if i was a sorcerer and i was a dragonlord and i was in love with an arrogant, stupid, gay, kind-hearted, blond haired prince named arthur who is destined to rule all of albion and bring about an era of peace, i would simply not let him die. rip to merlin but im different.
Habrá un cambio en la historia de gwenevere, básicamente ella conocía a Arturo desde antes de convertirse en rey,ella pasó varios años en camelot antes de volver a su tierra de origen,se conocieron debido a que gwen desde muy joven se escapaba del palacio de su familia para ver el pueblo, se hicieron amigos debido a que ambos no les gustaba la idea de estar solos, prometiendose entre sí hacerse compañía hasta el final, sin embargo uno de los aliados de la familia (y secreto mago) llamado lux vio una visión de gwen llorando amargamente por alguien, lux pensó que estaría llorando por arturo ya que en ese momento faltarían pocos días para que Arturo fuera coronado rey además que no tenía fe de que Arturo viviera mucho tiempo al ser un rey tan joven y sin experiencia, lux era muy cercano a gwen, viéndola como su hija, y no queriendo verla sufrir quiso tomar una decisión muy difícil para él;llamó a Arturo para que decirle que gwen había enfermado gravemente y que ella exigía verlo, en ese momento faltaba solo un día para que gwen se fuera a escandinavia y no la volvería a ver en mucho tiempo,lux le dijo que en ese momento podía confesar cualquier cosa a gwen, arturo le confesó a gwen lo que sentía por ella, lo mucho que la amaba, jurando que si se llegan a volver a encontrar el haría todo lo posible por ganarse su corazón y ser digno de ella, en ese momento lux le dijo a Arturo que debía irse para evitar que catherine o los guaridas lo vean, después de que Arturo se fuera lux uso el hechizo de borrado de memoria, según el:"no lo olvidara pero tampoco lo recordará". El hechizo fue efectivo y no podía recordar a Arturo, pero si recuerda su silueta, no podía recordar su rostro pero si su existencia. Resulta que el hombre por el que gwen estaba llorando era su padre, connard, lux en ese momento supo que había cometido un gran error, pero para no meterse en problemas no dijo nada sobre el hechizo, cuando gwen se hizo novia fugitiva y se reencontró con arturo ella no podía reconocerlo, arturo estaba muy confundido y no entendía porque ella no lo recordaba, pero merlin(si llega a existir en el au de @ladysofiaharo) le recomendaria interrogar a lux, lux al saber que Arturo sospechaba decidió soltar la sopa y contó que había borrado sus recuerdos para evitar que sufriera por su "muerte", arturo estaba furioso, gwen siempre había hablado maravillas de lux y el se le ocurrió algo tan bajo como hacer que una persona que amaba olvide la existencia de su mejor amigo(y amor) para "evitar que sufra" cuando fue gracias a Arturo que gwen no se convirtió en una doncella sumisa y obediente, que le dio la valentía de ser ella misma y mostrarse como es,al final lux le devuelve sus recuerdos a gwen, quien le perdono sabiendo que sus intenciones no eran malas y que sólo quería salvarla de la tristeza de perder a alguien importante para ella.
There will be a change in the history of gwenevere, basically she knew Arthur since before he became king, she spent several years on a camelot before returning to her homeland, they met because gwen from a very young age was escaping from the palace of his family to see the town, they became friends because they both did not like the idea of being alone, promising each other to keep company until the end, however one of the family's allies (and secret magician) named Lux saw a vision of gwen crying bitterly for someone, lux thought that she would be crying for arturo since at that moment there would be a few days left until Arthur was crowned king also he had no faith that Arthur would live long as he was such a young and inexperienced king, Lux was very close to Gwen, seeing her as his daughter, and not wanting to see her suffer, he wanted to make a very difficult decision for him; he called Arturo to tell him that Gwen had become seriously ill and that she demanded to see him, in that moment. omento was only one day left before gwen left for scandinavia and he would not see her again for a long time, lux told her that at that moment he could confess anything to gwen, arturo confessed to gwen how he felt about her, how much he He loved her, swearing that if they meet again he would do everything possible to win her heart and be worthy of her, at that moment Lux told Arturo that he should leave to prevent Catherine or the lairs from seeing him, after For Arthur to leave, lux used the memory erasure spell, according to him: "he will not forget it but he will not remember it either." The spell was effective and he could not remember Arturo, but if he remembers his silhouette, he could not remember his face but his existence. It turns out that the man gwen was crying for was her father, connard, lux at that moment knew that he had made a big mistake, but in order not to get in trouble he did not say anything about the spell, when gwen became a runaway girlfriend and met again with arturo she could not recognize him, arturo was very confused and did not understand why she did not remember him, but merlin (if he exists in @ladysofiaharo's au) I would recommend questioning lux, lux knowing that Arturo was suspicious decided to spill the beans and he said that he had erased his memories to prevent him from suffering for his "death", arturo was furious, gwen had always spoken wonders of lux and he came up with something as low as making a person he loved forget the existence of his best friend (and love) to "prevent him from suffering"when it was thanks to Arturo that gwen did not become a submissive and obedient maiden, who gave her the courage to be herself and show herself as she is, in the end lux returns his memories to gwen, who forgives him knowing that his intentions were not bad and that he only wanted to save her from the sadness of losing someone important to her.
