#🌿-masterlist

[petrichor-idyllic]

MINHO

MASTERLIST

CONTENT WARNINGS IN GREEN

NO SMUT OR EXPLICIT CONTENT

○ FLUFF | □ SPICE | ● ANGST |• HEADCANONS

◇ FEM! READER | ☆ GN! READER | 《》 MASC! READER

□ LONGING FROM AFAR ◇

↳ Minho has always been cocky and self-assured. That is until a girl arrives in the Glade. A girl he's had some interesting dreams about.

Contains suggestive content and spice.

• SOME HEADCANONS ◇

↳ Just some headcanons about our favourite Runner.

Contains suggestive content and spice.

□ FIRECRACKER ◇

↳ Minho finally agrees to teach you how to fight after weeks of pestering him. Though, things take an unexpected turn.

Contains suggestive content and spice.

○ SAFE PLACE ◇

↳ After you narrowly escape the vicious actions of another Glader who couldn't take no for an answer, you find refuge in Minho's hut - and his arms.

Contains references to sexual assault but there's nothing explicit.

○ UNDER THE INFLUENCE ◇

↳ After the Greenie Day celebrations leave you a little bit intoxicated, Minho takes care of you and keeps you safe.

○ HIDE AND SEEK ◇

↳ You're training to be a Runner and, as the Keeper, Minho is made to look after you. Though, things take a dramatic turn as Minho is forced to save your life.

□ LET ME MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER ◇

↳ Somehow, you end up giving your best friend a massage. Things go about as well as expected.

Basically the start of a bad porn scenario.

□ INAPPROPRIATE WORKPLACE BEHAVIOUR ◇

↳ You miss out on the Bonfire to stay to help Minho with the Maps. Unfortunately, he's a little distracted.

Contains suggestive content and spice.

□ AFTER THE CALM ◇

↳ Joining the group from the scorch, the Gladers take a blow after losing Newt to the Crank Palace. So, you help cheer Minho up.

Book-based fic. Contains suggestive content and spice.

□ BEYOND THE OTHER SIDE ◇

↳ Despite your feelings for one another, you and Minho have decided it's best to stay friends. But, after you nearly lose him to the clutches of the Maze, and he says some choice words to Gally - you decide enough is enough.

Book based fic. Some suggestive themes.

● ALL YOU HAVE ◇

↳ Minho has always had you by his side. He doesn't know how he'd cope without you. Well, now he might have to learn how.

Bro, you die. Rip.

WARMTH IN COLD PLACES ◇ ➤

○ PART 1 | □ PART 2

↳ You are an undercover agent for The Right Arm working behind enemy lines in WCKD's headquarters. Your simple intel gig ends up being the least of your problems as you're suddenly put on the front lines of a rescue mission. It doesn't help that the boy you're pretending to keep prisoner is pretty cute.

□ BEHAVE ◇

↳ You're obsessed with your boyfriend. It's just so hard to keep your hands off of him - even when he's working.

Contains suggestive content and spice.

□ MIRAGE OF THE PAST ◇

↳ Despite never seeing Minho before, you swear you recognise him. That's why you're always staring. Well, and the man is fine. Now in your place of refuge, the Safe Haven provides you with a home, and a new sense of freedom. A bit of flirting can't hurt, right?

Contains suggestive content and spice.

○ IT TAKES TIME  ◇

↳ You were immediately attracted to Minho when you met him in the Scorch. Now, after six months and many losses, you're reunited.

○ STAY CLOSE 《》

↳ Your dream of becoming a Runner is crushed time and time again. But that doesn't stop you from running out into the Maze to help Minho and Alby. Though, that doesn't mean you're the only one willing to risk your life to protect those you care about.

□ FRIENDLY COMPETITION ◇

↳ A friendly game of capture the flag turns heated thanks to yours and Minho's competitive spirit.

Contains suggestive content and spice.

○ SOFT AT HEART ◇

↳ Soft, sweet and caring; you're the mother of the Glade.

○ BLIND EYE ◇

↳ Minho has a crush on you. You're oblivious. He's losing his mind.

○ DECEPTION IN LIBERATION ◇

↳ You're from Group B. Meeting someone in the middle of a prison break is one hell of an introduction.

□ HIGH SCHOOL NOT-SO-SWEET-HEARTS ◇

↳ High school AU. Minho is popular and sporty. You're quiet and smart. It's a stereotypical high-school romance, except Minho is the one tripping over himself for you. And, well, you don't believe him.

Contains suggestive content and spice. Minho won't accept your rejection.

○ HOW TO WINGMAN (POORLY) ☆

↳ Everyone in the Glade is sick of watching you and Minho dance around your feelings for each other. So, they decide to do something about it. Well, they attempt to, at least.

○ DIE FOR YOU ☆

↳ Song fic based off of "Die for You" by The Weekend.

ON YOUR OWN ◇ ➤

○ PART 1 | ○ PART 2 | ○ PART 3

↳ You were put in a Maze all on your own, with nothing but your dog. The isolation is one thing, but what'll happen when you finally escape?

○ SOLIDARITY ◇

↳ Minho is used to being the tough guy; but he doesn't know how to react when he meets someone tougher than him.

○ LIFE BEFORE DROWNING ◇

↳ You're from one of the many alternative Mazes - and yours happened to be full of water. Though, you only realise how weird your Maze was when you reach the Safe Haven, and meet a certain Runner, who feels weirdly familiar.

○ SAVIOR COMPLEX ◇

↳ You're a new Runner, and a disobedient one. So, when you get stung, Minho is left to play saviour. And doctor. Though, as he looks after you, he starts to think you might not be so bad.

○ IN ADVANCE OF GREIF ◇

↳ Getting bitten by a crank is never fun. But, you're from a Maze, so, you'll be fine... right?

□ EXPOSURE ◇

↳ In an attempt to comfort Chuck, you confess an embarrassing secret about something you did back when you were crushing on Minho and before you started dating. Unfortunately, your boyfriend isn't as heavy of a sleeper as you originally thought.

Contains mild suggestive content and spice.

□ SPARKS ◇

↳ Now in the Safe Haven, the sexual tension between you and Minho has turned into a twisted game of restraint. Though, it's hard not to break when you finally catch a glimpse of Minho's lightning scars.

Contains suggestive themes and spice.

□ BEST FEATURE ☆

↳ You can't stop staring at Minho's arms.

Contains suggestive content and spice.

• INDOCTRINATION ☆

↳ The first time you ever met Minho in the WICKED facility, and the corrupt childhood you briefly spent together before things take a wrong turn.

