#and if you do feel this way and you need to talk about it

[yeahxsurexokay13]

wrong guy, lando norris

summary: fans think yn is dating max, but they've got the wrong guy [bsf!reader]

been a min since i posted! honestly, these just take me way too long and i usually end up abandoning them because i start hating them halfway through from overthinking lol. hope you enjoy this one though (: xx

y/n.y/l 📍 Ibiza, Spain

Liked by riabish, carlossainz55 and 159.870 others

y/n.y/l we only argued 3 times, cried 2, and got lost 1 (personal record)

view all 579 comments

user9 right so who argued? who cried? and most importantly whO IS THE SHADOW?

user14 can we talk about how u're LITERALLY glowing in that first pic? u look so happy, girl!!

user20 the vibes on this dump… rich people's holidays just hit different.

iamrebeccad ✓ Beautiful girl 😍

y/n.y/l 🫶🏼 miss youu!!

user4 “cried 2 times” is actually impressive ♥︎ by author

user55 lando and max just casually being brothers in the fourth pic 😩❤️

user81 that shot is just *chef’s kiss*!!!! Glad we can always count on this queen for hq content

user63 Okay so I’ve been staring at this shadow pic for like 10 minutes, and I can’t figure it out…

user33 my money’s on max bc that hug pic of them earlier too… feels very coupley.

user63 idk friends to lovers agenda thriving tho

user3 Max and Lando with the face masks are killing me 😂 ♥︎ by author

user6 max or lando? place your bets now. i’m team max but i’ll die on this hill if i'm wrong

user2 which you are, because it’s definitely Lando

user8 guys they’ve literally known each other since forever and go on these friends holidays all the time lmao this is just FRIENDSHIP GOALS. stop romanticising everything!!!

user24 then explain the head kiss?

user8 friendly head kisses???

user24 friendly kisses?? in this economy? be serious. that’s couple behaviour

user12 smells like a third wheel in here…

y/n.y/l sorry, that's just me. i am the third wheel🙋🏼‍♀️

user13 she really said 'stop shipping me with my best friends' lol

user44 max and lando with the face masks in the water might be my new favourite photo of all time

user16 ngl that's not bad statistics for a week long trip ♥︎ by author

user11 If it’s Max, I’ll cry. If it’s Lando, I’ll cry harder. If it’s neither, I don’t know what I’ll do.

user18 i’ve been following these three for years and i’m still trying to figure out if that last slide is supposed to be romantic or not….? HELP I AM SO CONFUSED

user22 what book is that? i need recommendations!!

y/n.y/l just for the summer!!! LOVED it x

user10 i can’t believe she was so chill about posting thAT LAST PIC!??!! miss y/l!!! SPILL NOW

maxfewtrell ✓ Why are you saying 'we'? Pretty sure you were the one who did all of those

landonorris ✓ classic move, shifting the blame

y/n.y/l @/landonorris @/maxfewtrell the getting lost part was definitely a team effort

user1 I need to go on a trip with friends like this ♥︎ by author

user5 being that close to lando AND max and surviving the friendship without catching feelings was too good to be true let's be honest

pietra.pilao 😍😍

y/n.y/l 💞💞

user7 so when’s the next ‘friends holiday'? asking for a friend (me)

15 August 2024

maxfewtrell ✓

Liked by landonorris, y/n.y/l and 98.982 others

maxfewtrell The real girlfriend reveal, for the record 🫡

👤 pietra.pilao

view all 398 comments

user1 WAIT WHAT

user6 so it really wasn’t Y/n??

pietra.pilao ❤️❤️ ♥︎ by author

user4 omg she's the girl who commented on yn's holiday dump!!!

user3 We owe Max and his gf an apology 😭 She’s stunning, btw

user2 omg u two are so cuteeeeeeee! happy for u max :)

user5 your gf is so pretty 😭😭😭

y/n.y/l P!!!! 💕💕

y/n.y/l you two make a better couple than you and I ever would anyway 😂 ♥︎ by author

user9 WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS EARLIER?! we’ve been spiralling for WEEKS

user12 actually he's been saying it from the beginning. we just didn't want to listen 😂😂

user8 max: “here’s my gf. leave me out of y/n’s business”

user12 OK but pietra is STUNNING!! Max, you’ve been hiding her for how long?!

user7 the way he had to clarify this because of us is actually hilarious. sorry, Max.

user11 OMG I feel so dumb now we really had y/n in a whole relationship she wasn’t even in 😭

29 August 2024

y/n.y/l

Liked by oscarpiastri, sophiaaemelia and 289.034 others

y/n.y/l outtakes from ai·bee·thuh

view all 930 comments

user1 AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!?? MYSTERY SOLVED IG

user12 I THINK THIS MIGHT BE THE GREATEST THING TO HAPPEN TO MY FEED THIS YEAR I AM NOT EVEN JOKING

maxfewtrell ✓ So Lando gets the cute video and I get the passed out in the car pic? Playing favourites, I see. Noted.

user8 Max calling out Y/n for favoritism is peak sibling energy

user33 i can't believe we were full on shipping them not even a week ago omg

maxfewtrell ✓ Also, can everyone stop tagging me in that shadow pic now? Like, I’m good, it’s definitely not me 😅 ♥︎ by author

user11 pietra honestly deserves a medal for surviving this holiday with these three omg

user17 GUYS I WAS ALREADY PRETTY SHOCKED AT LANDO'S VIDEO BLOWING A KISS I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I HAD COMING

pietra.pilao Special week 🤍 ♥︎ by author

user81 the lift photo with the McDonald’s bag is so relatable. even on a fancy holiday, you gotta have your nuggets ♥︎ by author

user25 turns out Max wasn't lying when he said y/n wasn’t his headache... lando’s the lucky one 😂

user10 and y/n and pietra? they do ✨besties ✨ better than anyone ♥︎ by author

user19 can we get a ‘whoops, my bad’ from the ppl who saw them in Ibiza and STILL missed the fact that Pietra was there?

user2 they literally had a front row seat to the full gossip and still didn’t catch on !!!!! like hELLO? u had one job

user14 THE SOFT LAUNCH TURNED INTO A HARD LAUNCH REAL QUICK I AM SHOOK

alexandrasaintmleux ✓ Ahhh loveeee 🩷🩷 ♥︎ by author

user26 both boys punching above their weight fr. i said what i said.

francisca.cgomes ✓ ❤️❤️😍 ♥︎ by author

user16 The way Max is sleeping in that last pic has me wheezing ♥︎ by author

user3 lando is literally holding y/n like he’s never letting her go boy is WHIPPED

user29 WE'RE GOING TO SEE "LANDO NORRIS' PARTNER" UNDER YN'S NAME NOW WHEN SHE WATCHES FROM THE GARAGE what a time to be alive

user7 not the way y/n is casually posting a McDonald’s bag in a robe and THEN dropping the most beautiful couple pic with lando

user5 waIT SO THE BOY KISSING HER HEAD IN THE SHADOW PIC WAS LANDO??? WE WERE ALL WRONG. I NEED TO LIE DOWN.

maxfewtrell you know, it truly baffles me how this was barely even considered

y/n.y/l no one believed in me enough to be able to pull f1 race winner lando norris. humbling.

user20 YN I - 😭😭😭😭💀💀

user38 it was a couple’s holiday the whole time 😭😭 I need a moment to recover

user9 this fandom’s clownery knows no bounds istg.........

user21 not me crying over the hard launch of the year when I was just admiring Max’s sleeping face 5 seconds ago

user24 Ibiza really gave us everything: friendship goals, couple goals, and max in a food coma

user18 IT WAS LANDO KISSING HER HEAD. I feel so betrayed by my own theories and also pretty disappointed in myself i couldn't tell it was his shadow

landonorris ✓ I see you saved the best for last 🖤

y/n.y/l ☺️☺️

y/n.y/l omg guys i wasn’t being dry i just don’t know what else to say with all you watching 😭😭

1 September 2024

[chleem]

Mr & Mrs Starkey

One shot: husband drew x wife yn 

Summary: In which your 5 year-old son catches you kissing santa claus, oblivious to the fact that it's just drew under the costume.

Genre: fluff, smut (shower sex )

⋆.˚ please dont copy or translate my work!

♡⸝⸝ merry xmas! | mistletoe | halloween

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You lean against the doorframe of the shared bedroom, watching ‘Santa Claus’ place wrapped gifts under the Christmas tree. 

Drew’s movements are very sloppy, due to the big red suit he’s wearing. 

“Seems like Santa needs to lose some weight,” you tease, not even trying to hide how funny you find his situation. 

Recently, your son, Ben learned about Santa Claus and how he brings presents to kids, and like any curious five-year-old, he's completely captivated by the idea of ‘catching’ Santa. The details of his plan are a little hazy to you—he mentioned it about a month ago, but you forgot the specifics.

You told Drew that no costume was necessary; just eat the cookies on the table and put the presents in place. But Drew insisted. And now, here he is, awkwardly fumbling around in a full Santa suit. 

Placing the last gift under the tree, he turns around, his white beard and hat threatening to slip off. His blue eyes meets yours with annoyance, lips pressed in a thin line. “Well, usually my elves do this.”

You giggle, finding Drew’s dedication to the part funny and cute. “Okay, Mr Claus,” you walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “take a break and have some cookies, huh?”

The annoyance in his eyes fade away, his shoulders relaxing under your touch. “You could’ve been my elf,” he murmurs, hands wrapping around your waist. 

“But I’m Mrs Claus, remember? I stay home, do dishes, yadayada,” you joke, rolling your eyes dramatically. “leave the heavy work- important work to you.”

Drew parts his mouth, looking down at you with a knowing look. 

“I did wrap the presents, didn’t I?” You continue to say. “Doesn’t that count for being an elf? I picked out the gifts, payed for it, set the tree up with Ben-“

Drew’s lips aggressively thrusts itself into yours; tongue fighting for access. You gasp into his mouth; taken aback by the abrupt action. That allows the slip of his tongue, tangling in with yours. 

The cheap fake beard makes it hard to concentrate though; the rough hairs getting in between. 

You pull away from him; eyes hooding with a soft smile on your lips. “Rude.”

“You talk too much sometimes,” he murmurs, a hand going up to cup your face. 

“Isn’t that why you married me-“

He plants his lips on yours again, and you giggle against his lips. 

Drew laughs too; the warmth between you two palpable, the quiet intimacy of the moment almost too perfect. Drew’s hand, still cupping your face, gently tugs you closer, his thumb brushing over your cheek in that way that always makes you melt. The kiss deepens, slow and soft, as if he’s savoring every second of it. 

When you finally pull away, both of you breathless, you find yourself caught in his gaze. It’s that look—the one that makes your heart race, the one that feels like he’s seeing straight into you. You smile, your heart fluttering a little more than it should.

“Maybe I do talk too much,” you tease, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smirks, his fingers tracing along the line of your jaw. “You can talk as much as you want... as long as it’s with me.”

The attempt to sound sweet and lovely is ruined by your incapability of staying serious; because how could you, when Drew’s fake beard is crooked and he’s got this silly red suit with the big belly on? 

“What now?” Drew murmurs, eyeing the silly grin on your face.

“I’m kissing Santa Claus,” you chuckle, reaching up to give his beard a playful tug.

He pauses for a moment, his eyes looking at you with a mischievous glint to them. 

“You naughty girl,” masked with a chuckle, a seductive tone is laced in his words, matching the smirk that’s hidden beneath the white beard. Drew leans in again, catching you in another kiss. 

This time, however, his hands start to roam around your body, feeling the material of your thick hoodie. 

His lips travel down your neck, kissing wherever is exposed. 

You let soft moans escape your mouth; the erotic feeling building in your lower stomach. With a hitched and breathless voice, you ask, “hey Drew?”

He lazily hums against your skin, hands resting just above your ass. 

“Wanna help me shower?” you whisper seductively into his ear, tugging the Santa hat off his head.

Drew pulls back slightly, an amused smile tugging at his lips as he looks down at you. “Y’know you don’t need to ask…”

You plant a kiss on his jaw, soft but deliberate, before moving away, your hand tugging at his sleeve as you make your way toward the bathroom. But Drew doesn’t follow, a thoughtful look painted all over him. 

“Stockings…” he murmurs, looking over his head at the fireplace, with the stockings that he needs to fill as ‘Santa Claus’.

You sigh, knowing exactly where this is going. After all, both of you are suckers for your son, always willing to put everything aside just to see his smile. You glance at Drew, trying to look annoyed, but the soft smile on your face betrays the affection you feel for him—and the family you’ve built together.

“Fine. I’ll shower alone,” you start, readjusting the fake beard he has on. “And I’ll leave Santa to his duties.”

“Thank you,” he sourly replies, his frown evident though the thick beard. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, your lips matching the expression he has. You pat his shoulder, before turning around, making your way to the bathroom. 

You make sure to add an extra sway to your hips, a lame attempt to convince Drew to ditch his costume and join you. 

But nope. Not even when you start stripping, leaving the door open for him to peek. 

——

The bathroom was thick with steam, the fog clouding the mirror as the water poured from the shower head.

You stand underneath the spray; getting ready to wash your body next. 

When you reach for the soap, a much larger hand takes hold of yours, stopping you. You glance over your shoulder, and sure enough, Drew, who presses his body close. 

“Hi,” you flirtatiously start, which comes out more hitched. 

Feeling the soft press of his tip against your back, the breathing gets much harder to steady. 

The temperature in here is definitely rising- not because of the shower. 

