no you have to contribute to your fandom if you don't want it to die. most fandoms die because people say 'it's so sad watching the fandom die when the hype dies' without doing anything about it. I'm not saying you have to push out 100k word slow-burn fic, I'm not saying you have to make fan art or gif sets or edits or anything. I'm just saying we as a community should contribute to our fandom if we don't want it to die, and by contributing, I'm talking about giving kudos, commenting on your favorite fics, reblogging your favorite art and just talking about your favorite characters. that's enough to keep a fandom alive. that's the most effective way to keep a fandom alive in my humble opinion.

fandoms die because people stop talking about it, fandoms die because people stop engaging with fan content once the hype is gone. what I'm saying is, mainstream media's hype may be gone, but our fandom can stay alive and thriving if us as a community don't let it die.

Agree!

Thanks @houserautha @austinbutlerslovers @mystra-midnight @seraphicsage @foreverdolly for joining me on the Project Feyd-Rautha Fandom Queste.

And thank for you for supporting so actively dearest Tumblr followers - I cannot tag all of you, and I will be forgetting people - sorry sorry, no ill intent, this is just me multitasking during a call - but I also dont want to tag no one, so let me do this: we see you @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @vikingsbifrost @sandwormrp @littlewormgrant @iamglittering-blog @shamrockqueen @unicoo @staley83 @arianatheangel-girl @nina-isabelle @peageetibbs-ab @slowsweetlove @moonbeammist @jjubilee-fluff @faegoddessog

I cannot help but see quite some extra energy - all of you have contributed to this 🙏🤩🥰 - this is your fandom

Thank you Breitling 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

The inspiration I get from this movie is inexpressible.

A Lloyd Hansen thought for all of his thots.

@overr-writtenn Enjoy!

Imagine:

You grab a coffee at your favorite place and are about to head out the door. When you turn around too fast and collide with a tall, broad, handsome man. Coffee spills over his shirt as the lid to the cup pops off. You're horrified, embarassed, and immediatley trying to placate and apologize. You offer to buy him anything he wants but he starts going off on you.

Pointing a finger at you then storming off, as two other men trail behind him. He tells you to follow him and something in your gut tells you to do it. All of you getting into a big black SUV. "Do you have any idea who I am, cupcake", he asks . Not used to that nickname, you heard the tempered anger in his voice. Shaking your head, the man chuckles.

"Lloyd Hansen, sweetheart. You better hope you memorized my shirt, cuz youre gonna buy me a new one", he says, still a bit of edge to his voice. Nodding, heart racing and palms clammy. Something told you he was a very important-very dangerous- man. He drops you off at an upscale mens store and says you have ten minutes. Hurrying to met his demands, you find the shirt and buy an extra as a gesture.

You'll earn back that three hundred dollars later. One of the other men, James, opens the door for you and you thank him. Lloyd asks the driver, August, to put up the partition. As he does so, Lloyd makes you straddle his lap and put on one of the new shirts for him.

When you're done, you notice the tent in his pants. A small pool of your own arousal now slowly forming in your underwear. You couldnt deny the power Lloyd held was intoxicating. "Kiss the ring, babycakes", he says, unashamed. Quickly doing as asked, looking up at him from your lashes, head still tilted down.

A smug smirk on his face, as you carefully sit besides him now. "Im feeling generous today, sunshine. I wont chop your head off. There's something in you that I like. Even if some of your qualities could use some fixing. Heres my number. Call me three days from now. Then I'll consider more ways you can be useful to me", he says matter of factly. Slightly dumbfounded, you manage to eke out a "yes sir", before exiting the car. A soft sound from Lloyd that sounded like "good girl".

August interjected to Lloyd that they had to go. Lloyd pointing to the card one last time before he closed the door. "Remember, pumpkin, three days", he says before he closed it.

Who the hell was that? More importantly, what more could he want now?

Pairing : Alpha Bucky x Reader

Warnings : R18, Fluff, Angst, sad moments

Word count : 2382

First chapter : Previous Chapter

Bucky Masterlist

Summary : As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat.

You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?

Your skin hummed with a pleasant warmth. A sign of comfort and satisfaction from a happy omega. He held you, breathing in that same tranquility as he rested his lips over the soft skin of your shoulder. You were his safest haven, something to chase away worry and burdening thoughts.

Sadly, your presence was still attached to a lingering sin. A chain following behind you without your knowledge. He found it better to ignore such a presence, soaking in your delightful scent as a small sliver of something terrible burrowed further into the bottom of his belly.