[nrc-confessions]

ANON LIST

anons with a * next to their name/emoji have only sent one ask/and we have answered it! It is also completely possible some anons with a * next to their name have unanswered asks in our inbox

last updated: 6/4/2024

EMOJI ANONS

Note: emoji anons are more likely to get tags!

anon: 🪡

anon: 🧶

anon: 💌

anon: 🦎

​anon: 🌙🏔️

​anon: 💙

anon: 🍽️ *

​anon: 🐦‍⬛

anon: 🎶

​anon: mono C. 🫀 *

anon: 🌻 *

‘anon’:🏹 *

​anon: 🌾

​anon: 🟦 (Previously ign a)

anon: 💍✨ *

🐦‍⬛ Headmage Crowley!

anon: 🍎🍏

​anon: 💘🐊

anon: ✨

anon: 🐇

anon: 🌈

anon: 🎼

anon: 🎋

anon: 🤡 *

​anon: 📖 *(no longer in use)

anon: 🥱

anon: 🌊 *

anon: 🦖 *

anon: 🌠

​anon: 🩰

​anon: 🎪

​anon: 🎟️ *

​anon: 💰*

​anon: 🥀

anon: 🍯 *

anon: 🌦️

anon: 🐌

​anon: ☄️ *

anon: ✨🌹

anon: 🐭

anon: 🐠🎉

​anon: 🌟🎤 ( @angles-and-fish )

​anon: 🐦 *

anon: 🍒 *

​anon: 🦔

anon: 🕷️ ( @anonspiderig )

anon: 👑

​anon: ⚜️

anon: 🦇🍷

anon: 🦆

anon: 🐾

​anon: 🕶️

​anon: 🦌*

anon: 🦊

​anon: ♥️🍒*

​anon: 🧵💙*

​anon: 🗡️

anon: 🍄

​anon: 👁️

​anon: 🪻🦊*

anon: 🍭🕷️

​anon: ✂️🥀*

​anon: 👒*

anon: ​🂱⭑*

​anon: 🐍❤️

anon: 🦐*

​anon: ♟️

anon: ��

​anon: 🌶️🌵*

anon: 🏸

anon: 🎤

anon: 🏴‍☠️

anon: 🐩

anon: ♣️🍀*

anon: 🍋

anon: 🗯️*

anon: 🧪*

NAME ANONS

note: these are less likely to get tags! Especially if you only send one ask! it would be appreciated if you specify you want a tag if you’re going to use one of these

​anon: venti cosplayer

​anon: venti c. kisser

​anon: lost

anon: Ignihyde splatoon ( @shiver-me-fan )

anon: Pom. Dungeon

​anon: silly pom. student

anon: apple finder

​anon: Scarab. student A

​anon: info

anon: infirmary ( @hello-from-nrc-infirmary )

​anon: Diasomnias star (previously: Blackmail anon)

​anon: heartslabyul

​anon: 20 bucks

anon: tiny

anon: V

anon: clone

anon: Ignihyde student e

​anon: catfish

anon: Ignihyde idiot

​anon: squiddle

anon: cheek kisser

anon: 👁️‍🗨️ translator

​anon: 👀 translator

Anons Not answered yet

Sorry </3 I’ll (🌿) try my best to prioritize these asks so you guys can get a tag </3

anon: 🐉🌹

anon: 🐡

anon: 🃏

anon: 🥝

anon: 👠

anon: 🧿

anon: ❄️🧊🌨️

anon: 👘

anon: 🎐

anon: 🎵

anon: 🐀

anon: 🦋

anon: ☀️

anon: 💫

anon: 🎀

anon: 🍨

anon: 🩹

anon: 👻

anon: 🌸

anon: 🔥🎮

anon: ☕🦑

anon: 🎲

[s-starvoid]

✧- Kaz┆he/him ┆-> hey ✧- Kade ┆he/it ┆k.🥩 ✧- Nex┆she/they ┆-> intro ☕️ ✧- 🌿┆he/him ┆get to know me ! ✧- 🍵┆it/its┆-> into ❤︎ ✧- Toru┆PERCEIVE ME 🌐 ✧- Sakura/Pink ┆hello! 🌸 ✧- Valentine┆-> intro 💌 ✧-🥩 or A┆ it/it’s ┆ npd/aspd/bpd ✧- Megumi┆he/him ┆intro ✧- AJ┆he/hym ┆aj.🐳 ✧- 🦇┆he/hym ┆『︎🦇』︎ ✧- Lucifer┆it/its/hym ┆👁️‍🗨️ ✧- Osa┆he/him/it ┆【︎🥃】︎ ✧- D┆he/it/its ┆【︎🩹】︎ ✧- Mike (the meme master) ┆he/them ┆owner of the meep tag ✧- 🍒┆any but she/it ┆ ✧- 🫐┆any but she/her ┆ ✧- 🌌🔭 ✧-🎀🚬

✧-⭐️🍓

🪦™︎

[sakurajjam]

MASTERLIST DE NOMES FEMININOS!

Após o cut você vai encontrar 130 opções de nomes femininos, todos foram tirados de textos que já li e alguns de imagens do pinterest, infelizmente, não encontrei créditos em nenhuma delas. As opções não seguem qualquer tipo de aesthetic ou localidade, apenas são nomes que achei bonitos e interessantes, e espero ajudar alguém! 

Adelaide

Adira

Alexis

Amaya

Anastasia

Anika

Annalice

Apoline

Ariel

Astoria

Aubrey

Audrey

Aurora

Avalon

Avery

Bellamy

Bethany

Beverly

Blair

Bonnie

Brianne

Bridget

Brooke

Camryn

Carmella

Cassidy

Chloe

Citrine

Clara

Clarissa

Clementine

Coralina

Cristal

Damarina

Daphne

Dawn

Desiree

Donna

Dorothy

Eden

Eleanor

Elodie

Eloise

Emalyn

Emery

Emily

Emmeline

Enola

Enora

Esme

Evelyn

Faith

Felicity

Feyre

Fleur

Flora

Genevieve

Ginger

Glenda

Gracie

Gretta

Haifa

Halina

Harper

Hillary

Holly

Hope

Ivana

Ivy

Josephine

Journey

Juniper

Lauren

Layla

Leonor

Leonora

Lexie

Liana

Lindsey

Liya

Loretta

Luna

Madison

Maela

Magdalena

Margot

Maya

Merida

Morana

Morgana

Nadine

Nairobi

Nicole

Nicolette

Nika

Nikita

Noelle

Nora

Normani

Nyla

Odette

Ophelia

Primrose

Quintessa 

Rosemary

Runa

Sabine

Sadie

Safira

Saoirse

Savannah

Scarlet

Serena

Shelby

Sienna

Skylar

Sloane

Sunday

Sydney

Tamaya

Valentina

Vayna

Verena

Viviane

Willow

Yvonne

Zaria

Zipora

Zoella

Zoya

[pandoras-box0]

|| : Sage's Masterlist Key :

| ☁︎ - Fluff | ☾︎ - Angst | ♡︎ - Smut |

| ✉ - request | ★ - Dark Content |

𝔸𝕧𝕒𝕥𝕒𝕣 𝔽𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕖

Jake Sully - "all I ever wanted was a single thing worth fighting for."

|♡︎| ' pussy play ' w/ Jake Sully!