Can I get some gay action fan fic!!! I love Charlie so much I fell I love with him watching green street hooligans as a kid!
Hey! Ahh I loved Charlie in Green Street Hooligans too (and I saw that you’re planning to read my Green Street fic, hope you enjoy it!)
So my personal preference, at least for the moment, is to write M/F fics, as that just works best for my smut writing process – I really imagine myself as the reader (while of course trying to remember to avoid descriptions of specific physical characteristics) – BUT I have written a few gender-neutral reader x Jax fics:
Jax Teller x GN!Reader Fics
The Prospect & The President
• Part 1: Suck It Like You Mean It
• Part 2: Ride Me Like a Harley
Make It Rain
• Part 2 (suuuper kinky)
I think two of my tumblr loves @kesskirata and @rayslittlekitten may(?) be writing some M/M action in the Brothel Boy Arthur fics that they’re planning which I’m sure will be hot as hell, so you can stay tuned for those as well! ✨
There’s also at least one Jax x male reader fic written by my friend @malethirsty
Happy reading!! And hopefully you’ve seen our boy in QAF – I haven’t actually watched the series, but I’ve seen some of the gifs (like these) and they’re AMAZING seriouslyyy 🤤
Yoooooo as if I needed any more King Arthur inspo?!??! 😩
Ever since writing He Calls Me Honey Tits I’ve been on an Arthur KICK 👑
GIFs by alphalewolf
Sooooo by now everyone knows that I’m a sucker and a hoe for (1) Sir Hunnam’s dick and (2) dumb punny titles of fics ✨
See – Teller What She Wants to Hear // Jax Teller: Pro Boner // Cum Join the Murder // I Cum in Peace // Will Miller: Sex in Publix // Will You Just Fuck Me Already // Pacific Rimjob // and even my whole KutteVerse AU is based on the pun of Kutte to Black
As for our king, I’ve already written Kink Arthur and will be writing Nights on the Round Table soon (with thanks to the idea from @jessie-writes-things!)
Having set my slutty eyes upon the MOTHERFUCKING STATUE in the Arthur gifs above, I now MUST write a fic by the title of…
✨ Work of Art ✨
(get it? get it?!?! idk why I’m such a clown but I simply can’t stop once I start 🤡)
Inevitably in this fic, reader (who LOVES Art with all her slutty heart) will dotingly remind him what a GOD he is by worshipping his magnificent muscles and massive majestic dick 💪🏼🍆💦
Pairing: King Arthur x F!Reader
Warnings: smut. oral. rimming.
Summary: Arthur convinces his wife that he made the right choice. You show Arthur one thing he didn’t expect.
A/N: @hotdamnhunnam requested a lil rimming with king arthur. i finished this thing in a unisom haze so like...it might be weird. it also went way softer than i intended. yes i used this giant gif of him shirtless idc. also the slang in this is very historically inaccurate but this was also a Guy Ritchie film with giant snakes and wizards.
“What are you doing?” Arthur pants as he peers down at you between his legs.
“Pleasing, my king,” you purr - arching an eyebrow - regarding him with a razor-sharp coolness. You spread your palm across the flat of his stomach. Your other hand traces below him - your deliberate fingers nudging beneath his balls. He jerks.
Your lips quirk down. “Just relax, you squirming bastard.”
“Is that any way to speak to the King of England?” he chides - knocking his foot against your knee. He feels slightly at your mercy - stretched on his back with his ass practically hanging off the bed and you petting at all his more vulnerable parts.
