#i was waking and sleeping waking and sleeping waking and sleeping

[chastiefoul]

waking them up with kisses

ft. nanami, gojo, sukuna, toji short, fluff, light-hearted. honestly such a word-vomit, written while i was half asleep. but hey hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! slightly suggestive on gojo

nanami

there’s a slight smile on his face by the third time your lips made contact with his skin, yet he showed no of being awake to you, who’s still oblivious to his subtle change of expression as you kept peppering soft kisses across his cheekbone. finally a low chuckle escaped him, he just couldn’t help it. “good morning to you too, my love,” he muttered, pulling you who’s still in his arms closer. the warmth of your body as he embraced you sent an unexplainable ticklish feeling to his stomach.

“seriously, it took so many kisses to wake you up,” you said lightly, brushing the strand of his blond hair. such a weird sensation, to be this giddy right after you woke up, but it’s one nanami welcomed so openly. “hmm, i might need even more to be fully awake,” he replied with a teasing smile, closing his eyes. you felt his leg tangling with yours, there wasn’t a part of his body that wasn’t touching yours. like a cat snuggling for warmth.

your hand couldn’t keep itself still, moving from his hair to his cheek. running along your thumb gently across his lashes, and the man suddenly fluttered them open. there wasn’t anything except love as he gazed at you so softly, grabbing your hand as he planted a kiss on your palm. all of it just felt so right, and you couldn’t help but wish that time ticked slower in small moments like this.

gojo

a big grin made its way to his face almost immediately when you started showering the man with kisses. his hair messy from sleep as he lied down, surrendering himself to your attacks; he laughed genuinely, the beautiful sound made you more determined. the mere expression of him being that happy brought you the same if not more amount of joy.

when you finally pulled away there’s a satisfied smile on his face as he opened his eyes. “best morning ever,” he said, pulling you close to his chest, forcing you to rest your head there as you listened to his steady heartbeat. “that’s what you said last time too when i woke you up with a head,” you bantered, there’s a lightness in your chest. he chuckled once more.

“well every morning i start by seeing your face is the best one baby, couldn’t help it,” he muttered, very lightly pinching your cheek as he said this. he then raised your chin with a finger, making you look up at him as he kissed your lips sweetly, moving slowly at the beat of his own drums as he pecked the outer corner of your mouth, and then your cheek. and then there’s just pure mischief on his eyes.

“my turn now!”

sukuna

sukuna indulged himself in a few more of your gentle touches on his face, the softness of it almost made him felt like he was out of place. yet he couldn’t help it, savoring each of your kiss as to making sure he won’t get used to it. finding wonders to every of your move as he cherished it so.

“i’m awake,” he mumbled, thinking it’ll stop you from doing it. but when your response was just to give you more of it he couldn’t help but blinked awake; the sight of you smiling down at him almost made his heart burst. “morning!” you said sweetly, resting the palm of your hand on his bare chest.

“i’m already exhausted looking at your energized-self on the first light of the day,” he claimed, covering your hand with his. “well, we have a date today, of course i’m excited,” you said, the exuberance was apparent on your voice. sukuna looked like he was thinking for a moment before making you lie back down on his arms.

“let me sleep a little longer, then we will do whatever it is that  you want.”

toji

“what’s got you so chirpy, hm?” he had an lazy smile on his face, eyes still closing. his calm expression betraying the giddy feeling in his chest; you were so fucking cute, what’s a man supposed to do? once again you planted a kiss on his lips, right on his scar. there it was again, the damn itch on his chest he couldn’t scratch.

“nothing, just happy,” you replied, drawing random patterns on his chest. “yeah?” he brought you closer with the hand that’s still wrapped around your waist. you nodded happily, snuggling closer to his neck.

toji thought words such as forever or eternity was bullshit until that moment, until he's got you tightly in his hold; all safe and cozy without a care in the world. yet in that split second he wanted it to be true. y’know, just to humor him a little.

“if i didn’t know any better i woulda thought you won a lottery or something.”

but it would be wrong. since he already won it when he met you.

[girl-lostconnection]

Hear me out

Simon brings Johnny home and doesn’t tell him that there’s only one bed.

Simon brings Johnny home and hopes he can just herd both Reader AND Soap in the same bed, kinda tucking them in and plastering himself over them like they are his kittens.