Tsu'tey - "we will strike them in the heart!"

Neteyam Sully - "who's the mighty warrior? Come on, say it."

|♡︎| 'golden touch ' - aged up! neteyam x Metkayina! reader | Body worshipping Teyam!

Lo'ak Sully - "i trust you, you can trust me."

|♡︎| ' tasting you ' - aged up! lo'ak x omatikaya! reader | oral - fem receiving; lo'ak cums untouched!

|♡︎| ' budding passion ' - sub! lo'ak x dom! metkayina! reader | sex pollen; aged up characters; knotting; male sub x female dom! (Coming Soon)

|♡︎| : ' hush ' - lo'ak x na'vi! reader | orgasm denial; tail play; exhibitionism!

Miles Quaritch - "why so blue?"

Other Recom - "A Recon gyrene in an Avatar body. That's a potent mix."

|♡︎| ' coffee ' - recom! mansk x recom! reader | slight somnophilia; light dubcon because of ; pre-established lovers!

Other Na'vi - "I see you,"

|♡︎| ' all mine ' - ralak x omatikaya! reader | possessive/possessive ralak; scenting; marking/biting! (Coming Soon) (@zestys-stuff 's oc)

|☁︎| ' comfort me ' - ralak x omatikaya! reader | pure comfort; just ralak being the attentive man he is!

|♡︎| ' like candy ' - ao'nung x metkayinan! reader | oral fixation; switch! ao'nung - if you squint; tit play!

Series Masterlists -

| ★ · ☁︎ · ☾︎ · ♡︎ | ' Whisper to my soul ' - lo'ak sully x na'vi! reader | mentions of violence, war, death; eventual smut; the RDA stole na'vi| ( masterlist coming soon )

| ☁︎ · ☾︎ · ♡︎ | ' tìyawn si tsam ' - ki'yhon sully x na'vi! reader | original characters; original clan; one-sided enemies to lovers - on Ki'yhon's behalf; arranged mates trope; hopeless romantic! reader; angst; mentions of war - includes violence, near death experience, and character death; eventual smut - switch! reader and Ki'yhon | ( masterlist ) (@pandoras-box0 's oc)

| ☁︎ · ☾︎ · ♡︎ | ' ego talking ' - kaalu x reef na'vi! reader | arranged mates trope; age gap; eventual smut; mentions of war, violence, death | ( masterlist coming soon ) (@pandoras-box0 's oc)

| ☁︎ · ☾︎ · ♡︎ | ' blended clans ' - tonowari and ronal x metkayina! reader x jake and neytiri | pre established poly relationship; rekindling; angst; blended family trope; the metkayina clan helped fight against the humans in 2150 | ( masterlist coming soon )

| ☁︎ · ☾︎ · ♡︎ | ' Pandora bound ' - spider socorro x recom! reader | ( tags and masterlist coming soon )

2023 © Pandoras-Box — all rights reserved. Do not repost or recommend my works on any other site. Plagiarism will not be tolerated!

[starxanemone]

˚ʚ 𓉳 ɞ˚ ( 水に流す ) ⸻ water flows.

call me nemo ( 20. intp 5w4 548. writer & reader )

i write for ⸻ haikyuu. blue lock. genshin.

sfw & nsfw blog ( only adult characters are applicable for nsfw content. minors, do not interact with said content )

NEMO'S SHELF

nemo's collections — masterlist.

nemo's rules — rules & dni.

nemo's notes — announcements.

nemo's studies — essays.

nemo's diary — thoughts.

UPCOMING WORKS

"the problem with stoics" — karasu tabito ( multiple-chapter fic ).

[https-furina]

im praying to god that i didnt send the same thing twice rn

yall better thank aly for all this upcoming content omg 🤭 aly is feeding yall i’m just the funny lil typing person who posts it all

[petalsrfallen]

OBEY ME MASTERLIST

𝘼𝙎𝙈𝙊𝘿𝙀𝙊𝙐𝙎

𝘽𝘼𝙍𝘽𝘼𝙏𝙊𝙎

𝘽𝙀𝙀𝙇𝙕𝙀𝘽𝙐𝘽

𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙋𝙃𝙀𝙂𝙊𝙍

𝘿𝙄𝘼𝙑𝙊𝙇𝙊

𝙇𝙀𝙑𝙄𝘼𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙉

𝙇𝙐𝘾𝙄𝙁𝙀𝙍

𝙇𝙐𝙆𝙀

𝙈𝘼𝙈𝙈𝙊𝙉

𝙎𝘼𝙏𝘼𝙉

𝙎𝙄𝙈𝙀𝙊𝙉

𝙎𝙊𝙇𝙊𝙈𝙊𝙉

copyright ©️ petalsrfallen 2021-2023

[lostjudgmnt]

compiling list of all the emojis i tag things with

ocs (with links to their tags for original posts about them):

cain oliviera: 🌿 (they/ve/he/she)

celeste oliviera: 🗡 (she/her)

redacted (not their name theyre just secret): 🛡 (they/xe/he)

babylon: ☀️ (she/her)

zachary delreese: ⚜️ (he/him)

nautie (splatoon squidsona): 🐚 (they/it)

shale (general trainersona): 🪨 (he/hymn)

oshiro misumi: 🍬 (she/he/it)

mercy burnell: 🩸 (she/her)

prudence gray: 🫀 (she/he)

nadya volkov: 🏔️ (she/he/they)

april adams: 🎃 (she/he/they)

cyl cercopia: 🍄 (they/she)

yivian schmidtz: 🍒 (she/it)

autumn primrose alverez dmitriova: 🌹 (she/her)

rylee winter: 🎆 (she/her)

maria brassheart: 🧪 (she/her)

yugana: 🧺 (she/her)

and then some that i havent tagged yet:

eirene the divine: 🔆 (it)

lyre (pokemon scarlet trainersona): 🥪 (she/her)

also characters that aren’t really ocs as opposed to media characters ive changed a little and put in aus but. you know <3

letty (au trainer for pokemon scarlet/violet): 📕

eight ball (au agent 8 from splatoon): 🎱

deadeye (hunter, wildermyth campaign): 📘

and then these ones are just favorite characters of mine. im not directly linking all of them because i dont feel like it lol

🌱 — aerith gainsborough (ff7)

🖤 — tifa lockhart (ff7)

💫 — ex (puyo puyo tetris)

👁️ — yagami takayuki (je)

❤️‍🔥 — kaito masaharu (je)

🎸 — sawamura haruka (yakuza)

🌘 — im still afraid to full out admit i like this game and these characters for some reason so figure it out

❣️ — ^^^^^

🍂 — ^^^^^

🕯️ — the worst girls since eve (wktd)

[rosevie]

​⎯⎯ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𐙚

IMPORTANT

✘ Requests are currently -> CLOSE

✘ My writing is varied, from light novels with a lot of delicacy to content for adults, however, my experience with 18 is recent so be sure that I will improve myself better;

✘ In addition to creative writing, I like to assemble / create characters within literary universes, soon I will bring more news about it, I guarantee you likes;

✘ Extremely violent content is extremely off-limits for ordering;

✘ Below is what I will write about I write separated by film/series or book to which it belongs, enjoy!

