#once in a blue moon perhaps

[maxiemumdamage]

going through my own docs and reading my WIPs is simultaneously validating and crushing. like, wow, I love this author! everything they write is exactly to my taste!

I wonder how long until the next update…

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

posting this with absolutely no context

[filbosstalker]

3 am doodle dump idk I kinda blacked out tbh

Ok goodnight chat 🫡🫡

[canisalbus]

thinking about the time I showed my friend your blog but they were flash banged with gay dogs kissing and I had to explain that it was only gay dogs, but not too much gay dogs kissing 😔

.

[oswaldthatendswald]

Heyyyyyyy anyone got any book recommendations for fans of The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells, The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir, and What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher? (Current favorite books/series) (I'm going to be travelling a lot the next two weeks and I'm trying to find some new books)

[suddencolds]

~

[rosesradio]

for the record the only people i feel bad for when ao3 goes down are my fellow authors finally about to put out a chapter or readers trying to read one of my fics god bless 🙏

[asymphonyofstarlight]

am i making sims of fictional characters instead of sleeping. Yes. 🗿

[eternalspawn]

and if my tav exists as a secondary muse in a tiny little corner of this blog without any indication as to her existence, what then?

[tea-cake-and-sarcasm]

The idea of me reading this and fully understanding that joke is insane, like the entire meaning of that post was changed in 4 words, but only to one fandom. I wonder what the victorian equivalent of this would be lmao

I literally don't know where I was going with this but there was something here I wanted to say and I think I kind of maybe got it across

The neurodivergent urge to do this

[wriokitty]

YOU CRACK ME UPPPPPP IM SO DEAD ☠️☠️☠️

Why don’t you drink my tears next since you seem to be so fulfilled by my misery 🥲

[dollishmehrayan]

# “WOULD YOU DO ANYTHING FOR ME?, BUY A BIG DIAMOND RING FOR ME?” ── .✦ ( how batboys act when they’re engaged w reader )

dollish note ౨ৎ: I lowkey crashed out over losing Americans on tiktok but this woke up to post on tumblr but hey, also can we talk about how trump used that as a pr stunt && thought we wouldn’t notice wtf like omgg the way many americans caught on, alsoo please leave some motivation for me because I just kinda lost motivation for this app after the tiktok thingy went down 🫠 tags: (batboys x engaged!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Over the moon and not afraid to show it. Dick tells everyone the second you say yes. Alfred? He knows. Random stranger in the grocery store? The metro security guy?, Yep, they know too. He’s got that goofy, lovestruck grin plastered on his face 24/7.

Wedding planning enthusiast. You thought you’d do most of the planning? Wrong. Dick’s fully invested, showing you Pinterest boards of venues, color schemes, and “Do you think Nightwing blue (dollish note: I think ‘#3366CC’ perhaps?) would be tacky for the napkins?”

Gets sappy at random times. You’ll catch him staring at you with a dreamy look, and when you ask why, he just shrugs. “I’m just thinking about how lucky I am.”, “Dick calm down you only proposed like 2 weeks ago.”

Brags to the Batfam constantly. “Guys, I’m going to be a husband! Can you believe it? Me! Richard Grayson!” Bruce pretends to be joyful a bit but he’s done hearing it for the 777x time but even he cracks a small smile when Dick won’t shut up about you.

Practices saying his vows in the mirror. You walked in on him once, and he was mortified. “Okay, but you didn’t hear the good part yet!”, “You literally finished the whole paper !!”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Acts like it’s not a big deal, but it’s huge for him. He’ll play it cool at first, saying something like, “It’s just a ring, babe.” But deep down, he’s nervous, excited, and trying not to let it show.

Keeps the engagement low-key. Jason’s not one for flashy announcements or grand gestures. He wants this to be something special between you two, not the whole world.

Protective x10. Now that you’re officially going to be his spouse, Jason is extra watchful. He’s already looking into ways to keep you safe and makes sure you’re never caught in the crossfire of his vigilante life.

Wants you to be 100% comfortable. He checks in with you constantly about the wedding plans. “We don’t have to do anything big, okay? Just say the word, and it’s done.” He’ll let you take the lead but secretly loves when you include him.

Teases you with the whole “fiancé” thing. “Hey, fiancée. Can you grab my coffee? Oh, did I mention you’re my fiancée now?” It’s his way of hiding how excited he really is.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Nervous wreck but totally in love. Tim overthinks everything after proposing. Did he pick the right ring? Did he say the right words? Is he even ready to be a husband? But every time he sees you smile, it calms him down.

Keeps it practical. Tim doesn’t want a huge engagement party or a grand wedding. He’s more focused on what your future together will look like your shared goals, finances, and making sure you’re both on the same page.

