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[cextile]

how can you authentically be yourselves?

one → two → three

how to read this pick a pile reading? ♡ the images above are your pick a pile options - see which pile immediately pulls you in. If nothing stands out right away, take a moment to look at each pile/image. the one your attentions keeps coming back to is likely your pick. if more than one pile calls to you, trust that too. you can read both and take what resonates. and hey, if none of them feel like a match, no big deal. not every reading is meant for right now. come back another time — this reading isn’t going anywhere.

pile one ☆

I just wanna put something out there, and it’s from a place of clarity and not judgement. 

A lot of you guys are in denial of who you are, like there is a disparity between who you are and who you think you are – or who you want the world to believe you are. You might have this inflated self-image, and it’s like a version of you that you hold onto because it feels good, but it’s not rooted in truth.

Right now, some of you are letting the idea of manifesting become a distraction from actual manifesting. You are crossing the line between manifesting and fantasizing, and it’s making you hollow from the inside.This is keeping you stuck. 

Confront yourself and see yourself as who you really are. Look in the mirror. 

Where are you really? And where do you want to be?

Also, you carry this untethered vibe - like you're in your head letting  numerous possibilities, things, ideas, and fantasies free flow. But at the same time, you're hyper-defensive and ready to attack, ready to defend your energy, recoil the moment things feel off. 

You’ve been holed up in your own world for too long – mentally, emotionally, maybe even physically. It’s time to come up for air. ‘

Socialise, talk to people, do something real and grounded and let the world meet you as the ‘that person’. 

btw, being that person' isn’t about waiting until you’ve arrived at some perfect version of yourself – it’s about moving like them now. It’s not about having it all together, it’s about doing the things that align with that energy, even if no one else sees it yet. you don’t become them by chasing a goal – you become ‘that person’ by deciding you already are. the rest  will catch up, promise. 

So yeah, embody your dream self now. even if you're still growing or finding your way, it’s the small choices – the way you show up – that shapes who you already are. 

Grab life by the reins, not just drifting through it like a passenger.  embody the energy of a person who knows their worth, who embraces habits that build them up every day.

Start valuing your physical appearance more. Like, you know, brush your hair, get a hair routine (idk why but my cards were focusing on hair soooooo much. Also a little bit on eating healthy & loosing/gaining weight for a good physique), go to the gym and start cherishing yourself as you are.

Nurture yourself , step away from the mental negative rut and do things that give you a happy little buzz in ways that actually matter (I’m not talking about the quick fix scrolls or fleeting distractions), and watch everything change. 

Also, I want you to  really, really, really, really know this: disappointment, heartbreak, denial, every single negative thing that's seeped in your bones and your expectations of the future is not what's waiting for you ahead.

And I pinky promise there is not going to be any space for disappointment in your dictionary babe. What's ahead is bright – and it’s waiting for you.

read another pick a pile reading by @cextile

pile two ☆

shorter reading than the other piles because i think for alot of the people in this collective - time’s tight, priorities matter, and scrolling through readings on tumblr isn’t one of them.

also this reading had me laughing, fr. like, y’all don’t even know. the cards lined up too perfectly & the message is playfully blunt. also I swear I want to send your reels to explain the vibe better than this long-ass text ever could.

the way you can authentically be yourselves right now is just by working for yourselves.

i rlly like your vibe btw. you guys are actually so funny and weirdly lovable, like if you weren’t so deep in your serious life stuff rn, i’d 100% wanna be your friend. but like… lowkey focus on yourself right now.

now, everything I say is going to lead you to your most authentic self.

for my tarot readers, the king of swords reversed lined up and then immediately the king of cups came out.

it’s like, don’t give up. I know you’re fcking tired, but you’re so close to stepping into prosperity. keep going.

your era of trials? It’s almost over. what’s ahead? achievements. recognition.

feathers in your hat.

so you know, right now? the relationship that matters most is the one you have with yourself.

just keep working on yourself.

like, keep mining for the diamonds and don't give up.

(lmao the image above is all i want to say)

don't get distracted by the vibes. don't party or drink too much. just keep your wits to yourself.

when you have a goal to achieve and you hang out with other people, those people might not have goals. so their lack of direction will serve as a distraction.

guys trust your energy, trust your path, trust your journey.

because if you continue to this path, your era of trials and tribulation will be over.

also, a reminder. don't get into a relationship that is demanding you to put a lot of time and energy into it.

for my people who love toxic men, get into a relationship with yourself right now.

that's the best thing.

good luck guys🍀😊

read another pick a pile reading by @cextile

pile three ☆

hi! so you guys struggle mainly with the inner world, its so rich & chaotic, and that spills into your outer expression.

you guys are like fog - so mentally dispersed. your identity, sense of self is just so spread out and variable that it's actually getting difficult for you to consume and contain it yourself. 

so you need to fall back on a structure that is well defined, alright? This structure could have different interpretations for you guys, so I am not elaborating more on that. 

you guys have to do shadow work to really understand where this variability, out-stretch in your sense of identity and all your patterns are coming from.

you know, suppressed tension inside of you that you really need to work upon, do shadow work on. it's like, you have tight springs in your body - all this tension, all this trauma, all this negativity - pushed down, waiting to uncoil itself. 

so, where you are suppressing things of yourself that do not need to be suppressed, and, you know, not necessary to be suppressed.

but all that’s really happening is you’re still suppressing parts of yourself that never needed suppression. you think you're holding it in, sometimes you don’t even realise that you are holding it in - but what you’re actually doing is holding on - holding on to the idea that there’s something in you that needs to be dealt with. 

let go

also, there’s a need to be conscious of what you speak. 

not everything needs to be said, right? 

a lot of times we say things out of this need to want people to validate our experiences, but you need to understand that not everyone will receive your unfiltered words as you intend them, you risk misunderstanding, misjudgment, and even a warped image of yourself being formed in their eyes.

There is a need of introspection inside yourself, and this need of, like, fixing what you think, nah what you know, is not right about yourself.

It could be a mental rut you need to get out of, you know.

stop letting your perception rot in the same setting. sometimes we get into our own headspace so much that it negatively hampers ourselves, we start bedrotting, letting things stay stagnant, not necessarily in your physical reality, but in how you perceive this physical reality and in your headspace, things need to keep changing and be active.

so yup, you can’t let that stillness calcify. there has to be motion, even if it’s just in awareness. You have to breathe life back into your mind and body.

It could also be that you need introspection in some aspects of your social self - things that are quietly hampering your day-to-day life.

Or maybe it’s your external appearance. Because, let’s be honest, how we look does help boost our confidence. soo if you want to fix something about yourself that you don't like, then you can go ahead and do it.

Plus, try become an Instagram baddie or a Pinterest doll, you know? what I mean is embody a particular aesthetic that makes you comfortable. I’m not saying this to pressure you into conforming to beauty standards - it's more like polishing yourself externally, so that you can feel more confident and comfortable in the environment and the places you move through. So you can walk into a room and not shrink.

again, just to repeat on a similar note - it would really, really do a lot of good if you start exercising, working toward that dream physique, and genuinely putting in the effort to glow up and become your dream version.

make a checklist of all your tasks and responsibilities, and aim to fulfill it - one task at a time. whether it’s cleaning your room, replying to texts, or researching something that matters to you - get it done. it doesn't matter how much it will help you professionally, financially, familially, or in relationships - do it to help yourself. you'll be able to present yourself as a more proud person, as someone who sticks to things and gets them done, right? it’s about stacking those wins and watching your self-respect rebuild.

Also, actually get out - talk to people, smell the flowers, connect with others, and do the most mundane tasks with them. go with your sibling to the grocery store and help your fam out by grocery shopping. ask your friends to meet up for a walk. It doesn't have to be an intense thing - let your relationships flourish amidst the most mundane things.

read another pick a pile reading by @cextile

that's it for this reading. take care of yourself.

with love, Ananya ♡

[vingtetunmars]

Take a Hint

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: You were only supposed to help Din Djarin with one bounty. But after the mission, you stuck around — teasing, flirting, testing the waters. He never reacted the way you hoped, always hiding behind practical words and stoic silence.

Or five times you thought Din was dense and one time you realized you were wrong.

Tags: Fluff, 5+1 things, miscommunication, SFW, Din Djarin is oblivious, he's trying his best, one sided, or is it???, idiots in love, protective Din Djarin, Din Djarin being soft (in his own way). No descriptions of reader. No mentions of Y/N.

A/N: I know it's a lot shorter than my other Din fanfic, but I hope you'll enjoy this one as well. If you have any requests, suggestions, or thoughts, feel free to send me a message. Reblogs are appreciated. Please do not steal or cross-post it on another platform without asking. Thank you.

Word Count: 2.7k

masterlist

1.

You stretched your arms above your head, letting out a sharp sigh as the bounty’s unconscious body thudded to the floor of the Razor Crest’s cargo hold.

“That’s one way to say job well done,” you muttered, brushing space dust from your jacket sleeve before slinking into the co-pilot’s chair.

Behind you, Din Djarin closed the ramp and began checking the carbonite chamber, ensuring the target was fully frozen and secure. He hadn’t spoken much since you reached the ship — not that he was ever particularly chatty — but you chalked that up to the Mando brand of "taciturn charm."

“Well, that was fun,” you said brightly, spinning halfway in the chair to face him. “You always do jobs this entertaining, or was this just to impress me?”

His helmet tilted slightly toward you. “It wasn’t supposed to be fun.”

“No? Shame. You looked pretty good out there.” You gave him a teasing grin and leaned back, resting your boots on the edge of the control panel.

He turned fully toward you now, helmet glinting in the light of hyperspace pre-jump. “You almost got shot.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t let that happen.” You pointed a finger at him, lazily. “Knight in shiny beskar and all that.”

“…I hired you for your recon work. That’s all.”

You shrugged. “Sure, Mando. I’m just saying, you throw a girl against a wall to shield her from a blaster bolt, she might start thinking you care.”

He walked past you to the cockpit, flicking switches like nothing had happened. “We leave in ten.”

You laughed under your breath and leaned back further, hands behind your head. “You’re cute when you pretend I don’t fluster you.”

No response. Just the cold silence of a man fully immersed in his pre-flight check.

Not even a head tilt this time.

You pursed your lips, then smirked.

Alright. That one might have been too subtle…for him.

But you weren’t going anywhere just yet.

2.

You leaned against a stack of fuel canisters, watching Din as he crouched next to the hull of the Razor Crest, speaking low and serious with Peli Motto. Something about coolant lines or hyperdrive relays—you weren’t listening. Mostly because he’d taken off his gloves again, and there was something about watching his fingers flex against a piece of machinery that scrambled your thoughts like eggs on a Tatooine skillet.

Grogu was toddling near your feet, cooing up at you. You bent down and gave his ear a little scratch. “He’s lucky he’s got you, kid,” you said. “Shame you’re the only one in this partnership with any emotional intelligence.”

Grogu blinked at you slowly, then burbled in agreement. Or maybe hunger.

“Mando!” you called out, hopping off the crates and sauntering toward the ship. “Since we’re stuck in Mos Eisley for a bit… how about I buy you a drink?”

He didn’t even look up from where he was tightening something under the ship’s belly.

“No.”

You arched an eyebrow. “You sure? Could be a bonding moment.”

“No.”

You sighed, pushing your tongue against your cheek to hide the smile. “Are you afraid I’ll drink you under the table? Or that you’ll have fun?”

“I don’t drink on the job.”

“We’re not on a job,” you replied smoothly. “We’re in between. There’s a difference.”

He finally looked up at you, visor catching the Tatooine twin suns. “We don’t need to bond.”

You opened your mouth, but then shut it.

Instead, you gave a mock salute and walked off muttering, “Alright, Casanova, loud and clear.”

Later, you were helping Peli hook up a new motivator coil when she snorted and said, “You’re wasting your time, sweetheart.”

You turned your head. “Excuse me?”

“With him,” she nodded toward Din, who was now sitting on the ramp with Grogu in his lap, feeding him a little packet of something green and mushy. “You’ve been laying it on thicker than Bantha butter, and he’s just… nothing.”

You groaned, flopping back onto the sand beside her. “Is he dense, or just emotionally stunted?”

“Both,” Peli replied cheerfully. “Don’t take it personally. I’ve seen rancors with better romantic instincts.”

You covered your face with your hands. “Hopeless.”

“Yep.”

You peeked through your fingers, catching sight of Grogu now waddling toward you with food smeared across his mouth.

“Well,” you murmured, sitting up and letting him crawl into your lap, “at least one of them likes me.”

Peli patted your shoulder, greasy handprint and all. “That’s a start.”

3.

The alley was narrow, the kind of cramped, shadowed crevice that smelled like rust and desperation. You ducked in first, tugging Din’s arm behind you just as blaster fire cracked against the duracrete wall.

“I told you that guy looked too twitchy to be a clean drop,” you hissed.

“You waited until we were already inside to tell me that,” Din replied, voice flat but calm as ever. You could practically hear the slight raise of his brow under the helmet.

“Call it a hunch,” you muttered.

Another volley of shots whizzed past, and Din shoved you further into the shadows. He followed in right after, pinning you both against the wall as the enemy patrol ran past. There was barely a breath between you. His arm was braced next to your head, his chest pressed fully against yours, armor cold even through your clothes.

You tilted your head up slowly, voice low. “You know, if you wanted me pressed up against you, Mando, you could’ve just asked.”

His helmet was angled so close you could see your own smirk reflected in the beskar.

“Stay quiet,” he said.

“That’s all you’re gonna say? Really?” You leaned in just a little, voice all honey and trouble. “No comment on the close quarters? The dim lighting? The way your knee is pressed against my—?”

“I said quiet.”

You let out a long, exaggerated sigh, head thudding back against the wall. “I’m just saying, most people would at least acknowledge the tension here.”

Din shifted his weight slightly, and you thought maybe—maybe—that you’d finally gotten through.

Instead, he pulled back just enough to glance outside the alley. “They’re gone. Let’s move.”

And then, just like that, the warmth of his body was gone, his cape brushing your arm as he slipped back into the light.

You stood there for a second longer, staring after him.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, jogging to catch up. “I was practically breathing pick-up lines in your face, and you gave me nothing. Not even a grunt.”

4.

It had been a long day. The kind that sank into your bones and made even the air feel heavy.

The bounty had fought harder than expected, and Din had taken the brunt of it — bruised ribs, a split lip under the helmet, and a noticeable limp that he stubbornly refused to acknowledge.

Now, inside the dim hull of the Razor Crest, the silence between the two of you felt comfortable. Grogu was already asleep in his hammock, snoring softly like some tiny, ancient gremlin.

Din was sitting on the edge of the cot, working one-handed to undo a section of his chest plate. You noticed the stiffness in his shoulders, the way he winced every time he shifted his weight.

“Here,” you said gently, crossing the space to kneel in front of him. “Let me help.”

He started to protest, of course. “I’ve got it.”

You gave him a look, one you knew he could feel even if he couldn’t see your face. “I didn’t ask if you could. I said let me.”

He hesitated… and then let his hands drop.

Your fingers moved carefully, familiar now with the clasps and locks of his beskar. You worked slowly, undoing the armor piece by piece — chest plate, gauntlets, pauldrons — setting each one down beside you with reverence, like they mattered. Like he mattered.

His undershirt was dark with sweat and streaked with grime. You resisted the urge to reach for a cloth and clean him up. Instead, your hands hovered near the edge of his vambrace.

“You always take care of everyone else,” you said softly. “Let someone take care of you, just this once.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then: “You don’t have to.”

“I know.” You smiled faintly, not looking up. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

You unlatched the vambrace slowly. His forearm tensed beneath your fingers, the bare skin warm.

He didn’t say anything to that. But he didn’t stop you, either.

When you finally looked up, you found his visor fixed squarely on you. The silence stretched between you like a held breath.

If he felt anything—warmth, tension, the way your fingers lingered against the edge of his wrist—he didn’t say.

Just a small nod.

And then: “Thank you.”

You nodded back, lips curled in the barest smile. “Anytime.”