❛ characters list ❜

✦ Divergent – Eric Colter, Peter, Thobias Eaton “four”, Will;

✦ Bridgerton – Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Prince Friederich, Gareth St. Clair, Gregory Bridgerton, Michael Stirling;

✦ Peaky Blinders – Arthur Shelby, Alfie Solomons, Finn Shelby, Isaiah Jesus, John Shelby,Michael Gray, Oswald Mosley, Thomas Shelby;

✦ Acotar – Azriel, Cassian, Eris, Feyre, Helion, Kallias, Lucien, Morrigan, Rhysand, Tarquin, Varien;

✦ Vikings – Bjorn Ironside, Harald Finehair, Hvitsert Lothbrok, Ivar Lothbrok, Rollo, Sigurd Lothbrok, Ubbe Lothbrok;

✦ Ragnarok – Fjor Jutul, Magne Seier, Oscar Bjornholt;

✦ Lord of Rings – King Aragorn, Boromir, Elrond, Faramir, Legolas;

✦ Game of Thones – Jon Snow, Jaime Lannister, Oberyn Martell, Robb Stark, Tommen Baratheon, Theon Greyjoy;

✦ House of the Dragon – Aegon Targaryen II, Aemond Targaryen, Criston Cole, Daemon Targaryen, Harwin Strong;

✦ Harry Potter universe – Blaise Zabini, Cedric Diggory, Draco Malfoy, Fred Weasley, Jorge Weasley, Regulus Black, Remus Lupin, Ronald Weasley, Sebastian Sallow, Sirius Black, Theo Nott;

✦ Game charecters – Mortal Kombat, Call of Duty, Baldur's Gate 3.

✦ Future characters may be added 💋

[petrichor-idyllic]

MASTERLIST

RULES | TAGS

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

THIS BLOG CONTAINS 18+ CONTENT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME.

All of my writing and works can be found here. I write for several fandoms and mainly write 'x reader' but I also have my own characters.

Please refer to my rules before requesting.

Requests can be as detailed as you want, but give me the preferred pronouns for the one-shot, or I will default use they/them.

The characters and universes I write for are listed below - character names in bold already have fics written about them, but I write for all on this list. Media and shows I don't feel comfortable writing smut or explicit content for, for whatever reason, is stated in green in that subsection and character masterlist.

○ FLUFF | □ SPICE | ● ANGST | ■ SMUT |• HEADCANONS

◇ FEM! READER | ☆ GN! READER | 《》 MASC! READER

OUTERBANKS

NO SMUT OR EXPLICIT CONTENT

JJ MAYBANK | RAFE CAMERON | KIARA CARRERA | JOHN B. ROUTLEDGE | SARAH CAMERON | POPE HEYWARD

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

DAEMON TARGARYEN | RHAENYRA TARGARYEN | ALICENT HIGHTOWER | SER CRISTON COLE | AEMOND TARGARYEN | AEGON TARGARYEN | JACAERYS VELARYON - NO SMUT OR EXPLICIT CONTENT FOR THIS CHARACTER | SER GWAYNE HIGHTOWER | HELAENA TARGARYEN

(And anyone else from the show I can't remember because all their names sound the same.)

THE MAZE RUNNER

NO SMUT OR EXPLICIT CONTENT

MULTI-CHARACTER

THOMAS | MINHO | NEWT | TERESA | FRYPAN | GALLY | BRENDA | ALBY

(NOTE: Newt is canonically gay, confirmed by the author of TMR: James Dashner. Therefore, I will only write Masc and Gender-neutral reader out of respect for the character.)

THE 100

NO SMUT OR EXPLICIT CONTENT

CLARKE GRIFFIN | JOHN MURPHY | BELLAMY BLAKE | OCTAVIA BLAKE | FINN COLLINS | JASPER JORDAN | MONTY GREEN | RAVEN REYES | HARPER MCLNTYRE

(NOTE: I have only seen the first two seasons pls don't shout at me.)

THE MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE

(Please request characters for this, there are far too many to list.)

PETER PARKER - NO SMUT OR EXPLICIT CONTENT FOR THIS CHARACTER

INDIVIDUAL CHARACTERS

(These are one-off characters I will write for and what they are from.)

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY | Call of Duty

RODRICK HEFFLEY | Diary of a Wimpy Kid - NO SMUT OR EXPLICIT CONTENT FOR THIS CHARACTER

MARCUS LOPEZ ARGUELLO | Deadly Class

BILLY BUTCHER | The Boys

MY ORIGINAL CHARACTERS

CICADA: OUTER BANKS FANFIC IDEA

Mazz Introduction

THE MAZE RUNNER FANFIC IDEA

Vol and friends introduction

[eyesintheheat]

- true that i saw her hair like the branch of a tree ༊*·˚

there is nothing here yet! this will be updated when i start writing! it will have links to masterlists for specific fandoms!

[itsonlydana]

Sleeping In Their Clothes | hobbit / lotr

how they would react to finding you asleep in their clothes

characters: Thranduil, Bard, Aragorn, Legolas x fem!reader

warnings/tags: mentions of Boromir's death (Aragorn), age gap (Bard), romantic shipping

word count: 5,7k

an: trying something new! Have been struggling to write after some personal issues so please excuse the slow updates on this blog

requests: please check pinned post

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are much appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

Thranduil:

Thranduil’s mood darkens the halls, clouds the air around him bitter and ashen. The elves he passes lower their heads at his strides, at his cloak billowing behind him as thunder rolls over the skies. No one dares to speak, no one dares to whisper or raise their voice at any volume below the hushed glances they share after he disappears behind a corner. The foul stench of anger and frustration traces his path, starting right in front of the doors he slammed after another day of negotiations and down the direct route to his chambers. 

He grits his teeth at the servants hurrying toward him and bellows a low: “Get out!” as hands reach forward and there’s enough fury in his eyes for the servants to scatter away like a heap of leaves blown apart by a particularly harsh wind. 

Even the thought of skin touching him when he is burning up… he shudders. 

There’s only one who he wants close to him right now.

He reaches out for you long before he’s in the bedroom, feeling for your fëa entangled with his in an inseparable union and he makes sure to be gentle, brushing you with his love rather than the anger bubbling hot inside him. 

The calling stays unanswered – a deep wave of security and comfort labs over him but by the tenderness of it rather than your usual playfulness, and by the time Thranduil sees the seethrough white curtains around the bed, he knows exactly what state you will be in.

And never one to disappoint him, your unconscious yet dreamy smile is all Thranduil needs to forget about the anger he yielded like a sharp sword; used to cut down any and all offers from the dwarfs and their stubborn and unreasonable trading offers. 