“You mad?” Drew’s voice comes out low, a soft smile on his lips as he turns you around to face him. 

You don’t miss the quick glance down to your tits; his gaze lingering longer there than it should be. 

You cock your head to the side, pretending to think it over, but the teasing glint in your eyes gives you away. His hands move to your waist, rubbing circles over your skin, his blue eyes searching yours for an answer.

Your lack of response serves as an invitation for Drew to start planting kisses along your neck, lingering longer on your sweet-spots. 

“Drew…” you softly moan, the thoughts forgotten as he starts sucking the skin on your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer than he already is. His hands find themselves traveling down your body, squeezing your waist, ass, thighs, anywhere he likes. 

“I like this,” he murmurs against your skin, as his hand squeezes your ass again. 

“Mhm,” you lazily hum, running your hands through his wet hair, feeling his aroused dick brushing against your pussy. Shit.

His hands hook under your thighs; lifting you up effortlessly. And because of all the times you've done this, you instinctively wrap your legs tightly around his waist, pinning you against the tiled wall. 

This position causes his dick to brush against your inner thigh; your tits brushing his chest. 

“I like….”

Leaning against the wall, your gaze locks with his hooded blue eyes, feeling the weight of his stare on your lips. “…the way you take me in.”

You chuckle at Drew’s attempt at talk dirty, something you’ll always find amusing throughout your marriage with him. Okay, you liked it, but who were you if you didn’t play along with it? “Well, show me how much you like it.”

A dorky grin Drew fails to suppress shows on his lips, his hands’ gripping tightly on your flesh. His eyes flash down look at the closed proximity you both are in; before quickly flickering back up. 

That makes the blood rush to your cheeks, a flush creeping over your skin. 

“Gonna-“ he leans in and catches your lips in a messy kiss, his teeth pulling on your bottom lip. “-fuck your brains out.”

You breathlessly giggle at that too, your eyes softly focused on Drew, a smitten look in them. 

Without another comment, Drew adjusts his hips, and you feel his cock slowly entering you. Glancing down, your breath hitches as he thrusts in; deeply nested inside. 

“Fuck,” you moan out, tilting your head to rest against the wall.

The showering water that flows down might as well serve as lubricant- yet your walls still feel tight.

Your eyes close for a moment; and you feel Drew’s lips on your neck again- kissing hard enough to leave hickeys. He eventually trails down, lips coming in contact with your breasts. 

He groans as your hands travel down his neck, before tightening around his shoulders. Your nails dig in, averting the pressure there. 

“Drew…” you whine, hoping he starts moving, your eyes flustering open. 

He pulls away, his mouth opened slightly with the same smitten look in his eyes. “…looking at you like this-“ he delivers a thrust to your core; the shock of it causing a loud moan to escape your lips. He chuckles at that, before finishing his words, “makes me wanna put another baby in you.”

“Shit,” you breathe out, as his hips start to roughly slam into yours; one of his hands coming up to play with your tits. The sensation of his thick cock thrusting into you is enough to blur out his words. 

Your body bounces with each rough push his hips drill into your pussy- matching the moans escaping your mouth. He grunts, the sound matching the rising heat in the room, each exhale thick with the intensity building between you.

“F-feels so good,” you mumble.

“Feels good, yeah?” He chuckles lowly, repeating your words. You watch as a grin tugs itself at the corner of his lips, his blue eyes staring lustfully into yours. “Buried with my cock- you look pretty, babe.”

His words, the fast pace, his hands roaming all over sends an alarm to your core, your orgasm building and threatening to explode. 

“Fuck,” you moan, your walls clenching around him as he readjusts you; allowing his dick to thrust into the familiarity of your g-spot. “I’m, c-close”

“Yeah?” Drew kisses the corner of your lips, his moves never stopping. “Right on my cock, baby.”

His lips catches yours again, kissing you clumsily and swallowing the soft sounds you produced. 

The knot in your stomach goes undone- and you feel the warm liquid erupting out of you, over Drew’s cock. You clench around him again, as he continues his pace to chase out his own high. 

His moves become sloppier, his lips pulling away as his dick twitches inside of you, his cream painting your walls white. 

“Shit,” he chuckles, slowly pulling out to leave the tip inside you, just to push fully back in again. 

You chuckle tiredly at that, as he shoves his cum deep into your cunt. “Oh, Drew…” your tone comes out almost like a whine, your throat going hoarse. 

You don’t even try to hide how limp your body is, muscles giving out on holding onto Drew. 

“My beautiful wife,” he almost purrs, blue eyes staring into yours in a smitten way that makes the butterflies in your stomach to fly widely loose. He sets you down on the floor slowly, helping you regain your balance. 

You let his warm hands brush away the hair sticking to the side of your face, the shower head pouring warm water over both of you.

You stand in silence, staring into each other's eyes, both trying to regain your composure from the intensity of the sex. 

“Love it when you talk dirty to me,” you suddenly say, your tone a mix of teasing and heat, a sly smile playing on your lips.

Drew catches onto that; his lips curving into a smirk. His hands slips back to your waist, settling there as if it belongs. “I’k what my girl likes.”

“Geez, what a man,” you tease, your breath catching as his fingers trace over your skin. “Knows what his girl wants.”

You lean in and kiss him briefly, yet pouring your emotions into it. He returns it; bringing one hand up to cup your face, angling it to allow access to his tongue. 

Fuck.

After six years of marriage, he can still easily turn you on like a switch—effortlessly, every damn time. 

You pull away, catching the fucked-out look in Drew’s eyes, the blue beaming down at you. “I’m sleepy,” you murmur, which was your meaning of ‘fuck me in bed, I’m tired’.

“‘Kay,” he murmurs, rubbing circles along your jaw, “let me, give you the princess treatment first, yeah?”

You snort at his words, as he reaches behind you to grab the soap. You don’t miss his low chuckle, even finding his own words funny. 

You relax, and let Drew give you the luxurious ‘princess treatment’, cleaning you up and ready for bed. 

——

Christmas morning

“Ben’s acting weird…”

You whisper to Drew, as you place the dishes into the sink. You spare subtle glances over at your son, sitting on the couch. 

His attention is fixed on the TV, his new toy in hand—opened first, his excitement obvious.

Drew leans against the counter, sipping on the third cup of coffee he made this morning. Last night, well, both of you didn’t get much sleep. He furrowed his eyebrows at you, before shrugging. “No?”

“Um, not to you,” you keep your voice low, standing next to Drew as you both watch the living room.

During breakfast, Ben had been shy, avoiding your gaze and giving short answers to your questions. But he seemed perfectly fine when you tucked him into bed yesterday. “Did I do something last night?”

Drew snickers, and when you glance at him, he casually unzips his jacket. With a smug grin, he reveals the hickeys you’d left on his neck last night. 

Shit. This man is a dad, and he can’t seem to be serious at all during times like this.

His grin escalates into laughter when you roll your eyes at him, pushing his shoulder lightly. “I’m serious. Ask him for me, will you?”

“Alright, alr- I’ll do it.”

Drew doesn’t move, taking another sip of his coffee. 

You send him a glare, along with aggressively zipping his jacket back up. 

“You mean now, got it,” he chuckles, putting the cup down. You shake your head at him, a smile reappearing on your lips as he walks away. 

You busy yourself by scrolling through your Insta, liking posts you don’t care about. The soft whispers you hear are barely audible, drowned out by the TV and the occasional rumble of Ben’s toy.

It’s about two minutes in when you hear Drew’s throaty laugh through the house, Ben hurriedly yelling, “daddy! Quiet!”

“You got anything to support that?” Drew’s voice comes through, his attempt at keeping quiet failing miserably.

You glance up just in time to see Ben jump off Drew’s lap, rushing toward his room.

Meeting Drew’s gaze, you raise an eyebrow, skeptical. You walk over and sit down beside him, waiting for an explanation.

“You’ll see. It’s hilarious,” Drew says with a grin, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. You give him a sideways glance, not buying it for a second. 

Ben runs back, his familiar blue eyes meeting yours for a split second before he quickly looks away.

“Wanna show Mommy what’s in your hand?” you chirp, your gaze landing on the toy camera you bought him a few months ago, now clutched tightly in his small hands.

He ignores you; walking straight into Drew’s arms. 

“Well that’s rude,” you murmur, but both father and son remain oblivious, their attention now fully on the toy camera.

As you try to sneak a peek, Drew leans away with a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying whatever he’s looking at. Ben, on the other hand, glances at it nervously, his small brow furrowing in worry. 

Your curiosity grows by the minute, heightening when Ben says, “is mommy in trouble?”

His big, doe blue eyes meets yours again, and he looks like a sad puppy (much like his dad sometimes). It melts your heart; again proving you could never be mad at this kid. 

His dad, on the other hand, you might choke him to death if he doesn’t explain what’s going on right now. 

“Why don’t you tell mommy?” Drew teases, his hand rubbing Ben’s stomach in an assuring way. 

You can see the thought process on Ben’s face, the pout deepening as he concentrates. His small brows furrow, eyes narrowing in serious contemplation.

Finally, Ben points his little finger at you, his voice loud and clear. “Mommy kissed Santa Claus!”

Your mouth drops open in shock as your mind races through the events of last night. Shit. You kissed Drew, who was dressed as Santa. Then the shower together- But how did Ben catch you? Was he out of bed? Did he—

Drew flips the small toy camera’s screen toward you, revealing a paused video. There’s no mistaking it: it's you, mid-kiss, with Drew in his Santa costume.

Oh. So this was his great plan of catching Santa Claus. A hidden camera.

Your face flushes as you look back at Drew, who’s struggling to suppress his laugh. You quickly cover your mouth, trying to hide the matching smile creeping onto your lips.

“Oh, Ben, honey,” you start, your voice sweet but a little flustered. His eyes glance up at you, eagerly awaiting your response. Relax, he’s only a five-year old kid. “Santa needed help with the presents…and mommy helped him.”

You flash a small smile, hoping he’ll understand. Ben looks up at you with a puzzled face, clearly not buying it. 

Dammit, five-year olds are getting too smart these days. 

“Don’t worry; mommy’s on the good girls’ list,” Drew adds on, clearly enjoying this. 

You shoot him a glare - really? “Ben, mommy would never kiss Santa,” you say firmly. “I was hugging him- see?”

“But you kiss daddy like that all the time,” Ben loudly comments, fidgeting nervously. 

A soft laugh leaves Drew’s mouth, absolutely no help to his situation. Great, just another reminder to yourself to maybe keep the affectionate touches to a minimum around Ben in the future.

“Okay,” you start, trying to steer the conversation back to safer waters. “Yes, Mommy and Daddy kiss sometimes, but Santa—he's just, well, he’s just here to deliver the gifts. That’s all.”

You glance at Drew, who’s still trying (and failing) to hide his grin. “Right, Drew?” you add, shooting him a look that says get it together.

“Right, right,” Drew says quickly, trying to sound serious. 

“So, Ben,” you turn your gaze back to your son, holding his tiny hand. Gosh, he’s adorable. “Santa's just doing his job to make Christmas magical. Okay?”

Ben nods slowly, his tiny face scrunching as he seems to take it all in. “Okay, mommy.”

You smile fondly at him, reaching your arms out.

He lets out a laugh that’s eerily similar to Drew’s, a lighter sound as he buries into your embrace. The sound of his laughter fills the room, bringing a sense of joy to your heart.

Somehow, with all its goofiness, it’s moments like this that make everything feel so right.

You press a kiss to the top of his head, as he snuggles against you, you can’t help but think—god, he’s basically a mini version of Joseph Andrew Starkey.

“Mommy loves you,” you say, as Ben pulls away. 

“I love you too, Mommy,” he mumbles, his voice soft but genuine. Like every kid, though, his attention span is short. His eyes drift over to the Christmas tree, where a few presents remain under the glittering lights. “Can I open the rest?”

You nod at him, and Ben takes off immediately, racing towards the Christmas tree. You can't help but smile as you watch him grab the first big present in front of him, tearing it apart. 

Although, your smile falters as your eyes drift back to Drew. He’s lounging on the couch, a lazy smile on his lips as he watches Ben, clearly amused.

Without thinking, you slap his stomach a bit roughly, causing him to flinch in his seat.

"Hey!" Drew protests quietly, his eyes widening in surprise as he looks at you. "What was that for?”

“Really? ‘Good girls’ list’?” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow at him.

He scoots himself closer to you, his smirk deepening, “you definitely took it like a good girl last night.”

Fuck. 

You freeze, his words hanging in the air, sending a shockwave through your chest.

"God, you're impossible,” you groan, slapping his hand away, the one trying to slip under your cardigan. 

Drew’s throaty laugh escapes again, wanting to further tease you when Ben interrupts the short conversation. 

He proudly shows off the present he got from ‘Santa’; a toy truck that he’s been begging for since forever. His small hands grip the toy truck, eyes wide with excitement.

The warmth of the moment radiates off you, and everything else fades away. Ben’s joy fills the room, and for a moment, it’s as if time stands still. 

The Christmas tree lights flicker softly in the background, casting a gentle glow, and the world outside feels distant, as if nothing else matters.

What a jolly merry Christmas. 

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

word count: 3.6k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: i want drew's kids. and i hate kids. but i want his.

be honest...this was shit writing, and im sorry about that. im in a writers block lately, my brain is officially on vacation mode. but merry christmas, and i hope you enjoyed this! ignore any mistakes, and read mistletoe if you havent ! (much better imo)

[reignpage]

Lying To Himself

Content: in which toji is left alone and how he deals with your temporary absence

You have to leave for two weeks, something about a mission in another city. Your boyfriend, Toji, swears it'll be okay, even insists that time will pass by in a blink of an eye. 