You stood and walked past Grogu’s hammock, brushing a hand over his ears as you went.

From behind you, you could feel the weight of Din’s stare following you the whole way.

5.

The Razor Crest creaked under the weight of frost, a low groan echoing through the hull as wind battered the exterior.

You were both grounded — a storm too thick to fly through and a bounty who was likely just as frozen as the damn planet. The heating system, true to its usual charm, had sputtered out three hours ago.

You were curled into yourself on the floor of the ship, back against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around your knees. Your jacket was decent, but nothing short of a portable sun was going to fight the kind of chill creeping into your bones.

Grogu was warm in his little insulated pod, snuggled deep in his blanket nest, occasionally letting out a snore.

Across the room, Din sat on a crate, sharpening one of his vibroblades like it was just any other night. No sign of discomfort. No sign he was feeling the same way your teeth were chattering.

You didn’t say anything. You weren’t sure if it was pride or exhaustion, but the silence stretched.

Until finally, without looking up, he spoke.

“You’re cold.”

“No kidding,” you muttered, breath puffing visibly in front of your face. “What gave it away? The blue lips or the full-body shiver?”

He didn’t rise to the sarcasm. Instead, he reached into the compartment behind him and pulled out a heavy, worn blanket.

“Come here,” he said, scooting to the edge of the crate and patting the space beside him.

You blinked at him. “You’re inviting me to share body heat?”

“Purely practical.”

You snorted as you stood, dragging yourself over. “Right. Not because you enjoy my company or anything ridiculous like that.”

He didn’t answer, just opened the blanket as you sat down beside him.

It was warmer than you expected. His armor had retained some heat, and beneath it, his body was a furnace. The blanket went around both of you, his arm loosely draped behind your shoulders to keep it up.

The silence settled again.

Then, a little softer: “Better?”

You tilted your head toward him. “If I said no, would you let me shove my hands under your shirt?”

He didn’t so much as flinch. “No.”

You laughed, but it was quiet. Tired. The kind of laugh that cracked into something tender. You leaned your head against his shoulder, your voice dropping low.

“...Thanks, Din.”

He didn’t say anything. But you felt it — the shift. A subtle lean into you. The way his fingers adjusted the blanket more tightly around you both.

And then Grogu stirred in his pod, peeking out, blinking at the sight of you nestled together. He blinked once. Twice. And let out a soft, amused coo.

You met his gaze with a smirk.

+1

You stopped calling him Din.

Not on purpose. It just… slipped away.

It had started subtly: the teasing softened, the smiles dimmed. You kept your hands to yourself more, kept your jokes to Grogu instead. You still worked with Din, still followed him into the fire and out again, but the space between you felt wider than it ever had.

And maybe it was for the best.

Maybe you'd crossed a line, misread something. Maybe your flirting had made him uncomfortable, and he was too kind—or too stoic—to say it outright.

You hadn’t realized how much it hurt to pull away until you were halfway across a frozen plain, following behind him in silence, and he didn’t say a word about the wind biting at your skin.

He always offered the blanket before. Always stood just a little closer.

Now?

Nothing.

You tried to tell yourself it was fine. You were fine. You weren’t here to fall in love with a man who never showed his face. You were here because you wanted to be.

You didn’t expect him to care.

Then one night, as the ship drifted through hyperspace and Grogu was snoring softly in his hammock, Din stood in the middle of the hull, hands loose at his sides. Watching you.

“Why are you avoiding me?” he asked.

You blinked from where you sat on your bunk, caught mid-polishing your blaster. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

You looked down. “I just figured maybe I was… pushing too much. Saying things I shouldn’t have. Being… flirty.” The word stung coming out of your mouth. “Didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

There was a long pause. You expected silence. Maybe a brush-off. But instead:

“You weren’t.”

You glanced up. He stepped closer, the quiet clink of his armor unusually loud in the quiet. “I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?”

He hesitated, then said carefully, “I was flirting back.”

You blinked. “You what?”

He tilted his head. “You remember the first job? When we caught that bounty together, and I told you to leave right after?”

You nodded slowly.

“I made sure you got a full share. Paid for your passage off-world. Protected you during the shootout. I don’t do that for strangers.”

You swallowed. “That’s not—”

“And on Tatooine,” he cut in, voice quiet but firm. “You asked me to bond over a drink. I told you we didn’t need to bond.”

You furrowed your brow. “Exactly. You turned me down.”

“No,” he said. “I said, ‘We don’t need to bond.’ What I meant was—we already do. I didn’t think I needed more than what we had.”

Your mouth opened, then closed.

“In the alley,” he continued, stepping even closer, “when I had you pinned against the wall… You think I didn’t want that? That I wasn’t aware of how close we were?”

You felt your pulse jump.

“I wanted it,” he said simply. “I just couldn’t say it then. Couldn’t risk you thinking it was anything less than mutual.”

You sat up straighter, the air tight in your lungs.

He took another step, now close enough that you could feel the shift of his weight. “When you helped me take off my armor… I don’t let anyone do that. No one touches it. No one touches me.”

“Din—”

“And the blanket? On the ice planet?” His voice gentled. “That wasn’t practical. That was me finding the only excuse I had to hold you. To make sure you were okay.”

Your heart thundered in your chest.

“I thought I was being clear,” he said, finally. “But I guess I’m not great at… this.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to catch up. “You… you’ve been flirting this whole time?”

“As much as I know how to.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then, softly—warmly—he added, “So. You gonna keep pulling away? Or are we finally gonna admit we’ve been on the same page since the beginning?”

You stood, moving toward him until you were close enough to touch his chestplate.

“You could’ve said something.”

“I just did.”

You smiled, helpless and stunned. “Guess we’re both kind of hopeless.”

His hand brushed your arm, hesitant but deliberate. “Maybe. But not anymore.”

And just like that, all the quiet tension between you—weeks of half-meant jokes and unspoken affection—finally settled into something real. Something shared.

And just like that, all the quiet tension between you—weeks of half-meant jokes and unspoken affection—finally settled into something real. Something shared.

Not lost in translation anymore.

[acradelius]

Can I request some 049 x female Reader headcanons where the Reader is pregnant with 049’s child?

"We're Expecting! Don't Tell The O5 Council!"

Fandom: Secure. Contain. Protect. (SCP)

Pairing: SCP-049 ("Doctor") x Female! Researcher! Reader

Rating: Lime [🟢] - (Equivalent to PG-13)

Warnings/Mention Ofs: Human! Reader, Researcher! Reader, Human x SCP, Human x SCP Relationship, AFAB! Reader, Female Pronouns Used For Reader, Unexpected Pregnancy, Most Likely Post! Contaiment Breach, Slightly Overprotective Doctor, Very Involved Parental! Doctor, Internally "Paranoid"! Doctor, Limited "Normal" Pregnancy Customs.

Word Count: 873 Words

If you'd like to be tagged for all posts, certain fandom posts, or certain character posts then feel free to message me!

There wasn’t much doubt that amongst the scale of ‘Definitely Not Human-Like’ to ‘As Human As Could Possibly Be, But Still Not Actually Human’, Doctor was more so teetering towards the edge of being more human-like than majority of the other S.C.P. beings that were also residing within the containment site, even still after the initial breach. That didn’t stop the researcher, (Y/N), from initiating a relationship with the Doctor, and eventually it became as intimate as it possibly could have. Despite that intimacy, there wasn’t necessarily ever a thought that a pregnancy between Doctor and (Y/N) could possibly happen, at least until viewing the results of the pregnancy tests that (Y/N) had taken. While there was some initial anxiety when it came to telling Doctor, he was actually pretty excited about the news! 

While within the early stages of their relationship Doctor had respected (Y/N)’s boundaries for space and privacy, now that she’s carrying their child, there’s not really such a thing as space and privacy anymore. (Y/N) couldn’t even make the five steps from Doctor’s desk to the bathroom within his laboratory without him jumping up to assist her. “Are you doing well, Chère? Do you need any assistance? Is there anything concerning the baby?” With that being said, the security around the laboratory is increased as well. There’s also more reanimated subjects that are placed around the laboratory, and even the most common places that (Y/N) typically ventures to and from, for an extra form of protection. It had gotten to the point that Doctor had to venture through the site looking for something, but didn’t want to disturb (Y/N) from their nap, so he had one of the subjects lay in the bed with her for protection.

Doctor is absolutely involved with the baby, ever since the moment that (Y/N) had revealed to him that she was pregnant with his child. He would spend literal hours just reading out loud to her and the child, whether it be his own research papers, random magazine pages found strewn across hallway floors, or would even spend time reading the files based on his other S.C.P. companions. It’s the same thing when it comes to listening to music, even if it’s various languages that (Y/N)’s unfamiliar with or hasn’t even heard of before. Doctor swears that while he hasn’t had any children before, that he’s done his fair share of research when it comes to pregnancies and even early childhood education, though (Y/N) is a bit unsure since it’s been quite some time since Doctor has been within the general public, especially in today’s day and age. He claims that it’s critical, and a long term benefit, that a developing baby experiences these things.

This pregnancy is definitely something more than just a generic pregnancy for Doctor, but he’s not going to make that known to (Y/N) unless he absolutely has to. As stated above, he’s never had a child before, and hasn’t came across anyone else like himself, so he’s unaware of what to actually expect when it comes to someone like him having a child within someone such as her. He’s not just monitoring the basic and typical pregnancy symptoms and such when it comes to watching over his beloved and her pregnancy. Secretly, he’s also monitoring for any abnormalities, anything that could end up becoming alarming or dangerous for (Y/N) or the baby, and even both. He doesn’t want to lose either of them, and therefore he would rather be able to take the risk of doing this part of the monitoring in secret if that means making sure that (Y/N) and their baby is doing well. While he was alone for the majority of his life before she had come along, Doctor isn’t sure if he would be able to continue on if he was to lose her.

Whenever (Y/N)’s due date, or at least an estimate of when the due date would be, there’s only a certain few other S.C.P. beings that Doctor is comfortable with her being around, even if she’s interacted with them for quite some time before the initial breach. He doesn’t want to take any chances with something happening to (Y/N) or the baby, especially with how sporadic and violent some of them can be. He only wants those that he can absolutely trust to be around them, at least at first, those that he knows will also do their best to make sure that things are going smoothly and stress-free. (Y/N) mentioned how this was slightly unfair once and therefore (Y/N) was only allowed to interact with who he didn’t deem safe enough through the intercom to his laboratory, or writing to each other with erasable markers on the window. This even means creating a whole different room or section of the site that Doctor’s located within to treat his “patients”, as he wants to make sure that the environment is going to be safe and sterile, or as sterile as it can be, for a safe, healthy delivery of his beloved little baby to be.

[darlinluxx]

𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ

pairing : saebyeok x fem!reader

fluff

warnings : none

summary : when you and your girlfriend are taking a walk at night, you spot a stray cat

a/n : i have a strong feeling she has a soft spot for cats

if you have any requests, feel free to message me <3

𝐓he city hums around you, a low, throbbing heartbeat of a million lives. neon signs flicker, painting the wet pavement in streaks of electric blue and fiery orange. you and Saebyeok walk shoulder to shoulder, your hands brushing occasionally in the cool night air. her usual guarded expression is softened by the dim light, the lines around her eyes less pronounced. you appreciate these moments, the quiet intimacy that blooms between you in the spaces between the chaos.

Saebyeok’s silence isn’t the uncomfortable kind. it’s a comfortable quiet, one that allows you both to simply be. she glances at you, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. you return it, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the barely-there summer warmth.

you’re just past a small alleyway, the air suddenly damper and smelling faintly of rain and discarded cardboard, when you hear it. a small, plaintive meow, barely audible above the city’s din. you stop, your head cocked, listening.

Saebyeok pauses too, her sharp gaze scanning the darkened alley. you follow her line of sight, and there, huddled beneath a rusted dumpster, you see it. a small stray cat, its fur patchy and matted, two luminous green eyes blinking up at you both in the gloom.

it meows again, a little louder this time, a sound that tugs at your heart. it’s almost comical how small it looks next to the huge dumpster.

“poor thing.” you whispered, and Saebyeok’s gaze flicks back to you, a flicker of something in her eyes. is it empathy? you’re not sure, but it’s there. she’s good at hiding her feelings, a skill honed in a life that demanded it, but sometimes, she lets a sliver of herself show.

you move slowly towards the alley, your footsteps quiet on the pavement. Saebyeok follows, her hand resting on her pocket knife at her side just in case — a force of habit, you know, not aggression. the cat shrinks further back at your approach, it’s little body trembling, fear etched into its small features.

“it’s okay.” you say softly to the cat. you crouch down, extending a hand slowly, palm up, letting the cat see that you’re no threat. Saebyeok stands behind you, silent and observant. you can feel her gaze on your back, a comforting weight.

the cat hesitates, its head tilted as it studies your hand. then, ever so tentatively, it takes a step forward. another meow, quieter this time. it’s a cautious sound, mixed with a hint, you think, of hope.

“come here, little one.” you murmur, closing your hand just enough to gently reach for its head, stroking lightly the soft fur — surprisingly soft given its matted appearance. the cat starts to purr, a low rumble in its tiny chest. it rubs its head against your palm, a trust unexpectedly given to you. you feel a wave of tenderness wash over you, a warmth that spreads from your chest to the tips of your fingers.

you look up at Saebyeok, a smile on your face. she’s watching the scene unfold, a strange expression on her face, something akin to… contemplation? it’s hard to tell, but the harshness you sometimes see is absent.

“we can’t just leave it here.” you say, your gaze moving back to the small creature in your lap, who is now kneading at your dress.

Saebyeok doesn’t reply immediately; she kneels and looks at the cat, studying its thin frame with a critical eye. finally, she speaks, her voice low and steady. “fine. let’s find it some food.”

you smile again, this time, it’s for her. you know that behind the stoicism, Saebyeok has a soft heart. she just doesn’t show it to everyone. as you gently scoop the cat into your arms, feeling its fragile weight against your chest, you know you’ll take good care of this small, unexpected addiction to your night. and you know, without a doubt, that Saebyeok will be there, right by your side, watching over you all. the car nestles deeper into your embrace, purring contentedly in the darkness of the alley. and in that moment, amidst the hum of the city night, there’s a sense of quiet peace, a feeling that everything is, for now, exactly as it should be.

[gazeofseer]

Soul Connection💙

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

'Love is too much glorified to ones dream

And quite petrified to savor it in life.........

Before you give up I want you to give in..

To your soul and find the other end of the

String that aches, arches, and embeds

you every night wondering

If there is no one for me what is this

love mourning for then..?'

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Pick A Image

And let your heart guide you allow that feeling to stir out and take you in the message calling upon you ;

Image.1

Best Friends, Platonic, Caring, Values, Spouse, Wrong Place with the Right Person

Message : The soul of yours is on a journey, of self discovery be it understanding what you truly want and need as an soul through life of human, to knowing it later after many lessons down the line that makes you see all the wrong things first and then things awaits on you to be corrected,

The connection you have is a Platonic one in this lifetime above mentioned are the forms you might have already met them or they are quite close but there is a wall of strangeness in between or a veil of unknown who is yet to arrive they are important part of your journey this makes you sad to not love like others, settle like others, but you are not one of them right? You are here for different things..they would be one of your greatest chapters that makes you worth the go towards the next.

Even if there is a separation it will be quite endearing and worth it. Because they would still wish the best from afar for you.

'Maybe love was about a moment of relief for the one who was on a quest of the living'

- S ✍🏽☘️

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Image.2

Karmic Bond, Purpose, Intent, Contract, Redemption, Salvation

Message : The dreams can weigh at times to, even if things seems enraging you hold it well behind a smile that a moment of ignorance and you would disappear amidst of the crowd to find your corner, comfort, of space where you shed all your emotions into a flow of thoughts that keeps you under greys before it rains.

There is a ache in your abdominal or chest, or a heavy guilt of feeling sorry towards something I am not able to see what exactly as I see you even feel hard to speak up like two Gulps down you take and sigh of eye rolls you go after doing any kinds of talk, your soul has a karmic bond it can be anyone in your family, but I see more in your social and friends group maybe even a colleague or romantic person, there is so much gloom, blues, and black here, a contract of hurt has begun that needs to be redeemed by the one who did to set the other person free with that state of feeling.