Instead of ripping apart conversations and insults, Thranduil’s hands are gentle as he parts the curtains and kneels on the feathery mattress with your shapes ingrained in it. All those nights spent close together and his warrior-heart will never fail to skip a beat at the sight of you wrapped in his robes. It’s one of the older, worn ones as well. Fabric that thins out at the cuffs – not that this would be a problem; you’re not close to reaching them –, a few cuts and holes in places twigs and branches bore themselves into the crimson, featherlight velvet. 

Thranduil sees your skin flashing through some of them. The one above your knee, drawn up, another one below your biceps, relaxed because you know nothing can hurt you here, and some more all over your chest, hinting that you are not wearing much else. 

He knows you well enough that you won’t be bitter if woken up and so he leans in closer from behind. One hand finds your head, cradling it into his large palm until you, still in dreams comfortable embrace, roll to the side and bury your face inside it, nose pressed right against his steady pulse while his fingers gently trace the curve of your ear. 

No time spent together will ever sicken him of this, your complete surrender into his care, the doubtless trust that wherever you laid down to rest, he would sit by and be there. The oath of protection is one Thranduil promised his folk the day he was crowned their King as well, not once has he doubted he would abandon it all for the vow he gave you the night you offered your heart and he gifted you his; you above all.

His thumb just brushes over your temple and the fine hairs that come loose of your braid when your lashes flutter, leaving him to readily dive into the pools filled with love and sleep.

While he maneuvers with cunning, a master of actions and power, playing a game of chess on a board he alone commands, you stand unrivaled with the art of words. Your tongue, sharp and precise, weaves wit and wisdom into every phrase. Whenever he acts rationally and leads by his heart, you would listen first, hearing out heart as well as brain, and come to a conclusion serving everyone. 

Your voice has the power to sway wars and balance the scales of battle. When you speak, your tone, thick with the remnants of sleep yet razor-sharp in purpose, reduces him to nothing more than a mere soldier—helpless in the face of your command, whether in war or love:

“I dreamt we were air.”

“Invisible?” Thranduil's voice is laced with a touch of curiosity as he revels in the warmth of your laughter, the puff of hot breath meeting his wrist like a secret kiss. Your presence is a balm, a reminder of everything that is tender and true.

“You, my love, know that this is not true.”

“It is not?” 

“No,” you whisper and press a kiss to the tender skin, lingering with your lips over the pulse and the veins rushing blood to the heart, your heart, inside his chest. A puppeteer of words. Even the silent ones. 

“I agree,” Thranduil muses, enticed by this playful exchange, “that the wind is what we notice, a fleeting glimpse of nature’s breath. But air – air is the unseen force that dances around us, invisible yet ever-present, until our souls merge with the very fabric of the universe.” He glides his other hand to your legs, slipping underneath his warmed robe. 

You squeak as he anchors his arm around your thigh and tugs you over to face him in a swift movement. Faced to lie underneath his larger figure, you shoot him a crooked grin. 

“You can see the air just as much as you can see the wind it turns into,” you start and get comfortable in his lap. Thranduil immediately jumps the chance to idly with the robe that’s draped all over your body. 

“In the particles that dance in the sunlight,” you continue, your voice soft and thoughtful, “in the flags that hiss and flutter. In the vapor rising from steaming ponds, and in the mist that clings to the earth in the morning fog.” He watches, entranced, as your palm flattens against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch. “I see it here,” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath, and he follows your gaze as you watch your hand rise with each of his inhales and fall with each exhale.

Your fingertips, soft and gentle, curl slightly into the fabric of his current robe – soon, undoubtedly, those same fingers will find comfort in the folds of this robe, curling into it as you slip into sleep.

And in that quiet, intimate moment, he will see the air too, in the way your breath mingles with his, in the way your presence fills every space around him, making the invisible tangible, making the unseen profoundly felt.

The air catches in his throat and he sees your eyes twinkle.

Then, not looking away from you, he lies down as well. He has no need for the blanket crumpled underneath you both, the sight of you facing him, drawing your knees back to your chest and skin flashing whenever the fabric of his robes part to allow him these glimpses, is warmth enough. He loves you, even if you have a habit of taking what is his. A spray of his scents to drive him crazy, a feather that you take between your teeth as you write, or his robes but all of those mean nothing and all since you have him as well, fully and completely. 

So he will request ten new robes, in colors that you like, and await the day he gets to your bedroom and finds you sleeping in them.

“So,” Thranduil repeats slowly. His hand drifts to your face, trailing lines over the smile you give him. “You dreamt we were air?”

“Yes,” the corner of your lips quirk into a quick smirk, one that fades quickly yet leaves traces all over, “and we were invisible –”

“Oh, you little minx!”

“Ahhh – Thran, stop, oh I beg you, stop tickling me!”

Bard:

The brittle stairs heave and sigh, creak and groan under Bard’s boots, once honeyed planks now gray from the flow time, heavy rain and the dampness of the lake coloring the edges mossy green, and with the days passing by, the steps taken as he rushes down to work or tiredly drags himself up, one hand curved around the splintered railing, he wonders how many steps these stairs will endure before his house comes crashing down into the murky lake. 

This winter seems to be harsher than the ones before, with the wind howling loud at night and rattling on the walls that he wakes to frames shattered on the ground and the curtains ruffled even if the windows are closed. This winter, he swears the ice is thicker, a nearly impenetrable obstacle for his boat and his clothes are never warm enough but then, in the end, he knows the next winter will be worse and he doesn’t dare to complain out loud, doesn’t think it’s right to curse for hands shaking and feet aching and his nose running. 

As exhausted as he is, and Bard is, so exhausted, so tired, so drained, he’s mindful enough to skip the last plank of the stairs. He lifts his feet higher, ignores how the muscles in his thighs complain, and steps over the plank that always sounds like it’s waiting to break through, always moans the loudest when he needs to be quiet as if his state isn’t mockery enough. 

Bard slips through the door, opening it barely to keep the cold outside, and when he turns around, finally, warmth takes over. 

It starts in his hands, in the tips of his reddened fingers, exposed to nature's icy companions the moment he sneaks out to work before the sun rises. It creeps higher, up his arms and to his shoulders strong enough to carry his family more than he can hold himself, parting ways to fill his cheeks in the softest of glow, a simmering fire that colors his skin an ember-red and travels down through his swooping stomach, lightening a hunger he knows food will not sate, and when the heat reaches his feet, Bard releases a small sigh. 

There, in the low and flickering light of a candle burned down to a hardened wax puddle, his eyes immediately find you resting underneath the only window whose curtains are drawn open. Most of you is covered by a dark blanket, hiding your face but that doesn’t matter to Bard; he has every inch, every freckle, every crinkle of laughter and wrinkle of pain memorized. 

Not that he should; you’re kind enough to look after his children while he works, accepting no money and hearing no ‘buts’, and here Bard stands, a decade older, widowed and tired, and knows exactly that your mouth will be slightly opened and that your lashes will fan over the rosy apples of your cheeks and that your shoulders will ache because you rather sleep on the bench under the window than take away Bard’s pillow. 