Simon who’s very much unimpressed when Reader announces that she’s gonna take the couch, thinking “bloody hell, I need to get rid of the thing, should have thought about it before trying to get them in the same bed”.

Meanwhile Johnny who feels like murdering Simon and apologising to Reader because NOW she looks at him like he’s actually a dog her partner brought home and is insistent she lets the mutt sleep in their bed.

In the end, Reader snaps that she can get a room at the hotel if Simon doesn’t settle, Simon is growling that it’s her fucking home she’s not going anywhere in the blizzard and Johnny is sipping on his tea and eating the biscuits that Reader keeps adding to his plate.

Simon and Johnny take the bed in the end, she goes on the couch feeling mad and miserable just to wake up sandwiched between these two — Soap’s face in her cleavage, Simon’s back pressed to hers.

Part 1 (of actual AU)

[strwberri-milk]

heyyy, could i request lads men forgetting readers birthday or anniversary? hurt comfort pls 🥹

You understand that Zayne's job is incredibly important and you would never hold it against him for forgetting these dates but you also know that you're still going to feel hurt no matter how much you rationalise it. You woke up that morning, knowing that today should have been a special day, that he remembered to book it off months in advance and the two of you would be together.

When you see him getting ready for work you feel your heart drop, watching silently as he puts together his lunch and grabs his things. He doesn't notice you're up, thinking that you're still asleep and you take that opportunity to run back into bed and feign sleep again. You'd feel awful if you let Zayne go to work worrying about missing something this important so you decide it'd be kinder to just let him go to work in peace.

It's not until he looks at his schedule after a complicated surgery right from the moment he got into work that he realises what day it is today. He feels awful about it, immediately trying to figure out what surgeries he could offload onto the others so he can try and get home to you as soon as possible. Thankfully, all the other staff are emphatic about his situation, assisting him in getting home as soon as he can.

Thankfully, he's usually prepared in advance when it comes to gifts so he doesn't have to buy you anything last minute. He does make it a point to go and grab you a bouquet as well as some little treats/snacks of all your favourite things. When he comes home he finds you curled up in bed, trying to cheer yourself up. He hates how he made you feel and silently slides in behind you, holding you tightly as he whispers that he's sorry for forgetting about you. He promises that he'll make it up to you another night when the two of you are free, promising an evening at a restaurant you love while he currently placates you with the food and flowers he brought.

Xavier was so exhausted that he accidentally slept through the plans that the two of you made. You didn't even know it happened until you reappeared from the bedroom, watching him sleep peacefully on the bed. You can't bring yourself to wake him, sighing as you move to tuck him in.

He wakes up in the middle of the night, sitting up with a jolt as he realises that he missed your date. He rushes to bed only to find you dead asleep, dried tear tracks on your face. The sight breaks his heart, and he immediately starts making plans to try and fix his mistake.

When you come home one evening you're a little panicked because you can't see anything. You reach around blindly, trying to find a light switch to turn on some light in the pitch black darkness. confused when you realise you can't move the switch. You're about to call for Xavier when he makes his presence known beside you, putting a hand on your shoulder and guiding you to the living room. You're expecting to run into your coffee table but you're confused when you don't, kneeling on the ground as he counts down after covering your eyes.

You hear the click of a button and he uncovers your eyes, showing you the room illuminated by seemingly hundreds of little stars. You look around in surprise by the assortment of fairy lights and stars, a little surprised as you realise you're also sat in front of a meal comprised of your favourite takeout.

He gives you a heartfelt apology, promising that he didn't do it on purpose and he's felt awful about it the entire time. He promises that he'll clean all of this up after the two of you are finished. He doesn't want you to take on any of the stress about this at all, pampering you in extra gifts as an additional apology.

Rafayel is amazing whenever it comes to remembering important dates. His life revolves around you so that's why you find it so odd that the day comes and goes with absolutely no fanfare. It's so out of character that you literally gaslight yourself into thinking that you had the dates mixed up, mentioning it to him offhandedly how it's so weird that you thought yesterday was your anniversary but maybe it actually wasn't. Your birthday is an entirely different scenario though - you just tell him that it's okay if he's too busy to do anything and hopefully you can do something next year.