It will be really quite peaceful, refreshing yet painful as this heaviness will set both of your souls to move ahead in your life journey without holding anything back that can drown you at any time.

Timeline is near to 2-3 years it seems to be near the end by this year or next year's july.. monsoon is prominent and winter too.

The beauty of life is, there can be an end to whatever happens within it, but beautiful things hurt too badly like love

- S ♥️

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Image.3

Twin flame, Reflection, Transcend, Frequency, Attune, Trance, Mirror

Message : The idea or myth has a say that karma mirrors when it comes to twin flame but the reality has always been different and distinctive, You imbibe each other's nature timely..if you drink coffee now they might be having tea..

But the very same evening there will be a swap and you would wonder why did chose this when I am a specific this person; is how mirroring situations occurs in between you and your twin flame, I see you don't like to be too stereotypically girl but you have your own way to carry femininity same goes for masculinity,

To find a balance between the frequency of your energy will bring the space of mirrors into existence your twin flame is also seeking you the dreams you had about someone's safe touch but you have never been touched a dagger slashing something into two, all this is a sign of confirmation.

You will meet them when everything is balanced and attuned like a manifestation this entirely depends on how is your energy, divine timing, purpose, frequency, and attuning of your souls.

We exist under the same sky sharing the same breath, the day we will meet what exchanges is the trance of our being till date gets seen, heard and felt a dream come true.

- S🌊

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Image.4

Soulmates, Inner Knowing, Fidelity, Longing

Message : Everything speaks to you about love, hope and light no matter how much dark and cold things around may get there is warmth within, it is the longing towards your soulmate every songs remind you of the visions that you could possibly have with them not the delusions but the kisses on cheeks leaves a smile on your face by now for real as if you felt it happen for real but it is yet to.

I see you are quite pure at heart to see shades and imposters which makes you get influenced at a flinch but god's grace you deal with things very well that even through a mishap you come out like a boon.

It is a part and parcel of the growth towards enlightenment but just be cautious in case things can snap at you anytime even if you are ready for a war no need to invite one to prove everytime that you can do it. trust me this is from your soul mate you keep hurting yourself and they feel really helpless right now to not be able to help you through, so just let go of conflicts if it is around ignore..dodge deal it with grace or address it collectively instead of going and reacting rashly on your own.

To look feel and experience one's soul all you need is love inside your heart's core to connect beyond all the veils of falls and lows, that elevates you heightens you through grounding your roots of existence deeply in each other's heart through foot imprints.

- S🩷

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Paid Readings are Open Check my Pinned Post !!

[misogynykinksir]

Pinned

Hello, this is a kink blog. As such, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! Go away. Shoo.

Irl I'm a feminist fella, this is an exploration of my darker desires. (As such, if you're an actual "trad" (as in wants to force it on everyone), terf scum or an irl misogynist, fuck off all the way to outer space. I will block you. If you like the orange turd, do everyone a solid and kys :)) Consent is the most important thing! And please remember that even behind this blog is a human.

I'm straight, with a bit of a belly, well over 180cm, with a 16/6'4 uncut love muscle.

You may message me, but I currently don't play (= do sexy stuff) here, because I'm talking to someone irl. But chatting and advice/red flag q's are okay 🪷 I don't require anything except basic respect you'd give anyone else. But of course I like it if you call me Sir.

Love ❤️‍🔥:

Facefucking/receiving oral, especially cock/balls worship. Also it gets me absolutely wild if a woman gives lots of kisses to my cock, or hands. Fave position is woman laying on her back on bed, head just out, and me fucking her throat while groping her tits ❤️‍🔥

Obedient sluts

Women who degrade themselves for my pleasure

Face slapping

Spanking

Big, round tiddies. What can I say 🤷🏼‍���️

Redheads ❤️

Dykebreaking/corrupting a feminist. This includes having you admit, freely, that you love all this patriarchy stuff 😘

2 or more women servicing me

Gender traitors! 🩷 And girlies competing for that sweet male validation.

Teasing and orgasm denial/making you edge, or on the other hand overstimulating.

Like: A little bit of humiliating, but this isn't a strong desire by any means.

The woman riding me while I lay

Doggy style

Wlw.

Petting/giving scritches, also receiving them

Getting to freely grope

Just kissing! If your mouth is clean.

Cumming on the woman (face, tits etc)

Praise, but only in moderation. Too much makes me uncomfortable. I don't mind you praising me for this blog, though.

Good butts. I'm a tiddy man first and foremost, but I can appreciate a booty too.

Somewhat like cnc?? Not super into it, but could do it.

Neutral: A lot of things, obviously. Can't name anything specific rn. Might update.

Dislike: I'm a fan of hygiene, so butt stuff is…. eh. Not really my thing. Might negotiate it at least though with the right partner.

Anything too harsh. Doms have limits too.

Ropes. So much trouble for something you can easily do with chains.

Hypnosis. Just not into it.

Knifeplay. This is very close to a hard limit, because of the risks.

Choking, same reason as above. If it's light choking, ie. only gently pressing from the sides, I'm more ok with it.

Partner getting too much attention from someone else. Yeah I'm kinda possessive, sue me 🫶🏻

Absolute no:s: Sharing with a man. Nope. Hands off dude, this one's mine. I'll cut you

Detrans kink. Not kink shaming, but this is just something that's really not my cuppa. Feel free to follow me, just don't try to include me in it ✌🏻

Sissy kink. You do you, but it's not my cuppa. Again, feel free to follow though.

Raceplay. In tumblr, this is an absolute No. If it was super important to my partner, I might consider, and even then it's a lot to ask.

Actually, permanently hurting someone. No, I won't.

Making my partner cry. No matter how "in-scene" it might be, it'd make me too uncomfortable. I'd feel horrible.

Feet. Watersports/scat. Basically anything disgusting or downright filthy. No. NO. Not ever.

[bartxnhood]

you belong with me | l.r.h

luke hemmings x fem!songwriter!reader

summary: after luke finds out just what your song was about, his life was flipped upside down.

warnings: unrequited love, break up, lots of crying, happy ending (who cheered)

wc: 6k

a/n: this is a part two to this so be sure to read that before !

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

you sigh as you put your earbuds in to tune out the sound of the man in the front seat belting the lyrics of ‘we belong together’ by mariah carey with the brunette in the passenger seat.

you couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on the man. his blond, curly hair, just long enough to rest above his eyes, the stubble on his face that hadn’t been shaven in at least two weeks, that pointy nose that was sculpted by the gods, and those ocean blue eyes.

you loved looking into those eyes.

he was your best friend, he was the one constant in your life and now he feels like a stranger.

you’re taken out of your trance when calum nudges your shoulder. “you okay?” he mouths. you nod quickly offering him a smile, looking back down to the book you were reading.

calum sighs, he reaches for his phone and types up a quick message.

-“you sure? you were staring again, y/n..”

-“i’m fine, cal. swear.”

calum huffs but leaves it at that. the two in the front continue belting out the lyrics and calum keeps an eye on you for the rest of the drive.

you should’ve said no, you wanted to say no and stay home where at least you’d be free of the torture. but, with calum being calum he begged you until you agreed. just like he did when he convinced you to open up for them on tour in the early days.

if you had said no then, maybe none of this would’ve happened.

”luke..i..” you wiped your eyes, it was so hard for you to hear that when you had spent all your life with him only to lose him in the end. “i’m sorry.”

luke shook his head, “no, i’m sorry.”

he stands there, looking at you with sorrowful eyes. he can feel himself tearing up but the moment is interrupted by sierra busting through the door. “there you are!” she says, walking over to your side, her hand finding your arm. “are you okay, hon?” her eyes soften, noticing your tears.

you don’t say anything but you nod, looking away while the girl side hugs you. “did luke bother you? i told him specifically to not take away your spotlight tonight” she says in a teasing matter and you laugh softly. but luke doesn’t seem too amused.

“okay, well the guys are ready so whenever you’re ready, luke” sierra says, removing herself from your side then going back inside the club.

“so, what should we do?” luke ask, watching as you wipe your eyes once more. you shrug, “nothing, you’re with sierra. my feelings mean nothing anymore.”

your eyes flutter open as you feel someone shaking you gently, “y/n, wake up we made it” you look at calum then begin stretching out as you look around. you see the tall palm trees as you can smell the breeze of saltwater wafting in from the open doors.

you step out of the vehicle and begin stretching while the others, ashton, michael, and crystal arrive in the other car as you gather your items from the backseat and pack them into your carry on, luke has already begun unpacking the car. “here’s your bags, y/n” he says, you don’t skip a beat to bend down to take your bags and head for the entrance of the beach house and not bat an eye at him.

calum and ashton shared a room, the two couples had their own room, so you were left alone. not that you minded at all, it gave you time to think and have you time. if it ever got too overwhelming, you had your own space.

after spending some time unpacking, you decided to head out of your room and put your toiletries in the bathroom. as you stepped out, you saw everyone gathered around the island in the kitchen, sierra jutting down whatever the other guys were saying. “oh! y/n!” ashton announces which then causes the others to look your way. “we’re making a grocery list. is there anything specific you need?” he adds.

you walk over to the island, standing across from them. “well, what do you have down so far?”

“we have breakfast foods…um some stuff for dinner for the nights we don’t eat out…snacks…” sierra begins listing off everything she had written down with a point of the pen.

“sounds like you got everything then” you hum, with a nod. “one more thing” she adds, “do you care to go with me?”

you look at the sierra across from you and smile softly, “sure. is crystal going too?” the brunette shakes her head, “her and mike went to the beach already. just us two” she smiles awkwardly. “oh, that’s fine. let me get changed and we can head out” you force a smile as you walk out of the kitchen to your bedroom.

the drive to the supermarket was quiet, your eyes glued to the road while sierra did whatever she was doing. given the circumstances, there was a little tension between the two of you and it was very hard for you to deal with.

you really liked sierra, she was a kind soul who saw the good in a lot of things. she had always been there to cheer you up, and you had considered her your best friend. but after that night at the open mic, everything changed.

the drive felt like it lasted forever, but eventually, you arrived at the supermarket.

pushing the shopping cart through the isles while sierra was looking at the list, you occasionally would drop some items in the basket that you wanted for yourself or, you and sierra both agreed on it.

“i really miss hanging out with you..” sierra says, standing at the end of the shopping cart in the drink aisle with you.

you look at her, smiling sadly. “i know, i miss it too. just..work has been..work” you try laughing it off. “i can help, you know. i write songs too” she says. you nod, dropping a case of wine in the cart. “i know, i just don’t want to bother you” you shrug, and begin pushing the cart until the next isle.

you hear sierra sigh, giving you the‘you sound ridiculous��. look. “y/n, it won't bother me! you’re my friend and i’d love to help out” you chuckle softly, “okay fine. after this trip we’ll work together.” you cave, and sierra claps her hands quietly with a big smile on her lips.

as the two of you stroll down the isle of chips and other snacks, your eyes catch the package of a certain snack you hadn’t seen in years. “oh my god!” you announce, letting go of the cart to pickup the bag. “what is it?” the other girl asks. “look” you say, showing the bag to her. “i haven’t seen these in years!”

memories wash over you like a wave as you stare at the packaging. “what are they?” she questions. “these are luke’s favorite! back on tour, we used to keep stashes of these in the bus” you laugh, grabbing an extra bag to also put it in the cart. “we could eat up to two or three bags in a day, the other guys would always get onto us..” you laugh, reminiscing.

“oh really?” sierra didn’t know this. she didn’t know his favorite snacks or drinks. she didn’t know how he would bounce his leg when he had a lyric on his mind and needed to write it down, she didn’t know that when he picked at his face subconsciously it meant he was worried. she didn’t know luke’s favorite movie, she didn’t know that he only wears certain rings, rings you got him. she didn’t know that when luke got quiet it meant he was thinking hard about something. she doesn’t know that luke keeps a song journal with some of his deepest feelings.

but you do.

you know all of this.

by the time you and sierra had arrived at the beach house, the sky was already turning dark. you had taken a couple of bags out of the back and began heading inside. “guys, we need help” you announce, dropping the bags on the kitchen counter.

you turn around see the other five standing up from their seats and going outside, and you follow suit.

it took you, sierra, and the other five to haul the rest of the groceries back inside and to unpack. but thankfully, it was only one trip.

while sierra was handing you boxes of cereal, luke hollered, “oh my god!” everyone whips their heads around, startled by his abrupt yell. “what is it?” ashton asks, and luke grinned holding up the bag of snacks before ripping into them letting the smell waft into his nostrils, letting the memories flood back. “it’s the snacks we used to eat!”

you smile, seeing his reaction as he reaches in for a handful, stuffing it in his mouth. “where did you find these? i thought they discontinued them!” he says with a mouth full.

you laugh, walking over and take a couple for yourself. “dont talk with your mouth full, and don’t eat em all because once that bag is gone, you’re donezo. the other one is mine” you taunt earning a frown the from curly-haired man.

sierra watches, she sees how his eye has lit up. she sees and you were suddenly beaming with happiness upon seeing lukes smile.

the next evening, everyone had wanted to go out to dinner to celebrate your second album as a release party. you, however, wanted to stay back as you weren't feeling it but ashton practically demanded and dragged you out of bed and told you to get ready. “okay, okay!! i’ll get ready..” you groan as ashton pushes you into the bathroom, you can hear a victory laugh from him as the door shuts.

you look up, seeing yourself in the mirror knowing you should be excited to go out and celebrate the release of your second album. you had a good following and people who were anticipating your release. but you just weren’t feeling it, probably because all of the songs were about your best friend.

but, you just weren’t looking forward to dinner or the release party.

you step out of your bedroom smoothing out your dress, which is a dark navy blue. you see everyone else standing in the kitchen or sitting on the sofa in their outfits. the guys in their suits, and crystal and sierra in a dress similar to yours, but crystals was red, and sierra was black.

“ready? oh? you’re matching with luke!” ashton laughs, as he stands up from the sofa, pointing to luke’s tie.

you look at luke’s tie, feeling extra awkward now, “oh..” you say. “you okay?” calum asks, “yup, everyone ready?” you change the subject, and they all nod and head out for the night.

all seven of you sat together at a large table at a nice restaurant, ashton and calum had planned it nicely and were sure that the table was in a private area.

you had already finished appetizers when michael spoke up. “do you remember when we first toured?” he asks.

“yeah..” calum and ashton say, you nod. “what was your favorite part of tour?” he asks. everyone falls silent while they think, “definitely all the drinking” calum answers, you laugh and shake your head, “you were a nightmare.”

“definitely” luke agrees with you.

“oh, soundchecks were fun. messing with managers” michael answers.

“i liked songwriting, i wrote some of my favorite songs on tour with you guys.” you smile, remembering all the good times. “performing was kinda cool too” you laugh.

everyone smiles, you hear calums ‘aw’ and you just roll your eyes.

“what about you, luke?” ashton asks.

luke thinks for a moment, but he isn’t too sure how to answer it. “i think i enjoyed performing the most, it was good experience.” michael nods, “true” he agrees.

then the table falls silent again when entrees arrive. everyone seems to be enjoying their food, until, crystal asks you, “y/n, who did you write your songs about?”

you look up from your plate, you feel your ears turning hot. you always hated this question because how could you tell them it was about the man who was sitting just a few feet from you?

“well..” you begin, finishing your bite. “it’s not really about anyone. it’s just a feeling you have” you try your best to come up with something believable. “that way, anyone can relate to what i release.” you smile, but you feel luke’s eyes lingering on your figure.

you look out of the corner of your eye and confirm your suspicions. he was looking at you.

“ah, that makes sense!” crystal smiles, “your work is incredible.”

“thank you, crys”

it was nearing midnight now, closer to your release time. instead of the restaurant you had moved to a club just a few streets over which was also set up for your release party.

ashton was by your side as you enter, letting the couples go in first, then you, ashton, and calum. you look around and see some old faces and friends.