Stubborn girl.

Bard crosses the cluttered floor, avoiding Tilda's drawings hung up to dry on the wooden ceiling beams and Sigrid's books and tomorrow, he will tut over Bain’s clothes left hanging on chairs and stools, but tonight he walks past them and their sight burns in his chest. 

As Bard gets closer to you, he nearly trips. 

That’s not a blanket that you hide your face in, that keeps away the winds creeping through the gaps in the wood behind you, that you use as a shield against the cold yet the greatest thing it fights are the walls Bard pulls up around his heart.

That’s his coat. 

The dark blue coat he left to dry over the oven after last night's rain. 

You must’ve taken it and that dismantles Bard into millions of pieces, chips away on his walls like nature takes layer after layer away from the stairs outside. 

While he can’t know when exactly the latter will be too much to take on any more pressure, he feels the heavy weight of his coat around your sleeping body, and just like the stairs, his personal defenses creak and groan, heave and sigh and crumble down around him in a thumping echo in his ears, that Bard fears his choked breath will wake you up.

He is helpless. 

He doesn’t dare to touch you directly, as much as he yearns to brush away the strands of hair fluttering in your even breaths. Bard’s hands are rough from his work and your soft skin deserves better than the callouses and scars he bears, so Bard gently lays his hand on your shoulder, covered by his coat – his coat, Lord how ever will he survive knowing the fabric kissed your body?

“Darlin’,” he whispers in a voice that’s horse and gravely, though it softens as he speaks your name, daring to follow it up fast enough there’s no room for a pause between the term of affection to be separated from your name.

You stir in your sleep, shift to reveal your face some more and the crease between your eyebrows and the effort it takes Bard to hold back from smoothing it out with his thump could have moved mountains. Bard ignores to notice how your nose is buried deep into the coat and that no washing could’ve ever cleaned the heavy fabric of his smell; he swallows hard. 

A low sigh blows away the hair and Bard’s eyes fall on the plushness of your lips. You wake up slowly, closing your mouth and you pull the coat tighter around you, holding onto it, while Bard lets go of his restraints.

“Darlin’,” he repeats, and this time you hear him enough to evoke a tired smile.

When you open your eyes and turn towards Bard, the candle flickers in the reflection of them. “You’re back,” you mumble into his coat, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

I know, Bard wants to say, I skip the last stair so the noise does not take away my chance to wake you up.

Instead, he shakes his head: “You shouldn’ be sleeping on this bench, it’s too hard and uncomfortable.”

“Eh,” you push yourself up into a sitting position, the coat still far too large around your frame and you don’t make any attempt to part from it, “This bench is sufficient enough for a short nap, and I–,” a yawn interrupts and you grin sheepishly, “What I wanted to say is that I wasn’t that tired anyway.”

“Sure,” Bard's laughter is quiet but fills the entirety of his lungs and his own lips mirror yours in a grin. 

The look you share in the darkness makes him feel like he’s young again, filled with infinite love for a limited body, bursting through his cells and flooding every vein, rushing blood that burns hot for you up to his battered heart. Bard can see your eyes wandering over his face and he wonders if you can tell that this smile is only for you and that he fights a lost battle in telling himself he can stop what’s tugging you closer. 

He leans in further and lets his hand fall from your shoulders to run his fingertips over his coat. His knees brush against yours, and Bard tells himself it's only the late hour that makes him tender, that his weary, overburdened mind is surrendering to the forbidden's allure in the quiet moments when no one else is watching. Yet, deep down, he knows this is merely the rationalization of a lost man, drawn to the woman who cares for his children who are not her own in some ways and are in others, who sleeps wrapped in his coat, and who gazes at him as though he could reach up and give her the stars he can see through the hole in his roof. 

“C’mon,” Bard nods his head toward the back of the house, an offer he speaks out every night, “I won’t let you go home all alone this late.” 

All other nights you shrugged his offer off, had him walk you home over the planks and gurgling water until you kissed his cheek goodnight and Bard snuck back to his home, falling into bed to fall asleep to an aching heart. He prepares for it now, the apologetic smile that usually takes over your face, the tilt of your head to hide your eyes, all of it is memorized to his memory and even though they’re always quiet he hears your “I can’t, I must go home,” like the drums of war that shoot the heart that beats for you.

He awaits it. He will ask again and again, no matter how desperate it makes him seem and how the hurt will take over and push him through the day only for the night to repeat itself.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Bard freezes.

You blink up at him, eyes full of sleep and dreams that shouldn’t have the image of an old man and his children in them, but you’re never one to listen to what’s expected from you. 

There’s no ache in his bones as he gathers you up in his arms, your head resting against his beating heart.

There’s no groan in his muscles as he carries you through his house and over the threshold to the little corner where he lays you on his bed, blue coat pooling over you as you smile and pat the small free space next to you. 

He doesn’t feel the pain of work, the exhaustion of days of darkness and the fear of surviving the night to get through the week.

Bard kicks off his shoes, discards his dirt-stained pants, and shrugs off the shirt dampened by water, ice, and snow. He vows that tonight, you won’t feel the cold. As he climbs onto the bed, the mattress dips under the weight of his trembling legs. You lift the blankets without hesitation, inviting him closer, and he accepts, silently aching for the warmth you offer. Your body radiates heat as you nestle in beside him, your smooth skin brushing against his legs. Almost timidly, you curl into him, your smaller form pressing against his chest and stomach. His arms wrap around you and when he allows himself to breathe a featherlight kiss onto your shoulder, he catches his musky scent left behind by his coat. 

“Sleep well,” he whispers into the crown of your head, feeling the fast beat of your heart under his hand, “my love.”

Aragorn:

Aragorn has been familiar with the pain of war ever since his father was murdered by orks when he was two. He knows how it flits through the body like lightning through water, cracking into all the ends of a being to render them helpless, burning through whatever energy and fight is left, and killing easily and efficiently. 

And yes, he has felt the pain of war on himself before, in the years he spent fighting as Thorongil under the hands of Lords and Kings in the West. Aragorn saw good men fall, saw better men than him die to the growing threat of Sauron and there has been a cloud of thunderstorm in his heart from there on.

Nothing hurts as much as the pain that took over your lovely eyes the moment you saw Boromir lying on the ground in colorful dried crunching leaves, pierced by arrows that had been aimed at you too, though that didn’t matter – to you – then. The scream that came next pierced through Aragorn blindingly white and he could do nothing but try to grab you, as you fell to the ground, scrambling away from his strong arms to get closer to Boromir, your weak efforts nothing but agony for him. You had cried bitterly, hitting Aragorn with curled-up fists and he took every punch, pulling you closer instead of pushing you away.

It only got worse when you realized the Hobbits were gone too. 

Aragorn saw the flame of hope flickering inside your eyes, a darkness of grief and pain behind them that he knew and yet he had no idea how to help you. 

