer doesn’t have to love you. It seems clearer now than ever that he doesn’t. But part of you wonders if he suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury because that’s the only explanation for why he could go from treating you how he did before to treating you like he doesn’t even like you. 

You feel like you might throw up. 

“Called it,” a rasping, grumbling voice says from a few feet away. 

You look up, and spot fucking Randall standing under a street light ten feet away, still smoking. 

You go back to studying the tar spots on the sidewalk through bleary eyes. Pebbles sting as they press into your palms. Another one of the universe’s terrible jokes, you suppose. Just earlier you’d thought that you’d rather talk to Randall than Spencer and now here you are and here he is. 

“That kid as much of a dipshit punk as I thought he was?”

Hearing Spencer described as a kid and a dipshit punk is so jarring you almost stop crying. 

“He’s not a dipshit,” you sniff, voice thick with tears as you find yourself explaining Spencer Reid to this stranger for no reason at all. “He has an IQ of 187. He’s a genius.”

“Ah,” he scoffs dismissively, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Dipshit-ism don’t discriminate. Anyone can be one. Even your genius punk boyfriend. As a recovering dipshit myself I know what the work of a fellow dipshit looks like. And this has dipshit written all over it.”

You sob harder. 

Randall speaks calmly around his cigarette. 

“You know, I’m sorry for whatever you got goin’ on. But I’ve never not been the asshole when I got a hysterical woman in front of me. It’s nice that I can confidently say this time it is not my fault.”

The bar door opens, letting a warm burst of jovial music and chatter into the otherwise still night. Steps that are too heavy to be Spencer’s hit the concrete next to you—you look to your left and see Derek Morgan before he looks down and sees you. 

“Hey—you okay out here?”

“Why don’t you go ask your Jehovah’s Witness buddy? He did this.”

Derek makes a face, locating the source of this interjection. 

“Sir, I asked you to leave her alone once and I don’t appreciate being made to repeat myself. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, whatever. Fuck me for making friendly conversation, I guess. Gonna have to call my wife and tell her to pick me up down the street. I don’t want her on the damn phone while she’s driving.”

Randall wanders away again, still muttering to himself and smoking. Derek watches him go, staring daggers into his back until he turns his gaze to you. 

Goodbye, Randall, you think. Great. Now I have neither of them. 

“Hey,” he softens, crouching down to your level. “You okay?”

You sniff, wiping your cheeks and attempting not to smudge your makeup. It’s impossible not to feel awkward—you just met this guy and now he’s here trying to do emotional labor for you on his birthday. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is embarrassing.”

“You don’t look fine. Can I do anything for you? Do you want some food? A drink?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know, I know. But look—Reid is always talking about you. You’re important to him, and he’s important to me. I’ve never seen him this happy and I’ve known that kid a long time. It is in my best interest that someone maintain you, and if it’s not him, it’ll be me. Call it a favor to him, if that makes you feel better.” Derek is sporting a slightly more modest Cheshire grin again by the end of his sentence. Listening to him speak that way about Spencer speaking about you, it’s impossible not to feel a teeny bit lighter. Even if you’re not entirely sure where you stand on all things Spencer related at the moment. “So I’ll ask you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You sniff again. 

“Sure. A ginger ale or something might be good.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. And come inside if Randall tries to run up on you again, okay?”

Despite yourself you manage a laugh at the way he says the name. His warm smile flickers warmer at this.  

“Will do.”

When Derek returns a few minutes later, the plastic cup he’s holding looks decidedly not like ginger ale. 

“Penelope insisted that this is what you would want. I don’t even know.”

You smile slightly as you take the cup, full to the brim with bubbles and thick red syrup. A cherry bobs underneath the layer of cubed ice. 

“Shirley temple,” you chuckle. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again, and you look into your cup as you drink. Maybe your face warms just a bit. You’re still shy around men, you realize. Especially attractive ones. And Derek Morgan definitely qualifies as attractive. 

“So,” he begins, and to your surprise, crouches down in front of you. “I have to be honest—I came out here in the first place because Reid sent me to check on you. But now I’m wondering what the hell he did.”

Spencer sent him. A considerate action that would theoretically signal his care for your feelings. You take another sip, staring into space and trying to digest this information, but it only jumbles with the rest to confuse you more. 

Of course, you don’t know how to convey this to Derek in a way that’s not overly-familiar for just having met the man, so you go with an old standby. 

“I’m probably just overreacting.”

“Uh-huh. I have sisters. I know what an overreaction looks like and if you were overreacting you wouldn’t be out here hiding. What’d he do?”

You can only keep up the facade of emotional stability for so long. Your chin wobbles in a horribly embarrassing way and you look down again. 

“I’m not sure—I’m not sure if he really did anything or if I’m just being dramatic and I don’t want to make him seem—”

“Why don’t you stop defending him and just tell me what he did?” Derek urges. “Trust me—I love that kid to death. But I also know he can be a dick sometimes. You don’t need to worry about making him look bad in front of me.”

Part of you is glad Spencer has such a good friend on his side. And Derek is right—Spencer is an adult. You don’t need to worry about besmirching his reputation. So you take a shuddering sigh, staring into the red of your drink. 

“He just doesn’t like me as much as I like him. Which isn’t his fault, like I said, but—he’s being such an asshole about it.”

Derek pulls a face, strong eyebrows making an impression as they knit.  

“Did he tell you that?”

“Over the phone,” you nod emphatically. “And just now he gave me this whole fucking speech about how immature and horrible I am for not being 100% happy about it. And maybe he’s partially right, I mean—I know people feel things differently and maybe he just was asking for more time. I worry I fucked it up so bad because I couldn’t handle that—but at the same time he didn’t say he wanted more time. He was really fucking unclear and vague about what he wanted, and he asked me to come to this bar like it was nothing when I’ve been worried he was going to break up with me all week. So yeah, I guess he’s right and I have been a bitch about it because I was upset that he didn’t… like me as much. And I wanted him to feel bad because I was so embarrassed, and I also didn’t want to act like everything was normal if he was just going to dump me, I…” you realize you’ve been hardcore rambling and your face heats. “I don’t know.”

There’s a pause, and you worry you’ve done exactly the thing you didn’t want to, which was overshare to this man who seems like he’s significantly more normal and well-adjusted than you. You drink deeply, swallowing sugar and the rest of your words. 

“That’s… bizarre. I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings, but… that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, projecting annoyance so you won’t start crying again. “I was confused too. I thought he really liked me.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m saying—that doesn’t make sense because he does really like you. Really, really likes you, more than I’ve ever seen him like someone before. I mean, last week I finally finished that Tesla biography he’s been on my ass about for months and when I told him, all he wanted to do was talk about your thoughts on it. And then it wasn’t even about the book anymore. I have never, ever seen Reid pass up an opportunity to talk about Nikola Tesla. I’m talking never in my life. He finds a way to make every conversation about you. I can’t even follow the connections sometimes but he always finds a way.”

Your nose wrinkles. 

“Sorry you’ve had to hear so much about me,” you mumble. Though you’re not really sorry. It feels good. A twinge of joy in all the murk. 

“I’m not. Like I said, I’ve known Spencer for a long time and I’ve never seen him this happy. I’m not about to let him fuck it up.”

“If I make him so happy then why did he tell me we don’t feel the same?” you whisper, reaching into the puddle of syrup and ice at the bottom of your now empty cup. 

“Is that exactly what he said?” Derek asks, after a long pause. You bite the maraschino cherry off the stem and nod morosely, grinding a long-gone stranger’s cigarette butt with your boot just to crush something. There’s another beat of silence. “Alright. You know what I think?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, your own wide-eyed and expectant. 

“I think you two need to have an honest conversation. You’re both confused and hurting—I promise Spencer is feeling it too. If you talk to him he won’t be unkind to you.”

“He already was,” you admit. 

“I apologize if I’m out of line here, but you just told me you’ve been icing him out all week because you want him to feel bad. I’m willing to bet you don’t realize how sharp these claws are.” Derek grabs your hand as he says it and you marvel at how much he is the opposite of you. Everything he does and says seems so natural and reasonable and charming even if it would piss you off from anyone else—and you just met the guy. You can see why Spencer and Penelope speak so highly of him. “I think you’ve probably both had your moments these past few days. But that doesn’t mean neither of you deserve any more chances.”

He puts your hand back on your knee and pats it. 

“Besides, Spencer‘s not good at mean. I bet he’s inside worrying himself sick over whatever dumb shit he said to you. He’s probably hyperventilating as we speak.”

“It was really out of character for him,” you concede. 

“Yeah. He’ll be apologizing for a long while. It will get annoying. But he sure as hell won’t be doing it again, I can tell you that much. If he does, let me know. Emily and I will whoop his ass and call it a fitness evaluation.”