“No,” you murmur as you fist his length and stroke him once - slow as honey - making him hiss. “But I think that I can speak to my husband any way I please.”
He levels you with an even gaze - biting his lip. “Yes,” he admits. “I suppose you can.”
Of course - you can. Of course.
Arthur feels something swell warm and sweet inside his chest as he watches you. Your eyes glitter beneath your lashes before you smile indulgently up at him. His darling wife - the people’s Queen.
You were also the wildest woman he’d ever fucked.
You trace your tongue along the vein of his cock and he bucks into your chin. “Art,” you snap - digging your fingers into his thigh. “You’re going to bruise me if you aren’t careful.”
“Sorry,” he lifts his palms up. “Sensitive.”
You grin. “I mean - you can bruise me if you’d like. Just not on my face.”
He chuckles before sitting up. He sweeps his thumb across your cheek - brushing your hair from your brow. “The court is already recovering from Lord Harrod spotting us in the garden. I don’t need my Queen also struggling to sit down.”
You groan. “Quite the scandal.”
“I’m sure he’ll hold that memory close when he’s alone in his cold bed.”
You glare - fingertips dragging through the curls at the base of his cock. Your lips are slick with spit - glossy and lush. He had never seen anyone more beautiful.
“No,’ he assures you. “It’s not.”
You lean into his touch and he cherishes it. These are the only solid moments you have together - the only moments when you are bare-faced and unguarded. You hate the castle and you hate the people aside from the crew Arthur had brought in like George and Tristan and Bedivere. The Mage and Maggie. All who had fought beside you to get him on the throne.
He bends down to kiss you - his tongue insistent as he parts your mouth. You return it listlessly - your fingers boneless against him. Finally, he pulls away to look at you.
It is as if you’d been doused in a frigid bath. You change like a spark of lightning - he’d shared a careless thought about the court judging you and it had dulled you - honed you down to something flat.
Arthur inwardly curses himself for bringing it up.
He touches your cheek - murmuring your name. Weariness flashes across your face and you blink- eyes darting to his chest. Your lips pull into a frown - shadowed and dim - the light of you pulsing to threads and splinters and he knows that expression.
He tilts your chin up. “I know what you’re doing.”
You swallow thick - trying to turn away from him before he stops you. “Don’t,” he warns.
“Arthur,” You tug at a string in his trousers - the material bunched at his ankles. He’d almost forgotten that he was ass-naked with his wife holding his cock. Not like you had to suffer propriety in his own chambers - his bed. “The Court hates me.”
“Fuck the court,” he hisses as he cradles your face - he leans forward and presses his mouth to your nose - your lips - the taste of his own pre-spend salty and apparent. “I married you because you were the bravest woman I’d ever met. You weren’t like anyone else and you loved me before I became King.”
“Well, you were very talented with your tongue,” you remark half-heartedly. “What woman wouldn’t?”
He scoffs. “Don’t be cheeky about it.”
It always felt like he was waging a battle to get you to come to his side. You simply did not see yourself as he saw you. You did not like to dwell on it and he’d be damned if he didn’t finally get you to submit.
He could recall in vivid detail what it was like to fall for you and ultimately be loved by you. A girl who could fight better than most of his men. No magic or tricks - just talent and experience.
He slides his hand along your forearm. “You’re quite good with that.”
“You haven’t seen me use it.”
“I can guess.”
“You can fuck off.”
“You’re a mouthy girl...fuck...alright...alright I yield.”
He had come buried inside you with your hands around his throat. The forest floor scratching his bare thighs and in between his arse. He’d dug his fingers into your hips as you rode him to a slow gallop and he’d felt his heart slam up into his throat - the tight, wet fist of your cunt twisting around the length of him.
“Fucking hell,” he’d panted as he bucked into you - as he tried to plant his feet to thrust higher - punch the head of his cock against the softer tissue that made girls flood him.
He had picked up plenty of skills when he’d been raised in a whorehouse. He knew most acts and yet you had struck him dumb.
It took him fucking weeks to finally get you to roll over and let him be on top. When you’d allowed it, you went sweet as honey - cradling his face as you watched him lose himself in fucking you. His hands snagging your thighs over his waist - your heels digging into his lower back as he snapped his hips into you. His breath hitching - the pads of his fingers swirling around your pert clit.