He still doesn’t. 

The sun rose hours ago, red bleeding into gold, Boromir waving a last goodbye in the clouds, and the rustle of the wind brings shivers to the four of the Fellowship who are left. You’re setting up camp for the day; Legolas and Aragorn have not much need for speed but exhaustion can be a much crueler enemy combined with death and grief. Aragorn’s gaze wanders to you ever so often as you stand in front of the burning skies, staring at the pack that was once Boromirs and he casts his eyes downwards to where his heart aches. 

You suffer, obviously, and Aragorn, who fought for more years in his life than not, doesn’t know how he can battle your demons. 

If he could he would draw his sword and head into the fight, only return bloody-knuckled, the shadows wrapped between his tight fingers. He can’t though, and that may be what pains him more than the obvious heavy weight of witnessing Boromir’s last moments; his inability to take on your emotional baggage. It tears through his heart in aggressive jibes and stings like liquor on an open wound. 

This is why he’s the first volunteer when Legolas suggests splitting up. 

Aragorn nods at Gimli and they disappear into the forest, leaving Legolas who rests even less than Aragorn, and you, the walking example of why avoiding sleep after such traumatic events should be mandatory: your eyes drop, your hands shake and no amount of effort on your side is enough to hide the sacking of your shoulders. Every day that you walked further away from when you were nine – Mithrandir’s absence not accounted for – you distance yourself more, most likely to hide your suffering yet all that this behavior accomplishes is that Aragorn notices it all. 

How could he not?

He cares for you, most ardently, and these feelings brought forth a vulnerability, an open spot in his heart for love to slip in and make itself at home.

Aragorn leaves you in Legolas' care; the trust he places in the elf to protect you in your fragile state is grander than the one he has in himself. One soft whimper as you hide your face in your shoulder and stumble over feet that won’t listen and Aragorn might do something naive as pack his sack back up and hunt the orcs that took the Hobbits, the one coated in Boromir’s blood, on his own. 

It would be reckless, ignorant, a troubled journey without Legolas or Gimli or even you.

So Aragorn goes against his heart's urges and patrols – clearing the forest and trying not to think about your frail form, hugging yourself out of desperation and grief.

Gimli and he return hours later, under the warm rays of the sun – the gentle strings far too bright and calming for the last day's events, the wind a breeze swirling through the leaves crunching under his light feet and Legolas lifts a finger to his lips as soon as Aragorn makes eye contact.

He assures his steps are as silent as possible, avoiding the logs and twigs they would collect later for a fire to warm them, and walks past the elf, nodding his head and quietly thanking Legolas for keeping an eye on you. 

A hand lands on Aragorn’s shoulder, stopping him in his movement. 

“She’s asleep,” Legolas says quietly, leaning in closer, “We shall move forward when she awakes, rested.”

“No sooner,” Aragorn agrees and lets out a relieved breath that had been lodged deep inside his chest. He looks to the elf, then to the bundle of a small human shape underneath a tree. “Thank you, my friend.” 

“Aragorn, we need your focus as much as we need hers.” The grip on his shoulder loosens, and the weight stays in Legolas’ eyes and Aragorn almost winces, would he not know his friend only means well. 

His voice is gravel, his words soft and exhausted: “I know.” He didn’t know his heart had been such an open show but then, Legolas knows him like no other, a companion that found him and a friend that he can always count on, a partner in battle and nowadays, Legolas seems to have taken on the role of fates worst messenger – reminding Aragorn that this, you, the differences, the looming war and the ones that never end… 

When Aragorn approaches you, the pain he carries with him dims, a candle dying out in refreshing winds. Bending his knees, he carefully sits down, resting his back against the tree's rough bark covering your gentle face in dancing shadows and flickering golden spots of sunlight that kiss your closed eyelids. Around your shoulders and over most of your body, Aragorn recognizes the cloak he’d asked Legolas to stow away when Gimli and him took off. Now that he sees you, finally asleep, he is glad the cloak found a better use than being shoved inside a bag where it would have never touched your skin. 

He reaches out, soft and slowly, making sure his movements will not wake you and pulls off his leather coat as well, placing it across the uncovered part of your boots and legs.

Aragorn is tired but he will keep watch, protecting you to sleep safely.

He is weak but only for you, so he will fight harder than ever before to ensure the Hobbits return to see the smile he loves so much on your face again.

There is a possibility this will all change faster than any of you could realize, these times are unpredictable and there is a taste of danger on his tongue and in the air. The journey of the Fellowship has barely begun and already the sun bleeds into the horizon in colors that mark the grounds of battlefields awaiting you.

Aragorn clenches his jaw and only unclenches it when he hears the smallest of sighs. Looking down at you, he dares to smooth away some strands of hair, leaving a streak of dirt on your sunkissed temple. 

In the grand scheme of things, there is of course the need for the bigger picture and the importance of all that connects to this journey, but in this moment, surrounded by the sounds of the forests and your breathing, Aragorn takes comfort in knowing he has this moment with you to remember all the small things count just as much. 

A cloak to sleep in.

The shadow of a tree.

Even the pain seems to have fallen into a slumber, resting to surely come back and hit him square in the chest like it has never left him but Aragorn has never felt this free as in the pain’s short-lived absence. 

And he can hear it in the silence and in the way you keep his cloak close to you.

War brings pain but you bring love.

Legolas:

Legolas may agree that abandoning his father's task of informing Lord Elrond of the disappearance of their captive to travel through the lands and destroy a ring in Mordor – whether the Fellowship will make it this far is still unknown – but then Aragorn brought you to the Council and suddenly Legolas finds himself months away from his home, listening to your laughter as you flip rocks over the lake you’re standing in front of. 

He can not remember the last time he saw someone be this amused by the ripple of water and the stones skipping across the otherwise calm reflection of the skies that cause the growing disturbance. Then again, Legolas never met anyone like you in general and every aspect of your personality that he gets to watch unfold like the meadows you ride across, the hills you climb up, the more eager he feels to find out what makes you laugh.

Stones, apparently. 

“No, not this one!” you chime in and take the stone he picked up out of his hand, your skin brushing his and sending ripples over his skin. 

“No?” he inquires and tilts his head in genuine confusion. “This one seems perfectly adequate for this, no different to the ones you chose.” 

You scoff, giddy giggling followed. “That’s outrageous! Calling this one adequate when it's clearly in no shape to even compare to these –” you lift your hand to his face and present the collection of rocks that you seem to keep in the pockets of your vest, a grin blooming across your face, “Look! They’re thinner, perfect to hop.. hopefully, four times?”

Legolas smiles, one that’s more tugged into his cheeks and corners of his eyes to really be called one. “I will leave you to find what you think–”

“I don’t think,” you interrupt him and roll your eyes, already turning your back to him again and bending your knee slightly. You turn your head over your shoulder and the sun reflects beautifully in your cheeky gaze, “I know. I feel. Look!” Then you twist your arm, pulling it into your chest at an angle before flicking the stone across the lake.