“‘m not a fucking child, ma. I’ll be fine. Just take care, yeah?”

And so, you peck him on his lips and wave goodbye before you get in the car. Then you’re disappearing in the distance. Toji shrugs, going back in feeling pretty excited to have the house to himself for two weeks — this has never happened before. As he sits on the couch, bottle of beer in one hand and tv remote on the other, he thinks about all the things he can do now.

The toilet seat can stay up, the bins will be full for longer, same goes for the dirty dishes in the sink, and he can watch whatever he wants; no more of those sappy romcoms with predictable plots and cheesy lines. 

“’s gonna be fun,” he mutters, a growing grin on his face. 

A couple days pass in relative silence, he stays out late, sleeps till noon and eats all the junk you’ve banned from the house. Toji cooks all the steak he wants and leaves the beer bottles to collect dust on the coffee table. And he accepts every invitation from his buddies to go out for drinks, watch basketball at the bar, and plays a couple games too.

He stays up all night, on the evenings he's not getting stupid drunk, playing videogames -- the violent ones you cringe at. During the day, he walks around the place in just his boxers, sometimes not even that, and it's liberating. All a man needs is to be free to balls naked in their own kitchen.

"You're not missing her at all?" Shiu asks, smoke blowing in his face as they stand in the back alley, leaning against the wall of the bar.

Toji snorts. "What am I? Five years old? I can last a couple weeks without being sappy."

His friend gives him a look, half of amused, half disbelieving and a hundred percent smug. None of them miss the death grip he has on his phone, the way his knee is bouncing, and how he isn't even looking at the hot chicks that sway their asses as they walk by.

It’s been great. Really fucking great. 

You haven’t been texting much. Sure, you check in here and there, letting him know you’re alright, you’re safe, and makings sure he’s watered your plants. However, there are rarely any opportunities for phone calls longer than five minutes, no FaceTime either, and sometimes he goes to sleep without a ‘goodnight’ from you. 

It’s fine. 

At least, he can sleep at whatever time he wants without you whining about needing cuddles.

More days pass just like that. 

And now he’s rarely leaving the house, finding his drunk friends boring, obnoxious loud, and suddenly he's realised they’re kinda fucking stupid. He starts to get sick of all the steak and fried chicken and takeaway, and instead he’ll text you for the recipe of your lasagne or that smoothie you make him in the morning that’s always greener than the last. 

His feet tap on the floor when you don’t reply straight away. And when his phone lights up, he practically dives for it and grips it tight in his palm, screen threatening to crack, when it’s not from you. 

“God fucking dammit, Shiu. Don’t fucking talk to me if it’s not important.”

The movies he’s been dying to watch are pretty shit. There’s no depth, no proper pacing, and the dialogue’s cheesy as fuck. Usually, you’d throw popcorn at the screen and complain about all those things, but he finds that he has to mutter them to himself for white noise. Even smirks when he thinks he got it exactly right, guessing what you’d say. 

“She’d totally find that shit stupid. And that blood looks fake. It’s like they didn’t even try.”

Most of the phone calls on his history log are from him, more reds than greens. What the fuck have they got you doing over there anyways? 

When you do reply to his ‘g’night’ and ‘hey, sleep well?’, he’ll have a go at you for taking so damn long. It’s just fucking ridiculous that you’re clearly sleeping well when he has to hit the gym and tire himself out to even get an hour of shut eye. Sometimes, he can’t even get any and he just paces the length of the living room waiting for a notification from you to pop up. 

“Fucking come on! Y'r phone better be dead or something.”

Toji hates having dinner on the table; the seat opposite him is empty, the placemat bare and he feels a freaky fucking soreness in his chest. When that happens, he never finishes his dinner. Must be a symptom of early heart disease. Gotta talk to the doctors about that. 

Eventually, you find time to speak to him for an hour, recounting all the crazy things you’ve seen and had to do. He doesn’t interrupt, he just grunts here and there, not even really listening but he urges you to keep talking when there’s a pause, like you’re unsure if you’re talking too much. And when you try to turn the conversation on him, asking about his day, he gives one word answers and then throws you another question. 

“Yeah?” He grunts. “What else? Speak up, ma. Wanna hear ya. D’ya go to that shop? Yeah? Y’ buy anything? Send me a picture.”

The guys at work know better than to open their fat mouths around him when he turns up with an extra wrinkle and a ticking in his jaw. Toji is somehow even more sadistic and violent and eager for blood. Even finally accepts their invitation to go out for drinks and drowns himself in the extra strong shit. Assuming he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, they don’t question his sour mood. 

But what they don’t know is that you texted to let him know you’re staying another week. 

Fucking texted. 

Didn’t even get to hear it from your own voice. 

He buries himself in more work and stays at the gym for even longer, pushing his body so far, his mind quiets down and he don’t gotta think about the fact that he’s started sleeping on your side of the bed, that the house is losing your scent, and that divot on the couch where you always sat has flattened out. 

The day comes, though, when you’re finally returning home. 

“Y’ sure? Not gonna flake again? Be fucking sure, ma. Alright, get back safe.”

Toji throws all the rubbish out, washes the dishes and dries them, double checks that the toilet seat is down, and he’s followed your recipe for beef stew to the letter — it’s cooking in the oven, and it looks fucking great. Even exfoliated in the shower like you’ve been asking him to, almost took off an entire layer of skin. He doesn’t want to admit he feels pretty fucking fresh. 

The door handle rattles. 

He sits up. And then stands. Walks over to the front door, arms crossing and then uncrossing. 

You’re here. 

“Hey, Toji—“

Your greeting is smothered in his chest as he threatens to suffocate you with the hardest bear hug in the whole world. And though he’d never hurt you, if you weren’t a sorcerer, you’d have been in big trouble. 

“Y’ hungry? Or y’ wanna shower first?”

His hands are all over you, lifting your chin to search your face for any scratches, even squishes your cheeks to be sure, and he’s patting you down for bruises or just to make sure all your limbs are intact. There’s a frown on his lips and it’s pretty darn cute. 

“Aw, Toji, baby. Did you miss me?”

“No.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re not a child, blah blah blah.”

Walking past him to take your shoes off, hang your coat and roll your suitcase to the side, you’re inhaling the air and moaning about the delicious food in the oven. Oh, God. You’ve been craving homemade food for so long now. You might actually die if you don’t eat. 

“Come here.” Your eyes dart to him, still standing by the doorway, fists clenching and unclenching. Toji looks furious. You look closer. No, he looks…embarrassed? “Said come here, ma.”

“Why?” You ask, head titling in curiosity and slight suspicion. 

He grunts. “What? I gotta spell it out for ya?”

Laughing, you tap your foot on the ground and retort back, “Yeah, you might because you need to have a good reason from keeping me from both a good shower and a warm meal.”

Toji rolls his eyes and stalks over to you, yanking you back to his chest so he can wrap his arms around you and keep you still. It’s much softer than before, but you feel the same sense of passion, something that verges on desperation.

It’s almost like…

No. 

It can’t be. 

Oh, but when you feel his face bury itself in your neck and you hear that long inhale, followed by a deep groan vibrating through his chest, you’re absolutely sure. 

Toji missed you. 

An overwhelming feeling of love fills you, so does a sense of victory, and you just hug him back, inhaling deeply too. He smells like home, like reluctant cuddles, pats on the ass, and early morning sex. You thought you’d have the most trouble in the two weeks, which turned into three, but as it turns out, he didn’t fare much better. 

Though he’d never admit it with his own mouth, his body betrays him.

Toji doesn’t let you get very far without a hand on you somehow, whether that’s a hand on your thigh as you eat dinner side by side, instead of across from each other, or you sitting on his lap as you watch the movie you want to watch. He even waits on the toilet lid as you shower, though that only lasts a couple minutes before he’s stripping and joining you. 

“Y’r not washing y’r hair right,” he tuts. 

Getting into bed is even worse because he’s practically lying on top of you the whole night, still sniffing your neck, and with his hands exploring your body. Not really in a sexual way, which is odd for him, but as if he just wants to feel you. He wants to feel your warmth, your softness, and reassure himself you’re home. 

Soon, he’s out cold and you mumble a goodnight against his forehead.

He wakes up feeling completely refreshed, like a newborn, stretching and grinning about getting ready with the day, and frowns when you’re still fast asleep. Part of him wants to make sure you’re getting your rest, but that part doesn’t win for very long and the much bigger part is shaking you awake.

“Come on, ma. Fucking bored here. Wake up, yeah? Let’s get some breakfast. Wanna talk to ya.” 

And when you do wake up, grumbling at how loud he’s being, he ignores the glares you’re giving and the swatting of his hands. Toji gives you a rare, wide, toothy smile and he says, 

“There’s my gorgeous girl. Good morning, baby.”

Yeah, this man totally missed you. 

[little-jana]

"Good Girl"

Pairing: postprison!Spencer Reid x reader

Genre: steamy, 18+, fluff, no smut

Warnings: kissing, Spencer calling reader a good girl

Words: 3.4k

Summary: Spencer giving Reader a lot of compliments and one of them makes her blush a lot.

Spencer had been different since prison. Not entirely in ways the team would notice—he still rattled off statistics, quoted obscure literature, and beat everyone at chess. But when you’d known someone as deeply as I knew Spencer, even subtle shifts felt monumental. He was sharper now, his edges honed by experiences no one should have endured. But when it was just the two of us, in those quiet, stolen moments, he softened.

That’s why I stayed by his side tonight instead of joining the team for drinks. Spencer had waved off the invitation, saying he needed a quiet night, and when I hesitated to leave him alone, he’d asked me to stay. It wasn’t much—a shared meal and a chess game in his small apartment—but to me, it felt like everything.

“I can’t tell if you’re planning your next move or plotting my demise,” Spencer said, leaning back in his chair as he watched me.

“I can do both,” I said lightly, though the truth was, I’d been staring at the board for so long because I had no idea what to do.

He smirked, tilting his head slightly. “You’re stalling.”

“I’m thinking,” I corrected.

“You’ve been ‘thinking’ for six minutes and thirty-two seconds.”

“Are you timing me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, but I glanced at the clock when you stopped moving your hand after your last turn.”

“Of course you did,” I muttered, my eyes flicking back to the board. “Not all of us have an IQ of 187, you know.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. The soft light from the lamp behind him highlighted the sharp planes of his face, and for a second, I forgot what we were talking about.

“You’re better than you think,” he said, his voice low.

“Better at chess, or better in general?” I quipped, trying to deflect the heat rising in my cheeks.

Spencer didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied me, his hazel eyes unblinking and intent.

“Both,” he said simply.

My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to focus. This was just Spencer being Spencer—kind and honest to a fault. It didn’t mean anything. Not really.

Finally, I made a move, sliding my bishop into place. I looked up at him triumphantly. “Your turn, genius.”

Spencer’s eyes flicked to the board, and he moved his queen with a casual grace that made my stomach sink. “Checkmate,” he said softly.

“What?” I leaned forward, scanning the board. He was right. Of course he was right.

“How?” I groaned, sitting back in my chair. “I was so careful!”

“That was a good game,” he said, his tone genuine. “You lasted longer than usual.”

I rolled my eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“No, really,” he insisted. “Your defense has improved. That last move was smart.”

“Then how did I still lose?”

His lips quirked into a smile. “Because I’ve been playing chess since I was four, and you’ve only been playing for—”

“Three months,” I finished for him.

“Exactly,” he said, his smile widening. “But you’re learning fast. Good girl.”

The words hit me like a freight train. My cheeks burned, and I ducked my head, pretending to fiddle with the edge of the table.

“Something wrong?” Spencer asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“No,” I said quickly, my voice higher than usual. “I’m fine.”

“You’re blushing,” he observed, tilting his head.

“I’m not,” I lied, even though I could feel the heat spreading down my neck.

His lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying,” I said weakly, avoiding his gaze.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his tone teasing now.

Desperate to change the subject, I stood and grabbed the empty takeout containers from the coffee table. “I’m going to clean this up.”

Spencer followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I tossed the containers into the trash. His presence was a tangible thing, and I could feel his eyes on me as I wiped down the counter.

“Good,” he said softly.

I turned to face him, confused. “Good what?”

“Good technique,” he said, nodding toward the counter.

My cheeks flamed again. “Are you just saying that to mess with me?”

“No,” he said, his expression softening. “I mean it. You’re good at a lot of things, but you never give yourself credit.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “I think you’re overestimating me,” I said quietly.

Spencer stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “No, I’m not,” he said firmly. “You’re smart, capable, and one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. You’re… amazing.”

My breath caught in my throat. The sincerity in his voice, the intensity in his eyes—it was overwhelming.

“Spencer…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against mine. The touch was so gentle, so careful, it made my chest ache. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

I shook my head slightly. “It’s not that… I just don’t see myself the way you do.”

His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly. “You should. Because I’m not wrong.”

The silence between us stretched, thick with unspoken words. I felt like I was standing on the edge of something, and for once, I wasn’t afraid to fall.

“You’re doing it again,” he said softly.

“Doing what?”

“Doubting yourself,” he said, his voice laced with a quiet kind of sadness.

I opened my mouth to argue, but the look on his face stopped me.

“You’re a good girl,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You just don’t know it yet.”

My cheeks burned, and I looked down, unable to meet his gaze.

“Hey,” he said gently, tilting my chin up with his finger. “Don’t hide from me.”