Amazing series. Really enjoying this. Thank you

Quibvs is a menace

You put that hair back where it came from or so help me

Scarring Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen into matrimony

Summary: After securing a coerced marriage to Khalida, a formidable Fremen leader, Feyd-Rautha awakens, covered in scars. Wounds she inflicted as proof that their union is not just political but a showcase of survival and hardship. Bound by Fremen customs, Khalida forces him through a rite of passage: a fortnight of endurance where pain and pleasure determine his worth. Feyd-Rautha, believing he can control her, quickly realizes she is playing him instead, drawing him into a battle of strength where suffering is the price of acceptance. In surrendering to the pain, he loses himself, only to be saved by his new wife. 

Tags: MDNI, Feyd-Rautha is his own trigger warning, manipulative little shit Feyd, manipulative wife of Feyd, power-struggles, love is a battle field, giving Feyd, dominated Feyd, Feyd asking permission, Feyd losing control, severe blood loss, cat nails (the kink toy), scarification (do I even need to say macabre?), smut (oral – Feyd giving to all his might, and explorations of other forms of engagement), non-con (because everything is non-con if Feyd is being manipulative) 

Word count: 6.3k 

Masterlist of one shots - a contribution for @dailydoseofaustinbutler (topic: tattoos...) - dedicated to @faegoddessog for blood related reasons, @shamrockqueen who appreciates a classical reference here and there, and @peageetibbs-ab - bc she also gets to salvage him

+++ 

The na-Baron woke up in a comfortable bed in his cool chambers in the Arrakeen. As he tried to get up, a beautiful woman rushed to him, placed her warm hand on his shoulder and hushed him down: “don't get up Feyd. You lost much blood and still need to recover” placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.  

He looked up at her as he felt the pain coil through his body. Removing the thin blanket that was covering his frame, he saw he was covered in scars. 

And then he recalled. 

💕💕💕

A marital bed bathed in his blood!!

If they EVER kill him, I am officially leaving the Marvel fandom 😓😭

Snap shot by @shellshocklove

Savage Bonds by @foreverdolly

Never gonna give you up by @psycheetamore

Who’s the boss? By @darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor

The Oath by @thecleverdame

The paramour by @historygeekfics

Hearts?

❤️ = I’ve only read it once but it lives rent free in my brain and haunts my naughtiest of thoughts.

❤️❤️ = I’ve read it multiple times and Continue to Go back to it time and time again.

Thank you so much for including my The Paramour series in your rec list, lovely person ❤️😊

Although I haven't written anything new for a while, it's always wonderful to hear how much folks have enjoyed my past fics 🥰 Much love to you!

@historygeekfics I loved that story and all that accompanied it. I found it on AO3 and keep it safely in my bookmark folder.

Chris Evans in those fucking Gucci Ads melt me into a puddle every damn time I see them 🥴🤤

Agreed.

So fucking sexy.

But you're forgetting the guys that came from the ad

I am just at loss of words bc how the hell have i never seen these before???

brain broke

I always forget about these commercials and then I see them again and I don’t know how to fucking act

Pairing: Curtis Everett x The bitchy love interest from the front of the train®️

RETURN TO SENDER | simon riley

It was a joke. A letter to a criminal—UK's most wanted. You told him he was hot. Told him you were a virgin. Left your address, because it’s not like he’d ever get out, right?

✉ 2K FOLLOWER SPECIAL .ᐟ | [ AO3 ]

Who knew working at Tesco would be such a fucking nightmare?

 It’s almost absurd how people can forget how to use their brains the second they step through the automatic doors. It’s a massive store, but you’ve come to believe that its sheer scale only amplifies some customers’ overwhelming stupidity. 

You find yourself watching, day in and day out, as people stumble over the easiest parts of shopping, like scanning a barcode or finding the right aisle despite the sign above their heads. It’d be laughable if it wasn’t so damn frustrating. You can’t even afford the luxury of venting because you're stuck behind the register, forced to plaster on a fake smile, nodding while they hold up the line, your eye twitching as you answer the same question for the umpteenth time in 30 minutes.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of gritted teeth and hollow patience, your shift comes to an end. The relief is brief, but it’s there, at least. You drag yourself out of the store, shoulders slumped under the weight of the day. The commute home isn’t any prettier, but it’s a kind of mindless ritual that’s grown familiar over time—20 minutes on the train, crammed between strangers who are just as exhausted, just as done with the grind. The train lurches and hums beneath you, a rhythmic noise that almost lets you forget the stress. But you’re too far gone for that kind of escape, your mind still whirling with all the things you’ve had to swallow throughout the day.

The train empties as the sun sinks below the horizon, each stop peeling away another layer of the late afternoon crowd. You finally step off the train at the final stop, the air crisper than when you left for work nearly 11 hours ago. The walk home is short, but it’s long enough for your legs to remind you that you’ve been standing for hours. Ten long minutes to your flat, a familiar route that feels both comforting and suffocating in its monotony.