Researches marriage like it’s a mission. He has books on successful relationships, listens to podcasts, and even makes a checklist for wedding planning. You find it adorable when he starts using color coded spreadsheets.

Loves when you call him your fiancé. The first time you said it, he blushed so hard he had to look away. Now he’s low-key obsessed with hearing it. “You don’t have to keep calling me that… but don’t stop either.”

Gets emotional when he thinks about the future. You once caught him staring at the engagement ring on your finger, looking teary-eyed. When you asked what was wrong, he said, “I just can’t believe you’re actually mine.” (I would’ve smacked the shit out of him for that, I don’t do romance 🙄💪)

[imlayingonthefloorandcrying]

Am i the only one who feels like a new user even though I've had tumblr for years

Like, 3~4 years now and I'm pretty sure I'm still using it wrong

[entitled-fangirl]

I promise everything.

Cregan Stark x Targaryen!wife!reader

Summary: the two have been married for months. When attending Aegon and Helaena’s wedding, the reader becomes self conscious on why they don’t have children yet.

Warnings: talks of sex

Masterlist

………………………………

Cregan cracked open the door slowly as he walked in, "My love, are you…"

His question died off from his lips as his eyes took in what laid in the room.

His wife, the younger twin of Aegon II, stood tall as her handmaiden finished tying the dress she wore. A noble blue hue to it, a perfect symbol of house Stark at a Targaryen wedding. The color did something to him inside.

She managed eye contact with him through the mirror and frowned, "Am I what?"

He bit his lip for a moment with a furrowed brow before doing a small shrug, "Uh. It's alright. Take your time."

She smiled and let out a soft laugh.

The handmaiden was soon finished and excused herself.

Y/n turned around to finally look fully at Cregan. Her eyes moved up and down his body, "You look rather dashing."

Now far from the north, Cregan had to abandon his fur cloak, leaving him in his dark tunic, blue surcoat and the Wolf sigil embroidered across the chest. Now his broad shoulders were quite displayed, as well as his fit physique that was usually up to imagination. He smiled at her, "And you…"

Her brows pulled together for just a moment, "What?" She turned to the mirror, "Is something amiss?"

He quickly held his hands up to reassure her, "No, my dear. I only meant that… I… I am utterly speechless is all."

She looked back to him with a grin, "Ah. And here I thought you wouldn't like it."

"You believed I wouldn't?" He asked as he rested his hands on her hips. "How could I not enjoy the sight of my wife dressed as a wolf in the midst of dragons?"

She chuckled as her hands moved to his chest, "I am entirely a wolf now, Cregan."

He grinned widely, "That's the best part." He leaned in a trailed kisses down her jaw, "Perhaps I'll get to enjoy you dressed in nothing by the end of the night."

…

Due to the convenience of having the two Targaryen siblings marrying themselves, the entire family fit at the high table, Y/n and Cregan towards the end.

Next to her younger brother Aemond, the two quiet siblings whispered to one another in discussion, including Cregan when he wasn't distracted by the over-the-top atmosphere.

Aemond was a fair brother to her, closer now during this age than her own twin or sister had ever been. "I suppose you're now stuck horse-riding without me around?"

The two had once shared in their lack of dragon. When Aemond claimed Vhagar, he made a vow to not abandon his sister so quickly in her endeavors, letting her ride Vhagar with him when she had needed outside of the keep.

The North had nothing of the sort, and leaving had been hard.

She nodded, "Yes, but Cregan gifted me the most wonderful horse. We ride quite often, weather permitting."

Aemond hummed, "You'll have to take a break from riding soon, I'd wager."

She frowned, "Why ever would I do that?"

"It's not healthy to do while with child."

"Well," she bit back sarcasm, "I am not with child. I have time."

"You've been married for nearly eleven moons. Most are with child by the third."

"I am not most, am I, brother?"

Noticing her bitter tone, he hummed and changed topics. He leaned over to look to Cregan, "My lord, do tell me what horse you've gifted my sister."

Cregan's expression immediately brightened at the topic of something he knew quite well, "A fjord horse. Not a runner by any means but a reliable one when…"

She zoned out from there, staring absent-mindedly at the dance floor.

Perhaps Aemond was right. Should she be with child by now?

Had she done something wrong? What if she was unable to have children? Would Cregan abandon her?

She looked to Aegon and Helaena dancing. Smiling at one another.

What if her own siblings had children before she did? How weak of a Targaryen does that make her?

"Admiring the dancing?" Cregan's voice suddenly murmured near her.

She turned her head to him, seeing his worried expression studying her.

How long had their conversation been over and she'd just been staring off in the distance?

"Is everything alright, my girl?"

She smoothed a hair back behind her ear, "I'm only lost in thought is all."

He grunted in acknowledgement. "A dangerous place to be." He tilted his head, "Wanna talk about it?'

"Not really."