“do you want anything?” calum asks as the two of you stand at the bar. you shake your head, “nah, i’ll pass” you smile while taking a seat at the bar. calum nods, respecting your wishes as he orders himself a drink. you sit there playing on your phone to pass the time until it hits midnight. throughout the night you have people coming up to you and congratulating you on your album, and you just smile and nod. soon enough, midnight rolls around and you hear cheers and ashton appears from what seems like thin air with a cake while congratulating you. you smile, standing up from the bar stool.

“congratulations on your album, y/n/n! we are so proud of you and we can’t wait to see where life takes you!” ashton says, you feel yourself getting emotional seeing all of your friends around you. “we love you!” you hear michael cheer which causes you to giggle before blowing out the candles.

as you leaned in to blow out the candles everything felt like it happened so quickly. a very, very drunk man showed up out of nowhere yelling profanities at your before pushing the cake on you. “and fuck you, you whore-“ he continued until a someone interfered. you see luke out of the corner of your eye, yelling at him to shut up and throwing a few punches in.

you didn’t move, feeling so embarrassed. you look down seeing all the cake on your skin and dress.

sierra and crystal rush to your side and take you away to the bathroom to get you cleaned up.

you were perched up on the counter, both sierra and crystal were trying their best to clean your dress and fix your makeup but you had already started crying.

“why would someone do that?” you ask, feeling so small.

“i don’t know, hon..” sierra sighs, as she wipes off the icing on your face. “people are just jerks..” crystals adds.

thankfully the cake didn’t get on your dress as much as it was on your face. the two other girls let you borrow their makeup once all of the cake was gone so you could try to enjoy the rest of your day.

“thank you guys, i don’t know what i would do you without you” you smile, hugging the two girls before heading back to the club floor.

you spot luke at the bar with michael and walk up, standing beside michael. you order yourself a shot of whatever came to mind first. “you’re drinking? i thought you hated it” michael asks, eyeing as you downed the shot.

“yeah, well, after the fiasco that just happened, i need to let loose for the night”

luke should’ve stopped you after your fifth shot, but he didn’t. he let you drink and he was now paying the price for doing so.

luke knew you better than anyone else, he knew you hated drinking because of the way it made you act and how you felt afterward.

he stares as you dance with an old friend and when he starts touching you a little too much, luke saw red.

he didn’t even realize what he was doing until you were yelling his name. he lets go of the guy and turns to you, “are you okay?” he asks. “luke?! what the fuck?!” you yell, stumbling back a little, and luke catches you. “you’re drunk” luke says, “obviously” you slur followed by a sigh as you finish the rest of your drink.

“okay, i think you’re done. we should head home” he suggested while taking your hand and leading you through the crowd of people to gather up the rest of your group.

you don’t protest, in fact, you are excited to head back home and sleep away the night and hopefully forget everything that happened.

the night has come to an end, and you all had finally returned to the beach house. the seven of you all sat around a bonfire talking about life and what they want in the future. you were seated a few feet from the group, admiring the stars, and how clearly you could see them.

the sudden hit of a soccer ball caught your attention and you followed the direction where the ball had rolled from and your eyes landed on calum and ashton. “cmon” calum says, extending his hand you want to say no because you can feel a headache forming, but calum beats you. “you can’t say no. get up”

you groan, letting him take your hand and drag you in the sand to kick the soccer ball around before all of you head in for the night.

luke didn’t know how long he was watching you. but what he did know, is just how bad he wished he was the one you making laugh like calum does. luke wants to be the one helping you from the sand like ashton does.

his body longs for your touch as his heart yearns for your love.

sierra watched as he was eyeing you, he looked at you like you were the only person in the world. he was starstruck when it came to you, his y/n. everyone saw it except maybe you, and himself.

he’d never admit it though, for the sake of sierra.

but what he didn’t know is that she knew she would never replace you in his heart. luke didn’t know she had already made up her mind about their relationship.

“luke..” she speaks up while leaning in, in hopes of getting his attention. luke is pulled out of whatever trance he was in and finally looks at the girl. “yeah?” he asks, looking as if he had just come off cloud nine after hearing your laugh. “we need to talk.”

luke nods, “is everything okay?” he asks, turning his body to fully face his girlfriend. as sierra is about to begin speaking she is interrupted by ashton, who had his arm around your shoulder. “you all coming?” luke’s eyes land on you, naturally. he sees that you didn’t even bother to look at him, he looked disappointed. “we’ll catch up later.”

luke watches as you disappear over the sand dunes and his eyes finally land on sierra. “what’s up?” he asks, noticing sierras blank expression.

she takes in a long breath, trying to find the right words without hurting his feelings. “i don’t think this is gonna work out.. between us” she confesses, feeling the tears threatening to spill in her eyes. “what..? why..?” asks luke.

“because you don’t love me.”

“what? sierra, i do-“

“no, luke” she cuts him off, smiling softly. “you don’t, and it’s okay.” she takes his hand and holds it softly. “i should’ve known i couldn’t take her place in your heart.” “what..?”

“y/n.” sierra answers, fighting back the tears. “i see the way you look at her, you have that look in your eyes every time they land on her. you love her and you need to admit that to yourself.” and it was true, but luke had tried and thought that he had hid his feelings for you, but he was unsuccessful.

“i can’t be her, i can’t force you to love me, luke.”

“sierra..” he sighs, feeling ashamed.

“luke..look at me” she takes her hands, cupping his chin so he would look at her. “last night, when you came to her rescue i knew in that moment..”

“it’s okay, luke. we just aren’t meant to be. you deserve someone who can make you happy, and she does.”

her thumb caresses his cheek, admiring all of his beauty as a tear slips from her eyes. “i’m sorry that i can’t be the one in your heart.” she presses a kiss on his nose before standing up from her seat, leaving luke alone on the beach that night.

the next morning, your eyes are met with the excruciating pain in your temples as your eyes flutter open, meeting with the sunlight peaking in from the curtains. groaning, you throw your arm over your eyes to try to help with the light and you are reminded why you hated drinking so much.

you heard a few soft knocks at your door, “come in” you announce groggily. calum peeks his head in, “hey, we’re all heading out. you gonna join?” he asks. you remove your arm from your eyes and barely open them. you ask,“what time is it?” and calum laughs quietly . “it’s after five. you’ve slept most of the day.”

you sigh, “i’ll just stay back.” you answer and hear a quiet “okay” from calum as he exits your bedroom, closing the door behind him.

you lie there for a while before eventually getting up to shower, in hopes it would make you feel a little better.

meanwhile, the others had all gone out bowling per the request of michael and ashton even though it was pretty late in the day.

calum wanted to stay back, he hated the idea of going out without you because he knew how bad your hangovers could be but he went, not wanting ashton to third wheel alone.

when they arrived at the bowling alley, it was pretty busy, they found a lane and started a few games. but everyone seemed to be off, calum couldn’t put his finger on it, maybe it was the fact that you weren’t here, or the fact they were all still a tad hungover. so, with only a few games in, they all decided to leave and head back to the rental house to watch a movie and make dinner instead.

when they all arrive back, they do their own thing. crystal and michael head to the patio for a couple of drinks, ashton goes to the living room, calum makes a b-line to the kitchen, sierra goes to her bedroom, and luke attempts to look for you. hoping to clear the air between the two of you.

“wheres y/n?” luke asks, noticing the door to your bedroom was wide open and you were nowhere else to be found. ashton looks around, shrugging as he plops down on the sofa. “maybe she’s at the beach” the drummer suggests. “she didn’t text me.” calum announces from the kitchen, looking for some snacks. luke checks his phone, sending you a message but when you don’t reply he decides to look for you himself.

you sat on the beach, your feet in the cool sand while you were scribbling away in your journal, this whole trip you felt so trapped and so empty. feeling as if you had lost your best friend over something so stupid you tried to push away those feelings, but in doing so you were jeopardizing your friendship with luke and sierra. pushing them out of your life pretty much.

you were so engrossed with your writing, you didn’t even notice the tall blond heading your way.

“there you are!” he announces, jogging to your side. “i was looking everywhere for you!” you look up from your book, seeing luke and immediately shutting it. “well, you found me” you answer, a bit harsher. you hear a sigh from luke, “y/n, are we ever going to talk this out?” he asks, you stand up from the shore and dust the sand off of you. “there’s nothing to talk about, luke.”

actually, there was. you wanted to scream at him, you wanted to pour your heart out and tell him how much you loved him. how your heart aches for him, how your body yearns for his touch.

but you don’t, you simply begin walking off but he stops you. “y/n.” he reaches out and grabs your wrist gently.

“why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, and once you turn around he drops his arms to his side but his look is fierce. he was staring through you. “you left me in the dark, y/n..how was i supposed to know?”

you groan, letting your head fall back. “luke, i’m sorry. okay?” you raise your head and look at him. “and this isn’t all on me, either. you didn’t tell me your feelings either.”

“well who did you think all of those songs we wrote together were about?!” luke asks, raising his voice slightly.

“i don’t know luke! i was too worried that if i said something wrong or if i slipped up i would lose my best friend!” you tell, the pain filled your chest and you felt yourself explode like a shaken soda bottle.

“i was worried that if i made the impression that i even had the slightest crush on you, you’d leave me, luke. you were the one thing in my life that kept me grounded. you were my everything, you were the air in my lungs, my heart was beating for you. so, i’m sorry, luke that i maybe didn’t catch the hint. i was scared.”

luke blinks, his heart racing as you begin spilling out all your thoughts.

“why?” was all he asked.

“because i thought i wasn’t good enough for you, luke. i was never the pretty one, i wasn’t like the other girls. i was always the one who people settled for. and when sierra came into the picture, it was worse. when you started seeing her, i would see the way you looked at her. and it hurt me so bad, lu. because i wanted you to look at me like that, i want you to want me like you want her.” you didn’t even notice the tears flowing down your cheeks.

“what?” in an effort to understand what he had just heard, his blue eyes were filled with devastation . did you really mean what you said? “y/n…did you really feel like that? i made you feel like that?” he feels his heart breaking into small pieces. luke stares at you intently as you speak, he wants to reach out and wrap you in his arms. he wants to take away all your pain, he thinks it’s unfair you have been suffering all this time.

“you’re a rockstar, luke. of course i felt that way, i couldn’t compete with all the girls who threw themselves at you when we were on tour, and then when sierra came into the picture everything just shattered..” you wipe away the tears using the sleeves of your shirt. you had told yourself you didn’t want to break down in front of him like this, but it was inevitable.

you sigh, trying to compose yourself as luke takes a few steps closer, and when his hand touches yours, you feel the wave of sadness hit you again.

“i see the way she looks at you luke, she’s so in love with you and it kills me.” you feel the lump in your throat, and your lip quivers, but you continue. “i can’t stand to be around you two, but i can’t stand to be away from you, because i still love you so much, luke.”

his hand touches your cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears staining your cheek. for a moment, when you look at him you could only wish he was yours. you felt at home when touched you so gingerly, and how his ocean eyes looked over you like you were the only girl in the world.

your hand reaches up, takes his, and removes it from your face. “you two deserve to be together. she loves you luke, i can push my feelings down. i can’t do that to her.” you say, ready to act like this never happened and you would go back to how things were.

abruptly, luke speaks. “she broke up with me.”

your heart sinks, and you feel dizzy. were you hearing things? “what..?” you say, just above a whisper. “last night” he continues, sighing as he did.

“during the bonfire, i guess i..i was staring at you and she went on this rant about how she knows that i love you.” now, you see luke’s eyes brimming with tears. his voice wavers, he sniffles once trying to suppress the tears. “and she’s right, i do love you.” he admits. “luke..i..”

“no. please, just listen to me.” the blond cuts you off, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath. “i can’t do this anymore, i can’t pretend to love someone else when im still so in love with you.”

luke continues, his hands balled by his side. “i feel so complete with you around, and i can’t take it when you act like we aren’t close. i can’t keep pretending.”

“you are my everything, and it hurts me that i can’t be with you.” his hand is over his heart, feeling the aching feeling he has been living with since that night. “i dream of you, all i do is dream of you. i can’t get you out of my head. so, please don’t push me away. let me love you.”

your mind was racing as you stared at him wide-eyed. unable to process the words he had uttered, “i can’t do this right now..” you take a few steps back, “just..” you shake your head leaving luke stranded on the beach.

luke watches your figure disappear. his chest tightens, thinking he had just lost you for good now. he thinks you blame yourself for his breakup. when you walk away he can’t help but think you hate him more than you already did.

luke sits down in the sand, facing the ocean now. he wants to scream at the horizon, he wants the world, the gods, the universe to know just how much he loves you.

he can’t bare the thought of losing you again.

luke has so much love for you, he knows everything about you. he wants to know the things that maybe you have kept hidden from him. he wants you to want him back. luke wants to make up for all of his mistakes, fix things, and give you the love you deserve.

but, if you don’t feel like that…he would have to respect your decision.

you enter the house, seeing ashton on the sofa with calum with a few beers in their hands. “oh, hey, there you are. luke went looking for you” calum says once you enter the door. “yeah, he found me” you say, setting your book on the table and scanning the room. “wheres sierra?” you ask, ashton looks up from his phone and says, “her bedroom, but she was acting kinda weird today..” you nod, “okay, thanks”

you stand in front of the door and mentally prepare yourself for possibly the worst fight you’d ever have. you knock a few times, “sierra?” you announce letting her know it was you. you heard a soft, “come in” and you twisted the door non letting yourself in.

you see her figure sitting on the twin bed closest to the window, you walk over to sit on the edge and that’s when you notice the tears staining her cheeks.

“sierra..” you say, as you look at her. but she smiles sadly, “i’m not mad at you, if that’s the reason your here” her voice was cracking and it was very obvious she had been crying for some time. “i..” you start, handing your head. “i’m so sorry.” you mutter, feeling your lip quiver.

you had been crying most of this trip. you wish you could just get a grip and stop acting so childish.

“stop..” she says reaching for your hand. “it’s okay, i knew. i’ve known it since the beginning. i knew what i was getting myself into. but…it still hurts.” you nod, wrapping your arms around her. “i never wanted this to happen.” you sigh, feeling her arms pat your back. “i know, i don’t blame you…” she says quietly. sierra knows she couldn’t take away what the two of you had. she had to be smart and realize if she continued the relationship she would only hurt herself in the future. she couldn’t lie to herself when the truth was right in front of her.

“y/n, what you two have is real. it’s more than what we had, i can’t pretend to be you and i can’t make him love me like he loves you. i want the both of you happy, and if me cutting things off with him i’ll do it.” she says, and pulls back to look at you. “you’re my best friend, i don’t want this to ruin us, okay?” she adds, and you nod. “did he tell you how he felt?” you nod again, a laugh escaping your lips. “andddd?” she drawls, smiling. “i left him on the beach”

“y/n!” she playfully hits your arm, “please, go get that man before you lose him again” she demands, pushing you off the bed. “go!” you laugh and exit the bedroom.

luke sits on the beach, watching the waves crash onto the sand. he wonders if he just lost everything in less than twenty-four hours. he wonders where he went wrong, how he let you slip away, why he wasn’t honest with you…or himself. luke is pissed at himself because maybe, just maybe, if he had been more open with his feelings and emotions maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

he is racking his brain for the right words to say to fix what he had messed up so badly.

“luke” you say, pulling him out of his deep thought. he looks up, his eyes landing on your figure. he feels a warmth in his chest, but he doesn’t get his hopes up. “you came back?”

you nod, as you sit down next to him. “of course, i did.” you say, looking out at the ocean.

“y/n, im sorry. i didn’t mean for all of that to just spill out, i-“ you turn to him, stopping him as he tried explaining himself. “dont” you shake your head.

“just hold me, please.”

time passed quicker than you wanted it to. you sit between luke’s legs, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head resting against your shoulders. you both wanted to watch the sunset since it was your last full night there. neither you nor luke said anything since you came back. you were simply just enjoying each other's company.

“lu?”

“hmm?”