He’d gotten caught up in it - combing your hair back as he pressed himself further into your drenched sex - your gazes meeting until it became too much and you both had to avert your eyes.
It was at that moment that it had bloomed between you two like a very obvious flame - oh - it’s more than we thought.
He loved you and it had bludgeoned him brutally over the head.
Fuck me - he had thought as he slid down your belly and your heaving tits. Fuck me - he thought as he parted your thighs and wedged himself between them - tracing his tongue up the seam of your cunt.
Fuck me - as you went rigid - your lower muscles bearing down upon his fingers and his tongue and your knees grinding into his ears.
Fuck me. He was in love.
You had ruined him - slipped between the edges of his body - his ribs and throat and veins. You peeled him open and stuck your hand inside his chest and fisted his heart. His lifeblood spitting between your tight knuckles. You had barreled into him with an unnatural force and he had become lost to it.
So when the court pressured him to marry - to choose a wife - there had been no other answer. There had been options - beautiful women - chaste women - women with lands and connections and promises of political alliances. He couldn’t stand any of them. They were not you. Didn’t come close. He’d have no other.
You had even refused at first - told him he should marry for the kingdom as opposed to what he wanted.
“I’d be a terrible queen.”
“You don’t even know how you’ll take to it.”
“You’re being a stupid girl. I want you as my wife.”
You’d finally acquiesced after he’d practically begged you on his knees. You’d been too horrified to let him go on much longer.
“Alright, you daft bastard. Alright - I’ll do it.”
“Finally. Now - get on the bed so we can consummate this thing.”
“Doesn’t that come after?”
“Fuck if I know.”
He doesn’t think the court necessarily hates you. If anything - the court probably hates him. They’d assumed he could barely read or speak with any intelligence - that he was probably nothing more than someone born under the right stars. For now, the nobles were forced to bow to a boy raised in a brothel and his low-born wife who could wield a sword better than sew.
There was also the peculiar fact that he loved you and you loved him and he had the tendency to want to be inside you at inopportune times.
In other words - a happy marriage.
A good one.
He couldn’t get enough of you. Fucking you all over the castle - hand clasped firmly over your mouth as he rutted against you in some empty stairwell. You’d made him fuck your ass in the library and he’d gotten so lost in his own head that he’d accidentally knocked a whole collection of apparently priceless literature onto the floor before stepping on it with his muddy boots.
“Don’t be cheeky about it.”
You make a noncommittal sound - shifting on your knees before glancing up at him. “You’re a fool.”
“Why?” he asks with mock offense. “Because I defied all of those poncy bastards and married a beautiful woman who knows how to suck my cock?”
You gape at him before you snap your mouth shut, momentarily making Arthur feel a swell of arrogance that he had been able to shock you.
You fix your posture - setting your shoulder as your eyes narrow. You regard him with a new interest - almost excitement. “I can do a lot more than suck your cock, your Majesty.”
You pull his feet out of his trousers before you skate your palms across his thighs - fingers catching in the sparse blonde hair. You take his cock with both of your hands - lazily stroking him off - lowering the hood before you mouth at the head. He bites the inside of his cheek - gritting his jaw as you lave and taste and keep him firmly on the edge. You dart your tongue into the slit - beaded with pre-spend and he groans - the hot spark of nerves sweeping through the length of his cock.
“You’re - you’re fucking good at that.”
His voice comes out much higher than he expected and you smile around him - obviously proud that you’ve once again made him lose his sense. You swallow him whole - taking him to the hilt until your lips press at the base of him. He fists your hair - bringing you down just a bit further so that he nudges the back of your throat. You choke - a wet gurgling sound that makes him weak. When you release him with a pop - there are threads of spit. Your chin is shiny. Your mouth is swollen as you look up at him - disheveled and lusty.
“Do you trust me?” you ask softly. He pushes the tip of his thumb into your lower lip. You bite down hard enough for him to wince.
“With my life,” he replies and you move lower.
You spread him wide - practically shove his knees back. He feels quite vulnerable. You’re lifting his cock so you can drag your tongue along the vein - you slide downward - gently sucking one of his balls into your mouth with a harsh suction that makes his breath fall sharp - his words slurring into something strangled.