“I think that’ll be unnecessary,” you laugh thickly, pulling your sleeve over your hand and wiping away the few tears that haven’t quite dried. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, it’s my birthday, and as a grown man I should not be getting involved in someone else’s relationship drama. I was supposed to be on the dance floor a while ago.” His tone is so warm and sugary by the time he finishes it could rot his perfect grin. It’s futile to hide the way your mouth twists into a reluctant smile as you look down and fix your hair—praying he can’t tell how fazed you are by his kindness. “You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“I’ll—yeah. Right,” you say quietly. But the sinking feeling in your stomach knows it’s a thing easier said than done. 

“Good,” Derek grunts, taking your empty cup before pushing himself back up to his feet and offering you a hand. “Do you want me to send him out here or do you want to come find him inside?”

You balk.

“Like—right now? I have to talk to him now?”

Before he can give you an answer you think you’d rather not have, the bar door is opening. From your spot you can’t see who it is right away, but Derek turns over his shoulder and does a double take before looking back at you. 

Spencer steps out onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning for until he realizes you’re a few feet shorter than usual. Sitting on a filthy public walkway is probably his worst nightmare, you realize, as you scramble to your feet and dust the crumbs of concrete from your palms against the back of your cold jeans. He begins to say your name, and it sounds like relief and regret, but you stop him. 

“I have to go wash my hands.”

It’s monotonous and mumbled and comes out too quickly but you don’t have time to worry about that as you brush past both of the men on your way back into the bar, making an immediate beeline for the bathroom. 

Your face burns with anxiety as you shut the door behind you, immediately drowning in the yellowish lighting which is so harsh but seems to illuminate almost nothing. Who paints a bathroom red? It’s suffocating. You feel like you’re inside an aorta. 

Water runs cool over your hands as you sniffle, rinsing the bits of dirt from red indents made by pebbles and things, and the soap is too floral and powdery but you wash twice anyway. Maybe you’ll just stay in here and wash your hands forever. 

There’s a light knock on the shiny wooden door and it makes you jump. Your name is muffled from the other side. 

“You in there?” 

Quickly you wipe under your reddened eyes in the mirror, trying to fix the slightly smudged makeup. 

The door opens when you don’t respond, and there’s Spencer, looking weary and tense all at once. Is that your fault?

“Hey,” you sniff, trying to effect casualness, but it comes out too quickly and your posture is too stiff. Under his all-seeing gaze you cross and uncross your arms, look at him and look away. Your hands end up in your pockets. He’d say crossed arms are a sign of self-soothing. 

“Hey.” His is more measured, and of course makes you feel embarrassed in comparison. The door swings shut behind him as he enters the small room and makes it feel that much smaller. “Are you… hiding from me in here?”

Yes. 

The graffitied toilet stalls to your left suddenly look fascinating. 

“Nope. Just washing my hands.”

This is not what Derek told you to do, you scold yourself internally. Stop being so scared. Be honest with him. 

Silence rings. All the brutally honest things you’d like to say choke you until your throat hurts and your eyes get hot. Yet again you feel like a stupid little girl who’s too emotional to communicate. 

You cross your arms. It’s an indulgence you feel you’re owed. 

Spencer says your name again and it’s too much. He never says it this often. When he does it feels good but now it’s too formal, makes you too aware of your own inadequacy, and how he must be seeing you—a wraith of a girl in a dingy bar bathroom with clammy hands and smudged eyeliner, practically shaking with fear under an unforgiving light. Someone who is too scared and much too sensitive. 

Spencer attempts to speak again. 

“What I said before, it was—”

“Can you just take me home?” 

It comes out on one exhalation and seems to stall him with all the effectiveness of a slap to the face. 

You don’t know where it comes from, either. 

Easier said than done, you’d thought a few moments ago. All the bravery Derek had tried to instill in you is gone, swallowed down the drain like soap scum. And now you’re choosing to let your fear win—because at least that’s a known quantity. The fear will never reject you. It will always be waiting with open arms. 

Too scared. 

The end feels imminent. You try to press yourself back together, fingernails biting into palms, trying to make something feel more tangible than the terrible knowingness that you’re careening toward an end which was supposed to be a beginning. It’s stifling and you wonder if Spencer is breathing it too. 

You can’t look at his face, but you watch him pocket his hands in his pants and there is so much impossible space between you in such a tiny room. 

“Yeah. I can.”

Something breaks. It’s small, and without fanfare. But it feels final. 

It’s just a ride home. Just a ride home. 

That’s all you have left, and you don’t know how you know it but you do. 

Something so important is being left in this stupid, dingy bathroom. Something that was at one point beautiful and shiny and so arrogant in its newness that it seemed it would never become ugly. And now you’re abandoning it without dignity on the chipped tile floor and in the cobwebs on the walls. It was bigger than you, it was you—and now it’s going to be nothing. 

A vehicle honks on the street. A boisterous group laugh explodes somewhere beyond the door. Water drips from a faucet. 

“I’ll… I’ll bring my car around.”

“Okay.”

But he just stands there for another moment. Like he can’t get himself to move. 

If only time would freeze before he could walk away. 

But it doesn’t. 

He sucks in a decisive breath. 

“Okay,” he murmurs. 

It’s that fucking phone call all over again. 

Then he spins on his heels and leaves you there.

Your time is up. 

-

part 5.5

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

Post war/coma comic about Gai struggling with his recovery

Since tumblr hates long form comics, I have to split this into 2 bc its 36 images. This is the first part, part 2 i'll either do as a reblog or a separate post right after this, stay tuned! Links to support me in pinned post <3

tw: s*icidal thoughts, injury, a little blood

Bisuke: Gai's Back!

Gai: GRAAH!

Kks: Im home Gai: Welcome back Kks: [wheels rolling] Hey,

Kks: Ga-!? Gai: Im fine. The tile is cool on my face. Kks: Wanna go lay down in bed? Gai: I am so /sick/ of lying down. Kks: Ok. What do you want for supper?

Gai: You're not going to comment? Kks: I already know what happened. You overdid it again. I should be able to keep up with chores, kakashi. Kks: You can. Just don' bull through it all in one go. Do you want to end up in the hospital again? Gai: Please don't. Kks: I know sitting still is hard for you, and "too much" is in your DNA, but you have to take this slow so you don't exacerbate your injuries, Gai. You went from hyper-aware to pretending your body limits dont exist. Gai: Like you haven't done the same.

Gai: You've proved your point. Kks: It's not about that. And you've dragged me to bed and out of bed repeatedly when I needed it. You were burning alive from the inside. Tsunade told you your immune system is out of whack. You need to take it easy. /I/ know you're capable, but are you trying to prove to /yourself/ you are? Gai: You want me to admit my embarrassment? Kks: If something serioud happens, You'll be even more embarrassed then

Gai: How could you possibly know how I FEEL?! How could you EVER KNOW HOW I FEEL?! Kks: I DON'T! But I've /been/ the one ouking and sobbing on your bathroom floor because I couldn't take living anymore! And I don't want that for YOU!

Kks: I'm sorry, Gai. Gai: I'm sorry

Kks: I can't stand knowing you're in pain, and I can't get you help. If there was a way, I'd do anything. Gai: You do so much to help me already.... And I yelled at you Kks: I've screamed at you so much, that was pretty tame. I wish I was like you with things like this. Not great with what to say...... But I can listen.

Gai: I hate feeling so weak. I'm tired all the time, in constant pain, I can't even walk-..... I can tell tenten and the boys worry despite my efforts to appear positive. Kks: They're just not sure how to react. They know you hate being babied, but don't want to push you into hurting yourself. You hate being told you can't do something. They love you. You get stronger everyday, everyone is cheering you on.

Gai: I know it's irrational, but... I feel like you gave up the Hokage position to take care of me. Kks: Haa!? I'm grateful if anything. I'd be retired too if I could. That'd be amazing. I'm dreading just helping Tsunade but as long as you're by my side, I'll be fine. We're still equals, rivals, friends, partners

Gai: Even if I can't- Kks: /Always/ wil be, dickhead. Gai: You worry about me hurting myself? Kks: I know you think about it

Kks: We're the same in that regard Gai: I would never act on this, please believe me, these thoughts are rare........... Kks: It's ok, Gai. Gai: Sometimes I think i should have just died. I feel so out of place on the streets I used to feel so at home at. I never asked to live. I didn't plan to. I just don't know how to-...

Kks: I understand that. Though, dying didn't feel any better. Gai: I know I didn't fully pass like you did. I didn't see papa. Just for a moment, I wish I could have seen him.