“I’m not hiding,” I whispered, though the words felt hollow.

“Yes, you are,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “And you don’t have to.”

Before I could overthink it, I stepped closer, closing the small distance between us. “Spencer…”

“Yes?”

I hesitated, my heart hammering in my chest. But then his eyes softened, and I knew. I knew he would catch me if I fell.

“I want to kiss you,” I said, my voice barely audible.

Spencer's lips curved into a small, surprised smile. “You do?”

I nodded, my cheeks flaming. “Is that… okay?”

His eyes softened, a mixture of surprise and something deeper—something that made my heart race. “It’s more than okay,” he said quietly.

I barely had time to process his words before his hand cupped my cheek, his fingers feather-light against my skin. He was so close now, his breath warm against my lips. For a moment, we just stood there, suspended in time.

And then he kissed me.

The world fell away.

It started soft, tentative—like he was afraid I’d disappear if he moved too quickly. His lips brushed against mine once, twice, each touch careful and reverent. It was everything I hadn’t dared to hope for: tender, consuming, perfect.

But then I leaned in, my fingers clutching at the front of his cardigan, and something shifted. The kiss deepened, and Spencer’s hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His other hand rested lightly on my waist, steadying me as my knees threatened to give out beneath me.

The softness gave way to something bolder, more urgent. His lips moved against mine with a fervor that left me breathless, and I couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped me. Spencer stilled for a fraction of a second, as if startled by the sound, but then his grip tightened ever so slightly, and I was lost all over again.

He tasted like peppermint tea and something uniquely Spencer, and I never wanted it to end.

When we finally pulled apart, I was dizzy, my head spinning in the best way possible. Spencer rested his forehead against mine, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

“That was…” He trailed off, his voice unsteady.

“Amazing,” I finished for him, my voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and intimate in the quiet of his apartment. “Yeah. Amazing.”

My cheeks flushed, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment—it was from the way he was looking at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted, his voice low.

“Really?” I asked, my heart swelling at the thought.

He nodded, a small, shy smile playing at his lips. “But I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

“Spencer,” I said, shaking my head with a soft laugh. “How could I not? You’re… you.”

His brow furrowed slightly, like he was trying to puzzle out my words. “I’m not always good at recognizing when people care about me,” he said quietly.

“Well, I care,” I said firmly, my hand still clutching the front of his cardigan. “A lot.”

He smiled then, a real, unguarded smile that made my chest ache in the best way. “I care about you too,” he said softly.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with unspoken promises, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.

Spencer’s hand slid from my waist to my hand, his fingers curling around mine. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

I looked away, flustered. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he said, tugging me closer. “You’re smart, kind, and strong. And you’re a good girl.”

There it was again, the phrase that sent my heart into overdrive. My cheeks burned, and I bit my lip, trying to suppress the shy smile threatening to break free.

“You really like saying that, don’t you?” I teased, though my voice came out softer than I intended.

“Only because it’s true,” he said, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at me—I couldn’t take it. I hid my face in his chest, my fingers curling into the fabric of his cardigan.

“You’re impossible,” I mumbled against him, though my tone lacked any real heat.

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he replied, his voice filled with gentle amusement.

I tilted my head up to look at him, narrowing my eyes in mock indignation. “You’re lucky I like you.”

His smile widened, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m the lucky one.”

---

After we settled onto the couch, Spencer pulled a blanket over us, his arm draped around my shoulders as I rested my head against his chest. The quiet hum of the world outside seemed so far away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Spencer?” I asked softly, my voice breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hmm?”

“This is real, right?” I tilted my head to look up at him, my eyes searching his face for any hint of hesitation.

He glanced down at me, his brows furrowing slightly. “Of course it’s real. Why would you think it’s not?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing. “It just feels… too good to be true.”

Spencer’s hand came up to cradle my face, his thumb brushing lightly over my cheek. “It’s real,” he said firmly. “I’m real. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, focusing instead on the warmth in his gaze. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he said softly, pressing another kiss to my forehead.

And in that moment, with his arms around me and his words echoing in my heart, I believed him.

[transmisogyny-explained]

[Image Text 1: “Typer Durden (@drdevonprice): in academia there's this very baseline feminist advice for a guy to never accept a panel invitation if there are no women on the panel. seems a lot of t boys & tme thems need to apply that principle to not taking any gig on ‘trans issues’that involves no trans women

“put simply if there are no trans women involved in the ~trans event~ or ~trans content creation~ you've been invited to do, you should refuse to participate in it.

“thanks @trans_peaks for reminding me of this connection” /End Image Text 1]

[Image Text 2: “‘As A Trans Man, Thanks For Being So Welcoming Of Trans Men; Weird That There's No Trans Women Here’ by Daniel Lavery:

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I overheard you guys talking about trans inclusion, and I mostly wanted to say, as a trans man who feels super welcome at this specifically women's-only event, I really appreciate it, and to thank you all on behalf of trans women for being so inclusive. I don't happen to see any trans women here at the moment, but I feel really welcome, and I assume those things are directly transferable. If I were a trans woman, and you all treated me the same way that you treat trans men - which I assume you do - I'd feel super welcome, just very relaxed and easy-going.” /End Image Text 2]

[ceilidho]

fear of god

There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 6 masterlist

-

The interior door slides open when Gaz pulls down the lever on his side, fitting into the recesses in the wall until there’s nothing between you. He’s the same and yet entirely different with nothing separating the two of you; more corporeal, undeniably flesh and blood. You can feel it now—the heat of another body in close proximity.

His stare penetrates you to the root, eyes so dark that you can’t look away. It’d be easy to get lost in them, like falling into a black hole, body stretching out into infinity, even the smallest subatomic parts of you torn apart. Expressive eyes, the kind you might look at and think that there’s someone behind them worth knowing. But the sharp angularity of the intelligence there makes your skin crawl. 

Farah finds her voice before you do. “Who are you?”

Gaz breaks his stare to glance at her, his frozen smile suddenly warming. “We haven’t met; I’m Gaz.”

When he holds out his gloved hand, Farah only looks at it instead of taking it, disbelief warring with her common sense. You wish you could hear the thoughts running through her head. 

“You can see him too?” you whisper to her.

Her head snaps in your direction, dark brows already furrowed. “Of course I can. What are you talking about?”

It’s perhaps impossible to explain without making yourself sound insane. More insane, in any case. But with the proof in front of you now, you can’t deny any longer that Gaz is real; that after days spent worrying about the state of your crumbling mental health, the very cause of your concern now stands before you, witnessed by someone else. You’d laugh if you didn’t feel faint. 

Because he is real—all six feet and two inches of him. Close enough to reach out your hand and touch. His skin looks buttery soft; if you were a foot closer, you’d almost be tempted to take his hand if only to see if your fingers would pass through.

Without warning, the intercom suddenly crackles to life again and a familiar voice blares from the speaker. “Panel secure. Headed back now.”

The sound of Nikolai’s voice sends a jolt of electricity up your spine. Even Gaz glances over his shoulder at the door and the vastness of space behind it. There’s nothing there, but his thickly accented voice asks for confirmation and you know it must be him, not a trick of the comms system. You stumble back until you hit the wall behind you.

“Kolya?” you hear Graves respond sharply, his voice still carrying through the ship over the intercom. “Shit, is that you? Do you hear me?”

“Черт побери. Yes, I hear you, mother hen,” Nikolai laughs in response. His laughter is a crisp, hollow sound over the intercom, like crackling blue electricity. “On my way back now. No need to pluck all your feathers out.”

His nonchalance is, frankly, unreasonable for the amount of time elapsed since he last checked in with the crew. 

A whole body comes into view this time, an astronaut waving to you through the window of the exterior door. Even from the other side, you can tell it’s Nikolai, the sheer size of him apparent. 

“Alhamdulillah,” Farah breathes, pulling the lever down for a second time to initiate the return sequence. 

Like deja vu, you watch as the first set of doors open and Nikolai slowly makes his way into the airlock one slow step at a time, the man looking no worse for wear. Beside you, Farah whispers something that you miss. The doors slide shut noiselessly behind him, and again you watch as a man in a spacesuit undergoes repressurization, the tensing of his shoulders making his discomfort with the process apparent. 

He already has his helmet off before the second door even opens. “Like I said, easy peasy. Can someone get me a coffee now?”

It’s almost too much for you to digest in such a short period of time, your emotions slingshotting between losing Nikolai and finding a strange man floating in the middle of space and then hearing the Russian man’s voice again like nothing happened. Lost time, or gained time. 

He must pick up on the way you and Farah simply gape at him in stunned silence.

“Something the matter?” Nikolai asks, a thick caterpillar eyebrow arched. A second later, he registers the other man in the hallway and grins. “Ah, you met Gaz. Nice guy, huh?”

“You know him?” Farah asks, her incredulity apparent.

“We met outside. I sent him in to get warm.”

You’re properly dumbfounded now, staring at Nikolai with abject disbelief for giving someone permission to board the ship without the commander’s permission. 

The footsteps of your commander and his second echo as they race down the hallway from the cockpit, the metal clunking under their boots. Louder and louder until they reach you, coming to a halt just a few feet away.

“Didn’t think I was gone that long,” Nikolai murmurs, stripping out of his spacesuit at the same time. Without a word, Farah helps him tuck it back into the storage locker he originally took it from. 

The two men stalk forward the remaining distance and when you look over at Graves, you can see the worry and relief writ large across his face, his attempts at concealing his emotions only partially successful. 

“What the fuck happened?” Graves barks, his expression stern until his eyes land on Gaz standing peacefully in the middle of the corridor, and then something shifts. A brief uncertainty clouding the pale blue of his eyes. “Who’s this?” 

Gaz lifts a gloved hand in greeting. “Name’s Gaz.”

“Found him outside wandering around,” Nikolai booms, slinging an arm over Gaz’s shoulders in an obvious show of fondness. “Poor bastard couldn’t find his crew.”

“Just wandering around in the middle of nowhere?” Graves asks, cocking a brow, skepticism thick in his words. 

Gaz smiles sheepishly. “It’s my fault. I got a bit turned around.”

Graves hums, mulling over the information. “…Turned around, huh?”

“Yes, sir. Looked away for a second and then my group was gone.”

“That doesn’t sound pleasant at all.”

“No, sir. Not at all.”

His deference is second to none. You could almost imagine yourself believing him, swept away by concern for his welfare. 

There’s a difference though. You’ve had the benefit of several days of acclimation. 

“Sir—commander,” you interject, swallowing when Graves turns his attention on you, the microexpression that flits across his face betraying his displeasure at being interrupted. “I’m sorry, but this makes no sense. I don’t see how…well, how he could have survived out on his own. I mean—” Your eyes flick towards Gaz. “I’m sorry, but none of this makes any sense to me.”

Graves’ lip curls up. "What doesn't make any sense?"

"Well, should we have brought him in? This just doesn't seem like protocol—"

“I don’t get your point, doctor. Should we have just left him out there to die? I thought you had that whole Hippocratic oath to uphold.”

None of this makes any sense to you. Apart from Farah, they’re being entirely too cavalier for happening upon a man in the middle of nowhere. There should be talk of heading back to Earth or quarantining him in the brig. 

“It’s not about that,” you croak. 

“I don’t understand you, doctor. You of all people should want to help.”

But he’s the man I’ve been seeing for days, you almost scream, but the blatant disapproval in Graves’ eyes makes you hold your tongue. You know your instincts aren’t wrong. Basic science isn’t wrong. Even if his spacesuit were able to provide basic environmental protection and life support, the longest a human might be able to survive after becoming untethered from their ship would be just under nine hours. 

You don’t know why this isn’t registering as strange to any of them. They act as though there’s nothing at all unusual about a man floating in space without any spacecraft within fifty million miles of him. As if this were just something that happened from time to time, and not an unprecedented anomaly. 

“Well, you could probably do with some shut eye after your trip, I reckon,” Graves says, clamping a hand down on Gaz’s shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “We have a spare bunk near mine—bit cramped, but I’m sure you’ll make do.”

Gaz tips his head in thanks. “I’d appreciate it.”

“And—sorry, forgot to ask, but are you good? Not feeling faint or sick or anything? I know our doctor’s a little prickly, but whatever you need, she can help with.”

The weight of Gaz’s gaze makes your body feel leaden. 

“All good for now,” he says, still smiling serenely. His stare never wavers, smile never dips. “But don’t worry, love. I’ll come find you when I need you.”

Nikolai’s arm drops from his shoulder and Graves leads him off down the corridor to recuperate in his new room. The scream is buried in your throat; if you try to cough it up, only blood and mucus will come out. 

You can only watch helplessly as they walk away, Farah gone by the time you remember to look for her. 

After that, hours pass by without any sight of the man who recently boarded your ship. You don’t see much of anyone in fact. Hadir eats lunch around the same time as you, but his conversation is oddly circulatory, muddled, like he can’t keep his thoughts straight. He mentions the same thing twice and doesn’t seem concerned when you politely remind him that he already told you. He also doesn’t seem to register your words when you tentatively broach the subject of Gaz’s sudden appearance. 

Hadir shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. “Better for us anyway. Could be nice to have another warm body around here.”

“Don’t you…don’t you remember what I told you the other day?” you prod, pushing your potatoes around with your fork, your stomach in knots. “When I told you I saw someone outside?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s who I was talking about,” you whisper, as if concerned about being overheard. “I saw Gaz out there. He must have been out there…for days at least.”

“Ah,” he says, mildly contemplative. “Funny, that.”