Five times.

You cackle loudly. 

And Legolas picks up the stone you thought not to be perfect and slides it into his pockets, ignoring how his heart skips five times.

The day flies by like the stones dance over water, fast, too fast for Legolas' liking yet by the time the sun burns low on the horizon, he is glad for the calmness that settles over the little camp they’d set up earlier. The others are scattered around the fire crackling behind Legolas, the warmth creeping into his bones and settling high in his cheeks, as he turns his head slightly and catches you staring out onto the water; the red fire and golden sunset basking you in a glow that pulls him into you like busy bees to the sweetest of flowers.

He can’t help but stare, even if it’s everything but appropriate. Your face is lit up, not only by the embers fluttering to you and the last of the sun's rays caressing the fullness of your cheeks but ever since you decided to tag along on this journey, nature bathes you in an aphrodisiac of wind-swept hair that Legolas wants to braid, rosy fingertips that he wants to hold and kiss each one of them. Whenever he looks at you – he could not tell how much, time is a rush of emotions, a whirlwind of hair and laughter, hands playfully slapping him and he counts the days by how often you blink up tiredly after waking up rather than the sun sets and rises – he is astounded of the beauty someone could possess and carry it out freely like it sits in your heart and not in your face. 

The sun sets and your eyes are full of wonder and molten gold, an open letter of your adoration for the nature that equally loves you back. 

Behind him, Legolas hears Merry and Pippin sing, hears the low chuckles of Aragorn, and lips that curve around a pipe, teeth clacking against shaped and glazed wood filled with smoke. He also hears your intake of breath as the wind swipes over you, gliding over the lapping water first, over the croaking frogs and wreathes around your naked arms. He hears the sound of your hand smoothing over the fine hairs that stand up on your prickled skin. 

He hears himself talk, before he thinks: “Here, this cloak will keep some of the cold away.”

Your eyes widen.

His heart skips five times on each breath taken in the moment of silence.

Legolas is sure that you would take the offer one way, but then you nod, lower lip pulled between your teeth as if that could stop the shy smile from tugging up the corners of your mouth, and you scoot closer, lifting yourself up by your hands and leaning in, until your shoulders brush his side.

He almost freezes, not because of the cold – this he can not feel, for multiple reasons, and mostly the advantages of being an elf though the warmth radiating from your body, suddenly so close to yours and the blush that he must blame on the fire – but because the way you slid into his side as he holds up one side of the green cloak leaves only the option to drape the fabric over your shoulder and awkwardly pull his arm away or–

There must be some of his father's braveness in Legolas for he lowers his arm around you, shaking ever so slightly. 

You sigh, contentedly, and draw your legs up to your chest. “Much better at this than skipping stones,” you mumble and a tired yawn accompanies your huff of laughter. 

Despite the teasing tone, Legolas can’t stop his smile. “Is this.. perfectly adequate?”

“No,” your head drops and maybe you don’t notice but you rest it on the arm, oblivious to the halt this causes to every single thought Legolas has ever had. “This,” you whisper and he can hear the flutter of your lashes trying to stay open, “is just perfect.”

All Legolas can do is hum in agreement, and even this sounds as shaky as his words would have been had he any of them readily and not swallowed up by the swarm of butterflies swooping through his stomach.

The sun disappears behind the line of trees on the other side of the lake, throwing one last wink of gold over you both before the silver light of the moon laps over you like the waves onto the shore. By the time your hair twinkles like the stars you seem to have lost the fight of keeping your head up; it rests against Legolas, just like most of your upper body that followed one last yawn. He sits still, not daring to move much now that you’re this close to him, your nose against his chest, the bones of your knees resting against his thigh, and all of you enveloped in his cloak.

The fabric rustles slightly as his arm slips from your shoulders to your middle, tugging you closer to keep the heat encased in this cloak and moment you’re sharing.

Legolas's other hand glides into his pockets, finding the stone hidden inside. His hand wraps around it, pressing the smooth surface against his palm.

“Perfect,” he repeats.

[sakurajjam]

MASTERLIST DE NOMES MASCULINOS!

Após cut você vai encontrar 102 opções de nomes masculinos, todos foram tirados de textos que já li e alguns de imagens do pinterest, infelizmente, não encontrei créditos em nenhuma delas. As opções não seguem qualquer tipo de aesthetic ou localidade, apenas são nomes que achei bonitos e interessantes, e espero ajudar alguém! 

Ace

Adonis

Aidan

Aiolos

Alastair

Alden

Alistar

Ambrose

Anders

Anteros

Archer

Arien

Arlo

Asher

Benedict

Bennet

Bentley

Bjorn

Blaise

Blaze

Cairus

Caius

Calian

Casper

Caspian

Chivalry

Corbin

Damian

Daudi

Davide

Dawson

Declan

Demetrius

Denver

Derek

Dexter

Dorian

Draco

Draven

Elio

Finnian

Flavian

Flavian

Flynn

Gabe

Gareth

Gavin

Greyson

Gunnar

Harvey

Hayes

Herik

Hugo

Icaro

Jarrel

Javier

Jonah

Kai

Karter

Kenneth

Kieran

Koen

Lars

Laurent

Leonidas

Lino

Lynus

Lucian

Luther

Lysandre

Magnus

Marlon

Mattias

Maverick

Maximillian

Narcissus

Nemesio

Nero

Niklaus

Noah

Percival

Peter

Pierre

Raiden

Raymond

Regulus

Rhysand

Robin

Rodrick

Ronan

Rune

Scorpio

Sean

Severus

Silas

Sylas

Tristan

Valentin

Viktor

Yves

Zarachy

Zayan

[pandoras-box0]

Potential kinktober list, I have been wanting to make a avatar based kinktober since starting this acc! I hope you all enjoy the theme!

Click on image for better quality

[aakeysmash]

College Sukuna’s masterlist 🌱

What happens when you find yourself living in the same complex as Sukuna in college? Are you going to be able to have enough patience to deal with both him and his 9 year old brother Yuuji?

more thoughts on #college au

🌿 yuuji likes you more than him

🍄‍🟫 sukuna dealing with yuuji’s math homework

🦎 sukuna asks you to watch yuuji for him

🌰 first meeting with college sukuna and yuuji (smut)

🥒 take yuuji to school, become a gym weight

☕️ random cafè encounter turns into picking you up from a shift

🧩 you and sukuna take yuuji trick or treating

🍂 exam season and sugar baby talk

🍃 you and sukuna see each other at a party

🥮 sukuna lets yuuji wear his jersey (angst)

🎄 christmas shopping, matching pajamas and family discounts

🥧 maybes and sunscreen

🥝 a smoothie, but jealousy is the spice in it

🥔 sukuna can’t handle spicy food

🐢 yuuji calls you “mom”

🐫 teach yuuji about vaginas and sukuna will grant you a wish (he gets his nails done)