Kks: As much as I'm sure he wants to see you again, It's too soon. Dai'd slap the shit out of you for wanting to waste your youth just to see him. Gai: [chuckle] probably. Kks: I have those thoughts less and less now, but they're still there. "why am I the one who survives?" "Burden" "Gai will come to his senses eventually"

Gai: FALSE!! None of my grief is with you! I love living here with you! My love for you only burns hotter each day! You're so lovely inside and out! Kks: Maa What did I do to deserve such praise from teh mouth of the hottest man in Konoha?? Gai: YOU STILL THINK I'M HOT?! Kks: YOU-! [CACKLE]

Kks: Your bad taste is the only reason I had a chance before someone snatched you up. Gai: The worst. Kks: Thought we'd irritate eachother, but it's been pretty smooth. Even though you still get played by the dogs. Gai: You really wanna throw those stones?

Gai: They play you just as easily. don't lie. Kks: My point is, whatever you need from me, you have it. No questions asked. Even if you yell and scream, i can take it. You held me together when I was unraveling, and I'll never forget it. Didn't trust anyone else to see me like that. Broken

Gai: I never saw you as that. Kks: I'll never see you as that

[sheeezu]

My shifting guidebook.

This is my last post, as melodramatic as I was in my last post, since both the posts I've made on here and reddit i got busy with responding to dms (for those confused check my first post) so i didn't permashift.

Unfortunately i still couldn't respond to all the messages and questions sent to my inbox and dms, mainly because of the different time zones and general laziness from my side.

I appreciate everyone who asked questions, although i felt it's a bit unfair since the answers to very common problems didn't reach everyone, and i want everyone to shift, i want everyone to shift tonight, so i decided i'll make a post to share all my knowledge, whatever i know, sort of like a parting gift.

And this isn't going to be a beginners guide, mainly for people who need a final push, and most importantly, for emergency shifters.

Onto the questions (: Divided into categories, skip through according to your needs :)

Detachment from CR, attachment to DR:

How can i detach from my CR/attach to my DR?

Generally, detachment can be achieved by numbing your emotions in your CR. But first, I would advise you to refrain from extreme and unhealthy detachment, because you'll end up getting stuck in a endless cycle of messing up your CR and not shifting (because you'd have no control over yourself, which would lead to your subconscious getting grounded in the messed up version of your CR; assuming that unhealthy detachment is daydreaming about your DR all day without any sense of where you are, without a strong mindset, when you eventually snap back you'll think even more vividly of your CR)

But- "unhealthy" attachment can be utilised to your advantage, to shift, in a controlled manner.

Pick a day to shift, let it be a weekend. After dusk, only indulge yourself in your DR. (When you're sure you have free time and you won't be disturbed) for me, I hid under the blanket, with a fully charged phone, I spent a portion of the hours listening to subliminals, and a portion of the time scrolling through pinterest with spotify in the background (things that remind you of your DR)

I recommend listening to detachment from CR and attachment to DR subs, and if you are a permashifter, and it's your deadline, go all out.

This is my advice for detachment from CR during the day, during the method it'll be different.

How can I detach from my CR while I'm shifting? I can't divert my attention away from my CR body/mind.

I'm writing in the pov of my own method.

The only way you can let go of the CR while you're shifting is with a calm mind. If you're overthinking about how you're going to carry out your method, whether you'd wake back in your CR, you'll have trouble reaching a detached state.

To detach, first of all, make yourself comfortable, do not try to force yourself into doing something, or laying in a position which makes you uncomfortable. Next, think of thoughts which pushes your CR to the side, your CR is just another reality, and you're the creator of it, treat it like its any other pebble on the road.

Affs: (again, void reality meaning your CR)

"Void reality? Huh, can't seem to remember what that is..."

"It's so peaceful not being in the void reality, going to fix it when I eventually return from my DR" (I vividly remember saying this, if you're a permashifter, make it so it fits your situation)

"..."

(Not saying anything says a lot, fall numb to your void reality and go onto your DR)

Remember, you're not answerable to your CR, its not your boss or captor, it's actually the opposite.

To attach to your DR during the method, in the middle phase of my method, say identity affs until you feel familiarise with your DR self, think of memories, have a small conversation with your DR loved ones, do a small rewind of your DR life in your mind, so you can ground yourself. I won't be going into much details on how to shift by becoming your DR self, my first post says it all.

How to detach from CR body?

Detaching your thoughts is basically detaching your CR body, the 30 second black out state is basically a window to shifting, because when your CR shuts up for a even just a few seconds it will give you the opportunity to divert your attention to your DR, no matter how fidgety you are.

Problems faced while shifting:

Something always itches me when I try to shift, any advice?

Before you're shifting, take a look at you're environmental factors, why are you feeling itchy in the first place?

If it isn't bugs, dry skin, I recall that during the method some symptoms are just itchiness.

Say affs to block off your senses first of all, until then try to control yourself

Affs:

"I have stopped sensing my void reality (CR)"

"I have stopped hearing, feeling, seeing my void reality"

If the need gets overwhelming and you're just starting your method, make yourself comfortable and move a bit, or just itch it, you can still shift.

I always fall asleep when I try to shift, what should I do?

During the day you're going to shift, and you know you're just tired and lack sleep, take a nap during the day.

If you didn't nap, or just generally feel sleepy still, turn my method into a sleep method, by letting yourself fall asleep while you're actively acting, thinking like your DR self (you'll wake up in your DR the next day)

Sleeping is a good tool for shifting, especially if you're starting to doze off while doing your method, you can achieve other states such as sleep paralysis, lucid dreaming or mind awake body asleep state, so don't get discouraged, if you prefer awake methods, there are some subliminals you can use to stay awake.

I always fear or dread shifting while doing my method and back out at the last minute.

(Copypasted from reddit)

Familiarise yourself with your DR, it's not scary if you know where you're laying, who you are, what's next to you and who's going to be in the room.

If you already start acting like your DR self then in theory fear shouldn't be here (why would you be scared being yourself in an environment which is supposed to be familiar to you?)

It also depends upon the kind of fear

Fear of spirits snatching your soul mid shift - listen to safety and protection subliminals (no, I wasn't personally possessed by demons last minute but it will put your mind at ease)

Fear of the unknown - familiarise yourself with your DR and shifting

Fear of symptoms - don't focus on them

Just know that nothing fearful will exist as long as you don't allow it to exist, you're the creator of your reality.

Trouble focusing while shifting.

Once you're even a tad bit detached from your CR, you would have no trouble focusing, because it's only your CR body's mind which is causing you trouble, the semi-void state in my method (when you don't feel your body that much, you force yourself to not have thoughts) is all you need to do to go onto the next phase of your method, and trust me, it'll feel very easy for you.

Prior to shifting, listen to frequencies, subliminals, basically flood your subconscious with your desired affs (calm mind subs, focus subs, general shifting and void state subliminals) when you're shifting, stare at the blackness and think of it as a milky way, like you're stargazing, I don't know why but your hyperfixation allows you to focus; count to a hundred, visualise your DR memories, youll eventually reach a trance state where you're focused and ready to shift. (if you can't visualise, then think of it in the form of a story)

Misc:

For folks with ADHD:

(Copy pasted from reddit)

I'd recommend try listening to subliminal (especially bundles) when you aren't feeling like doing anything or if you think your messing up.

Also try to keep yourself as comfortable as possible, if you can distract yourself in a way you aren't attached to your CR activities, for example watching movies or shows or youtube video which require minimal effort and attention

And im saying this only if you're utilizing a single day for shifting, or practicing LOA

while doing the method, i'd try to use as less time as possible, and if you feel off, then you can open your eyes and try the method after a small break.

Can I shift to-

Yes, yes, yes. You can shift to anywhere your mind can think up of, it really is that simple. You can shift to the past, shift to prevent a certain event, you can shift to a reality with a confusing concept, you can shift to become a chair.

Did you shift to a animated DR? How was it like?

I shifted to a pokemon DR where I studied pokemons for a living, but I quickly shifted back after 2 days because I got bored.

Personally for me I get creeped out of anything that's eerie or out of the ordinary.

So basically I scripted that it'll feel normal and I wouldn't even question it.

So I didn't, and now that I think about it, everything was proper, people had noses it wad 3D and everything, so just this reality except everyone looked unnaturally good and the world's graphic were different. If the entire world looks the same then nothing feels weird.

Your opinion on clones/time period?

I don't really care about clones or what they are, mainly because I believe in the consciousness theory, and the multiverse theory is a subdivision of consciousness theory, you basically let yourself believe there is a multiverse and for that reason it exists.

So in perceptive of the multiverse theory, your "clone" is just a body, which comes under your command or control.

It can't mess up your CR life, it'll make the same choices as you like you would have made if you were present in your CR.

Personally I had scripted that when I shift back I will wake up the next morning, following the night when I was shifting.

So my "clone" was just sleeping.

Secondly, stop stressing over your clone,

It'll just do what you want it to do, or just live life how you'd normally would

If you script your clone is a superhuman for the time you're in you DR, you'll shift back to a parallel reality of your CR where a superhuman lived your life for a while, but if you want you can just shift to a better CR like I did.

...

Those are all questions that came in my mind, I tried looking back into the chats and inbox to find more commonly asked questions or something I didn't clarify in my first post but most other questions had straight forward or a clear enough answer.