The conversation feels like a dead end because it is, and you abandon it not long after when you realize that though Hadir is responding to your words, he doesn’t seem to be understanding them. It’s like you’re talking to an automaton, something designed to give you a response but not engage like a human would.

Even that thought seems wrong somehow. You shouldn’t be thinking those kinds of things about your coworkers. 

Back in the medical unit, you pick up the stool that fell to the ground on your way out earlier and take a seat, sipping periodically at the ice cold coffee still sitting on the table. Your mind goes blank for some time. Different than earlier though—not the blankness of concern and paranoia, but the blankness of complete stupefaction. 

It gives you some time to think, but no matter how many times you run through the events of the day in your mind, you keep coming back to the same questions. The same questions with no answers. 

Appetite a no show, you figure it’s better to just retire to your quarters for the evening. 

In bed, you read the same paragraph of your book three times before it sinks in. You can’t concentrate on anything. The same phrase on a loop, your real thoughts swarming like locusts and drowning out the narrator in your head. 

A knock at your door startles you, accidentally making you crinkle a page of your book with your thumb. You bite back a curse, smoothing the page out and calling out a frustrated one second when the person on the other side of your door knocks again. Impatient much. 

You open the door, expecting to find Graves or Nikolai on the other side, only for you to balk when you’re met with the sight of Gaz towering over you, his forearm braced against the doorframe. 

“Hi,” he says after a beat of silence. 

“…Are you lost?” you ask suspiciously. 

“No. Thought I’d stop by before I turn in for the night.”

Something occurs to you the longer you stand so close to him. It’s been lingering in the back of your mind since the interior doors to the airlock slid open and he boarded the ship, a thought hidden under its own afterbirth, placenta and membranous fluid soaking the ground beneath it. A thought that, to this point, has escaped your notice, hiding away like a prey animal. 

And it’s that: Gaz doesn’t have a smell. When you inhale, he doesn’t smell like anything you’ve ever smelt before. No lingering traces of body odour or sweat or soap. You breathe in and it’s like you’re standing in front of an empty doorway staring out into the empty hallway. 

But he does have a scent. 

It doesn’t register to your nose, not a scent that your olfactory senses can detect. Nothing like that. Instead it hits you like a memory, like a feeling blooming in your chest. Palo santo and orange blossom; the sound of a tennis ball hitting a racket; an aerial view of an Olympic pool and someone swimming laps, their body stark against the blue; white florals and a masculine voice laughing. 

His scent is a delicious rush of wonder and elation, a dopamine spike. You crane your neck to meet his eyes and honestly you’d forgotten how beautiful he is. An Adonis; over six foot and body corded with muscle. Lean waist and wide shoulders. The most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, sculpted from something divine, a substance not found on Earth but in a more heavenly realm. 

You rock forward on your heels, pulled like a magnet towards his lips. His lips gently part, anticipating yours before they’ve even met.

Your hand hits the wall and reality comes back to you. Solid metal under your feet and an aluminum composite under your hand. White, sterile walls. In the hallway, the lights dim as the night cycle commences. You have to physically shake your head to rid your mind of any thoughts of Earth. It’s still there though, on the periphery of your senses; a dream world that you might get lost in if you were to look for too long.  

Something is very wrong. 

You rest back on your heels and move your hand until it hovers over the button to close your door. 

“Unless you’re sick, I can’t help you.”

“I’m not sick, love.”

“Then what do you want?” you bite out, overtly hostile now. 

He smiles but he doesn’t blink. Then his eyes flick up, studying the room behind you, his gaze roving over the walls and furniture, scrutinizing your space. Examining the clothes strewn over your bed, the little knick knacks and oddities that make your room yours. 

“Just wanted to see what it looked like from the inside,” Gaz finally says, and your blood goes cold. 

With that, he pulls his forearm off the doorframe and straightens to full height. 

He makes it a few feet away from your door before turning around to look back at you. “Night, love. See you in the morning.”

[goqmir]

cis people reading this post, you should understand two things:

1) if you think you are being kind and have a good relationship with a trans person, and you misgender them or deadname them once or more every time you see them, you are not being kind, and you probably don't have as good of a relationship as you think.

why? because misgendering and deadnaming fucking hurts. it actually hurts more than you can comprehend. it hurts like hell. it hurts like you just got stabbed for real and i'm not joking and it never ever feels better.

so answer me this: if you wanted to hang out with someone you love, and every time you did so they stabbed you once or twice with a big sharp knife and it hurt like fucking hell and left a lasting wound on you, would you still go hang out with that person regularly? if not, why do you feel entitled that the trans person you have this relationship should come visit you, knowing that possibly more than once you'll deadname or misgender them? why are you putting a knife to their throat?

2) you actually, inherently, need to put in more effort about the little parts of speech, such as pronouns, names, and gendering words and phrases, when talking to a transgender person rather than a cisgender person. it's actually more effort. you need to take the time when talking to make sure you phrase things correctly so you aren't misgendering them or deadnaming them. because, as we've established, and even though it might be a simple mistake to you, it hurts like hell to them, like a knife entering their body.

cisgender people do not have this problem, so it's somewhat harder to hurt them in casual conversation by mixing up a pronoun (which is a common mistake when talking without thinking too much for anyone!). when talking to a trans person, you need to think about your words. every cis person i've ever met not only doesn't understand this, but feels entitled to not having to pay any more attention to gendering me correctly than any cis person. and that doesn't work, because cis people don't get stabbed by simple words that are easy to mix up. you gotta talk slower and more thoughtfully until gendering this person right is second nature and if you don't you will hurt them and they'll bleed and it will be entirely your fault.

trans people are not weak because they can be hurt by your carelessness-- rather, you are cruel for hurting them for it. and the only way to not hurt them is to stop and take a second to think about what you'll say before you say it to them. but no cis person i've ever met understands this. maybe you could be the first?

sometimes i see cis people say "trans people will understand if you misgender them at first. i call my nephew 'her' all the time and he knows i don't mean it" no he doesnt. he probably never hangs out with you for more than ten minutes because that's how long you can last in a conversation before making him feel like shit. also he thinks you're, best case scenario, stupid for not being able to figure it out, or worst case scenario, uncaring about him and his needs. he doesn't like spending time with you. you're deluding yourself into thinking you're far kinder than you are. you're weird man.

[gravegoer]

DADS FRIEND SEVIKA.... need her... sneaking around w her and stuff , possibly hcs

Secrets 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

i keep saying this but this is one of my favorite tropes... your age gap with her i tried to make somewhat reasonable so its not too extreme, and NOT ILLEGAL , and yes this is hcs kinda i guess. summary: sevika is your dads best friend, and your secret gf...

masterlist , mild nsfw

Sevika never had feelings for you up until the day you got back from collage. You seem to have matured more, at least in her eyes. But to your dad, you were still his little girl.

That's why she felt guilty for the thoughts she was starting to harbor for you. She supressed them as much as she physically could, but the way you looked at her and interacted with her made it near impossible.

The way you brought her water when she was all sweaty and dirty from helping your dad work on his car, your soft eyes meeting hers with a smile on your lips. It was so innocent yet you were drawing her in perfectly.

When you sat on the counter of the kitchen, engaging in conversation with her and your father she eyed the way your plush thighs contrasted against the marble.

You knew she liked you, and you felt the same way, for a long time actually, even when she didnt spare you a glance.

So you made sure to hug her a little tighter, and a little longer before she left. Looking up at her through your eyelashes, and delivering an innocent peck on the cheek.

At family gatherings you would let her pull out your chair for you, making sure she noticed the curve of your ass as you sat down.

Finally, she had enough.

When you were helping her bring boxes into the attic you had your back almost flush to her as you bent over to set down a large box.

"You know what you're doing"

Sevika grunted, pulling you into her warmth and slamming her lips into yours. She wasn't surprised in the slightest when you didn't bother retaliating and pulled her in closer.

The only thing that was holding her back is the scorn of your family. What would they think?

But it obviously wasn't holding her back, as for the next few weeks before you could speak to her in private again, she was always shooting you small glances and smirks.

And of course, you always returned them, brushing a hand down her toned arm when your dad wasn't looking, then switching to a firm pat when he turned around.

About three weeks later was the first time you guys could converse (kind of) privately, away from the rest of your family. She had told your father that she wanted to take you out on a 'girls' night.'

You knew better.

Your face flushed red when she asked right in front of you, knowing your dad would happily agree, overjoyed that his best friend and daughter were spending more time together.

To your surprise, she did take you out, on a nice dinner. You talked for a long time about your feelings for each other, it was mostly Sevika nodding and grunting in agreement. (Sometimes face palming at your eagerness.)

She took you to her home, more specifically, her room. She showed you what you were missing out on in college.

Sevika's hands are definitely more experienced than the women you were with previously, her calloused palms circling your hips and tracing your inner thighs.

You rode her thick thigh as she pressed a finger to your clit, cooing into your ear. She helped you ride out your orgasm until your head was resting on her shoulder, eyes slipping closed.

Sevika pushed your head back.

"Have to get you home at the curfew your dad set, yeah?"

You groaned, remembering your dad wanted you back by 11 PM for dinner. Your whole body protested as she lifted you from your position, helping clothe you.

You felt like a newborn deer, just learning how to walk, as you limped to the bathroom to freshen up.

When you finished, you came back to Sevika on the edge of the bed, her legs spread, and a cigarillo between her scarred lips.

You almost jumped into her lap at the sight before she got up, putting a hand on your waist to lead you to the door.

When you got home, you headed straight to your room, unable to look your dad in the eyes so soon. You could hear his and Sevikas' conversation.

"Yep, took good care of her alright."

From then on you both vowed to never let your family find out, not anytime soon anyway.

When nobody was looking, she would deliver a smack to your butt, but you were unable to do anything when she immediately delved into conversation with your father.

Sometimes, she slept over if she stayed a little too late, and you would visit her in the guest bedroom, trying your best to stay quiet. (Her hand is always over your mouth)

She slings her arm around your shoulder, and nobody thinks anything of it, but you see her small smirk.

When Sevika's fixing your sink, you sit on the counter above her while she lays on her back on the floor, reaching up to fiddle with the pipes. You can't see her upper half, but what you can see is her V line peeking out from under her shirt.

If she saw you bringing any friends over, she would raise an eyebrow before you reassured her with a wave and smile.

But she would still hover around the door of your room to make sure.

Your father trusts you going over to her home, so you linger there often, a lot of your clothes and other items litter her bedroom and bathroom

She appreciates the constant reminder of you.

kinda short??

taglist: @thequeenreaders @hangezoes-wife @thesecondhandwoman @slut4sevika @archangeldyke-all @kylorey25 @sylencr @jinxjinxjinx12 @morphids @aizawasbaeee @ariya13 @tiyawnyana @n39ro-chann

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Champagne Problems

♥ masterlist | request rules | 12 days of ficmas

♥ pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

♥ synopsis: the two of you end up at a party with different intentions

♥ wc: 2k - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing, angst, and alcohol (drink responsibly please lol) !!!

♥ a/n: TONS of angst in this fic so get ready lol <3 i've been wanting to put out this fic for SO long you don't understand. tagging bestie @theonottsbxtch

Charles was head over heels in love with you—it was a shame, really.

You sat on your shared king sized bed in a sparkly dress, observing your boyfriend as he slipped on a gold watch. 

“We need to leave soon mon amour,” he said, wandering over to you and kissing your cheek. “We don’t want to be late, do we?”

You nodded and adjusted the jewelry on your hand.

Charles folded the cuffs on his sleeve, “You alright?”

“Mhm,” you nodded with a fake smile.

You hadn’t seen Charles in months because of his work. Ironically the first place he wanted to take you was a gala... For his work.

The two of you met because of your love for F1. The narrative of Ferrari brought you together and despite his promises to be there for you, he always left them unfulfilled.

You were alone. Way too often. Left by yourself to take care of Leo and be his wag.

You and Charles wandered outside the apartment to his car. He opened the door for you—like a gentleman. But you couldn’t shake this melancholic feeling whenever you’re around him.

-

”Hey, where’s Charles?” Arthur, your boyfriend’s younger brother asked with a smile.

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink, and gazing at the room full of talkative people. The second you got there he wandered off to find Pierre. You couldn’t even blame him. This was for business after all.

”Hm, that’s odd. I’d expect him to be with you.” he scrunched his nose. “I remember one time last year—he was so excited to come home for winter break and see you. He would talk about you all day to me on the phone,” Arthur chuckled.

You gave him a faint smile. That was the Charles you fell in love with. Alas, he was across the room talking to someone else’s girlfriend.

“Well, let me know if you see him. I’ll see you in a few weeks for Christmas, yeah?”

You swallowed hard, pausing before a response.

“Yeah, yeah of course,” you smiled with a nod.

“Great, Maman said she already got you gifts,” he laughed. “I’ll see you around Y/n.”

He nudged your shoulder with an infectious smile, wandering off with a drink in hand.

God, why did this have to hurt so fucking much.

-

“Thank you all for being here,” a man said into a microphone, commanding the room to silence. “It has been an incredible season, but now we must start planning for the next one. Thank you to all our sponsors who are able to make this happen and congratulations to all that we have done this year.”

He raised his glass of champagne, leading everyone to follow and clink theirs together. You sat at a round table with your closest friends from the industry, Pierre and Kika as Charles got up to ask the man at the front of the room something. He came back with the microphone in hand and turned it on.

He stared down at you, eyes peering lovingly into your soul.