“when did you realize you love me?”

luke thinks for a moment, he recalls the last show of their first headlining tour. he remembers the outfit you wore for your set and he remembers that in that moment is when he first realized his feelings for you.

“do you remember our first headlining tour?” you nod, your eyes still on the ocean. “i do..” luke smiles, “that’s when. i remember seeing your face on that stage and everything shifted..” he answered.

you smile to yourself, recalling that night. you were on cloud nine, you remember the hug and how much you loved being in luke’s arms, just like you were now. “you there?” he whispers. you nod, “i am. just..reminiscing.”

luke pulls you closer, and he squeezes you, afraid to lose you again. he traces soft circles on your arms as he gets lost in thought.

“you there?” you chuckle, and you feel him nod against your shoulder.

“i just… i don’t want to lose you again. i don’t want to mess up this again. please let me make this right between us..” he says.

“lu, i love you. and that’s why i came back. i want us to work out…i want…us..” you speak quietly, the ocean crashing on the shore is in the background.

luke presses a kiss on your neck then, your cheek and finally, your lips. “i promise, y/n. i’ll give you the life you deserve and we will have the best years, together.”

[finishwhatyoustarted-event]

Finish What You Started 2024 - Event Rules

[ID copied from alt: Event Rules on a blue background. ⬒ No new projects ◨ Any medium and any fandom welcome ⬓ NSFW inclusive, warnings must be tagged ◧ Tag #FinishWhatYouStarted2024; boosting/retweeting starts September 13th ◼ Event ends October 31st, 2024]

The goal of this event is to get things done that you’ve already started. We all have unfinished projects whose incomplete status haunts us. Those are what we want to tackle!

The structure is loose, as this is a multimedia event. While primarily aimed at writers, this event is open to any kind of creative fanwork. Fics, translations, podfics, fanart, animations, cosplay - if you started it and never got it done, it qualifies. There is no sign-up required. I will not assign beta readers for writers, but I can boost requests for those who want them! And I can boost messages of those who would like to beta read.

The mod is a danmei fan mainly, but your work can be any fandom. Maybe something you started before your current fandom excitement took over, or one you keep putting off in favor of compelling new ideas.

Feel free to pass this event info along! The more the merrier!

Further rules and clarifications:

Alt text is very encouraged, especially for boost posts or artwork!

If your work is NSFW, I will only boost it if it has appropriate content warnings. Spoilering images is recommended but not required as long as it’s tagged. Do not letter-swap or abbreviate content warnings. These are so people can mute them as needed. Example: "gore" not "g0re"

Remember Tumblr can mute phrases, but each warning should be its own tag as well as in the body.

Please use genderbend or genderswap for characters depicted not as canon genders. Example: "#NSFW #genderbend #gore”

Please use Omegaverse or A/O/B for that content. The original letter order is a slur against Aboriginal peoples and will not be tolerated here, even with the slashes. It, like other racial or identity-based slurs, fall under hate speech and are thus not permitted.

This account will post weekly morale-boosting messages and helpful resources. Every Friday, starting September 13th, will be Finished It Friday. All the completed works posted that week will be boosted together in a big thread, so we can celebrate your accomplishment!

Halfway-point check-in is October 1st. Final event deadline is October 31st. The last Finished It Friday is November 1st.

FAQ:

Q: Are original works acceptable?

A: This is primarily a fanwork-focused event. If original work is the only WIP you have to work on, it's certainly fine to work on it during the time frame of the event. If it is posted publicly when finished, you may tag it for boosting.

Q: Are there any restrictions on topics?

A: No, so long as your event # post is properly & fully tagged for content (see rules about tagging above). "Dead Dove" topics are allowed. Some submissions will be 18+. For me, this is less about the content and more about finishing it. 

The usual restrictions based on laws and Community Guidelines of course apply, so you may need to tailor how you post to which event space your interacting with. Twitter, Tumblr, and Discord all have their own rules. There are also some topics that are in poor taste to make fanworks around. The event organizer and mods reserve the right to not boost your work if they decide it is rage-baiting or trolling. They are not responsible for negative reactions to your works. Please be respectful of those you share a digital space with. 

Keep in mind that when I link to your finished work during a Finished It Friday, it may reach a wider audience than you may be used to.

Q: Are there any restrictions on media that can be submitted?

A: Machine Generated or "AI" images and writing are not permitted. If you are found in violation of this rule, you will be removed from the event. All images, writing, or other works must be your own.

This is a positive, shared space. Do not belittle other creators' medium of choice. Please no fandom/character/ship/creator bashing, and don't berate artists or authors for not being done with something, even if they don't finish by the end of the event. Also, please don't passive-aggressively send this event to the author of an unfinished fic you want to see done faster. 😥 Be cool, respect each other, and keep any interpersonal disagreements to your own tumblrsphere.

All posts and boosts will be crossposted to the event Twitter (finishwatustart) and Discord. Expanded rules, explanations, and Dead Dove guidelines can also be found on the Discord. (invite link in pinned post) 

Fics can be posted to the AO3 collection (archiveofourown(dot)org /collections /FinishWhatYouStarted2024_Fall)

Work-in-progress posts should be tagged #FinishWhatYouStarted2024 . If you complete a wip within the event, tag it #IFinishedWhatIStarted2024 for boosting so we can all celebrate!

Find more information and community on the Discord, if you want! Joining the Discord is not required for the event. As always, if you have questions, don't hesitate to reach out!

[deerboybreeder]

UPDATED PINNED LETS GOOOO!

[PraiseMe Link!] [Tellonym Link!][Throne Link!] (Send me threats and scary things!)

Hi, I'm Deer but you can call me whatever you want idc! Im a trans man and use he/it pronouns (or any pronouns in kink), I'm in my late 20's, and my blog is primarily focused on breeding and pregnancy! However lots of my other kinks will be present here, such as cnc, kidnapping, intox, monsterfucking, hucow and gender play- this includes both force detrans and forcemasc!

Inbox and DMs are open, but keep in mind:

-i am fat! That's just a fact, don't go into this assuming I'm skinny

-I've been on testosterone for several months, and I am starting to be read as a man in my day to day life!

-I AM TAKEN and won't get in a relationship with you. I do have permission for roleplay, so assume unless stated otherwise that I'm playing a role here. I DO NOT SEND PICS BECAUSE OF THIS!!! they own my body ❤️

You Can: talk to me about impregnation, forced impregnation, breeding, pregnancy in general, reduce me to my womb and tits (PLEASE), send fantasies about breeding boys girls and anyone else, hunting deerboys (for breeding or otherwise), monsterfucking, anything hucow related, light blackmail, and forced marriage! I talk about it less here, but I'm also into having parts of me hacked off for meat- feel free to bring that up if you want but I don't expect much bc it's niche. I'm also a traumagenic system of many, so feel free to ask about that/take advantage of it!

Misgendering is good (but I really prefer degendering + dehumanization), forced feminization and forced detransition especially from pregnancy, forcemasc and trans superiority (ESP transfem superiority ❤️). See below the cut for specific boundaries about that!

I also genuinely love being sent: rape threats, stalking threats, degrading messages, porn, insults, messages that imply I'm not a real man (though don't extend this to all trans ppl that's a turn off), messages that call me stupid, and graphic violent threats. If it's not on my limits list, it's probably ok to send!

You can't: ASK FOR PICS, or talk to me about scat/piss, fauxcest/incest, raceplay, beast (not monsterfucker but like real animals). Don't imply I'd cheat on my partners either. Outside of kink warning that if I ever feel like someone actually has my personal information/location, I will delete the blog immediately. So if you want to keep playing with me, don't.

DMS ONLY: Due to privacy and the way Tumblr nukes blogs, I'll only engage with the following in DMs- hunger play, asking about my trauma, and Im CONSIDERING allowing blackmail play if we have a rapport built. I also will do ageplay in DMs but I identify as a younger teen in that space and not a little-little, and won't use family-related terms.

Required reading over! Read all of the above or I'll stomp you to death with my hooves!

Genuinely for blackmail play I gotta trust you. Assume everything here I mention irl is roleplay unless stated otherwise! I am genuinely pumping to induce lactation though, that's real, and so is me dressing more feminine on and off- that's not for detrans reasons but because I'm GNC. The god pregnancy is ALSO real, but some aspects are embellished to make it fit on the kink blog. Feel free to ask about that!

Detrans specific boundaries!

The biggest thing is don't imply all other trans people are not actually their gender. I'm okay with classing "fakeboys" as a group and being considered part of that group, but that's exclusively people who also have a detrans kink. I'm also more likely to engage with this kink with other trans people, and in a much harder context than I would with a cis person.

I'm okay with being called almost any term except for woman- even in the context of kink, I can't stand being called a woman. A womb, a girl, wife, even using she/her on me is fine, just not woman. In my kink narrative, women have a level of personhood that I can't ever have! I also am fine with a specific kind of "misogyny lite" play that's exclusive for fakeboys- fakeboys and ftm girls are subject to the typical "you exist to make babies and be in the kitchen and serve", whereas real trans men, cis men, nonbinary people, and women (both cis and trans) are granted full autonomy and agency.

I'm okay with being told I'm "lying" about being a boy/man, and being made to "go back" to being a girl/cunt/womb/whore/whatever, but what's BEST is breaking me. Sure, I was always a boy, if a fake one, but you decide to break me into a good girl for you and ruin me instead. That's better than anything else! It's also totally okay to do "light" misgendering/force fem to me- encouraging me to dress more femininely due to me being GNC and things like that, only to tell me later it's because you want me feminized.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Assignment 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your agree to cover an empty internship but the role isn't as easy as you expect. (older!reader)

Characters: boss!Lee Bodecker, glimpse of Andy Barber.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“I’ve already asked Anna. She has so much going on already with her daughter and you know I would if Stan wasn’t away on a work trip. Poor Melissa is just too new for a coverage position,” Nicole explains.

“Got it,” you say as you pack up the contents of your desk drawer. “I already said yes.” 

“I know, but I also know it’s a real pain. It’s just that there’s nowhere else that can spare the body and Mr. Barber owes Mr. Bodecker so--” 

“Yep, sacrificial lamb,” you utter dryly as you slide the drawer shut. “Really, Nicole, I get it. You don’t need to go on. We all know how this works. We go where they tell us too.” 

“Yeah, it’s just... he’s chased off three in the last two months. That kind of turnover...” she looks around. “They need someone mature. Who can handle the workload.” 

“Right,” you stand and pick up your box of things. “I won’t be that far away, no big deal.” 

She gives a tense smile and you turn away. You march out of your shared space and down the hall. You understand what she means by ‘workload’. Mr. Bodecker might be a hard ass for all you know but what everyone knows for sure is that he is a menace. There’s a reason those interns left almost soon as they got through the door. 

You claim the empty desk waiting for you and drop the box on it. You roll the chair out and sit. You should’ve wheeled yours over. You adjust the height and wiggle around. Hm, it’ll do. Work is work, no matter how comfortable you are. 

You stand again and take out your laptop and plug it in. Then you unpack your wireless mouse and keyboard and your pad with the wrist rest. You stretch your fingers above the tight brace and sigh. You can use all the ergonomic tools and aids but it’s not getting any better. 

No use putting it off any longer. He probably already knows. You go around the desk and knock on the closed door. 

“Come on in,” Mr. Bodecker drawls from the other side. 

You open the door and step into the doorway, “hello, Mr. Bodecker. Just letting you know I’ve got my stuff moved and I’ll be taking over for the time being, as requested by Mr. Barber.” 

“Barber? Old pal,” he says. “He sent you?” 

You hear it all in his tone. He sent you? I asked for a replacement, not an old lady. You don’t let it bother you. You’re not there for his pleasure. 

“Yes, me,” you confirm. “Is there anything I can do?” 

“Coffee, darlin’,” he winks. 

“Coffee?” 

“Double sugar, no cream.” 

“Sir, I’m an admin assistant, not an intern. I was referring more to your calendar or some tasks--” 

“I asked for the position to be filled. That means getting my coffee, sweetheart.” 

“Mm, sir,” you enunciate the last word sternly. “Again, I’m a professional. I don’t get anyone’s coffee but my own. Would you like me to review your meetings? Should I set aside some time to keep minutes for anything?” 

He huffs and sits back, his face wrinkling in consternation, “you can get outta my office.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

You close the door gently and return to the desk. You sit and tuck away your things in the single drawer. When you finally get sorted, you boot up your computer. Almost at once, a notification pops up. You click on it and a conversation expands across the screen. 

‘Thanks again for taking on the extra work. Please do your best to keep Mr. Bodecker happy. He’s working on a very important project.’ 

You review Mr. Barber’s message. The timing is peculiar. 

‘Yes, sir. I’ve checked in and offered to help arrange his schedule and tasks. I am awaiting further directive but will do my best to support.’ 

Three dots, then none, then three again. The next message pops up. 

‘Get him his coffee.’ 

Really? What is he, a child? Tattling on you? Over a cup of coffee. 

‘Sir, I understood I would perform admin work.’ 

The little eye blips down to show that your message is seen but no message comes. You shake your head and open your inbox. If the success of your work hinges on coffee, then you’re just as good going back with the others. 

You recognise Mr. Barber’s gait. You look up as he appears from around the corner. You sit up and greet him. His hands are in his pocket, his jacket pushed back, his neck and jaw tight. 

“I understand that you don’t think it’s part of your role but for now, it is. You will get Bodecker his coffee and anything else he asks for,” he says without courtesy. 

You try not to show your irritation. It isn’t just the task. You’re not some housewife or barista. On top of that, these men don’t talk to the young ones like this. Or the moms. Nicole and Anna can just mention daycare of soccer and they can get leeway and Melissa, so nice but young, she just needs to smile. That stopped working for you a long time ago. 

“Coffee,” you type as you speak, “I will add it to my roster, sir. I understand. Very important work.” 

“Come on,” he steps closer, looking down at you, “don't be like this. You’re a good worker. You know I respect you and appreciate everything you’ve done. It’s just coffee.” 

“Oh yes, just coffee,” you agree and stand up. “I better go put the pot on. Would you like a cup too, Mr. Barber?” 

He gives a slow blink and pushes his tongue into his cheek, “no, thank you.” 

His own agitation leaks through. He got what he wanted but you didn’t give him the deference he expected. You didn’t apologise for it. You just accepted it. You’ll do it, but you won’t be happy about it. 

“Try a smile,” Barber slips his hand from his pocket and taps the corner of the desk, “it might make things a little easier.” 

You stare at him. He lingers and when you don’t change your expression, he sighs and strides off. How many times had a man told you to smile? Why should you? For them? That’s why you don’t want to get the coffee; you give a little, they’ll take it all. 

[malachiexists13]

EXPLANATION POST: Here

TLDR: I'm doing Kinktober this year using a list I made myself. The blank version is available in the post linked above. Below is the list I'll be editing over the month of October to show what I am writing/not writing and I'm only doing up to two prompts per day. You can submit multiple prompts and there's no limit to how many per character but I cannot promise that they'll all be written this year. Some may be saved for next year.

CHARACTERS

[OBEY ME] Lucifer || Leviathan || Belphegor || Solomon || Barbatos

[IKESEN] Mitsuhide Akechi || Mitsunari Ishida || Ranmaru Mori || Kanetsugu Naoe || Kenshin Uesugi || Kicho

[IKEVAMP] Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart || Comte de Saint-Germain || Sebastian || Johann Georg Faust

[IKEPRI] Chevalier Michel || Licht Klein || Gilbert von Obsidian

[IKEVIL] William Rex || Ellis Twilight || Elbert Greetia

[GENSHIN IMPACT] Aether || Venti || Zhongli || Albedo || Xiao || Kaedehara Kazuha || Thoma || Gorou || Shikanoin Heizou || Tighnari || Cyno || Wanderer/Kunikuzushi/Scaramouche || Alhaitham || Kaveh || Lyney || Freminet || Neuvillette || Wriothesley || Kinich

[DEMON SLAYER] Giyuu Tomioka || Obanai Iguro || Michikatsu Tsugikuni || Yoriichi Tsugikuni

[JUJUTSU KAISEN] Choso Kamo

As the writer, I reserve the right to deny any prompts that I do not feel comfortable writing or any requests from people who are rude and/or disrespectful. If I do not post your request on the day you asked for, it means I either chose not to write it or I may have saved it for next year. Please do not harass and/or send me messages asking about it.