He nodded but made no motion to move. He knew her quite well by now and knew she would soon-

"Why am I not with child?"

He knew she'd state her thoughts, but he didn't consider it to be that one. He frowned, "I don't suppose I have an answer."

She leaned back as the next song started, "Do you think less of me for it?"

His head tilted again like a dog hearing an uncomfortable tone, "Do I… No. No, I do not."

"I just don't understand why then."

"Darling, the gods will grant a child to us when they deem the time fit. Please do not let a thought like this ruin the celebration."

She nodded and sniffled lightly, pushing back the tears in her waterline. "You're right. What a foolish thing to stress over."

He let out a content sigh, happy with her answer. When silence loomed over the two, he watched Aegon and Helaena dance. A thought popped into the Northerner's head, and he leaned towards her again, "Perhaps we can imagine no time has passed at all."

Her face turned contemplative, "How so?"

"Perhaps," he whispered, "Tonight can be just like our wedding night."

"I'm listening."

But Cregan Stark is a man of action. He stood abruptly and held out his hand. "May I have the honor of a dance with my perfect wife?"

She grinned, trying to ignore the stares of her family and the people. She whispered, "You hate to dance."

"Aye, but I love to please you more."

Her cheeks flushed, but she took his hand and let him lead her to the floor as the next song started.

As a high lord, Cregan had been taught all of the dances. But he was no real dancer. He preferred the dance of battle than one in a ballroom. How he managed to get by for one and twenty years with only a single dance with his wife, he's unsure of. He only hoped not to embarrass her this second time.

His steps were heavy compared to her light ones. His moves, though carefully calculated, were clumsy compared to her precise ones done without a second thought. His eyes had to double check every step and move. He was sure she did it with her eyes closed.

Though nervous, a smile was plain and broad across his features.

She could feel his nerves radiate off of him in comforting waves, a reassurance to her that he would face his greatest fears for her. Not dragon fire. A dance floor. And he did so happily.

When the dance finished, he couldn't stop himself and planted a heavy kiss to her lips. He didn't care who saw. This was his wife. She was his, and he was hers.

"Let us retire," she panted against his lips.

His grin continued. "Yes, my lady."

…

Once away from the crowd, their lips moved in tandem, pausing against various pillars and walls to breathe each other in.

"Please put a child in me, Cregan."

He let out a loud groan against her lips at her words. "I will," he whispered.

He tried to move his mouth back to hers and she pulled hers away, making him chase hers. He let out a breathy plea, "I will."

Her fingers came up, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip, "Promise me?"

"I promise. I'll do whatever it takes, my girl. I'll give you a baby, I promise." He leaned in, only to be denied her again. His voice softened, "I promise everything."

She leaned in just a bit, "Take me like you did on our wedding night."

He picked her up, slamming their chamber door behind him.

…

Needless to say, about nine months later, a babe laid in Cregan's arms as he sat next to his exhausted wife.

There never was a Stark who forgot an oath.

………………………………….

Cregan Stark taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, @8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Arranged Marriage, Stalking, Forced Kiss

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You had thought for years that the prophecy wouldn't be true. It hung over your head like a crimson moon, equal parts beautiful and haunting, words lingering on your lips like a young lover.

As decreed by the Mnestia long ago, Kephale would one day take up a lover who would wield witticisms and words as weapons forged in an ever-burning mind. At the time, it had seemed preposterous that a Titan, much less Kephale, would take up a lover. If not for a servant scribbling those utterances down and telling his children, who told their own children, who told their children, so on and so forth, the prophecy would have been lost to time.

If it had, would you still be in this predicament?

The first time you had heard of the prophecy when studying poets of old, you had brushed it aside as a simple legend. Kephale had already laid down a prophecy of his own by this time of how new heroes would soon conquer Coreflames to inherit the Titans' divinities, but you knew none of the Chrysos Heirs.

After a period of study, you soon began to craft your own verses. You much preferred the solitude of your home to the bustling crowds of the city, so you didn't hear how quickly your works began to gain popularity. Bards had a new repertoire to learn, and schemes and conceits never once imagined flowed through the air.

When one of the Chrysos Heirs himself began knocking on your door every day, demanding your attention, you realized your popularity had shattered any preconceived zeniths. Phainon was his name, he said, and from what he had heard of you, he was enchanted. The look in his eyes was such a hazy, skylit blue, it seemed like he truly had been the victim of some bizarre spell.

Every day he came and encroached more and more upon you and your home. At first, he stayed outside of your door, but eventually, he began to barge in, sitting at your table or searching amongst your shelves for any subjects he could strike a conversation with you on.