I really wanted to expand this post with more sections and questions, but in my opinion my first and this post combined are a lot of their own, I think I clarified a lot.

It's been a week being on Tumblr, and I loved helping people out, everyone was kind and unique in their own ways, I looked through my followers scripts and blogs and I enjoyed everyone's dedication to shifting, and their DRs (btw, I hadn't expected to get so many follows and notes, I'm genuinely suprised even now)

It had been a lovely experience being on shiftblr, in my opinion it's the best shifting, or just generally the best community on the internet.

As much as I would like to stay and blog regularly on here, I have to go back home, I'm permashifting in (from the time this post went up) 7 hours, and this time I'm not staying, so refrain from asking me questions after that, I won't respond, but this post will still be up.

Farewell, I hope your shifting journey conclude today and each of you live happily in your DR, with your well deserved love, respect and peace.

Goodbye c:

(Within the 7 hours, I may be partially active, if there is any question that is truly different and a genuine struggle for you, inbox me, I'll try my best to answer; I may as well post my DR script in my last few hours, since some people asked, remind me if I forget; also not posting on reddit, ive already annoyed the mods so much by breaking several rules)

[nerdykeppie]

Holiday Shopping that fights period poverty for college students? Yep! Read on. :)

After the success of our June/Pride 2024 sales goal, where we managed to eliminate a lot of the debt we accumulated while I was unable to work earlier this year & stock up cash so we didn't have to borrow for payroll during the fall lull and also donate to @queerliblib, we were considering where to focus on this year when a conversation I had with my mom pointed me in the direction of our charity for Holidays 2024: the East Stroudsburg University Warrior Food Pantry, and specifically, stocking menstrual products at the pantry.

Without getting too much into the weeds about the details - which I'll talk about under the cut for those of you who are interested - here's the pitch: we need to hit a gross sales goal of $45K in December in order to pay our bills and payroll basically until Pride starts up. Businesses like ours are very much feast or famine, and we've got to eat and we've got people whose paychecks depend on us having the cash to pay them.

If we hit that goal, we'll donate the equivalent of 1% of our net profit from the month of December in period products -- tampons and pads, specifically, by request of the food pantry, and possibly reusable pads and menstrual cups, if the pantry wants that from us. (At the end of the day, this is about taking care of people the way they need, and we'll listen to the pantry staff about what people are requesting.)

We've currently got our Bottoms & Tops sale going, too, so you can buy 2 tops or bottoms from the linked collection & get 69% off the 3rd item from that collection.

Okay, so for the long version whys and wherefores:

My mom taught math at ESU for 35 years, and she and Dad now volunteer running the food pantry along with a couple of other people. ESU is a state school, and as such is one of the few remaining vaguely affordable schools in Pennsylvania. A lot of its students are self-supporting for one reason or another -- many are "non-traditional"/adult students, have kids, or don't have families that can support them while they go to school. Mom & Dad have pushed to expand what the food pantry offers to personal care items, which has been difficult due to a bunch of boring stuff about money and state entities and also people thinking 'that's not food,' but Mom is stubborn about it, because -- to paraphrase her -- how can you focus on class when you feel gross? This struggle has been especially difficult for menstrual products, and way more so for tampons, because it's a rather conservative area and... yeah. People get weird about it.

I've been really broke, with a young kid, and reliant on food pantries, which rarely, if ever, have any menstrual products, let alone tampons. Period poverty is very real, and it sucks.

Plus, I gotta tell you, if we can send a bunch of boxes of tampons and pads to the food pantry, well... Rumor has it this will help my mom win an argument over whether those items should be carried at all, because what are they gonna do, throw them out? They're here! They've been donated! Wasting them would be terrible. :)

So that's the pitch, guys. Help me make a direct, measurable difference in the lives of people at the school where I went to winter swim team, the school that fed me growing up... and help my mom win an argument about making people's lives better... and get your holiday shopping done while you do. ;) We start counting sales from the minute I hit post. :P

[paige05bby]

Fake it til you make it

☆ pairing: wnba!fuckgirl!Paige x Singer!reader

word  count: 1008

Summary: Whereas a first interaction means many things to famous singer, y/n y/l/n, especially those that involve a pretty well-known basketball player

"Lie to me and tell me you don't want me as much as I want you. Lie to me and tell me you don't want to press those pretty lips of yours to mine right now. Lie to me and tell me you hate me"

y/n

"Hey! I'm y/n y/l/n,, and this is the wired Autocomplete Interview!" I chuckle at a whiteboard with my name and multiple whited-out questions. "I'm scared!" I smile at the producer as I finish the first covered question: "When did y/n y/l/n get famous?" 

oh boy, 

"Straight for it, huh– loaded question!" I chuckle, looking into the camera, "Umm, I would say right after I left college— I started on YouTube and dabbled into some songwriting, then I somehow ended up here!" I smile, shrugging my shoulders before throwing the crumbled paper over my shoulder. "It seems like there are enough people like little ole me."

"Who are y/n y/l/n’s songs about?"

"That's for me to know and you to wonder." I wink at the camera. " Next?"

"Why are y/n y/l/n songs so sad"

"Because being a lesbian sucks.." I chuckle, shaking my head, “You know I didn't even notice that! I don't think I've ever written a love song before!”

"Is y/n y/l/n a basketball fan?"

"I practically grew up on it! But I never technically grew to, ya know... Play it! But yes, huge fan," I chuckle,

"What is y/n y/l/n next album about?"

"Hmmm..." I bite my lip softly before smiling at the camera, "My past, past and present?" I smirk, "Take that as it is."

I rip off the next one as a gasp, chuckling softly, "What is y/n y/l/n type?"

I roll my eyes and check the nonexistent watch on my arm, "So I think it's about time I go.." I smile, making the producers and their teams laugh behind the camera as I facepalm my forehead, softly panicking.

"well... you could never go wrong with a female athlete.. Cmon, you get the muscles and the damn uniforms– be for real," I suck my teeth, awkwardness flooding through me, "but you know what they say— I don't kiss and tell," I smirk before continuing to the next question, "and that's that on that..."

Paige

I rub my groggy eyes, which are still sore from an early morning practice. I walk through the streets of early LA morning, turning into a Starbucks.

“White mocha– shaken with brown sugar.” I nod sleepily towards the barista before slipping a ten-dollar bill and mumbling, “Keep the change.”

As I slump into a seat while my thoughts get lost in Instagram, scrolling through what model posted with what skims outfit today– Now listen, I know what you're thinking – im not what you think i am.. Im just women–

Who has needs. 

Don't take me for the relationship type of person.

My life is busy enough – let alone be able to remember a girl's name. 

I roll my eyes as my phone buzzes– “What, Alex– today isn't the day to piss me off-”

“Paige, your fucking late dude!”

“Im down the street– grabbing a coffee, gimme a break!”

“Well, your lucky she is late t-”

“Who she?”

“Paige, cmon now, get on the right, but here– your agents are setting you up with some girl to help your social standard because god knows you blew it with that stupid model you decided to sneak into your hotel during an away game…”

I groan, throwing my head back– “That was one time!”

“One time too many PB!” 

“A Venti shaken white mocha with brown sugar..” 

“Dude, fine– hope off my dick– ill be there!” I sigh before getting up to walk towards the counter, reaching out for my drink, but only before a hand grabs it before my own.

y/n

“A Venti shaken white mocha with brown sugar..”  

“Oop, that's mine! I'll meet you in the car, Carter!” I smile at my agent before walking up to the counter and grabbing my drink.

“Um, excuse me?” the voice chuckles, making me turn swiftly on my heels, “Thats mine–”

“Does it have your name on it?”

“Nothing needs my name when everyone knows it.”

I chuckled to myself. Of course, I knew who this hunk of a blonde was, and may I say she was even better looking in person than she was in her edits– but that doesn't forgive her attitude —she was practically all over the internet with the slogans “best WNBA record beater” or “who the favor of tonight with WNBA star Paige Bueckers. " She's practically the slogan child of what not to do in stardom.

I chuckle, tilting my head to the side, “Im sorry? Who are you exactly?” 

“Don't be a stupid kid—you know who I am.” She smirked, leaned against the counter, and looked down at me, her height daunting.

I shake my head, pursing my lips. " The only thing I know about you is that we have the same coffee order. Now I should be going because I have much more important things to do than talk to athletes.” I smirk before turning on my heels to walk out—only for the blonde to follow. 

“Oh, so she's a coffee thief and a liar–” She chuckles, making me stop.

“And you're officially a creep– and now coffeeless–” 

“You intolerable–”

“Sorry, I didn't know this was a competition between who's more annoying! In that case, you win... “ She huffs as both our phones ding, “saved by the bell..”

“Seems like it.” She tilts her head, smirking, “Enjoy my coffee..” 