Requests CLOSED

Crossed Out - Not Writing It || Blue Text - Author Picked || Purple Text - Requested

DAY 1: Porn Actors AU || Anonymous Sex || One Night Stand

DAY 2: Handjobs || Fingering || Piercings

DAY 3: Orgasm Control || Squirting || Cumming Early/Prematurely

DAY 4: Make-Up Sex || Mirror Sex || Bondage

DAY 5: Phone Sex || Guided Touching || Rough Sex

DAY 6: Against A Wall || Sixty-Nine || Creampie

DAY 7: Sensory Deprivation || Sex Toys || Breath Play

DAY 8: Workplace Sex || Car Sex || Desk/Office Sex

DAY 9: Choking || Dacryphilia || Hate Sex

DAY 10: Accidental Stimulation || Humiliation || Clothes On

DAY 11: Wet Dreams || Sexual Fantasy || Femdom

DAY 12: First Time/s || Role Reversal || Dirty Talk

DAY 13: Striptease || Fetish Clothing || Lingerie

DAY 14: Discipline/Punishment || Praise/Degradation || Teasing

DAY 15: Bathroom Sex || Public/ Outdoor Sex || Hair-Pulling

DAY 16: Pregnancy Sex || Overstimulation || Lap Dance

DAY 17: Spanking || Roleplay || Blood

DAY 18: Dry Humping || Aphrodisiacs || Intoxication

DAY 19: Begging || Crossdressing || Stomach Bulge

DAY 20: Infidelity/Cuckolding || Threesome || Cunnilingus

DAY 21: Anal/Pegging || Size Difference || Shower/Bath Sex

DAY 22: Breeding || Heats/Ruts || Thigh-riding

DAY 23: Strap-On || Cum Dump || Knotting

DAY 24: Facesitting || Deepthroating || Masturbation

DAY 25: Exhibitionism || Getting Caught || Voyeurism

DAY 26: Double Penetration || Orgy || Switching Partners

DAY 27: Casual Sex/FWB || Monsterfucking || Daddy Kink

DAY 28: Biting/Marking || Jealousy || Possessiveness

DAY 29: Mommy Kink || Blowjob || Blindfolds/Restraints

DAY 30: Cockwarming || Somnophilia || Foreplay/Aftercare

DAY 31: Worship || Sub/Dom || Vanilla Sex || Free Space

--------------------------------------------------------

DAY 1: Disaster || One Night Stand with Gilbert von Obsidian DAY 1: Be Greedy || Anonymous Sex with William Rex

DAY 2: Silver Tongue || Piercings with Xiao DAY 2: Beast's Taste || Fingering with Chevalier Michel

DAY 3: Exploring Curiosity || Premature Orgasm with Ranmaru Mori DAY 3: Mean Detective || Orgasm Control with Shikanoin Heizou

DAY 4: "Forgive Me, Baby?" || Make-Up Sex with Scaramouche DAY 4: Beautiful || Mirror Sex with Belphegor

DAY 5: Good For Me || Guided Touching with Comte de Saint-Germain DAY 5: Stressed || Rough Sex with Michikatsu Tsugikuni

DAY 6: Hard to Say No || Against A Wall with Ellis Twilight DAY 6: Stay In || Crempie with Thoma

DAY 7: Darling Apprentice || Sex Toys with Solomon DAY 7: Experimentation || Sensory Deprivation with Albedo

DAY 8: Pay Attention || Desk/Office Sex with Neuvillette DAY 8: Jealousy, Jealousy~ || Car Sex with Scaramouche

DAY 9: Detestation or Adoration? || Hate Sex with Obanai Iguro DAY 9: Pretty, Even When You Cry || Dacryphilia with Kenshin Uesugi

DAY 10: Not There! || Accidental Stimulation with Kaveh DAY 10: Don't Open The Door || Clothes On with Aether

DAY 11: DAY 11:

DAY 12: A Bet || First Time with Kunikuzushi DAY 12:

DAY 13: DAY 13:

DAY 14: DAY 14:

DAY 15: Apprehension || Outdoor Sex with Freminet DAY 15:

DAY 16: DAY 16:

DAY 17: DAY 17:

DAY 18: A Lesson in Botany || Aphrodisiacs with Tighnari DAY 18:

DAY 19: DAY 19:

DAY 20: Sweet Addiction || Cunnilingus with Kinich DAY 20:

DAY 21: DAY 21:

DAY 22: DAY 22:

DAY 23: DAY 23:

DAY 24: DAY 24:

DAY 25: DAY 25:

DAY 26: DAY 26:

DAY 27: DAY 27:

DAY 28: DAY 28:

DAY 29: DAY 29:

DAY 30: DAY 30:

DAY 31: DAY 31:

--------------------------------------------------------

All works found in these masterlists are only posted to Tumblr and Archive of Our Own under the name "Malachi Exists" or another variation with the number "13". If they are found elsewhere, that means it is a stolen work and should be reported as such.

[moonlightwritingf1]

Reposting this for the anon who is clearly too obsessed and doesn't have a life outside of Tumblr. + Added a new statement too.

I deleted this post because I was under the impression the anon had already seen it—since they love to stalk my blog very in-depth. Luckily, I had written it on Google Docs, like I do with everything I post here, before posting it the first time. And now I’m posting it again because apparently, they didn’t get the memo and love to create fake accounts:

For the anon who’s too coward to use their real account and clearly doesn’t have a life:

I was going to ignore the first ask, but then you had the time, energy, and weird obsession to create a fake account just to send me another ask—and then a private message. So let me be clear

This is the first and last time I address this. Any further messages or asks about this will be deleted and blocked immediately. Tumblr is my safe space—stress and drama free—and I will block anyone who disturbs that for me. You really came onto my blog and did what—threatened me? You ran my writing through an unreliable AI checker and then had the audacity to message me about it? Do you really feel like it's your place to question how people write fanfiction? Why do you feel so entitled to an explanation from someone you don’t even know? To quote you: “DM me and explain why” — WHO are you? And where is this entitlement coming from?

Let me ask you this: Do you not have a life outside of Tumblr? Who takes time out of their day to check if what a stranger posted is “AI” or not? I saw another account getting the same kind of asks recently—was that you too? Are you going blog to blog checking F1 fics like a fanfic detective? If so: get a life, get a job, get a hobby, or better yet—touch grass.

And the audacity to make a fake account just to send another message? Coward behavior. I’ve blocked the first anon ask and now your little fake blog too. I’ll keep blocking every single one if you continue harassing me.

Don’t like what I post? Scroll past it. Block me. Ignore me. I truly do not care. I use Google Docs for all my fics—outline ideas, drafts, requests order. Since that seems hard to believe, here’s one example straight from my docs.

And since you clearly have free time, here are actual credible sources that prove AI checkers are not reliable and should never be used as evidence of anything:

Source

Source

Source

Source

This is especially relevant to me personally, because English is not my native language. I've studied it for over 15 years, l'm currently studying English at university, and I don't live in an English-speaking country. I didn't grow up in an English-speaking country, and I've worked hard to develop my vocabulary, grammar, and writing style. So if my writing sounds "too repetitive" or "too perfect to be written by a human" and gets flagged by some Al detector—that's not proof I used Al. It means I've worked hard to get to this level, even though my English might not always be perfect.

Source

Al that claims to create undetectable Al content or "human Al"

Or maybe you want to read more on Google Scholar:

There are so many sources to inform yourself—you just need to know how to use them.

And this is what really gets me: someone could use Al, lightly edit the output, or run it through one of those "humanize Al" generators and pass every detector with flying colors. Meanwhile, people like me get flagged and questioned for no reason.

Also, if I were actually using Al, I would've used one of those humanizing tools too—so people like you wouldn't harass me over what I post.

These days, it seems you don't even need facts—just a fake account and a superiority complex.

That's all I had to say. Goodbye, and good luck finding a personality.

April 7

A few days after I posted the above post, you went on someone’s blog — someone who had sent me an ask without using the anon option — and sent them an ask about me, as if I had committed a crime. Less than 24 hours ago, you created yet another fake account just to message me (as seen below) and tell me about one of your other accounts (also fake), despite my explicit statement that I would no longer entertain this obsessive behavior.

Let me be extremely clear: I do not owe strangers on the internet an explanation for my writing process — especially not those who appoint themselves as investigators and issue condescending ultimatums. I will not “contact you privately.” I will not “own up” to a false narrative you've built around flawed tools and obsessive pattern-tracking. You do not get to demand private confessions like you're running a tribunal.

I already said everything I had to say when I made that original post, but clearly it didn’t register, and you continue to target me. I looked at the account you mentioned in your message. To quote: “Some members of the group of us working on this project have gone through PhD programs or work in education and understand the inaccuracies and limitations of AI detection tools.”

So you're adults — or so you claim — with PhDs, yet you seem to be unemployed based on the amount of free time you have to analyze what strangers are posting on the internet. Especially posts that are over 2k words long.

Seriously, who has time to do this much? Because I highly doubt someone with an actual job and a life has this much time on their hands.

And as I said in my first post: block me if you don’t like my blog or what I post. It is really that simple.

LEAVE. ME. ALONE.

[amethystarachnid]

hello! i was wondering if i could request trope 20, Christmas Eve Confessions? Could it be Dr Strange x Fem Reader? (if you don’t write for Dr Strange you could message me and i’ll request a different character :3)

maybe it could go something like this, the both of them are sorcerers/wizards and they’re helping each other out around the Sanctum kinda prepping for Christmas, decorations, peoples gifts, and making sure they’ll be no disturbances and such. and once they’re finally sharing a comfortable silence that’s when the both of them are debating if they should confess. The Reader is a tad bit shy and soft spoken, but she’s almost willing to push it aside so she could confess to him, unless Dr Strange does it first of course 👀

any other additional details are up to you! and if you have any questions feel free to message me! (also message me if the request goes through because my internet is slow right now so i’m not sure if it would go through- and i apologize if it sends twice-) have a lovely day!

A SORCERER'S CHRISTMAS

⤷ STEPHEN V. STRANGE

ᯓ★ Pairing: Stephen V. Strange x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.1k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said <3

ᯓ★ TW(s): just fluff

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The Sanctum Sanctorum hums with its usual mystical energy, though the chill of December seeps even through its enchanted walls. You wrap your arms around yourself briefly, taking a deep breath as you glance at the myriad of boxes Stephen set down in the grand foyer. Decorations spill from the lids—strings of lights, ornaments with faint magical glows, and garlands that shimmer as if imbued with life.

Stephen stands a few feet away, surveying the task ahead with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I didn’t think this place could feel any stranger, but now it’s about to look like a department store window.” His tone is teasing, but there’s a warmth in his gaze as it flicks over to you.

You can’t help but chuckle. “Well, if you hadn’t insisted on helping, it wouldn’t look as good as I know it will.” You crouch down to untangle a set of enchanted fairy lights. “Besides, I think it’s nice. Even a sorcerer’s sanctum can use a little holiday spirit.”

He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, his cloak shifting slightly with the movement. “Holiday spirit, huh? You mean a chaotic explosion of tinsel and glitter?”

You tilt your head at him, feigning an exaggerated pout. “Chaos is kind of your thing, Doctor Strange.”

The faint laugh he lets out is enough to send warmth spreading through you, and you quickly return your focus to the lights, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight flush creeping up your cheeks. The two of you fall into a steady rhythm, working in companionable silence to transform the Sanctum’s imposing, ancient halls into something that feels…cozy.

You take a garland and weave it along the staircase banister, pausing to let Stephen levitate an oversized wreath into place above the main doorway. His hands move with practiced precision, the faint blue glow of his magic illuminating the sharp lines of his face. You force yourself to look away before he catches you staring.

“Are you sure Wong won’t think this is ridiculous?” he asks, glancing over at you. “He’s not exactly one for frivolity.”

You grin. “Wong secretly loves Christmas. Trust me, I’ve seen him humming carols when he thinks no one’s listening.”

Stephen chuckles at that, shaking his head as he steps down from his spell-induced hover. “I’ll take your word for it.”

For a moment, the two of you stand side by side, surveying your progress. The decorations transform the space into something almost otherworldly—a reflection of the magic that permeates every corner of the Sanctum but with an added layer of warmth and light. The fairy lights you strung along the walls twinkle like stars, and the faint scent of pine from the garlands fills the air.

“It’s…nice,” Stephen admits, his voice softer now. “You were right.”

You glance up at him, startled by the gentleness in his tone. He’s looking at the decorations, but there’s a thoughtful expression on his face, as if he’s seeing something beyond them. You want to ask what he’s thinking, but before you can, he gestures to the towering box of ornaments near your feet.

“Let’s get those on the tree before you start gloating.”

You laugh, grabbing a handful of shimmering baubles. “I would never gloat. I’m too humble for that.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, arching a skeptical brow as he levitates a particularly ornate ornament to one of the higher branches of the tree. “Remind me of that the next time you beat me at a spell duel.”

You roll your eyes, fighting back a grin. “That only happened once.”

“Twice,” he corrects, his voice tinged with amusement. “Though I’ll admit, you’re a quick learner.”

The compliment catches you off guard, and you falter for a moment, nearly dropping the ornament in your hand. Stephen doesn’t seem to notice, his attention already shifting back to the tree. You exhale softly, reminding yourself to keep your composure.

The hours slip by as the two of you work, the Sanctum gradually transforming into a festive haven. There’s an ease between you, a rhythm to your movements as you pass decorations back and forth and exchange quips. Every so often, your hands brush, and each time it sends a jolt through you, though you quickly disguise it with a joke or a question about where to hang something.

When the last ornament is placed and the final string of lights is hung, you step back, hands on your hips, and take in the sight. The Sanctum has never looked so warm, so inviting. Even Stephen seems impressed, his usual stoicism giving way to a small, genuine smile.

“Not bad,” he says, glancing over at you. “For a department store window, anyway.”

You laugh, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Admit it, you like it.”

He doesn’t deny it, and that alone is enough to make your heart skip a beat.

The two of you settle into a rare moment of stillness, standing side by side in the softly lit foyer. The tree glows with an almost ethereal light, and the faint hum of magic mingles with the warmth of the decorations. It feels…peaceful.

Stephen clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Do you think it’ll stay like this? Quiet, I mean.”

You glance at him, surprised by the question. “Are you worried?”

He hesitates, his gaze fixed on the tree. “Not worried. Just…mindful. The holidays have a way of bringing out unexpected…disturbances.”

You nod, understanding what he means. The two of you have seen enough to know that peace is often fleeting, especially for sorcerers. Still, you can’t help but hope that this moment—this rare, quiet moment—will last.

“We’ve done what we can,” you say softly. “If anything happens, we’ll handle it like we always do.”

He looks at you then, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you think he’s about to say something, but instead, he nods and turns away, his cloak swirling behind him.

As he moves to adjust one of the garlands, you feel a pang of something you can’t quite name. There’s a weight between you, something unspoken that lingers in the air. You’ve felt it before, in the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, in the moments of quiet understanding that pass between you. But neither of you has dared to give it a name.

You watch him for a moment longer, your heart pounding in your chest. Maybe one day, you think. Maybe one day, you’ll find the courage to say what you’ve been holding back for so long. But for now, you let the silence settle around you, comfortable and familiar, as the warmth of the season wraps around you both.

The smell of cinnamon and pine fills the air as you haul another stack of gifts into the study. Stephen’s already there, sitting cross-legged on the floor, a roll of wrapping paper unspooled haphazardly beside him. His cloak drapes itself across a nearby chair, looking vaguely irritated—if such a thing were possible—as it flicks at a stray piece of ribbon that’s landed on its edge.

“You realize we could finish this in about five minutes if we just used a simple spell,” Stephen says without looking up, his tone tinged with exasperation. “One flick of the wrist, and we’re done.”