Despite his idiosyncrasies and his forthright behavior, despite the occasional memory igniting in your mind, reminding you of the prophecy, you didn't worry about it. Phainon had told you many times how he longed to take the Coreflame of Nikador, not Kephale. When word spread through Okhema over Nikador's defeat, whatever lingering doubts seemed to be extinguished. You were fine. The prophecy wasn't true, or perhaps it was meant for another Chrysos Heir, another poet.

Weeks later, you found yourself regretting your assuredness. It started, as many no-good things did, with a knock on your door. As you begrudgingly walked to open it, expecting to see perhaps a bard or a fool, you instead were greeted by Phainon. Despite the weariness in his eyes, his hands shot out and clenched your shoulders with such speed and strength, you nearly leapt out of your skin. His nose nuzzled into your neck, taking a deep breath. For what seemed like hours, he mumbled and babbled and blathered and prattled about Coreflames, Nikador, Kephale, and the prophecy. After his tirade, his grip tightened.

"But, at least you're mine now." The words seemed to shackle themselves around your wrists, binding you and your attention.

For a moment, you were so dumbfounded you couldn't find the words to express what you wanted to say. Had your situation been any less confounding, you would've found your speechlessness a wonderful little paradox. "Phainon, wha-what do you m-?"

Before you could finish your sentence, Phainon sealed away any remaining restraint he had with a brutally tender kiss. He seemed to push against your lips with the goal of wearing them down until they molded perfectly against his. The kiss itself seemed to metamorphosize with how long it lived; at first it was tender, like new shoots of life growing in spring, but as it grew in age, so did its greed. Phainon seemed intent on savoring every second as an eternity in its own right.

When he did break the kiss, he gazed at you with an otherworldly devotion. It was a look of such sweet softness that it could kill. "I might not have Kephale's Coreflame yet, but I will. I'll do it. Just for you." Though he said he didn't have a Coreflame, his eyes burned with passion brighter than the sun. It scorched your tender skin, branding you with illusory markings of possession. A declaration, almost, that you were, in fact, the subject of Mnestia's dreadful prophecy.

[tsuutarr]

Yandere Otome Isekai Lawyer x Reader

Elliot Armstrong is the youngest child of the Armstrong Estate, which means that he’s often given scraps in favor of his older brothers. It also doesn’t help that Elliot has never been too fond of the physicality of combat despite being part of a family of military might.

Instead, the battle of wits is what enthralls Elliot. Chess, riddles, puzzles – all of it captivates him. Perhaps that is why it is no surprise that Elliot has found himself fascinated by the human psyche, too. Humans are interesting specimens – they’re simple but also quite complex.

Elliot’s interest in humans is what draws him to pursue law. The variety of cases that fall in his lap – some more intriguing than others – always make his daily life that much more interesting. He can observe a great variety of people, which excites him to no end. Besides that, due to his awareness of his own intellect, he likes winning against other humans, too.

After all, brain is better than brawn. He’s much better than his brothers, his parents, his ancestors. He is the most superior Armstrong – the superior human.

Others just cannot compare. They’re too easy to manipulate, too simple once you understand their inner workings.

Well, all humans except you, somehow. 

The Heir to the Arrington Estate – you hadn’t really caught his eye before, being the quiet but rather dry child of the infamous Duke Arrington. Yet somehow, one day, out of the blue, you began to stand out.

Elliot remembers the exact moment you had become a centerpiece of his thoughts, someone he spins and spins inside the crevices of his brain just so he can make sure he never forgets anything about you. 

It was a few moons ago, when his family had been tried for their involvement in embezzling the Royal Family’s fortune. With his silver tongue, Elliot had managed to come out unscathed, unlike his idiotic family who had all been put to jail – it was all karmic justice, really.

The family that had ostracized him now begged at his feet, imploring him to save them. Hilarious.

It was quite difficult holding back his laugh, but he managed just fine. Perhaps he managed too well, however, since so many nobles began to pity him. They pitied him – him!

He’s much greater than they are, to the point that he knows all their secrets and yet they had the gall to pity him. Disgusting worms, the lot of them. 

And yet you, the Heir to the Arrington Estate… you were the only one who showed him genuine compassion. It surprised him – most nobles are self serving (him included) and care very little for others. Yet you care. Perhaps a little too much, really. But it’s nice, he won’t deny that. Being acknowledged, praised, for his intellect. Being shown compassion for his “plight.” Being shown the kindness in those lovely eyes of yours. 

Oh, Elliot just adores it all. Your attention, your kindness, your praise – he desires it all.

So, of course Elliot offers to be your personal lawyer. You’re kind, but perhaps a little too kind for your own good when, really, you only need to show kindness to him. Besides, your… Father, is a piece of work. You’d be much better as the Head of the Arrington Estate, so of course Elliot needs to be there so that he can ensure your position and safeguard it from your greedy relatives.

Oh, yes, you need him. You definitely, most certainly do.

Just like he needs you.