Rafayel is devastated, internally falling to his knees and sobbing while externally all you see is him humming thoughtfully. Internally he's trying to figure out what the hell happened for him to have dropped the ball. He's so panicking, pulling out his phone to book reservations at the fanciest restaurant he can think of and paying an exorbitant amount of money to do so. He also has so many gifts for you that at this point, he could just pull from a pile he has hidden in his home, telling you that you can have this for now because the main event is coming at your dinner reservation.

It doesn't take you long for you to realise that he actually kinda did fuck up and totally forgot about it when you hear him talking to Thomas about how he can't take on any projects at all because he's busy trying to make sure you don't hate him for forgetting a major event. You end up asking him about it right then and there, basically confronting him about why he forgot. He promises you it wasn't intentional and that he just had so much fun preparing for the even that he fully forgot to actually carry through with his plans.

He ends up making it up to you in bed. You mope and pout and bury yourself underneath the luxurious sheets and refuses to let him in. He basically just lays on top of you, burying his face into your neck and begging for forgiveness. You refuse to give it to him that easily, deciding to make him mope and pout more. He holds you tightly, continuing to whisper sweet nothings as he tells you he'll make it up to you by giving you his credit card. You jokingly tell him that's more than enough before getting serious and telling him how upset you are. He swears it won't happen again and to his credit, it never does.

Sylus couldn't get out of a previous commitment, mentally noting that it was a special day and aiming to follow through with absolutely no problem. Unfortunately, his meeting dragged and by the time it finished he had even more things to do which left you standing in his bedroom, dressed extravagantly for a missed reservation.

You cry to yourself quietly in the room as you get yourself undressed for the evening. It doesn't really hit you until you're laying in bed in your pajamas, staring up at the ceiling as you tell yourself that he didn't mean to do it on purpose.

He comes in as you're crying, listening to your soft sniffles. When you go quiet in hopes of attempting to convince him you weren't just sobbing your eyes out he feels even worse, quickly putting two and two together. He realises what he just missed, looking back at his phone and seeing the reservation cancellation.

He immediately scoops you up in his arms. You try to resist him at first but falter when your body settles into his familiar warmth. He coos at you, whispering apologies into your ear. You want to tell him too little too late but you also know that he never would want to see you crying like this, especially not because of him.

He holds you all night, telling you that you can ask him for anything and he'll make it happen for you. He already does but the guilt of this weighs on him so heavily that he knows that no matter what stands in his way, he won't let it stop him from giving you everything that you want. He also makes sure that it doesn't happen again, wanting you to feel like you could always trust him. If he lost your trust on top of that he'd never forgive himself, telling you that you're everything to him.

[bloodnight-blaze]

“ kiss me under the mistletoe! ”

ft. xavier, zayne, rafayel, and sylus w a gn!reader.

synopsis: the holidays are long over, but that doesn't stop you from hanging up a mistletoe as an excuse to kiss your boyfriend.

notes: listen.... listen okay.... i can't wait until december to write this i have to get it out now.... lengths of each section may vary but i tried to keep it to an 8 paragraph maximum.

warnings: canon is vague so you decide, inaccurate timing of mistletoe i guess, very short and sweet and self-indulgent, just a lot of fluff and a lot of kissing, reader wears lipstick in raf's part bc i am desperate to cover that man in lipstick stains, zayne is a menace, sylus is also a menace, pet names used: cutie (r), sweetie (s).

XAVIER — is very confused when he wakes up from a nap to see mistletoe dangling in his face. Last he checked, it was the middle of January so he's fairly certain he didn't sleep the entire new year away. Though, it's not something that's entirely out of the question.

Behind the mistletoe he saw your smiling face, and you pull the plant away from him as he sits up, planting yourself right next to him and looking at him expectantly.

Xavier knew what the mistletoe meant, he just didn't quite understand why you were using it now, weeks after Christmas.

You don't seem at all concerned by the timing of this, just smiling at his confusion and raising the mistletoe up a bit as you speak, "This is the part where you kiss me, y'know,"

And while he might have some questions, he's never been one to deny you what you want.

A small huff of amusement, and then he's leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against your lips. You eagerly kissed back, barely able to contain the giddy smile on your face when the kiss breaks.

The smile on your face, coupled with the look of satisfaction in your gaze has him pulling you onto his lap, pressing a few more quick kisses to your lips before he's burying his face in your shoulder and letting out a small sigh.