“Y/n… you are the most beautiful, kind, intelligent woman I have ever met,” he spoke into the mic, elicting a few ‘awh’s’ from the crowd and drawing at least a hundred eyes to you.

Charles slowly bent down, grabbing something out of his suit pocket.

Your eyes widened and you tried to say something but you couldn’t. Every word was trapped in your mouth, despite your jaw being on the floor. Plenty of gasps and whispers came from the room. You could see Kika’s eyes light up, clearly ecstatic for you.

“I don’t really have a whole speech planned,” he laughed softly. “All I can really say is how much I love you… Will you marry me?”

He flicked the ring box open, revealing a gold ring with a huge diamond.

You paused, trying your best to take in everything that has happened before shaking your head.

“Charles… can we talk about this somewhere else?” you whispered.

Charles' expression dropped instantly. He knows what that really means.

More gasps. More gossip.

Clearly the whole room knew what it meant too.

“Is she fucked in the head?” you heard someone from the crowd whisper.

Followed by, “If she won’t marry him I will,” and “What a shame.”

”I’m sorry Charles, I’m gonna get a Lyft.” you whispered, squeezing his hand.

Kika looked at Pierre completely stunned. This was certainly not how the two of them thought the night was going to go. This was certainly not how you thought the night was going to go.

Kika’s heels clicked on the tile floor as she ran after you, pushing the two glass doors open to find you sprinting down the long set of stairs.

“Y/n, wait!” she shouted after you.

You sat at the bottom step, waiting for your ride to arrive.

She stopped beside you, “I can drive you home,” she mumbled.

“That’s alright, I already paid for it.”

She sat down beside you and put a warm hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

You grabbed her hand gently, feeling the coldness of her gold rings. You shook your head no.

She wrapped an arm around your shoulder, forcing your head to rest on her shoulder.

She kissed your head sweetly, “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered in your hair.

-

You tossed your things on a table right next to the front door and kicked off your heels. You strut over to your kitchen and opened the fridge in hopes to find more alcohol. You were already probably drunk on Dom Perignon and your own tears, but with everything going on you might as well try to forget the horrendous night.

You grabbed a small glass from a cabinet and closed the fridge door, flinching when you saw Charles standing in the dark.

“Jesus Christ, Charles…” you whispered, pouring yourself some straight Vodka.

You braced your hands on the side of the marble counter, closing your eyes. Maybe if you close them tight enough he’ll disappear.

You sighed, “I don’t know how to start this conversa-“

“You said no?” he whispered. You could hear the heartbreak in his words.

You swallowed hard, looked around the room—anywhere but his eyes.

“I never said no…” you trailed off.

“But you meant no, right?”

You thought about marrying him before. A lot, actually. Racing, Traveling, Family. But there was always one thing missing from every daydream. And that thing was Charles.

You can’t follow him around the country for his job and even if you did—is that who you wanted to be? Just the wife of Charles Leclerc? 

“I don’t think you can truly be committed to this relationship. This isn’t what I need, and that’s okay.”

“I can't truly be committed?” he scoffed. “I'm not truly committed enough to get down on one knee?” 

Your relationship this past year wasn’t what you wanted. But one day it will be what someone else wants, and that’s what he deserves.

“C’mon Y/n, I love you-“ he muttered.

“Love isn't always enough,” you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

Ah, the painful truth.

You watched as his face dropped, fully taking in the cruelness of your words. 

“Charles, I’m sorry…” you whispered, tears forming in your eyes. 

“Just go. Foutez le champ de chez moi, I don’t want to see you right now.” (translation: get the fuck out of my house) he muttered harshly. 

-

It’d been a year since you last saw him. That night you packed up all your things as he slept at Arthur’s. You were gone by the time he got home.

You still spent time in the F1 scene. You had friends there too, but it still felt a little cruel. You didn’t fall out of love, at least not with someone like Charles—that doesn’t happen. 

If the circumstances were different you might have been married. You would’ve had a beautiful ring, a beautiful family, and a beautiful man. 

“Y/n,” Kika shouted through a laugh, half sprinting in her heels. Her right hand settled on your bicep and her left took your forearm, yanking you towards a group of women. 

“C’mon, I haven't seen you in months,” she said, causing you to crack a smile. You rolled your eyes and slipped off your bar stool, ready to get a little tipsy with your friends. She was right. It had been way too long since you had a girls night. The last one was before you lost your status as a wag. 

Today it was you, Kika, and Rebecca—all in elegant outfits that perfectly fit your vibes. Kika in a black long sleeve, off the shoulder neckline number, Becs in a sparkly red one that she luckily got to keep after modeling, and you in a short white satin dress with spaghetti straps and some matching white heels. 

“You look like you need a drink,” Rebecca said, looking you up and down. 

You sighed, “I haven’t been to an F1 event since you know…” 

She rolled her eyes, “That's exactly why you need a drink. Forget about him and have fun with us. Your favorite sport should not be attached to the memory of a man.” 

Great point. 

“Come here,” she dragged you back to the bar Kika pulled you from. 

She ordered three martini’s on the rocks, extra olives.

She handed you one of the glasses, “We’re going to meet up with Lily M and Carmen in about an hour alright? We’ll be out of this place in no time and you won’t even think about you know who.” 

“Where are we going?” you asked, sipping the drink with your eyebrows raised. 

“It's a surprise,” Kika said with an eye roll as if to say “duh”. 

You spent the next hour drowning in new conversations and shots. Sure you were at someone’s work party, but it’s not like you had to be professional. No one seemed to give a shit what Charles’ “Ex Wag” was doing.

“Carmen and Lily are outside, are we ready to go?” Rebecca asked, peering up from her phone. 

“Yeah, I just need to find the bathroom and then we can go,” you lied, grabbing your clutch off the circular table. 

You wanted to step outside and get a quick bit of fresh air before you returned to the group. They were doing something amazing in order for you to move on from your past relationship, but all you could think about was something you shouldn’t be. 

It's been a year, you should be over him, right? Too bad the pain didn’t stop at Charles. It was his whole family. God, you missed Arthur so much. You missed fighting with him about what Christmas movies to watch and hanging out in the Ferrari garage together. You missed Lorenzo and his older brother-like wisdom. You missed Pascale and how she welcomed you with open arms into the family. Fuck, you felt like a traitor. 

You sighed and wandered off onto the balcony, picking at the rhinestones on your purse. You leaned over the railing, letting the cool wind kiss your skin. 

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” an accented voice said from behind you. You would recognize it anywhere. 

Charles took his place beside you, avoiding eye contact. It took a good minute before you were able to respond. 

“I- uhm… I heard you and your new girlfriend broke up. I'm sorry,” you muttered. What an odd way to start this conversation. You weren’t even sure if it was true, you heard it in a tabloid. 

He hummed, “I suppose love wasn’t enough to save us.” 

Ouch. 

You scoffed, “Yeah I guess not.” 

The silence was loud. 

“Sorry,” he whispered in a change of tone. Maybe even a change of heart. “It’s good to see you again.” 

“Yeah,” you whispered back, unenthusiastic. 

“The family misses you.” 

You smiled slightly. That was good to hear. “You can tell them I miss them too.” 

“...I miss you.” 

He placed his hand on top of yours slowly, gently rubbing his thumb across yours. His cold silver rings brought flashbacks to your mind.

You looked up at him, tears begging to fall from your lashes but you kept it together; at least until he was gone. 

You squeezed his hand like you used to, “‘l’ll see you around, Charles.” 

You had to remind yourself why you said no everyday. It didn’t matter if you loved him and it didn’t matter if he loved you. You won’t settle for second in his life.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

taglist; @sainzzreputaticn @theseerbetweenus @yawn-zi

[tyrantchimera]

What is fine and/or expected in fandom:

Print out the fanfic you like. Save it to your computer. Show your friends. Do whatever your like for your private, personal use. But please comment your appreciation for it. Fandom is a community, and support is extremely helpful (and considering the efforts we put into works, it should perhaps be considered proper courteousness).

Share the fic. Give people links TO THE ORIGINAL. DO NOT repost it. NEVER. Not unless you were given specific permission to do so, or if all copies of that fic have been removed and the artist is LITERALLY DEAD. If you wanna discuss it with friends, maybe do so where the author can see, or encourage your friends to comment too?? So we know we're not talking to a brick wall?

You may make a physical book of the story. Put it in a binder. Make art of it. But NEVER profit off of it. No selling those books. No making money off mass-produced fanart of fanfics (unless the author themself commissioned the work/collaborated with you). We aren't some corporation that has already made money from the franchise, we are individuals that are LEGALLY OBLIGATED to keep our works free under fair rights use. So it is NOT fair and VERY NOT COOL if you make money off our works when we can't.

NEVER take credit for writing a story that you didn't. NEVER make the claim that you wrote or drew something that someone else worked hard on. You will only discourage the actual writers and artists from making things (who may see your bullshit and decide that if you're gonna be like that, maybe NO ONE deserves to see their work because Fuck This, I'm DONE with having my work stolen).

NEVER demand an author do something a certain way. We are not AI, we are not corporate content producers. We are giving you a gift. Do not be an ass and demand a different one. If you feel so strongly about it? Go do it yourself.

ALWAYS feel free to archive things. You never know what will be lost, or when. People die, databases corrupt, sites go down, fascist purges win, and so on. If you like it, keep it safe. No permission needed.

I've never been explicit about this because I'm a Fandom Old, and back in the day it was simply understood that anything on the Internet was fair game to do with what you wish, but: if you see a story of mine out there and you like it, download it. Fuck if I care. Keep it for yourself, distribute it to friends, print copies for yourself and your friends, mail it to people, I don't give a shit. As long as you're not exchanging money, I couldn't care less. And tbh you should be doing this with all fanfics you love - print them, save them, put them on a flash drive or a hard drive or share them with friends, whatever. Fanfic authors these days are really fucking precious about their fics, but honestly we're probably going to start seeing queer art being disappeared (especially in the US under the next president) so do whatever you can to archive the things you love to read. Even if that means just printing them out and sticking them in a binder for yourself to read as a bedtime story.

[wolvietxt]

I just read some of your Logan fics 🫠🤭🤤 absolutely in LOVE! i had to follow and request 😭 could you maybe do the age gap prompt with Logan “you’re more than enough for me.” ? You don’t have to but oh my god I am in love with ur work ❤️

YOU weren’t usually one to let comments get under your skin, but tonight was different. it started as a passing remark during the group’s card game, someone laughingly pointing out the age gap between you and logan.

“didn’t know logan liked ‘em fresh outta college,” they teased, nudging him with an elbow.

logan shot them a glare sharp enough to silence a room, but the damage was done. you forced a laugh, brushing it off like it was nothing, even though your stomach churned with unease.

as the night went on, the comment replayed in your mind, growing louder with each repetition. sure, you were younger, but it wasn’t like you didn’t know what you wanted. still, the words planted seeds of doubt - maybe they were right. maybe logan deserved someone more experienced, someone who matched his gruff confidence in a way you sometimes felt you couldn’t.

logan seemed to notice your shift, his sharp eyes narrowing when you grew quieter, your laughter a little more forced. eventually, he leaned close, his voice low. “hey. you good?”

“yeah, just tired,” you said quickly, plastering on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

he didn’t buy it. you could tell by the way his jaw tightened and the way he didn’t take his eyes off you for the rest of the night. finally, when there was a lull in conversation, he stood and nodded toward the hallway. “c’mon. need a word.”

you followed him, your heart racing as he led you to the quiet of the hallway. he stopped and turned to face you, his hands on his hips, his gaze piercing.

“what’s goin’ on?” he asked, his tone softer now, his brows drawing together in concern.

“nothing,” you lied, crossing your arms defensively. “i told you, i’m just tired.”

logan let out a soft huff, stepping closer until he was in your space. “don’t pull that with me,” he murmured, his hands coming up to cup your face gently. “you’ve been off ever since that crack about your age. talk to me.”

his touch was grounding, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. you sighed, your shoulders slumping. “it’s stupid,” you muttered. “it just… it made me feel like maybe you could do better. like maybe they’re right and i’m too young, or - or not enough for you.”

logan’s expression darkened - not in anger, but in something deeper, more protective. his thumbs stilled against your skin, his grip firm but tender as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “don’t you ever think that,” he said, his tone heavy with conviction. “you’re more than enough for me, darlin’. never doubt that.”

your breath hitched at the intensity in his gaze, his words wrapping around the insecurities gnawing at you and crushing them under their weight. “logan…” you started, but he cut you off, his forehead resting against yours.

“listen to me,” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. “i don’t give a damn what anyone says. you’re all i want, and i’d go through hell and back to make sure you know that.”

a lump formed in your throat, your heart swelling as his words sunk in. you reached up, your hands covering his where they cradled your face. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly.

logan’s lips quirked into a faint smile, his fingers tilting your chin up as he kissed you. it was slow and deliberate, a kiss that spoke of reassurance and devotion, his lips moving against yours with a gentleness that made your chest ache.

when he pulled back, he kept you close, his hands still framing your face. “next time someone runs their mouth, let me deal with ‘em,” he said, his voice lightening with a touch of his usual gruff humor. “they’ll think twice after that.”

you laughed softly, the knot of doubt inside you unraveling completely. “i’ll hold you to that.”

“damn right, you will,” he said, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before tugging you into his arms.