You drop the stack onto the rug with a dramatic sigh and cross your arms. “And where’s the fun in that? Christmas is about tradition. You can’t cheat your way through wrapping presents.”

He raises an eyebrow, finally glancing up at you. “It’s not cheating. It’s efficiency. There’s a difference.”

“It’s soulless, Strange.” You plop down beside him, grabbing a roll of paper and a pair of scissors. “Besides, it’ll be good for you. You could use some practice with non-magical problem-solving.”

He lets out a quiet laugh, and the sound sends a little flutter through your chest. “Is this your way of saying my practical skills are lacking?”

“I’m just saying,” you reply with a grin, cutting an uneven square of paper. “I’ve seen you fight interdimensional demons with more grace than you handle a pair of scissors.”

“They’re slippery,” he mutters defensively, reaching for another box. His fingers brush against yours for the briefest moment, and you feel a spark that has nothing to do with magic. He pulls back quickly, his expression unreadable, and you force yourself to focus on the task at hand.

The two of you fall into a rhythm, albeit a slightly chaotic one. Stephen’s initial attempts at wrapping are, predictably, a disaster. His folds are uneven, his tape placement haphazard, and at one point, he accidentally cuts through the paper with a flick of his wrist that’s just a little too precise. You’re torn between laughing and feeling bad for him, especially when he holds up his first wrapped gift and it looks more like a crumpled piece of origami than a present.

“Wow,” you tease, biting back a laugh. “Truly a masterpiece. I’m sure Wong will treasure it forever.”

Stephen narrows his eyes at you, though there’s a glimmer of amusement there too. “You’re awfully smug for someone who just cut a piece of paper too small to cover the box.”

You glance down at your own handiwork and groan. “Okay, fine. Maybe we’re both terrible at this.”

He chuckles, leaning back on his hands. “Let’s just agree to blame the tools and not ourselves.”

The banter makes the task feel less like a chore and more like a game. You take turns critiquing each other’s wrapping techniques, and at one point, you start a mock competition to see who can create the neatest package. Stephen, ever the perfectionist, actually starts improving, his movements growing more deliberate as he folds and tapes. You, on the other hand, get distracted watching him. There’s something oddly endearing about seeing the usually poised and composed Doctor Strange frown in concentration over a roll of tape.

“You’re staring,” he says without looking up, his tone casual but tinged with something you can’t quite place.

You blink, startled. “No, I’m not.”

He glances at you then, one eyebrow raised in that infuriatingly knowing way of his. “Right. Must be my imagination.”

You open your mouth to retort but close it again when you realize you don’t have a good comeback. Instead, you grab a bow and toss it at him, grinning when it lands squarely on his head. “There. Much better.”

Stephen doesn’t react immediately. He just sits there, the bow perched lopsidedly on his dark hair, and stares at you. For a moment, you think you’ve crossed some invisible line, but then he breaks into a rare, full smile—the kind that makes your chest feel like it’s simultaneously floating and caving in.

“Careful,” he says, his voice softer now. “I might start thinking you actually enjoy my company.”

You laugh, though it comes out a little breathless. “Don’t let it go to your head, Strange.”

The two of you continue working, the pile of wrapped gifts slowly growing as the evening stretches on. The study is warm and quiet, the only sounds the occasional snip of scissors or rustle of paper. Outside, snow begins to fall, the flakes drifting lazily past the tall windows. It’s peaceful in a way that feels almost unreal, as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only this moment.

As you finish tying a ribbon around the last box, you glance over at Stephen. He’s sitting cross-legged again, his hands resting on his knees as he watches the snow. There’s a faraway look in his eyes, and for a moment, you wonder what he’s thinking.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask softly.

He turns to you, his expression shifting into something more guarded. “Just...thinking about how different this feels. The holidays, I mean. I’m not used to it being so...quiet.”

You nod, understanding. “It’s nice, though. Isn’t it?”

“It is,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze lingers on you for a moment, and you feel your heart skip a beat. There’s something in his eyes that makes you want to reach out, to close the space between you, but you’re too afraid to break the fragile balance of whatever this is.

Instead, you clear your throat and gesture to the now-complete pile of gifts. “Well, mission accomplished. No magic required.”

Stephen’s lips quirk into a small smile. “You were right. It does feel more...personal this way.”

“Told you so.” You grin, leaning back on your hands. “Though I’m pretty sure Wong’s going to think we’ve lost our minds when he sees how much tape we used.”

He laughs, and the sound warms you in a way that has nothing to do with the crackling fire in the hearth. The two of you sit there for a while, the silence between you no longer heavy but comfortable, like an old blanket.

“You know,” Stephen says after a while, his tone contemplative, “you’re...good at this.”

“At what? Wrapping gifts?” you ask, feigning confusion.

“At making things feel...” He pauses, searching for the right word. “Normal. Like they used to.”

Your chest tightens at the quiet vulnerability in his voice. You want to tell him that he does the same for you, that even in the chaos of magic and otherworldly threats, he’s been your anchor. But the words stick in your throat, too big and too fragile to say out loud.

Instead, you nudge him lightly with your shoulder and offer a small smile. “Guess that makes us a good team, huh?”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment, you feel like you’re the only two people in the world. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “We are.”

The moment stretches, and you can’t tell if it’s your imagination or if he’s leaning just a little closer. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you wonder if now—finally—might be the time to say what you’ve been holding back for so long. But before either of you can speak, the sound of Wong clearing his throat echoes from the doorway.

“I see you two have been busy,” he says, his tone neutral but his expression amused as he takes in the pile of gifts and the bits of ribbon and paper scattered across the floor.

Stephen straightens quickly, his usual composure snapping back into place. “Just...wrapping some gifts.”

“Without magic?” Wong raises an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

You laugh, standing up and brushing off your hands. “It’s called holiday spirit. You should try it sometime.”

Wong snorts but doesn’t argue. As he turns to leave, he throws a pointed look over his shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late. You’ll need your energy if something decides to interrupt our peaceful holiday.”

Once he’s gone, you glance at Stephen, who’s still sitting on the floor, his expression unreadable. You hesitate, wondering if the moment you shared has passed for good. But then he looks up at you, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Thanks for insisting we do it this way,” he says, his voice soft. “It...meant something.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you return his smile, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the firelight. “Anytime, Strange. Anytime.”

The morning after your gift-wrapping escapade, the peaceful atmosphere of the Sanctum Sanctorum has shifted. A storm brews outside, snow falling in wild, sideways sheets against the towering windows. You sit in the study, surrounded by a growing mess of Christmas supplies, as you try to make sense of a particularly unruly strand of lights. It’s supposed to blink in a specific pattern but instead flashes like it’s trying to communicate with an alien civilization.

Stephen walks in, his usual air of calm composure noticeably absent. His cloak flutters behind him like it’s agitated, and his expression is tense. You glance up, immediately sensing that something is off.

“Morning,” you say cautiously, testing the waters. “Coffee hasn’t magically brewed itself, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

He doesn’t respond to the joke, which sets off alarm bells. Stephen always has a quip, even when he’s in a mood. Instead, he crosses the room and sits heavily in the chair across from you, running a hand through his dark hair.

“What happened?” you ask, setting the tangled lights aside.

“There’s… been a complication,” he says, his voice tight.

“Complication,” you repeat, leaning forward. “As in apocalyptic complication? Portal-to-another-dimension complication?”

“No,” he says sharply, and then, more quietly, “Not yet. Just… something I need to deal with.”

You study him for a moment. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, avoiding your gaze. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

That stings more than you’d like to admit. You’ve faced down countless threats together, stood by his side when the odds were stacked against you both. And now he’s shutting you out? The hurt bubbles to the surface before you can stop it.

“Right,” you say, your voice colder than you intended. “Nothing I need to worry about. Got it.”

His head snaps up, and for a moment, you see a flicker of regret in his eyes. But it’s gone just as quickly, replaced by the guarded expression he wears like armor. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No?” You stand, the tangled lights dropping to the floor. “Because it sure sounds like you’re saying I’m not capable of handling whatever’s going on.”

Stephen sighs, standing as well. He towers over you, his frustration evident. “This isn’t about capability. It’s about protecting you.”

“Protecting me?” You let out a humorless laugh. “Stephen, do you even hear yourself? I’m not some civilian who stumbled into this world by accident. I’m your partner, or at least I thought I was.”

“You are,” he says, his voice softening. “You are my partner. But sometimes—”

“Sometimes what? You don’t trust me?” The words spill out before you can stop them, and you immediately regret the vulnerability in your tone.

He looks stricken. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” you demand, your frustration masking the ache in your chest. “Because right now, it feels like you’re pushing me away.”

Stephen opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, the ground beneath you trembles slightly—a subtle vibration that you’ve learned to recognize all too well. Both of you freeze, the tension between you momentarily forgotten.

“Disturbance?” you ask, already bracing yourself.

He nods grimly, and within seconds, the two of you are moving in tandem, the argument shelved but far from resolved. The Sanctum’s defenses hum to life as the source of the tremor grows closer. You catch a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye—a distortion in the air, like heat waves rising from pavement.

And then it appears. A portal, jagged and unstable, tears open in the center of the room. Through it steps a figure cloaked in shadow, their presence radiating a dark energy that makes your skin crawl. Stephen steps in front of you instinctively, his hands already glowing with the beginnings of a spell.

The confrontation is brief but intense. Together, you and Stephen drive the intruder back through the portal, sealing it before any real damage can be done. But the effort leaves both of you shaken. As the Sanctum settles back into its usual hum of quiet power, you find yourself staring at Stephen, your earlier frustration returning with a vengeance.

“See?” you say, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and adrenaline. “This is exactly why you can’t keep me in the dark. If you had told me what was going on—”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” he interrupts, his tone sharp.

“Are you kidding me?” You take a step closer, your hands balling into fists at your sides. “Stephen, I’m not some liability you need to shield. I’m your equal. Or at least, I thought I was.”

He looks at you then, his expression a mix of guilt and something else—something deeper that he’s trying to hide. “You are,” he says softly. “You’re more than that.”

The admission catches you off guard, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. The weight of his words hangs in the air between you, thick and charged. But before you can press him to elaborate, he turns away, running a hand through his hair.

“I just—” He exhales sharply, his shoulders tense. “I can’t lose you.”

The raw honesty in his voice cuts through your anger like a blade. You feel your defenses crumbling, the frustration giving way to something softer, something more vulnerable.

“You’re not going to lose me,” you say, your voice gentler now. “But if you keep shutting me out, you’re going to push me away. Is that what you want?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, and the silence stretches until you’re sure he’s not going to. But then he turns back to you, his expression open in a way you’ve never seen before.

“No,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s the last thing I want.”

The confession sends a jolt through you, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest. For a moment, you’re not sure what to say. The tension between you feels different now, heavier but in a way that makes you want to step closer, not further away.

“Stephen—” you begin, but the words catch in your throat.

He takes a step toward you, closing the distance between you. His gaze holds yours, and for the first time, you see the full depth of what he’s been holding back—the fear, the longing, the vulnerability.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “For pushing you away. For trying to handle everything on my own.”

You nod, your throat tight. “I just… I need to know you trust me. That we’re in this together.”

“We are,” he says firmly, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. “Always.”

The words are simple, but they carry a weight that makes your chest ache. You want to believe him, to let go of the lingering doubt and frustration. And as he reaches out, his hand brushing against yours, you realize that you do.

For a long moment, the two of you stand there, the world outside forgotten. The storm rages on, the snow battering against the windows, but inside, everything feels still.

“Okay,” you say softly, squeezing his hand. “But next time, no secrets. Deal?”

“Deal,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The tension between you eases, replaced by a tentative warmth. It’s not a perfect resolution, but it’s a start.

The storm outside eventually fades into the background as the two of you return to the task at hand: decorating the tree. The argument lingers faintly, like the smell of smoke after a fire has been extinguished, but the air between you is warmer now. You’ve both said what needed to be said, and though things still feel a little fragile, there’s an unspoken agreement to move forward.

Stephen picks up a box of ornaments and studies it like it might bite him. “So, what’s the plan here? Do we have a specific theme? Or are we just throwing random baubles on and hoping for the best?”

You suppress a smile, unable to resist an opening like that. “Random baubles, huh? Is that your professional sorcerer opinion?”

He rolls his eyes, though there’s a faint pink tinge to his ears. “I’m serious. This is your area of expertise, apparently.”

“Oh, so now I’m the Christmas tree expert?” You smirk, grabbing a handful of tinsel and tossing it around your shoulders like a boa. “What happened to Mr. ‘Efficiency Is Better Than Tradition’?”

Stephen glares at the tinsel for a moment before his lips twitch in what might be the beginnings of a smile. “Efficiency is for wrapping presents. Decorating a tree is apparently a whole other… ritual.”

“Exactly!” you say, pointing a finger at him. “It’s all about the experience. You can’t just magic your way through this one, Strange.”

He mutters something under his breath about the inefficiency of tradition but doesn’t argue further. Instead, he picks up a glass ornament shaped like a snowflake and examines it with the kind of focus he usually reserves for ancient texts and mystical artifacts. It’s endearing, really, how out of his element he looks.

“You know,” you say, unable to resist, “you’re awfully careful with that ornament for someone who once juggled three flaming swords during a fight with a demon.”

Stephen shoots you a look, his brow furrowing. “Those swords were enchanted. This is… delicate.”

You snort. “So is your ego.”

The snowflake slips from his fingers, and for a split second, you both freeze. But then he mutters a quick spell, and the ornament hovers in midair, spinning gently before he catches it. His face is a mixture of relief and exasperation as he sets the snowflake on the tree.

“Careful,” you tease, grinning. “Wouldn’t want Wong to hear that you almost dropped one of his prized decorations.”

“Why do I let you do this to me?” he mutters, though there’s no real bite in his words.

“Because you secretly love it,” you reply cheerfully, grabbing another ornament and tossing it to him. He catches it without looking, his reflexes annoyingly perfect even when he’s flustered.

The two of you fall into a rhythm, hanging ornaments and draping garlands with an ease that feels almost domestic. But every so often, you can’t help but prod him, throwing in little comments just to see that faint pink blush creep back into his cheeks.

“Nice placement,” you say, gesturing to a particularly crooked ornament. “Very avant-garde. Didn’t know you were such an artist.”

“It’s not crooked,” he insists, stepping back to examine it. Then, with a frown: “Okay, maybe it is.”

You laugh, reaching over to adjust it. Your fingers brush against his, and he pulls back quickly, his movements stiff. The awkwardness is almost palpable, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing. For someone who exudes confidence in every other aspect of his life, Stephen is hilariously bad at navigating these kinds of moments.

“Relax, Strange,” you say, giving him a sly smile. “It’s just a Christmas tree. Not a mystical artifact of great power.”

“I know that,” he says, his tone defensive. “I’m perfectly relaxed.”

“Sure you are,” you say, stepping back to admire the tree. “You look as relaxed as Wong does when I mention the word ‘karaoke.’”

Stephen glares at you, but the effect is somewhat ruined by the way his lips twitch, betraying his amusement. “One of these days, your jokes are going to get you into trouble.”

“Maybe,” you say with a shrug. “But until then, they’re going to keep making you blush.”

His jaw tightens, and you can practically see him willing himself not to react. It’s adorable, really, how hard he tries to maintain his composure. But then you catch his gaze lingering on you a moment too long, and your teasing falters, replaced by a sudden, heart-pounding awareness of how close you’re standing.

The moment stretches, and for once, you don’t have a quip ready. Stephen clears his throat, breaking the silence, and takes a step back, busying himself with a strand of lights. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and turn back to the tree, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest.

The awkwardness lingers, but it’s softened by the occasional shared glance, the way his hand brushes yours when you both reach for the same ornament. You can’t help but wonder if he feels it too, this strange, magnetic pull that seems to grow stronger every time you’re near him.

“Are you always this insufferable during the holidays?” he asks eventually, his tone light but tinged with curiosity.

“Only when I’m decorating with someone who’s so easy to mess with,” you reply, shooting him a grin.