“Oh, trust me, Bueckers– I will..”

—

“Y/N! You're here– im sorry. I know LA traffic can be terrible these days! I knew I should have gotten you another car!”

I laugh, shaking my head, “Alex, seriously, don't worry about it! I don't need an escort– I can take the regular road just like a normal person..”

“So my client– She’s a handful... Are you sure your management is okay with this?”

I nod, letting out a shaky breath as his hand reaches for the door, “If this works – then im sure they are more than okay..”

The door opens slowly before a familiar blue-eyed blonde looks up at me.

“Coffee Theif?”

“YOU?”

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗘𝗣𝗬

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt had a busy day and just wants to sleep in his lover arms.

WARNING: None.

REQUEST?: Yes, by @mymoots

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N sighed in relief after closing the door to her house, locking it before placing her set of keys on the plate next to the entrance, next to Matt's car key. The girl took off her shoes, placing them up against the wall next to Chris' sneakers, making a mental note to clean them both the next day, or ask Chris to do so.

Y/N walked to the kitchen still with her purse on her shoulder, not wanting to put it on the counter, knowing that if she did she would forget to pick it later to put it in its proper place. The girl walked to one of the cabinets and took a glass of water, filling it and drinking all the contents there, before finally going to her room, which she shared with her boyfriend.

She was excited to see Matt, after a busy day at work she always loved sitting and listening intently as he recounted everything he did alone or with his brothers from the moment he woke up, her favorite stories being about what it was filming the video that would be posted the next day, or sometimes, on that same day.

And this was one of those days, when the boys left the recording of Friday's video to be recorded exactly on Friday, which made the day busier than normal and, consequently, more tiring.

Y/N quickly arrived at the room, knocking twice on the door before carefully opening it just enough to enter, before closing it again, finding the room completely dark, only lit by the low white lights that decorated the corner of the walls.

Matt was lying on the bed, on top of the covers, face down and his face turned to the other way.

The girl placed her purse on the chair closest to the door, removing her jacket and walking lightly towards her boyfriend, not sure if he was awake or asleep, and the last thing she wanted to do was disturb him.

"Matt? Baby?" Y/N whispered, bringing her face closer to the side of Matt's head, enjoying the fresh smell of shampoo.

"Hmm?"

"Are you awake?" She continued, now bringing her face closer to his, noticing his half-open eyes and sleepy face.

"I am, I haven't slept yet, I wanted to wait for you." He responded in a low whisper filled with exhaustion.

"Oh my love, there was no need. You recorded today's video during the day and you mentioned that you were going to the market, I imagine how tired you must be." Y/N spoke back, remembering the brief text that Matt sent her right after lunch, letting her know that he was going to stop by the market to buy some items that had run out of the fridge and cupboard, and that Y/N had written in the notes on his phone as it was the closest to her at the time.

"It's okay, I like seeing your face before I sleep." Matt whispered again, turning completely around to face Y/N, smiling slightly, his eyes almost closing completely.

"I love you." The girl spoke, approaching and kissing Matt's lips, without moving them, just a seal full of love and affection.

"Hm I love you more."

"Are you hungry? I can get a quick snack." Y/N asked, pulling away.

"A little, but I miss you more than I'm hungry, so lay here with me." He responded, pulling her arm lightly.

"Are you sure, honey?" He responded with just a nod. "Alright, let me just take a shower first."

"Nooo, don't leave me here all alone." He asked slyly, raising his arms. Y/N laughed at his whole drama as his blue eyes barely opened.

"It'll be quick, I promise."

"I'll go with you." He said, getting up and almot falling, what kept him from doing it was Y/N's hands on his shoulders.

The girl shook her head, knowing that asking him to lie down again would be a losing fight, so she just guided him to the bathroom, sitting him on top of the toilet.

The girl quickly took her clothes off and discarding them in the laundry basket, before entering the shower, casting a quick glance at Matt, who was half-bent over with his eyes half closed, the side of his body resting on the counter, making her smile, he was so kind to her.

It didn't take more than ten minutes and she was already drying herself, fulfilling her promise to be quick.

"Matt, go to bed, I'm almost done here." She asked, placing her hands on the boy's cheeks and lifting his face, bending down slightly and kissing his forehead, helping him to get up and gently pushing him to the room.

As she left the bathroom, her eyes traveled to the bed, smiling when she saw Matt in a half-sitting, half-lying position, with his eyes closed and his hand off the side of the bed, as if he was ready to catch her when she climbed into the comfort of his side.

Y/N went to their closet, taking fresh panties and Matt's shirt from her side of clothes, putting them both on before walking back to bed, lightly touching Matt's hand, which made him open his eyes quickly and look around, feeling a little lost.

"I'm awake, I promise." Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes at how stubborn the brunette could be when he wanted to.

"Go a little to the side, my love." She asked, pushing him away lightly with her hands, making space for herself. "When we wake up tomorrow, I want to know everything about your day." Y/N added in a whisper, getting under the covers and placing Matt next to her, before pulling him into her arms, letting he lay his head on her chest, knowing that the sound of her heartbeat calmed him down.

"And I'll tell you everything." He spoke back slowly, placing his hand around her waist before giving up to sleep.

Y/N paused for a few seconds to just watch her boyfriend's expression soften, the tension in his body giving way to lightness, and she couldn't help but smile. There was no better place for her than in Matt's arms.

REQUEST:

[hysteria-things]

can you do another story like closer it was so good im obsessed.

MAKE UP OR MAKE OUT?

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: stopping by to give your enemy a piece of your mind doesn’t go as planned.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SUGGESTIVE, swearing, making out, ass grabbing lol

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 525

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this isn’t really like closer but also kind of is? possibly?

i was going to add onto this to make it longer and i can probably make a part two (hint hint: sub!chris, perhaps😉)

❝it’s like i’m powerful with a little bit of tender

an emotional sexual bender

mess me up, yeah, but no one does it better

there’s nothin’ better.❞

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

how the fuck did this happen? is the only thought rushing through your brain at this very moment. along with the plump pair of lips moving in sync with yours.

minutes ago you were standing on your arch nemesis's doorstep, having a screaming match about whatever it was that ticked both of you off. now you're inside of his home, pushed up against the door by his weight with his tongue down your throat; the muscle intertwining sloppily with yours. chris's body is hot against your own, causing your cheeks to flush.

brunette strands of hair feel soft between your fingers, the tips of them tugging and pulling at the rest under his hood. legs starting to give out from being on your tippy toes for a long period, chris pulls away slightly. “jump.” he whispers against your lips.

obeying his order, he grips onto your ass and massages it as your legs wrap around his waist. you whimper, this new angle making the bulge poking through his jeans rub gently against your bud. your hands roam down his neck to his chest, bunching into fists at the collar of his hoodie to pull him impossibly closer.

fogginess starts to form in your head, bliss rushing to your veins. it's getting harder to breathe, the two of you panting loudly. lewd and wet sounds fill the empty house, that alone making you needier. he bites your bottom lip before pulling away to where your noses touch.

his mouth is swollen and red, your pink lipstick smeared around it. yours doesn’t look any better. “i can't stand you.” you complain.

all he does is let out a hum, looking at your mouth and leaning into where he needs you most yet again. you're like a magnet to him. “i'm not kidding.” you continue. “god, i hate you so much.”

“good.”

diving back in, he kisses you harder than before. jesus, what's wrong with you? making out with chris was not on the agenda for today, or any day for that matter.

gasping and moaning softly into his mouth, your phone starts to ring. you take it out of your pocket and answer it without looking.

you pull back to talk. “yeah, what?”

not bothering to listen to what the voice on the other end has to say, you get in a few more kisses before pulling away abruptly. “right now?” you say into the phone, pushing the boy away so you can get back on your feet. “fine. i'll be back soon.”

clearing your throat, you try to make yourself look presentable by straightening out your clothes, wiping your mouth, and fixing your hair. “i have to go.”

a mixture of shock and confusion overcomes chris's face. “you're going to leave me like this?”

glancing down, you see the raging boner between his legs. “yup.” you nod with a smile.

grabbing your bag you've thrown on the floor in the fit of rage you had when you first got here, you walk out the door and down the steps to your car without turning back. “fuck you, y/l/n!”

“maybe next time! if you're lucky!”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @sturnlcvr @tpvmz @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello again everyone! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support for the last part of the "Merlin accidentally conquers Camelot" au! I've had so much fun writing this au, and I'm so glad that you've all enjoyed it too! This will probably be the final part of this au (for now), since I have more au ideas to share with you all, but I'll probably revisit this au some day! For now, I'm approaching two pretty big tumblr milestones, so I'm working on an extra-special au to post in celebration of those (and I won't give anything away, but I think that this new au may be my best one yet, so stay tuned)!

Also, warning, this one is a long post! Be prepared!

Now, onto part four of this au! You can find part one here, part two here, and part three here!