You go even lower and suddenly your tongue is slipping between the cheeks of his ass - the tip teasing at the puckered hole and oh fuck - you start actually eating at him as he does to you. You lick him open - tongue pressing deep as you massage his thighs and the sensitive area between his cock and his arse and it’s good. You’d stuck a finger or two inside him before and this is almost similar - the steady pressure - the wet slide - and he nearly hits his release at the thought of his wife doing something so debauched.
You spread him wider - lapping at him with purpose. Short spears burrowing deep. You kiss and press and push before you wrap your hand around his cock and start to stroke him in tandem. It’s almost too much combined. The strange sensations of both you working his cock and fucking him with your tongue. He’s clenching around you as he grunts - incapable of complete sentences other than fucking hells that feels good - you lovely thing - shit you’re tongue - your tongue -
His cock spits across his stomach - painting him in his own seed. You ease your fingers through the mess of it before you’re sucking them into your mouth. He is certain that he hadn’t heard about this at the Red Poppy or maybe he’d forgotten.
“Get that pretty arse up here,” he demands - patting the side of the bed. You do as he says and he turns onto his side so he can grasp the hinge of your jaw. He kisses you all desperate, tasting himself - the musk and the salt and the flesh.
You return it in kind - with fever and hunger that flames more pleasure spiking through his gut. He’d be ready to go again soon no doubt. He slaps your thigh as he noses at your temple - his voice dropping to something gruff and hoarse. There is the ever-present slick of desire that fuels him when he’s around you. He cannot get enough.
A/N: Here’s Part 2 of you and Arthur being lovers during his time in the whorehouse of Camelot*! In which this cheeky sneaky bastard dips into your honeypot 😋🍯 (*I get that the brothel isn’t actually in Camelot (or I don’t think it is?) but I like the sound of it, and I don’t know if ‘beekeeping’ was a real thing back then (they had to get their honey somehow I guess?), but like whatever this is fanfic and I’m too lazy to research all that business 🤡)
Pairing: King Arthur x Reader
Warnings: smut, swearing, Brothel Boy Arthur being a cheeky little shit and not even caring
… Continued from Part 1 [Read Here]
He’s such a whore.
He knows it and has lost count of the lovers he has pleasured in his bed. Yet few if any ever got stuck in his head. His time with you fills him with something strange he’s never felt before.
Taste of you lingers, on his tongue and on his fingers, hours after you smile back at him as you head out the door. Struck somewhere deeper in his heart, that aches whenever you’re apart. It’s not a feeling he can easily ignore. Nor does he want to. Makes him feel rich though he knows that he’s piss-poor. And that’s a feeling that he’s desperate to cling onto. One he’s dying to explore.
Arthur feels guilty for the clients he’s declined, in these few months since you and he have gotten more deeply entwined. The women in this house who view him as their son know that it’s all because there’s someone on his mind. They’d never hold such love against him—they’re too kind—but Arthur feels an endless debt to all these women who have raised him. Fears that his payments have fallen far behind.
Refuses now to take the money that you offer. You’re not just another lover. What you share beneath the covers... it’s too precious to be priced. Profit is nice. But profit cheapens. Pales against the worth of passion as it deepens.
Now you’ve left your piggish husband to be with him and the stakes of love have steepened.
After what happened you’ve nothing to your name, but sin and shame; the trappings of your married life are all that stupid pig’s to claim. And Arthur knows that he’s to blame. Wishes that he could offer you safety and wealth and a whole motherfucking kingdom. But alas this humble brothel is his home.
Part of him can’t help but regret the sorry day when you first came. And yet... part of him knows the kingdom of his bed, his home, is where you’ll always want to come.
Recalls the day when you first met. Sticky and wet. He calls you honey tits because of what the two of you had shared on that sweet day. From the damn start, you made your home in Arthur’s bed and in his heart, and here he prays you’ll always stay.
Your old pig of a husband keeps bees.
Every morning you come to market to sell honey, but seldom return home with very much money. The sweet sticky stuff is a luxury nobody needs.
Every morning when Arthur passes through the streets, you’re the loveliest damn thing he sees.
And you notice him too—but of course you do—bright eyes so blue, your heart can’t help but seize. Who in heaven’s name is he? Stuns you with his smile from afar, and you start seeing stars, all your senses gone dizzy. Just keep your head down and keep busy...
“How much for a taste, honeybee?”
He’s right there, pearly grin and gold hair, as you raise up your gaze and fall into the sapphire haze of his stare. A god, truly. “Excuse me?”