He shakes his head, but there’s a small smile on his lips now, the tension between you easing. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you say, draping a strand of tinsel over his shoulders. “Stuck with me.”

Stephen’s smile widens, and for a moment, you see something in his expression that makes your breath catch. He doesn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes says enough. Maybe, just maybe, being stuck with you isn’t the worst thing in the world.

By the time the tree is fully decorated, the awkwardness has given way to a quiet camaraderie. You sit on the floor beside Stephen, admiring your handiwork as the twinkling lights cast a warm glow over the room. The storm outside has quieted, the snow falling gently now, and the Sanctum feels like a haven—a world unto itself.

“Not bad,” you say, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “For a couple of sorcerers.”

Stephen chuckles, his gaze fixed on the tree. “Not bad at all.”

The comfortable silence stretches between you, and for a moment, everything feels right. But then you glance at him, catching the way the lights reflect in his eyes, and your heart skips a beat. The teasing words that come so easily to you suddenly feel inadequate, and you wonder if he can hear the unspoken feelings in the quiet.

You look away quickly, focusing on the tree. “So,” you say, your voice a little too loud, “what’s next on the Christmas to-do list?”

Stephen smirks, clearly picking up on your attempt to change the subject. “Mistletoe, apparently. Wong insisted we have some, though I have no idea where he put it.”

“Mistletoe, huh?” You raise an eyebrow, your grin returning. “Dangerous territory, Strange. You sure you can handle it?”

He laughs, and the sound is warm and genuine. “I think I’ll manage. As long as you don’t hang it directly above my chair.”

“No promises,” you say with a wink, feeling the awkward tension melt away again. Whatever this is between you—this dance of teasing and unspoken emotions—it’s messy and complicated, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

As the night goes on, the two of you continue decorating the Sanctum, the occasional awkward moment giving way to laughter and warmth. And though you don’t say it out loud, you know that this Christmas, with all its chaos and imperfection, is one you’ll never forget.

The Sanctum is uncharacteristically serene as you and Stephen sink into the plush couch, the warmth from the nearby fire casting a golden glow across the room. Outside, the snow has settled into a quiet, delicate fall, a soft white blanket draping over the city. The once-chaotic mess of decorations has been transformed into a festive masterpiece: garlands twined along the railings, twinkling lights adorning the walls, and the Christmas tree standing proudly in the corner, shimmering with every color imaginable.

Wong is nowhere to be seen, having retreated to another part of the Sanctum hours ago, muttering something about tea and solitude. It’s just you and Stephen now, the silence between you comfortable yet charged with unspoken words.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. He’s leaning back against the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest. His usually sharp features are softened in the firelight, the lines of his face etched with something like contentment. He’s still wearing that ridiculous strand of tinsel you draped over his shoulders earlier, and the sight makes you smile.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you say, breaking the silence. “Thinking about something?”

Stephen turns his head to look at you, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Just… enjoying the peace. It’s rare around here.”

“True,” you say, nodding. “But I think we earned it. That tree didn’t decorate itself, after all.”

He chuckles, a low, rich sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “You’re not going to let me live down the ornament thing, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you reply with a grin. “It’s not every day I see the great Doctor Strange fumbling with Christmas decorations.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a warmth in his expression that makes your chest tighten. You’re suddenly very aware of how close you’re sitting, your knees almost touching, the space between you feeling impossibly small.

The words you’ve been holding back all evening rise to the surface, clamoring to be said. You glance at the tree, the lights, the snow falling softly outside. It feels like the perfect moment, the kind you’ve only ever seen in movies. And as your gaze drifts upward, you notice something that makes your heart skip a beat.

Mistletoe. Dangling just above the couch, its green leaves and tiny white berries gleaming in the firelight.

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you hesitate. Is this too cliché? Too obvious? But then Stephen shifts beside you, his fingers brushing against yours on the couch, and all your doubts vanish.

“Stephen,” you say softly, turning to face him fully.

He meets your gaze, his expression curious but guarded. “Yeah?”

Your heart pounds as you take a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I’ve been meaning to say for a while now.”

His brow furrows slightly, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you think he’s going to interrupt, to stop you. But he stays quiet, his gaze steady and unreadable.

You forge ahead, your voice trembling slightly. “I know we’ve been through a lot together—fighting off threats, saving the world, arguing about Christmas lights—” You pause, your lips quirking into a nervous smile. “But somewhere along the way, it stopped being just about teamwork for me.”

Stephen’s eyes widen slightly, the guarded look in his expression faltering. You press on, the words spilling out before you can second-guess them.

“I care about you,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “More than I probably should. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest as you search his face for a reaction. For a moment, he looks stunned, his lips parted slightly, his gaze fixed on you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

And then, slowly, a smile spreads across his face. It’s soft and a little shy, and it makes your breath catch all over again.

“I thought I was the only one,” he says, his voice low and rough with emotion.

Your eyes widen. “Wait, what?”

Stephen leans closer, his hand brushing against yours on the couch. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been? Pretending that I don’t feel… everything when I’m around you?” He lets out a soft, almost self-deprecating laugh. “I thought you’d never see me as anything more than an arrogant sorcerer.”

“I mean, you are an arrogant sorcerer,” you tease, a grin breaking through your shock. “But I guess I like you anyway.”

His laugh this time is louder, freer, and it sends a thrill through you. He reaches up, his hand cupping your cheek, and the warmth of his touch makes your heart flutter.

“You’re insufferable,” he says, his tone affectionate. “But so am I. Maybe that’s why this works.”

Your breath hitches as he leans in, his gaze flicking briefly upward. “And look at that,” he murmurs, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Mistletoe.”

You glance up, a laugh bubbling out of you. “Convenient, huh?”

“Very,” he agrees, his voice soft as he closes the remaining distance between you.

When his lips meet yours, it’s like the world tilts on its axis. The kiss is gentle at first, tentative, as if he’s afraid this might all be a dream. But then his hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepens, stealing the breath from your lungs.

You lose yourself in the sensation—the warmth of his lips, the way his thumb strokes your cheek, the faint scent of cedar and magic that clings to him. It’s everything you didn’t know you needed, and yet it feels like coming home.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathing heavily, your foreheads resting together. Stephen’s eyes search yours, and you see a vulnerability there that makes your chest ache.

“Is this real?” he whispers, his voice so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

You smile, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face. “It’s real.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, exhaling softly. “Good. Because I don’t think I could go back to pretending.”

“Me neither,” you admit, your voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

The two of you sit there for a long moment, the weight of your confession settling over you like a warm blanket. And as you lean into him, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, you can’t help but feel like this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Above you, the mistletoe sways gently, as if in approval.

[antheyaaa]

"Taking Care of You"

Tom Taylor x reader

The moment you stepped into the bedroom, you knew something was wrong. The usual warmth that filled the space whenever Tom was around had been replaced by an eerie stillness. The covers on the bed were tangled, and in the middle of them lay Tom, curled up, his face half-buried in the pillow.

Your heart clenched.

— "Tom?" — you called softly, stepping closer.

A low groan was the only response you got.

You sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pressing your palm against his forehead. The heat that met your touch confirmed what you already suspected—he had a fever.

— "Sweetheart, you’re burning up."

Tom cracked open one eye, his voice rough and barely above a whisper.

— "M’fine..."

You arched an eyebrow, brushing damp curls off his forehead.

— "Oh yeah? That’s why you look like you’re about to melt into the sheets?"

Another groan.

— "Don’t be mean to me when I’m dying."

You bit back a smile. Dramatic as ever.

— "You’re not dying, love. You just have a fever."

Tom huffed, turning onto his back with a dramatic sigh.

— "Same thing."

Rolling your eyes, you leaned down to press a soft kiss to his forehead.

— "You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re sick."

Tom smirked weakly, eyes fluttering shut.

— "Tell me more... might help me recover faster."

You let out a laugh, shaking your head.

— "Stay here, I’ll get you some medicine and tea."

— "Don’t leave me..."

His voice was soft, almost childlike, and it made something in your chest tighten.

— "I’ll be right back, I promise."

---

Thirty Minutes Later

By the time you returned with a tray—hot tea, medicine, soup, and a damp cloth—Tom had shifted onto his side, watching the door with half-lidded eyes like he had actually been waiting for you.

— "That took ages."

You set the tray down with a pointed look.

— "It took fifteen minutes, you baby."

— "Felt like hours."

— "Well, you’ll survive. Here, sit up."

Tom groaned dramatically but obeyed, propping himself up against the pillows as you handed him the medicine. He swallowed it with a grimace.

— "That tastes awful."

— "It’s medicine, love. It’s not supposed to taste like chocolate."

Tom pouted, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself as you handed him the cup of tea.

— "You could at least kiss me better."

You snorted.

— "Nice try, but I’m not getting sick just because you can’t keep your hands to yourself."

Tom sighed theatrically.

— "Fine. But when you get sick, I expect full kisses, cuddles, and no complaints."

— "Deal."

His eyes softened as he took a sip of his tea.

— "You’re too good to me."

You reached out, brushing a stray curl from his forehead.

— "Someone’s gotta take care of you."

Tom set his cup down and reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours.

— "I love you, you know that?"

Your heart melted at the way he looked at you—soft, full of warmth, even in his fever-induced haze.

— "I know."

You leaned forward, pressing a feather-light kiss to his temple.

— "And I love you too. Even when you’re an overgrown toddler with the flu."

Tom chuckled, squeezing your hand.

— "You’re stuck with me, love."

You smiled, curling up beside him on the bed.

— "I wouldn’t have it any other way."

I wrote this a few days ago and I finally have time to post it. It just so happens that I was sick at the same time I was writing it so you could say I was inspired by myself lol.Remember, don't be afraid and feel free to send me messages and requests.

With love-Antheya

[phrogarmyinvasion]

Asylum Town Discord Server Information:

To everyone viewing this, I have made a discord server called Asylum Town. Originally it was intended to be a space for Canadians to assist Americans who are looking into asylum or immigration as a form of safety amidst Trump’s dictatorship. However, the server now serves many other purposes, including but not limited to:

Survival resources (self sustainability guides, guides for surviving late stage capitalism, dealing with internet safety, medical guides for various emergencies, medicinal herbs and plants, gardening and animal care, how to speak with cops and law enforcement, protecting your community from ICE, etc)

Immigration and Asylum resources. Though most of what is in the server now is geared towards moving to Canada, there have been requests for information on immigrating to places like Ireland and Norway, and so there is space in the server for info on other countries as well.

Guides and information on resistance and protests. This includes info like upcoming boycotts and protests, safety guides to protesting, how to use technology in a protest in order to remain safe, how to deal with law enforcement at a peaceful protest when the power gets to their heads, etc.

Information on other discord servers that have similarly aligned missions and goals.

I do need to say that because this server is intended as a safe space for those affected by Trump or similar world figures with similar world views, there will be no tolerance for racism, sexism, queerphobia, ableism, anti-immigrant rhetoric, and so forth. Any amount of bigotry or right wing dog whistles will be shut down immediately.

The server is open to all who need assistance while the world is on fire, and while it was originally intended for a very specific goal, I think it’s pretty clear that the whole world is in disarray, and we all need community and resources in order to survive and fight back.

It should be noted that because Canada has recently made it clear they are tightening the borders, it is now harder than ever to seek asylum or immigrate. As such, we are focusing our efforts more on surviving rather than refuge, but we are still supplying info on how to build a strong case to get into Canada despite the latest restrictions. However, I do encourage y’all to consider other countries as alternatives. Ireland is one that I’ve been hearing more and more, and I am currently doing research for members of the server, so it may be a good place to set your sights on if you intend to leave America.

The main goal of the server is community, and above that the goal is to provide for one another and create a network of safety and assistance so that if anyone struggles at any point, there is someone in the server to help out.

If you’d like to join, you can do so here: https://discord.gg/qEWgVDZZh7

If you have any questions feel free to message me here on Tumblr, I’m relatively active on here so I’m constantly checking my inbox. If you have suggestions, I’m happy to hear them as well.

Lastly, if you know anyone who could benefit from a server like this, feel free to share it with them.

I hope y’all have an amazing day, and that those of you who join the server can find the resources you’re looking for. All the best!

[poraphia]

"The Battle of His Teal Hoodie."

➵ PAIRING! cc!wilbur x student!reader

➵ CREATING! 10.5.23 | 751 words

➵ CONTAINING! oversized hoodie, facetime calls, reader is a university student

➵ SAYING! literally so self-indulgent. ive been studying for like an hour straight in the library and im still THINKING ABOUT THAT HOODIE BRO IM GONNA GET IT ONE DAY WATCH BARKABRKARK btw if u wanna be in my taglist feel free to message me okay mwa mwa enjoy

——————•°•✿•°•——————•

When your boyfriend is over six foot and has an entire collection of merch where his name is plastered over cozy polyester hoodies,

you bet your sweet ass I was going to steal at least five of them.

College life wasn’t as romanticized as I thought it would be. Sure, the warmth of a coffee during a chilly morning while endlessly typing on my laptop sounded good on paper, but I guess I forgot to mention the endless due dates and upcoming exams I had to study for. I found myself buried in the corner of the university’s library on the quietest floor. I looked through my schedule, crossing out any assignments I already completed and also checking back on my classes to see if I needed to make any event adjustments.

My eyes felt heavy as I took another gulp of my caffeinated drink. My headphones shielded my ears comfortably as gentle sounds of a guitar strumming and a buttery voice filled my senses. A deep sigh escaped my nostrils before I sat back in my seat, slightly rolling away from the desk I was sitting at.

Bzzz! Bzzz!

I looked over to my phone on my desk before picking it up. I was welcomed by a picture of Wil with lipstick marks all over his face. Smiling, I swiped open the call to see my beautiful boyfriend walking around the busy streets of Brighton. I propped my phone up against my laptop to give him a full angle of me and the bookshelves behind me.

“Hey, darling, I missed you!” He smiled brightly.

“I missed you too, Wil. How was studio recording?” I asked. I pushed my laptop a little further back to make space in between me and my notebook. I took a colorful highlighter and started to go over my notes as he spoke.

“Studio was fine. We’re almost done recording a whole song for the new EP, so that should be exciting.” He chuckled. “I’m just heading over to Tom’s until you get out of school. Do you wanna get some lunch together after I pick you up?”

“Yeah, I could go for a sandwich and pretzel honestly.” I smiled, imagining the salty and buttery taste of the pretzel in my mouth already.

“Sounds good,” he confirmed. He took a glance of me briefly before doing a double take. “Hey, what are you wearing?” He asked. He held his phone closer to his face, only giving me an angle of his mess of curly hair and forehead.

“Hmm?” I hummed. “I’m just wearing my usual clothes.” I answered, oblivious.

“Now you’re just lying to me!” He laughed. “I see you smiling! Go on, stand up and let me that hoodie.”

With a defeated sigh, I stood up with my back nearly against the bookshelves so he could get a full angle of my outfit. I was wearing white tennis shoes, black shorts, but most distinctly of all, I was wearing Wil’s teal hoodie from his “Wilbur Soot ‘96” collection. The hoodie was nearly two sizes bigger than me with the sleeves going past my fingertips and my shorts just barely showing from how long the article of clothing was.

“Mhm,” he hummed. “So you decided to steal my merch, huh?”

“It’s comfy!” I exclaimed, hugging myself with the long sleeves wrapped around my waist. “Plus it smells like you, and it has your name on it! Wearing this is like screaming I’m the best partner Mr. Soot could ever ask for!” I went over and picked up my phone before holding it above my head.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He chuckled. “I’m going to steal that back once I pick you up.” He threatened, waving his finger into the camera.

“Over my dead body.” I stuck my tongue out at him. Wil scoffs, holding his hand to his chest as if offended.

“Oh, we’re going to brawl, just you wait.” He held his camera close to his eyes before bringing his lips to the camera. “Love you though!” Before I could say anything else, he hung on me.

I stared down at my phone. I smiled, tilting my head a little as I fiddled with the strings of my— or rather— Wil’s hoodie.

Maybe I should run to the gym a bit after class as a warmup.

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