ᰔ logan howlett : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen

@lemoanaid, @correnz, @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @ohmystvrk, @y08h

@lovely-liliacs, @california-boys-and-sun, @omen-keke, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd

@superlegend216, @mikaaki, @withasideofmeg, @samfunko, @aaronhotchnerlover

@qxuanii, @m1cky-y-y, @uncertified-doc, @cryingwta, @pvndomi

@marvelescvpe, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @misscrissfemmefatale, @ltristessedureratoujours, @meadow-field

@hazydespair, @stupid-little-birdie, @aoi_targaryen, @urlocallocachica, @person-005

@christinamadsen, @zaggprincess2, @lokixryss, @mehjustalasshere, @spktrlvr

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[starboye]

pairing: jacob elordi x male reader x tom holland

request: I'm a manwhore for Jacob Elordi and Tom Holland being possessive over male reader whenever he talks to another guy whether he's just being friendly in general and the two of them just fuck and tease male reader whenever they get a chance and male reader calling them daddy(btw love your work!)

warnings: smut, rough sex, fingering, teasing, face fucking, cum eating, daddy kink

you were just chatting it up with some other actor at an event, you weren't even all touchy with them like jacob says but somehow just talking to the guy shows how badly you wanted him to fuck you so they just had to interrupt the conversation, both of them wrapping an arm around you waist and laying a kiss on your head.

"hey baby who's this" jacob asks moving his hand lower to grope your ass right in front of the man "just a friend i was talking to" you say already knowing the thoughts bouncing around in their minds "well seeing as we're here now you can go now" tom pipes up, watching the man quickly walk away to not start anything with tom or jacob.

"now why did you do that" you ask turning around to see the shit eating grin on their faces before jacobs leans down to kiss you and tom starts kissing your neck "we have no idea what you mean" tom mutter "guys stop we're in public" you try to push them off you but once they have a thought in mind they wont stop till they do it.

pushing you into the nearest bathroom and locking the door before taking off your clothes and letting them drop to the floor, jacob bending you over the the sink and spitting on his fingers, sliding them up and down your hole to open you up while tom continued making out with you to swallow your moans to keep them from reaching the ears of the others outside the door.

after some time of teasing you jacob finally slips his fingers inside you, curling them inside you over and over as he pumped them in and out of you, just grazing against your good spot leaving you moaning into toms mouth like a needy cock whore "please please i need it" you whined making them both chuckle "you want this cock in you" jacob taunts you, just barely rubbing his tip up and down your hole.

"mhm please j" you choke out and jacob fulfills your request, slipping his thick cock into you in an instant, whimpers falling from your mouth as the large man plows your hole raw while tom decides he has to keep you quiet some way, turning you his way and pulling his pants down to let his cock flop out and shoving it in your mouth, your moans reverberating around his cock making him shudder a little.

"two tight holes for two big cock" tom laughs pumping his cock in and out of your mouth roughly, listening to you gag around him like a good boy, it felt so good being a cock slut for tom and jacob, feeling their dick fill you up and stretch you out everyday, although it left you sore it was so good to be the only hole for them.

"what do you say, should we fill him up jacobs" tom asks feeling himself already about to unload "it would be a crime if we didn't" jacob smirks pounding into you harder before emptying his load into you, tom following close behind and cumming down your throat, hearing as you struggle to take all his thick cum down but you do.

"now what do you say" jacob asks giving a little slap to your ass "thank you daddy" you stammer out "good boy now lets get you dressed" tom says, they both help you put all your clothes back on and walk you to the car, getting weird stare from the guests that see you walking funny and looking fucked out, only if they knew.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[gaminegay]

Genuinely i wonder how common it is to hallucinate / perceive things oddly / have a notably altered perception of things

[cometconmain]

I have someone who comes to groom my dog because I physically can't keep up with it. He's extremely good at his job.

He also thinks Trump isn't all that bad a guy, the Democrats are the anti-human rights party, had no idea the Supreme Court was a thing/is controlled by Republicans and that's why so many human rights are being rolled back in America, refuses to actually use his privilege of having a preferential voting system to not have to vote for the two major shitty parties because he insists on believing nothing good has been done despite numerous proving points to the contrary in his own life let alone others' lives, thinks climate change is a hoax and can't wrap his head around why university studies need to be checked for a donor list and a fossil fuel company supported 'study' isn't reliable actually, hasn't even learned the most basic empathy concept of "you not suffering from a problem other people suffer from doesn't make that problem less important/you should care about people whose lives you don't experience", outright said with his full chest that maybe we should racially segregate the Olympics again actually, and a number of other toxic to downright rancid things I would have just written him off and slammed the door in his face for last year let alone a few years ago.

Don't get me wrong. Talking to him is fucking EXHAUSTING and I feel physically disgusting afterward having to just calmly listen to all these things he spouts which have historically resulted in entire groups of people being targeted for genocide and numerous other human rights abuses when left unchecked and allowed to fester at the societal level.

BUT HE LISTENS WHEN I CHALLENGE HIM.

I can see him actually seeing me as a human being worth listening to. He's older than me and definitely been down way too many right-wing rabbit holes for me to pull him onto the surface any time soon. But I'm giving him things to chew on and hopefully if we're lucky I've planted some seeds which will eventually grow into some semi decent human being plants one day. He's really ignorant and clearly under-educated and that itself isn't his fault and biting his head off isn't remotely going to make up for that gap and is only going to drive him further into the arms of whatever fucked up extremist conservative groups he's been listening to.

He is reachable. He's just also a very long project I only get to work on for an hour at a time every 6 weeks.

And some of the things I've said which I think were part of what got through to him involved showing empathy for him being a single father(? I may have mixed that up with someone else but I think he is) with a disabled kid. He shows empathy for disabled people because he's the father of one (and probably is neurodivergent himself I believe but unsupported and doing his best to give his son the support he didn't get from the sounds of it).

But yeah.

Listen: you don't have to take shit to the face if the person is solely malicious and trying to hurt you. No one is obligated to meet that with kindness and anyone saying otherwise can get fucked. There is a limit to how much bullshit someone can cop while the bullshitter acts like any emotional response to their bullshit is unreasonable/out of nowhere and that is valid on the part of the person copping the crap.

However, if you a) can handle coping long enough to break down those walls with unexpected kindness/it isn't dangerous for you to try that method (VERY IMPORTANT. PAY ATTENTION TO THOSE DETAILS. DON'T TRY THAT ON SOMEONE WHO IS ACTIVELY THREATENING/DANGEROUS TO YOU), or b) can tell it's soft bigotry/general ignorance driving the otherwise yuck things being said, do give the compassion and patient education route a try.

I've had numerous instances of me holding shitty ignorant beliefs I had no idea were actually harmful. The people biting my head off didn't get to me. The people who took the time to see I was just ignorant and under-educated on the matter (and hadn't yet developed the empathy for a group I didn't belong to) taking me aside and patiently dealing with my idiocy long enough to explain things to me in a way that got through my skull (and eventually into my heart as well) were the ones who fundamentally improved me as a person. I still have plenty of things I always have to work on. But I can tell you now I would be much MUCH worse without those patient, kind, educational interventions by people who could tell the difference between malice and ignorance.

The same applies to everyone else.

Human beings are human beings. All of us. Re-humanising each other is the last thing any of the politicians and extremist groups want us to do BECAUSE IT WORKS. IT BREAKS THE WARPED MODEL OF THE WORLD THEY PORTRAY AS REALITY TO DIVIDE US AND KEEP US ALL AT EACH OTHER'S THROATS INSTEAD OF CUTTING OFF THE FOOD SOURCE FOR THEIR WEEDS AT THE ROOT.

When we remind a hurting person that we are a person too, not the bogeyman the extremist groups paint us as, it shakes their warped worldview to the core. It makes them think. It makes them QUESTION. It makes them look at the flower the 'evil' Pride-pin wearer gave them because no one gave them flowers when their mother died and their hate begins to crack at the seams.

The things the world teaches men hurts men too. Teaching them they DON'T have to subscribe to that mentality all the way down to the roots of the patriarchy weed is the best and most effective way of cutting that mentality off at the source. Even if you struggle to empathise with men because you've been hurt; ok, valid. But it is demonstrably more effective, sustainable and long term changing to just get rid of all of it by addressing their pain and showing them how much healthier and happier they can be just in their own life let alone others' lives by casting off the system that hurts them too.

I'm pretty sure I'm just rehashing the same points here, sorry, but the concept of deradicalisation as a healing and long term change tool has been my social justice special interest this year so talking it out helps it solidify in my own head too. (And gives me strength to deal with bullshit because it reminds me it's worth copping what I can personally handle in order to get someone to think, change and grow, one exhausting person at a time).

part of the reason i love how bell hooks talks about masculinity is that she shows real compassion towards men suffering from the effects of toxic masculinity. she was conscious of how we need to unlearn the ways we talk about men + masculinity just as much as we need to unlearn the same for women + femininity. so many times ill see someone talking about toxic masculinity like (hyperbolizing here but only slightly) “these FUCKING STUPID BABY BITCHES won’t MAN UP and go to a therapist!!!” and like. i get the anger. but you see feminists recreating patriarchal manhood by only promoting good behaviors through patriarchal frameworks. any use of the term “real men” is bad because it reifies the idea that manhood is a special title you must earn, and it is something possible to fail and fake. & as important as it is to promote sexual equality + the pleasure of non-cis-men, lots of people are essentially still working with the idea that men need sexual prowess to have worth but just shifting it slightly so there is more emphasis on women’s pleasure. but I want cis men to think about their partners’ pleasure because they care about their partners, not because they need to check a box in order to keep their man card. and don’t get me started on small dick jokes– and the absolutely pitiful excuse people will use that “well, I don’t believe it, but misogynistic men get upset when I say it, so it’s okay!”

basically bell hooks is so fucking right. in order to create loving men we need to love men, simply for being alive, whether or not they are performing. as much as we need to actively unlearn misogyny (and we do), it’s equally vital we unlearn patriarchal ways of seeing manhood. we can’t just assume that taking a feminist perspective automatically means there is no work to be done there.

[littlelamy]

HEY HI GORGEOUS

I'm here with another idea. what about divorced rafe and reader where she finds out she's pregnant after they hooked up on a family trip that they did only bc their kid asked for both parents on their birthday and she has to tell him that the baby is his

author's note: hi bby, i made this a little angsty so i hope you enjoy it. thank you so much for sending a request! credits to @mochilly for the the divider <3

the soft hum of the engine and the chatter of your child in the backseat should've been comforting. you should've been able to relax and let the memories of the past weekend settle into something pleasant. but instead, all you could focus on was the secret bubbling inside you. a secret that was both thrilling and terrifying.

you’d been divorced from rafe for a year now. your kid's birthday party had been the excuse to bring you both back together, but the real reason for the trip was the way your kid begged. "please, just one weekend, mom, dad, both of you." and you had agreed, knowing that the family dynamic your child craved was slipping further away every day. rafe had agreed, too, though you both had kept your distance—until that night.

it had been a mistake. a drunken mistake. you had stayed in the same room because of space limitations, and the old chemistry that used to light up every corner of the house ignited that night, despite everything. you were both too broken, too hurt by the years of marriage that fell apart, but still... you found yourselves in bed together, tangled in passion.

now you were facing the consequences of that moment, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were about to crash into a wall of reality. you’d missed your period, and the test didn’t lie. the baby was his.

you pull up to the familiar house, the same one where you had shared so many memories, and where your child now split their time. your kid jumps out of the car and runs into the house, leaving you standing there, nerves tightening your chest. you take a deep breath and close your eyes, steeling yourself. you could do this.

the door opens, and there he is. rafe. his tall frame, messy hair, and that look in his eyes—the same look that once made your heart race. now, it just made your stomach churn with anxiety. he stares at you for a second, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“hey,” you say softly, fighting the tremble in your voice.

“hey, you okay?” he asks, voice rough but laced with concern. “you look like you’re about to pass out.”

you wince, your heartbeat picking up speed. “i, uh, need to talk to you about something.”

rafe’s gaze sharpens, his posture shifting into something more guarded. “what’s wrong? is it about the kid?”

“no, no, it’s about... me,” you mutter, then stop yourself. "well, actually, about us."

the silence between you stretches, thick and uncomfortable. he raises an eyebrow. “us? what the hell are you talking about?”

you glance at your hands, nervous to look him in the eye. “rafe, the thing is... i’m pregnant.”

the words fall into the space between you like a bomb, and his expression morphs instantly from confusion to shock. his lips part as he takes a step back. “what?” his voice is barely a whisper, but you hear the panic in it.

you nod, watching him closely. “yeah. i’m pregnant, rafe. and it’s... it’s yours.”

the air seems to freeze around you. rafe stares at you like he’s trying to process the words, like they can’t possibly be true. his jaw tightens, and you can see the conflict churning in his eyes. “you’re fucking kidding me, right?” he snaps, running a hand through his hair.

“no, i’m not,” you reply, your voice growing firmer, though your insides feel like they're about to implode. "i just found out. the timing—hell, it’s a fucking nightmare, but it’s true.”

rafe glares at you, his usual defensiveness rising like a shield. “how the hell did we end up here?” he mutters under his breath, pacing in a circle.

you feel your own frustration bubbling up. “don’t act like this isn’t your fault too, rafe,” you shoot back, your voice louder now. “you think i wanted this? i didn’t ask for this. i didn’t ask to be here with you again, but our kid wanted us both. and now... now i’m stuck in this mess, and you’re here acting like it’s a goddamn surprise.”

he clenches his fists, jaw tightening. "i know, alright? i know i fucked up with you. but this—this is too much." he stops, running a hand over his face. “you could’ve just... kept it from me. this doesn’t have to be real.”

you scoff, feeling the sting of his words. "i’m not that kind of person, rafe. i’m not just going to pretend it didn’t happen. you need to hear this. whether you like it or not, this is our reality now.”

he’s silent for a moment, then steps closer to you. his voice drops to something softer, more strained. “what do you want me to do, huh? you think i can just act like everything’s fine?”