As it turned out, planning a royal wedding was no easy feat.

Merlin had thought that simply adding a quick and (hopefully) painless wedding ceremony at the end of his coronation would make everything go smoothly. After all, the castle would already be decorated, they'd already have all of the important lords in attendance, and everything needed for a consort's coronation ceremony would already be there.

However, when Merlin announced to the lords and the steward in charge of preparing his coronation ceremony that he'd also need a quick wedding and coronation to take Arthur as his consort, they reacted with so much shock and horror that Merlin thought for a second that he'd accidentally announced that he was ordering their executions instead. The only person in the council room who didn't look like death itself had just appeared before him was Gwaine, who took advantage of he shocked silence following Merlin's proclamation to start laughing so uncontrollably that he doubled over and had to grab the wall for support.

Merlin had expected some shock and pushback from the council at his decision, not... this. All of the lords on the council had gone as pale as parchment, some trembling in their seats with fear. What on earth...

"Sire," the ever-unflappable Geoffrey called out, jolting Merlin from his confusion at the state of terror that had gripped the other council members, "while such a marriage would not be unlawful, it would certainly be unprecedented. I'm not questioning your judgement, I know that establishing yourself as a strong ruler this early in your reign is paramount, but are you sure that this is the best way to go about it? I'm certain that the citizens of Camelot will accept you as their rightful ruler as soon as they witness their true power for themselves, so taking the former king as your war prize isn't entirely necessary to show your dominance over the land."

The lords grew several shades paler at Geoffrey's words, and the trembling councilman sitting next to Geoffrey leaned in to fearfully hiss something into the librarian's ear. Merlin watched with growing confusion as Geoffrey's eyes went wide at whatever had just been whispered to him, and he rushed to speak once more.

"Of course, if this decision was made as some form of revenge or humiliation towards the Pendragon line, that is well within your right as a conqueror, Your Majesty. We would simply advise you to take the disgraced king as a concubine, perhaps, instead of your official consort. As a ruler, you must now also consider the issue of one day producing legitimate heirs, which can only be borne to you through your consort."

Merlin blinked, desperately trying to follow whatever logic Geoffrey was using. Take Arthur as a concubine?! Had the old man gone insane?! And Merlin certainly wasn't concerned about heirs, since if he got his way, then his reign wouldn't last longer than this week!

Still, with most of the council looking like they were being plagued by waking nightmares, they weren't likely to listen to Merlin's very reasonable objections to being king in the first place, so Merlin just had to get them off his back until the wedding.

After a deep sigh, which made most of the council members flinch back with a still confusing amount of fear, Merlin addressed Geoffrey's concerns.

"Thank you for your input, but I'm afraid that my decision has already been made on this... issue. I will be taking Arthur as my consort at my coronation, and my decision is final. And don't concern yourself with the topic of heirs, that will be sorted out shortly."

Several lords choked on the air at Merlin's last comment, with a couple outright fainting at his words. Merlin's brows furrowed even more with befuddlement. What... what had he said that garnered such a reaction?! He was just telling them not to worry about it!

(Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Merlin, the lords had a very different idea of what their new king- a powerful, brutal warlord and sorcerer- had planned. They interpreted Merlin's intent to marry Arthur as an act of revenge against the son of the man who killed off so many of his people during the purge. It apparently wasn't enough for the mighty Emrys to defeat his enemy and leave him with nothing to his name. No, this ruthless new king of theirs planned on forcing the former king into a life of humiliation and servitude in the court that was once his own. To a king, that must be a fate worse than death.

These lords, who were some of the most active and complicit members of Uther's purge, looked at the punishment that Emrys had planned for Arthur and thought if that's what happened to the king, what's he going to do to us?!)

The days went by quickly after that meeting, with Merlin's time being filled with a never-ending list of his new duties and things that needed to be done before his coronation, not to mention organizing the coronation itself and the subsequent wedding (which Arthur didn't know about yet, as Merlin had been deliberately avoiding the dungeons after his last conversation with Arthur).

It took the better part of a week for everything to finally be prepared for the official coronation ceremony. The ceremony itself would consist of Merlin being crowned in front of the court (a nauseating thought for Merlin himself), the vassal lords and knights willing to swear fealty to him taking the oath of loyalty, and finally Arthur being handfasted to Merlin and crowned consort.

Merlin was, for once, thankful for the amount of work that he had to do over the days leading up to the ceremony, as it kept his mind busy and his thoughts away from the pit of self-loathing that had taken up permanent residence in his head. After all, what kind of friend stole everything from the person they love the most in the world and then turns around and forces that same friend (and unrequited crush) to marry them?!

Merlin had attempted to rationalize his selfish decision to keep Arthur in the dark regarding his plan to reinstate him as king by telling himself that if Arthur didn't know about the wedding until the last minute, then he would spend less time worrying about it in the long run after he was king again! Besides, if Merlin's plan worked, they would only be married for a day or two, so there was no reason to get Arthur worked up over that by telling him earlier!

Truly, Merlin was not being a complete scumbag by doing this, he was just looking out for his friend's best interests and mental wellbeing! This would all blow over in a a matter of days anyways, Merlin was certain of it.

Still, Merlin found himself anxious and pacing the floor of his room on the morning of the ceremony. He had sent a team of servants and guards to retrieve Arthur from his cell and prepare him for the ceremony, so he likely wouldn't see Arthur until he was brought into the great hall for the handfasting ceremony. However, he still worried over Arthur's reaction when he learned what exactly when was being prepared for.

This worry lingered in Merlin's mind and consumed his thoughts throughout the entire day and into the coronation ceremony, so much so that his own coronation seemed like a blur to him. One moment he was standing in the great hall in front of the assembled crowd of lords and knights, and in the next, he was sitting on Arthur's throne with Arthur's crown on his head, with the crowd shouting "long live the king".

The sound of it almost made Merlin sick. Those words should never be directed at him, but he'd make this right soon enough. He just had to suffer through this ceremony to appease those disloyal lords who had turned their backs on their true king.

Perhaps the worst part of the coronation itself was the ceremony in which the lords and knights willing to pledge their fealty to him took an oath declaring such. It was no surprise to Merlin to see those weasels on the council of lords pledging themselves to save their own skin, but the knights who showed up to pledge their fealty were... very unexpected.

Look, Merlin had assumed that it would just be Gwaine and a small handful of guards and younger knights that he had roped into his mischievous scheme swearing loyalty so him. All of the other knights with their wits intact would surely still be down in the cells of the dungeon, holding true to their prior oaths of loyalty and keeping their true king company.

What Merlin did not expect, however, was for nearly a quarter of all of Camelot's knights to take a knee before him and pledge their loyalty, led by a highly amused Gwaine, who was no doubt enjoying every minute of this. Merlin quickly scanned the crowd of knights, trying to take count of who all had turned their backs on Arthur and could no longer be trusted.

Gwaine, of course, came at no surprise. Many of those assembled were commoner knights whom Arthur had taken in, including Percival, but the giant regularly got pulled into Gwaine's nonsense, so this wasn't truly that much of a shock if Merlin thought about it. There were a fair number of noble-born knights in the crowd, including all of those whom Merlin had noted had a softer outlook on magic. And then, of course, there were a decent number of pompous, high-born knights who had never given a lick about magic or loyalty, they just wanted to preserve their own wealth and power no matter the cost.

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the cluster of those knights. All the rest had logical reasons to side with Merlin, between Gwaine's persuasiveness, solidarity between the lower class, or a connection or sympathy towards magic, so they would be allowed to stay in court after Arthur had retaken his rightful throne. But these knights? These cowardly snakes had to be dealt with at the first opportunity. But how could he get rid of them without people becoming suspicious?

... Wait a minute, Merlin was king now! He might only have that title for a day or so, but in that time, he could certainly use it! (And he absolutely was not using this as a tactic to prolong this part of the ceremony so that he had a few more minutes of peace before the wedding began.)

Right, but how was he going to play this? He couldn't exactly just announce that he wanted those knights to leave because he wanted them gone before Arthur took over again.

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the group of treacherous knights and noted how they squirmed a bit under his gaze, with even some of the people around them shuddering. Right, he looked like a ruthless and powerful sorcerer to them now. He could use that to his advantage.

As the knights finished reciting their oaths, Merlin held up his hand, signaling for them to stay in place. The knights did so, but a confused and concerned murmuring started buzzing around at this strange departure from the normal ceremony. Slowly, Merlin lifted his hand and pointed at the assembled group of knights in the back.

"You lot. In the back."

The murmuring died down the instant Merlin opened his mouth and was instead replaced by an oppressive dread weighing down the ornately decorated hall. If Merlin wasn't trying so hard to keep a straight, intimidating face, he would have winced at causing such a wave of fear with nothing more than a few words.

Hesitantly, one of the called out knights stepped forward, addressing their new king.

"Yes, your majesty? Is there something you require of us?"