Nods down at the jars that you’ve come here to sell. As per usual, not selling well. “Just a spoonful? No doubt it would taste lovely coming from someone so beautiful.”
That gets you giddy. Dismissive of all sense of conjugal duty and dignity—only fair given your marriage of late has been shitty.
This bastard who just praised your beauty must be the most beautiful thing in this whole fucking city.
You struggle to keep your composure. It’s nearly impossible as he steps closer. “I’m afraid, sir, that you’ll have to buy the whole jar for a taste of the flavor.”
His luscious pink lips turn down into a pout. One you’d very much like to suck off of his mouth. “So no special favors?”
“I promise the product is well worth the price.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He burns you with those blazing eyes blue as ice. Dips a sneaky forefinger in one of your honeypots and you’re so dumbstruck you can’t do a damn thing about it. “Mmm, that’s very nice.”
Slurps the sticky sweet off of his fingertips. Golden slick gleams on his lips.
“Think I’ll take the whole jar now that I’ve had a taste. You can come collect payment tonight at my place.”
Flashes a wink, now that he’s ravished you with the filth of that smirk on his face—and before you can blink—vanished without a trace.
And he’s taken the honeypot.
Something compels you to reach in your pocket to find that he stole even more, while you stupidly stared up at him like a whore; those slick sticky fingers of his also swiped all the money you’d got.
It would be a lost cause to seek out such a thief, you had thought. But much to your relief, you find that he is famed, in these mean streets of Camelot. Not by his name, but by his reputation as a golden god and a glorious fuck. Makes his home in a brothel that happens to be not too far, from the spot where you are, come to market your jars. Just your luck.
He’s an actual man-whore. It’s so fucked it’s funny. You’re smitten with a little bastard who shags for money, snagged your honey, and wants you to grab your payment in a goddamn bordello and good lord you don’t even care anymore.
There you meet him this evening. A beekeeper’s wife setting foot in a whorehouse is shameful beyond believing.
But the son of a bitch had told you to collect payment here after all, and till he’s made you whole, you are not fucking leaving.
He’s already screwed you in more ways than one and you can’t let that go any farther...
“You’re here to see Arthur?” the madam greets you with arched brows, as you enter the whorehouse. “He’s presently occupied with another—”
“So I was,” a familiar voice interrupts, as the scoundrel emerges from one of the rooms hastily pulling his breeches up. “But I’m free now the honeybee’s come by to buzz.”
Before he’s fully pulled up his breeches you catch a quick glimpse of how damn big he is—and he notices—of course he does.
Arthur notices every damn thing. He’s a brilliant, bright little idiot, beacon of virtue despite being such a boldfaced piece of shit. He’s the boy-whore who no one yet knows will soon be the damn king.
For now the once and future king is just the thief who stole your honeypot.
Tonight he’ll make it up to you in sweet and sticky ways that will have you feeling like the luckiest slut in all of Camelot.
... To be continued in Part 3! ✨
I know this was short and cuts off at the good part of the story, but I just really wanted to post what I’ve gotten so far lol sorryyy 🙃
Tag List – Join Here!
@itsme-autumn @rebelwrites @happyhunnams @band--psycho @witching-hour @est11 @edonaspanca @ughdontbeboring @neverland14353 @starbooty @coffeequeenxx @innerpaperexpertcloud @i-love-scott-mccall @six-camelot @alexa-rae-dreamz @justme2042 @awesomenatalia @auroraariza @rochyu @coffeebooksandfandom @inlovewithcharliehunnam @turner-cris @thesuicidalflower @chrmdnbeautiful @xladymacbethx @holl2712 @snow-white-74 @moonlight-fern @stitchesbystults @lilacyennefer @magic-room @sunflower12335 @trishmarieofficial @smoochesfroggos @o0idk0o @beth-winchester21 @flaireandsynch @littlebennettwitchsblog @got-to-love-a-badboy @noneofyourbusinessssblog @notquitecannon @wayward-avenging @travistheaussie @helloheyhihowdyheya @christycarnell6 @dinopin @leathercladmenfics @magictehnique @amberembers @addcrastinator3 @gemini0410 @waywardodysseys @foreve-free @midnvght-lies @wiccanash @batmanb @xbreezymeadowsx @louisianalady @perhapstan @beethebuzzbuzz72 @boredintheglade [hit the 50-tag limit – list to be continued in a reblog of this fic]