His heart felt so warm, and even though he just woke up from a nap, he wouldn't mind falling back asleep like this. Which is exactly what he plans on doing, by the way, so any plans you had after your silly little idea are immediately canceled.

ZAYNE — would pretend not to notice it at first. He's not being mean, he just thinks the little frustrated pout you get when he acts like the mistletoe has always been there is cute, so he can't help himself. He's also curious to see just how far you'd go to get a kiss from him without having to ask.

It even becomes a game, of sorts, with Zayne sometimes acting as though he'd finally kiss you when standing under the mistletoe only to instead pat your head or press a kiss to your cheek.

You took his teasing as a challenge, and soon enough you somehow hung up mistletoe in all of the doorways in both your home and his. You even went as far as to hang one in the doorway of his office at the hospital.

A few of his coworkers had questioned him about it, and he couldn't stop the look of fondness that bleeds through his usual calm and collected demeanor, simply telling them that it wasn't any of their concern.

It all coalesces one night, maybe two or three weeks into trying to get a kiss under the mistletoe with him. He showed up at your apartment with dinner only to find you sitting at the kitchen counter, all the mistletoe you had put up set in a pile. Your arms were crossed, and you were glaring down at the plants as if they'd insulted you in some way.

"I give up," You say, a bit dejected. And Zayne feels a bit bad, admittedly, as he sets your dinner on the counter next to all the mistletoe. He doesn't really understand why you're trying to get an excuse to kiss him when you can just do it, but he'll humor you.

With a small sigh, he grabs one of the mistletoes and dangles it above your head. It's enough to get you to perk up, and you brighten immediately when he presses a kiss to your lips. It was quick, and when he pulled away, he mutters a soft, "Satisfied?"

"Hardly," You exhaled, but he covered your mouth with his hand before you could kiss him again, his lips quirking up in a slight smile at the frustrated sound that comes from you. You weren't getting anymore kisses until you ate dinner, no matter how pretty you looked with your puppy-dog eyes.

RAFAYEL — probably wouldn't even realize you had put mistletoe in the entryway of his home. At the very least, when he does notice it, he'll be far more interested in figuring out what shades of pant he could make with the plant rather than anything else.

You can't say you're shocked when you hurry back to his place after running a quick errand to find him crushing the mistletoe. You curse yourself for not buying a backup in case this scenario happened, but there wasn't much you could do.

That doesn't mean you were any less determined, however. The mistletoe may not longer be a plant, but it was in the paint he was making, and therefore the rules still applied, so.

Deciding to be patient, you would wait until Rafayel actually used the paint to make your move. The painting hung on his wall proudly when it was finished, a satisfied smile on his face as he watched you admire it for a few moments, "So? Would you say this is my new masterpiece, cutie?"

And you feign deep thought for a moment before you pull him down into a kiss. It wasn't heated, but it did last for a good second before you pulled away. Bewilderment in his eyes and a pretty blush dusting his ears and cheeks, you smile and simply nod to the painting on the wall, "Mistletoe."

It takes him a few moments to process your word, and his brows furrow slightly, "It's not even December," He says, though he certainly wasn't complaining when you pull him in for another kiss.

You kiss him until his face is covered in lipstick stains, and your lipstick was smeared. His breaths came out in small pants, a dazed look in his eyes when you finally pull away.

"...You're trying to kill me," He quietly accuses after catching his breath, and you can only laugh.

SYLUS — is rather amused when he steps into your apartment to see a thing of mistletoe dangling in the entranceway. He knew you were planning something from the moment you told him to stop by your place.

His amusement only grows when he sees you standing under the mistletoe, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible as he takes his jacket and shoes off. He doesn't need to ask questions, he's not a fool.

The mistletoe was there for a reason, one so glaringly obvious he couldn't help but feel a bit smug knowing that you were trying to find sneaky ways to kiss him. He was flattered, truly, but you didn't need to go to such lengths.

His hands were on your waist in an instant, and you don't miss the gleam in his eyes as he looks at you. Oh, he was never going to let you forget about this moment, and you were half tempted to pull away before he could get the chance to actually kiss you.

His lips capture yours before you can actually distance yourself from him, and it was much more gentle than you were probably expecting it to be. He kissed you like a man dying of thirst, and yet he controlled himself enough to not make you uncomfortable.