“no,” you say, your eyes meeting his. “but i can’t do this alone. i need you, rafe. i need you to be here. for me. for our kid.”

he exhales sharply, and for the first time, you see something in his eyes that isn’t anger or confusion—it's fear. “i don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who’s stable, who can give you everything you need. i can’t be that guy.”

“stop,” you interrupt him, your voice trembling. “stop trying to push me away. you’re all i’ve ever needed. yeah, things fell apart between us, but we’re both human. i’m not asking for some fucking fairy tale, rafe. i’m asking for you to step up, for our kid, for what we used to have.”

his lips press together, and the tension in the air thickens. then, finally, he speaks. “you’re right. i’m not perfect, but i’ll be here. i’ll try, alright? i’ll try for you. for the baby. i—”

he cuts himself off and takes a deep breath. his voice cracks a little when he adds, “i’m scared as hell, but i’ll try.”

tears well up in your eyes, but you hold them back. “i’m scared too,” you whisper. “but i think we can make it work.”

he steps closer, lifting a hand to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek. his voice is low, almost a whisper. “we’ll figure this out. together.”

and for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[lunarsilver]

What awaits you in 2025?

REMEMBER

I’m not a doctor, a psychiatrist, a therapist nor a psychologist. Divination will never replace meetings with them.

It’s a general reading, so not everything will resonate.

If you can’t choose between two piles, probably both of them have some messages for you. You can also not identify with any of them, and that’s okay, too.

Readings can help you make a decision, but they shouldn’t be the main reason for making it.

1 ~ 2 ~ 3

4 ~ 5 ~ 6

PILE 1

What will this year teach you? 

Strength

The Major Arcana shining on your 2025 is Strength. That’s my favorite Tarot card if I’m being honest so I may be biased lol. You’ll learn this year you have way more strength than you thought you have - especially the psychological and mental one. This card is both about your inner strength and the way you are able to influence others. You’ll learn how to channel this power.

The main theme of each season for you

Winter: Summer (expansion, growth) - Spring: Leaves (renewal, revival, progress) - Summer: Bird (freedom, opportunity) - Fall: Moon (phases, cycles, intuition)

Funny that for the winter season we’ve got a card called Summer, huh? The first three months of this year you’ll find new ways to grow and work on it. This trend will continue in spring, though you’ll correct the course a bit, maybe come back to something (a hobby or a dream?) and realize that hey, you actually still like it. Summer is the time of vacations, so it only makes sense you’ll feel more freedom in your wings. An opportunity may come to you. Fall will be a more reflective season. Noticing patterns, being after some time again in a similar situation or place, getting more in tune with your intuition. 

Main blessings for you this year 

Longevity (Chrysanthemum) - Productivity (Kent pumpkin) - Hope (Daffodil)

Longevity suggests good health and a lot of energy. For some it may be even about curing a serious illness or surviving a dangerous situation, but obviously I won’t throw such statements lightly. With how we’ve already talked about your growth and nice opportunities during this year, it’s no brainer that you’ll be really productive and have a hopeful attitude.

The main challenge of this year

Ring - Moon - Sun

Commitment to the deep desire of being happy.

Okay, pile one, looks like your main challenge is literally being consistent lol. Literally the only person that can sabotage your huge growth this year is you yourself.

How will you grow? 

8 of Wands R - Justice R - The High Priestess 

After some time of frustration and slowing down, you’ll take full accountability for your actions and take your fate in your own hands. Thanks to this, you’ll be more in tune with your intuition and get more at peace with yourself.

A piece of advice 

Third Quarter Moon - Disseminating Moon - New Moon in Cancer

“Adjustments are required”, “Take time to breathe out”, “You and your loved ones are safe”

Think about what needs small changes. You’ll probably think mostly about what adjustments you should make during spring, as we’ve talked about it, but there’s no reason why you couldn’t do it now. Just take a deep breath and relax a little, it’s gonna be okay, both with you and your close ones, no need to stress out so much.

PILE 2

What will this year teach you?

The Sun R

This Major Arcana came up in reverse, so it’s more about your inner world. During this year you’ll learn how to take care of your inner child, how to balance optimism with realism and how to have fun with your hobbies that you thought you had buried a long time ago.

The main theme of each season for you

Winter: Cup of Tea (patience, reassessment) - Spring: Autumn (bounty, balance) - Summer: Tend (maintenance, encouragement, guidance) - Fall: Oak Tree (power, courage, strength)

The last card fell out even before I finished asking my question. This year will start slower for you, just to harvest the crops near the end of it. This winter you’ll reconsider what’s the best for you right now, patiently making plans with your interest in mind and seeing the first result of it in spring. Continuous work on it during summer will lead you to feeling way more empowered by the end of 2025. 

Main blessings for you this year

Refinement (Dahlia) - Healing (Geranium) - Duality (Banana)

The last card showed up as I was shuffling, so I consider it the most important one. Balance keeps coming back in this reading. I think healing refers to healing your inner child, and refinement is about getting better at what you already have; progress.

The main challenge of this year

Coffin - Fox - Heart

The end of a selfish love.

It looks like you’ll get over some crush/ex, though it may refer to any kind of love. Moving on will be hard but necessary.

How will you grow?

The Tower R - Two of Cups - Queen of Pentacles

Despite the fear of change, a personal transformation will take place. This will lead to a joyful partnership (a relationship, perhaps) and you being this confident, earthly Queen of Pentacles: a person good at finances and comfortable in their body.

A piece of advice

Void-of-Course-Moon - New Moon in Capricorn - Third Quarter Moon

“Nothing will come of this situation”, “Your hard work is paying off”, “Adjustments are required”

The thing with the end of a relationship of some kind keeps coming back. Nothing will come of it, so time to move on. It’ll only benefit you, pile two! Correct your course a little and act because you’ll reap your rewards.

PILE 3

What will this year teach you?

The Lovers

2025 will teach you how to make right choices, how to be in harmony with yourself as well as with others. You’ll learn a lot about navigating relationships and getting closer to people.

The main theme of each season for you

Winter: Basil (prosperity, luck, love) - Spring: Seeds (new ideas, hope, open-mindedness) - Summer: Sow (planning, setting intentions, optimism) - Winter: Leaves (reneval, revival, progress)

Winter looks very happy for you - good luck both in money and in love. During spring, you’ll stay open-minded and find new ideas thanks to this. With them in mind, you’ll start making plans and work on them till the end of the year.

Main blessings for you this year

Tranquility (violet) - Clarity (carrot) - Grounding (potato)

A pretty calm, steady vibe. You’ll be able to stay at peace, gain a better perspective on certain matters and be down to earth. Stability and a more mature approach .

The main challenge of this year

Mice - Book - Heart

Misinformation about love.

There’s something you won’t know at first or get a false impression regarding some kind of love. Someone may not have your best interest at heart.

How will you grow?

The Tower R - The Sun R - Knave of Wands

Something is going to end, and this will lead to you withdrawing and thinking more about what you actually want and need. This period of introspection is needed because it will help you to become this Knave of Wands - someone fierce, fiery and passionate. 

A piece of advice

New Moon in Scorpio - New Moon in Pisces - Full Moon in Aquarius

“Work through your fears”, “Meditate and contemplate”, “Show the world the real you”

The cards encourage you to face what you’re running away from. Think, meditate, maybe pray. Everything you need to make it easier for you to show the world what you have to offer.

PILE 4

What will this year teach you?

The Moon

You’ll get way more in tune with your intuition, as well as learn how to deal with your fears. You’ll mature a lot emotionally. You’ll get better at “reading” people but also at understanding your own patterns.

The main theme of each season for you

Winter: Cup of Tea (patience, reassessment) - Spring: Salt (protection, banishing negativity) - Summer: Earth (peace, grounding) - Fall: Hearth (safety, comfort, spiritual connection)

This year looks to be more on a quieter side. It’ll start off a little lazily. You’ll observe and revalue some things, and decide to leave what doesn’t serve you anymore; cut yourself off from toxic people. Thanks to this, you’ll have a much more peaceful life. You’ll get more in tune with nature, as well as more spiritual. You’ll feel more comfortable thanks to this decision of leaving people and situations that cause you harm.

Main blessings for you this year

Happiness (Marjoram) - Continuance (Apple) - Clarity (Carrot)

This year will be joyful and peaceful. You’ll move on from doesn’t serve you and get a better perspective on what surrounds you.

The main challenge of this year

Book - Birds - Mice

Knowledge about dirty gossip.

The thing with some people you should get rid of because they don’t have your best interest at heart keeps popping up. 

How will you grow?

Queen of Pentacle R - The Fool R - Seven of Cups R

You’ll start putting yourself first more often. It will take some time, but at last you’ll get more financially independent and prioritize your personal values. 

A piece of advice

New Moon in Aquarius - Waning Moon - New Moon in Cancer

“Bring love into the situation”, “What do you need to release?”, “You and your loved ones are safe”

Forgive yourself if there is anything you keep blaming yourself about. Release what doesn’t serve you. Both you and people you love are safe so make more room for the ones who want good for you.

PILE 5

What will this year teach you?

The Hermit R

The main thing you’ll learn about this year is being alone - depending on your situation, either that you should reflect and meditate more, or that it’s time to finish your solitude and go out to people. Based on other cards, I think for most of you it’s the latter.

The main theme of each season for you

Winter: Broom (energy clearing, freshening) - Spring: Potion (invigoration, empowerment) - Summer: Moon (phases, cycles, intuition) - Fall: Bird (freedom, opportunity)

You’ll start this year with cleansing - both physical and more metaphorical/spiritual. You’ll be very energetic during spring, as well as more in tune with your personal power. You can do so much, and this season will show this! Later, you’ll learn to be more intuitive, you’ll notice some patterns that were hidden before. Something from your past may show up again. Maybe vacations to the place you always come to, or your old friends or love coming back into your life. Some nice opportunities will show up for you in fall.

Main blessings for you this year

Healing (Geranium) - Focus (Stock) - Luck (Lime)

You’ll heal some part of you that was hurt in the past. You’ll find out what you should focus on and actually commit to it. “May the luck be ever in your favor”.

The main challenge of this year

Dog - Man - Clover

A friendly man’s offer.

Now, that’s interesting and can go a few ways.I highly doubt that the man represents you. Your main challenge of the year is this person that will probably give you some kind of opportunity. With how the cards before were, I think it’ll most likely happen either during summer or fall, so the second part of the year. The guy is a kind and loyal one, so don’t worry, the offer, while challenging, will be a good thing.

How will you grow?

Knave of Pentacles - Five of Wands - Queen of Pentacles

I think it’s lovely how you’ll grow from the Knave of Pentacles into the Queen of Pentacles. You’re starting as someone great already, and then become even better lol. You’re hardworking and productive. A challenge will show up, a conflict or disagreement between you and a few people. Probably a rivalry at work. You’ll emerge victorious and stronger than before: a royal who knows their worth and how to deal with earthly matters.

A piece of advice

New Moon in Taurus - Waxing Moon - New Moon in Aries

“Prosperity lies ahead”, “The energy is gaining momentum”, “It’s time to take action”

All the cards talk basically about the same thing: it’s your time. I think it’s about your career or your school. You have strong cards so time to play.

PILE 6

What will this year teach you?

The Empress

Regardless of your gender, you’ll learn the power that lies within femininity. Who said someone nurturing and empathetic isn’t strong? There are also lessons about utilizing creativity and discovering what makes you beautiful, as well as understanding better your sensual side. For some, this year may also teach you a lot about motherhood.

The main theme of each season for you 

Winter: Oak Tree (power, courage, strength) - Spring: Sage (wisdom, purification, harmony) - Summer: Pine Tree (vitality, longevity, perseverance) - Fall: Summer (expansion, growth)

You’ll start your year strong and then only continue at getting more knowledgeable and in tune with your needs and inner self. You’ll secure what’s important for you and grow even more. Looks like an intense and rewarding year, happy for you! 

Main blessings for you this year

Healing (Geranium) - Success (Peppermint) - Divination (Chives)

Yeah, we get further confirmation this year will be focused on you growing and learning how to nurture yourself. There will be work put into healing the part of you you’ve rejected and a lot of different kinds of successes. The Divination card is interesting. I think it means you’ll learn more about this topic (especially if you practice or think about practicing divination). Maybe you’ll have a spiritual awakening. For some, it’s simply about divination helping you navigate your journey.

The main challenge of this year

Heart - Garden - Moon

A loving community’s desires and expectations.

Social fear is your main challenge for this year. You’re scared of people’s judgement. But worry not, because there is a loving community for you out there, and they’ll love you the way you are. 

How will you grow?

Three of Cups R - The Devil R - Three of Pentacles

You’ll release limiting beliefs and limit contact with people who don’t have your best interest at heart. If you’re lonely, it’ll come to an end. There are people out there with whom you’ll communicate easily and work as a team. You’ll learn a lot from each other and probably do something creative together.

A piece of advice 

Full Moon in Capricorn - Full Moon in Taurus - New Moon in Scorpio

“The end of a tough cycle approaches”, “Your dreams need a practical plan”, “Work through your fears”

Yeah, it looks like it’s been kinda hard for you recently, huh? Well, this is coming to an end. Time to plan your next actions and face your worries. Time to deal with them, you can’t run away from them.