Merlin held back the urge to smirk as an idea, and a very satisfying one at that, formed in his head. He quietly cleared his throat and put on his most imperious "Emrys" voice that he could muster.

"I can sense insincerity in your hearts with my magic. Just as you abandoned the previous king, you would also turn your backs on me at the first opportunity to do so. Do not even attempt to deny it, you know just as well as I do that this true. I cannot trust any such men as knights of mine."

The group of knights went pale as Merlin called them out for their flimsy loyalty, and at once whispers began fly in the crowd. Perhaps they were intrigued by this show of his "powers"? Were they scandalized by this public shaming of a group of high-ranking knights?

Either way, the knights immediately began groveling, begging Merlin to let them keep their positions, their wealth, their power, but Merlin dismissed them with a wave of a hand and publicly revoked their knighthoods. The murmuring of the remaining people in the great hall grew louder as the disgraced former knights made their way out of the hall, no doubt intimidated and scandalized by how quickly their new ruler was purging his court of the disloyal.

However, with the loyal knights having taken their oaths and the untrustworthy ones having been cast out, the coronation ceremony was now officially complete, meaning that Merlin could no longer stall what would come next.

Merlin sat still on his stolen throne, trying his best not to fidget with nervousness as Geoffrey gave some traditional speech that had to be done before the doors of the great hall opened to let consort walk down the aisle to the throne.

After a couple minutes, Geoffrey's monotonous voice became nothing but a buzzing in Merlin's ears as he stared at the doors of the hall, desperately trying to imagine any scenario where those doors wouldn't open to an Arthur who was filled with nothing but rage and betrayal.

All too soon, Geoffrey's droning speech ended, and the trumpets in the hall announced the arrival of the soon-to-be-consort and signaled for everyone of lower rank to stand. Merlin's heart leapt to his throat as he jumped to his feet, even though he was the only person in the room who didn't need to. Ever so slowly, the doors to the hall swung open, revealing... Arthur.

Merlin damn near choked on his own saliva at the sight of him. He had seen Arthur in a wide range of states over the years as his manservant, ranging anywhere from sleep-rumbled to solemnly prepared for battle. But this... he had never seen anything like it.

Merlin couldn't decide if whoever had been in charge of dressing Arthur and preparing him for the ceremony ought to either be promoted to Arthur's personal tailor or immediately banished. In place of Arthur's usual surcoat and chainmail for official ceremonies, which was what Merlin had foolishly assumed the servants would dress Arthur in, there was... a monstrosity that would haunt Merlin's dreams for the rest of his life.

Merlin didn't even know how to begin to describe it. The garment that the servants had no doubt forced Arthur into, as Merlin knew that he would never wear such a thing of his own accord, was somewhere between a set of intricately intertwined robes and a dress, which hugged Arthur's shoulders, upper arms, and thighs, highlighting the muscles there. Most of the outfit appeared to be made out of a rich velvet, dyed in a majestic royal blue that both looked entirely out of place on Arthur and brought out his eyes like nothing Merlin had ever seen before. And dear gods, was that lace on there?! And why the hell did the outfit need elbow-length lace gloves?!

(The servants who had been in charge of dressing Arthur for the ceremony had assumed that their brutal new warlord would probably want his war prize to look as far from a warrior as possible, in order to further prove that he had beaten the previous rulers. So, they selected a delicate and elegant outfit for Arthur in the hopes of appeasing their new king.)

Merlin swallowed dryly as Arthur slowly began making his way down the aisle with measured footsteps. The movement snapped Merlin out of whatever temporary madness the outfit had sent him spiraling into, and Merlin finally locked eyes with Arthur.

Merlin winced at the sheer amount of rage that Arthur managed to fit into one glare as he took another step towards the throne that was rightfully his. Merlin tried to give Arthur his most reassuring smile, but he was almost certain it only came across as a nervous grimace.

Just go along with this, Merlin tried to beg of Arthur with only his eyes. Their bond had always been one that allowed them to communicate without words, and Merlin prayed that their connection would hold strong once more and get his message across to Arthur.

Neither Arthur's impressive glare nor his furious scowl let up though, but he kept his pace towards the throne steady, which Merlin decided to take as a good sign. After all, if Arthur truly did not any merit to this impromptu plan, why would he still be walking of his own accord towards the altar?

Still, as Arthur grew closer and closer to the altar prepared for the handfasting, his eyes became darker with rage as Merlin winced. Yes, this would certainly be harder than it needed to be, but this had to be done to get Arthur back on the throne! Surely Arthur would understand that!

After what must have been an eternity, Arthur finally reached the altar and, ever so slowly, walked around to stand at a fidgeting Merlin's side.

As Geoffrey began yet another speech that had to be done before the handfasting took place, Merlin quietly turned to Arthur and gave him a small smile, trying to a least let Arthur know that everything was alright, that everything would turn out fine.

That little smile, it seemed, turned out to be the final straw for Arthur. Merlin wasn't even entirely sure how it happened.

One moment, he was standing next to Arthur in front of the altar, with the only sound in the room being Geoffrey's boring voice. And in the next, there was a savage war cry coming from Arthur, who was now armed with a sword, and a decent amount of screaming coming from the crowd.

It spoke volumes about Merlin's state of mind that his first thought upon seeing Arthur run at him with a blade in hand wasn't get back, dodge! but was rather that dress is tight, where on earth did he hide that sword?

However, Merlin's sense of self-preservation wasn't nearly as terrible as Gaius accused it of being, as his second thought was I should probably try to avoid getting stabbed at my own wedding.

Reluctantly, Merlin gathered his magic, ready to disarm Arthur and hold him still if need be. Arthur could stab Merlin later if he really felt like it, but Merlin needed to at least officially make Arthur his consort and heir before Arthur did that!

However, to Merlin's surprise, rather than trying to run Merlin through, Arthur instead stabbed at the wooden handfasting altar, sinking his blade deep into it. Merlin carefully kept his eyes on Arthur as the other man viciously pulled off one of the dainty lace gloves and threw it on the ground at Merlin's feet.

Dumbfounded, Merlin stared at the thrown glove on the floor and then looked back up to stare at Arthur, not quite getting what Arthur was trying to tell him here. Did he just really hate the outfit? Or was it this whole marriage plan that he objected to?

"Pick it up."

"Huh?"

Arthur nearly started growling, his rage apparently rising with Merlin's confusion.

"It may not be a proper gauntlet, since you have denied me such a dignity, but it will suffice for this. Pick it up, King Emrys. I challenge you to a duel in single combat for the throne of Camelot. You may have defeated my sister, but you did not defeat me! I am no prize for you to claim!"

Merlin simply blinked, completely thrown off by this turn of events, while loud shouts started erupting from the crowd. By the time his mind caught up to what Arthur had said, Arthur had taken up his sword from where he had struck it into the altar and was pointing it threateningly at Merlin again.

As Merlin's shock wore off and he finally understood what exactly Arthur had just done, he had to fight back the urge to scream into the sky with frustration as yet another one of his plans to reinstate Arthur as king had just been ruined by the obstinate clotpole himself. Couldn't the prat just let Merlin help?!

With his frustration rising, Merlin glared down at the thrown glove. While a duel would certainly allow Arthur to retake the throne, Merlin wasn't entirely sure how his magic would react to such a fight. Merlin would never consciously hurt Arthur of course, but who knows if his magic would strike out in self-defense?!

And, besides, formally accepting and preparing the duel would take days. And, in Merlin's opinion, this whole farce has gone on for long enough.

"No. I will not accept your challenge."

Arthur's face went red with anger at Merlin's refusal.

"You are just as much of a coward as the rest of your kind, sorcerer! You would not even grant me the opportunity to take back what's mine!"

Merlin bit back a frustrated scream at that. Arthur would be getting his throne back if he just followed through with any of Merlin's plans instead of ruining threm!

Merlin took a deep breath and sighed on the exhale, trying the rein in his own anger. He just needed to go through with this ceremony, and then everything would be fine.

With a quick flash of gold in his eyes, which had Arthur flinching back (and didn't that just sting?), Merlin turned Arthur's blade into dust had Arthur's glove fly back onto his hand, setting everything right as it had been before Arthur had pulled out a sword and all hell had broken loose.

"That's enough! I've been trying to restore you to your rightful position as king this entire time, and yet you push back at every opportunity! I am not about to let you sabotage your own destiny! So, here's what's going to happen!"

Distantly, Merlin heard the wind outside whipping around, like his own frustration and stirred nature itself into a frenzy.

"You are going to stand here, complete this ceremony, be named my heir, and then retake your throne when I abdicate! Are we clear?"

Arthur, who still looked rather shaken at Merlin's display of magic, scowled, but still nodded his head. Merlin, satisfied by this, turned back around to face the shocked crowd.

"And do I make myself clear to all of you?! There will be no more interruptions of this ceremony, and Arthur will take back his throne!"

The frightened crowd went silent at Merlin's outburst, seemingly relenting to Merlin's demands.

Merlin then turned to Geoffrey, who was still standing in front of the handfasting altar with the rope in his hands.

"Now, Geoffrey, I would greatly appreciate it if you would get a move on here. I don't want to wear this stupid crown for any longer than I have to."

The only indication that Geoffrey gave that he was surprised by Merlin's outburst was a mere uptake of his eyebrows, rather reminiscent of Gaius's signature look. Without further ado, Geoffrey tied Merlin and Arthur's hands together, declaring them to be now married in the eyes of the gods of the Old Religion.

(Merlin tried to ignore the hurt and longing that built up in his heart in that moment. How many times had he dreamed of something like this? But he never wanted it to happen like this. This was Merlin's dream come true, but it was all wrong. In that moment, Merlin didn't dare look at Arthur, too afraid of what his dearest friend thought about this grievous overstep of boundaries.)

Immediately after Geoffrey untied the handfasting knot, Arthur's coronation as consort began. The ceremony itself went smoothly, but Merlin's heart broke both at the sight of Arthur kneeling before him, waiting to be crowned, and at the furious glare Arthur gave him as he gently put the consort's crown upon Arthur's head, officially naming Arthur as his heir.

As soon as Arthur stood from where he was kneeling, applause broke out from the crowd. Someone (Merlin heavily suspected Gwaine) started a chant of "long live the kings!", which caught on quickly. Merlin winced again at the chant, not daring to turn and look at Arthur's face.

Still, Merlin reminded himself as he took a deep, calming breath, everything was coming along. Arthur was now officially his consort and heir, and all that was left to do... was the copious amounts of paperwork finalizing his abdication.

Yeah, no. Merlin wasn't going through that process when he could just take care of it here and now.

"Citizens of Camelot, on this most joyous day, I, King Emrys, abdicate the throne!"

Even though he had made his intentions clear only a few minutes earlier, shocked whispers flew around the crowd, like they hadn't truly believed that he would go through with it.

Merlin couldn't help the grin that was forming on his face. Finally, everything would be set right again!

"I am no longer your king, and as per the laws of the kingdom, the throne now rightfully belongs to your true king, Arthur Pendragon!"

With that, Merlin reached up and yanked the crown off of his own head, marched over to a dumbfounded Arthur and, without any hesitation, replaced the consort's crown on Arthur's head with the true crown.

"There, that's much better," Merlin whispered to himself as he gazed upon Arthur, finally looking like himself again, but he was certain that Arthur must have heard it too, as Arthur's eyes went wide at his words.

But that was a conversation for another day, as Merlin was now done here. This entire calamity was over, and now Merlin was going to savor its end.

Merlin turned back to face the crowd once more with an undoubtedly crazed grin.

"Goodnight everyone! Be sure to obey your true king! In the meanwhile, I'm off to bed for my first full night's rest since this nightmare started!"

And with that, Merlin merrily skipped out of the great hall, made his way to his cramped room in Gaius's chambers, and slept soundly.

Bonus Scene!

THE NEXT DAY:

Arthur: Busts into Merlin's room

Merlin, unwillingly woken up from the best sleep he's gotten in years: Ugh, what do you want you prat?! You're king again, aren't you?! Don't you have kingly duty to be attending to?

Arthur: Merlin you idiot, you abdicated the throne.

Merlin: Yes, and now you're king again. You're welcome!

Arthur: But you never dissolved our union!

Merlin: Huh?

Arthur: A divorce can only be granted by the same ruler who authorized the marriage! You know what this means, right?!

Merlin: Yeah, that you can just declare us to be not married anymore and we can all be on our way.

Arthur: No, YOU were the ruler who authorized the marriage, and now that you've abdicated, you can't dissolve the marriage! Legally, no one can!

Merlin, turning pale: What?

Arthur, looking weary: Yes, apparently it's some legal technicality that Geoffrey cited from Bruta's code. I've spent all morning arguing with him, but there seems to be no way around it.

Merlin: So... what you're saying is that we're stuck being married to each other.

Arthur: Yes, you buffoon, that's exactly what I'm saying! Now, get up!

Merlin, feeling incredibly guilty over this entire situation: Arthur, I'm so sorry, I take full responsibility for this, I never should have forced you into-

Arthur, cutting him off: Let's go. We don't have much time before the rest of the castle is up and about, and I'd rather us not be seen here.

Merlin, confused but complying: Arthur, where are we going? Why don't you want us to be seen here?

Arthur, blushing: It would reflect poorly on the king if word got out that he let his consort sleep in this dirty broom closet on their wedding night, wouldn't it?

Merlin, blushing: Ah, I suppose it would.

And that's a wrap for this au for now! I hope you've all enjoyed this story!

A huge thank you for everyone who asked for this continuation! (and holy cow there were a lot of you!! Thank you all so much!)

@magic-mushroomss @miyriu @whole-buncha-snakess @achillesuwu @aerismoon

@tidalwavesandthunderstorms @marki9 @isaidno @retro-wallflower @samwinjester

@lascienzadellafantasia @sugar-coated-prat-dragon @theoldfroglady @ryeallytired @mind-of-a-crow

@whynotreinventmyselfeveryday @likeapaperplane @odinjm @orliththedragon @aglmry

@caraspud @aostrek-236 @justaz @slippysalt @coffee-shop-gay

@the-king-and-the-druidess @theroundbartable @fanfic-library-for-me @linotheghost @scuttlingsleipnir

@guiltyscarlet @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu @247merthur @veryroadpartystatesman-blog @verxen

@lascienzadellafantasia @jareicanon @arrowlovesdragons @juliairian @thesuperstitiousoldelf

@lovermyme @bootprivileges @rem-the-moth @hippielittlemetalhead @ole-to-you-nonetheless

@lordmushroomkat @starchaos01 @reynaharmonia @anastasia0614 @starlight-crow

@wheneverfeasible @savlikesbluengreen @fuckingdeadinsidetm @notquitehumanwrites @purplesandwichtiger

@rocks-d-xerxes @olli-is-a-fish @luluzealand2565 @dangerhumming @tireddruid

@spiralingtowardtheabyss @mundaneone @anxiousdragoncollector @catface233 @bennedict

@elementalpirate4 @bertolio @vadis-protenus @chaosofbelievers @floating-on-avalon

@merthurogies @justaz

And, as always, thank you all for reading through my ramblings! :D

I'll see you all next time!

[theshiftingwitch]

The Shifting Challenge:

✨Reprogram your subconscious mind in 21 days✨

Disclaimer: as you read this, whether you decide to participate in the challenge or not, know that you do not need anything to shift. You do not need methods, subliminals, routines... Nothing outside of you can make you shift.

Hello shifters, and welcome to the shifting witch's first reality shifting challenge! If you're reading this, that means you have been on your shifting journey for quite a while. Congratulations, most people don't even know about shifting, so you're already doing great!

Now, the most common thing I see in my asks, or posts here on Tumblr, is shifters wondering why it hasn't worked for them yet, and how they can finally shift for longer than a few seconds. Well, that's because of your subconscious mind.

Let me paint you a picture: for 16-17-18-19-20 ... Years of your life, you didn't know about reality shifting. Then you learned about it and filled that pretty head of yours with an abundance of misinformation, doing anything and everything to shift.

It didn't work, did it?

I can help with that!

First of all, according to the law of assumption, the second you decided to shift, you did. You already shifted, it is done. But your 3D is not conforming, and you feel discouraged, and you're on the verge of giving up.

Try this first:

Step one: reprogram your mind:

Research shows that it takes between 20 to 30 days to reprogram an unconscious belief and switch it around. So for the next 21 nights, listen to this Subliminal before you fall asleep. I designed it specifically to rewire your brain and instill in it the belief that you are the most powerful shifter in the world. It is filled with affirmations to reprogram your subconscious and to convince it that you have already shifted multiple times already.

Step 2: Act as if

Every day when you wake up, act as if you have shifted. You're not in your CR room, you're in your DR. You're not having breakfast alone, you're surrounded by your DR friends. You're not going to school, you're at Hogwarts, taking magic lessons. Act as if.

Step 3: journal

So you've spent the day in your DR, how wonderful! What did you do? How did you feel? Any stories you have to share? Journal out your day from the point of view of your DR self, talk about the life you've lived, because guess what? You did live it. Imagination is the true reality.

Step 4: You have shifted

Congratulations! It's all done! You have shifted to your desired reality every single time you tried. How does it feel to be such a powerful shifter? Amazing right?

The point of this challenge is to convince your brain that you have shifted already, because you have. With these tools, you're turning shifting into a fact of life, something you have been doing for eons, your second nature.

Remember, only you can make you shift (and you already have).

Good luck on your shifting journey, and I'll see you back here in 21 days with your success stories ❤️