"You don't need to use a plant to kiss me, sweetie," He murmurs against your skin after breaking the kiss, instead taking to pressing light kisses against your jaw and neck.

The attention had your mind faltering for just a moment, and you grumble out a quiet 'whatever' before lightly pushing him away from you. You had to cover his mouth with your hand just to get him to stop kissing you. Not that it worked, because he just presses one against your palm, his gaze never leaving yours.

You're the one who wanted a kiss, even going as far as to bringing out mistletoe in the middle of January to achieve your goal. He's just simply giving you what you were asking for.

[valyvinny]

╰┈➤ ❝ Love and deepspace boys ⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ Love Languages ❞

PAIRING : Caleb x reader, Sylus x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader and Xavier x reader GENRE : Fluff WORD COUNT : 1745 TAGS : sfw, fluff, minor self deprecation (only in Xavier's) A/N : Very fluffy headcannons for the boys! Really enjoyed writing this so I hope you like it :). The next piece of writing is probably gonna take a while because exammmsss ugh. Pray for me everybody.

The different love langauges of the LADS boys

──●◎●── Caleb ┆彡 Physical touch

Caleb is an absolute FIEND for physical touch. This is largely because he spent the better part of his life having to make do with patting your head, ruffling your hair, and holding your hand to ‘measure hand sizes’. Always having to exercise an immense amount of restraint when all he wanted to do was kiss you senseless.

The line between platonic and romantic was blurred since the very beginning. But Caleb wouldn’t dare tread that line, especially if it meant losing you. That he wouldn’t be able to bear. 

But now you were his, and he’d take any excuse to have some part of himself touching you at all times. Whether that be a hand on the small of your back, little pecks throughout the day, cradling your face, massaging your sore muscles, he’d take it. 

However, his favorite form of physical touch other than sex ofcourse was just holding you. Sometimes it would be when the both of you had a rare day off together. It would be a lazy afternoon, your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you, lazing around on the couch. 

Other times it would be late at night, after another grueling day of work. With him holding you close, your back to his chest. 

Sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night, another one of his treacherous nightmares plaguing his sleep. But the sight of you next to him would instantly put him at ease. He’d pull you closer to him, kiss your neck, and drift back to sleep. 

With you in his arms, Caleb felt truly at peace. 

──●◎●── Rafayel ┆彡 Quality time

Rafayel will do anything with you, as long as it meant that you were next to him. He wasn’t very picky with what the both of you were doing really. As long as he was doing it with you. 

You were his muse. Many times, he’d ask you to simply sit around him while he paints. You’d be doing your own thing. Typing up work emails, writing your reports or catching up on your favorite series. 

There wouldn’t be much conversation between the two of you. But somehow, your mere presence brought him inspiration to create. With you around, ideas came easy. 

You’d often be subjected to his texts throughout the week. 

“Hey cutie, wanna go on a walk with me” 

Other times it would be 

“I have an exhibition in Milan. Dun know if you wanted to come?”

(That’s a lie, he already has an extra ticket ready. But it wouldn’t hurt to ask right?) 

And who were you to deny the Lemurian? 

Sometimes however, your schedule didn’t allow you such luxuries. But that minor inconvenience didn’t stop him. He’d come over and help you do your laundry or even cook you a delicious meal if it meant just spending that extra bit of time with you. 

Every now and then your work required you to take missions away from him. Sometimes even away from Linkon. It was pure torture for the merman. Sure, you’d video call occasionally, but it just wasn’t enough. He wished you were beside him. 

And when you’d eventually came back to him, he’d pout. 

“Look who finally decided to stop by” 

But all that indignation would melt almost instantly as soon as you said “I missed you Raf”  

──●◎●── Sylus ┆彡 Gift Giving

Sylus is a very busy man. One would be heading an organization such as Onychinus. There’s always a deal to make, meetings to attend and people to intimidate. But that never stops him from always having you on his mind. He’s a thoughtful man. 

Sometimes you’d come home to find a package dropped outside the door to your flat. 

“I was passing by a store and I thought this dress would look beautiful on you kitten” the note attached to it would say. And it did. It was tailored to perfection to fit your form, hugging all your curves in all the right places. 

The dress would easily be several thousand dollars. Every time you’d admonish Sylus for spending so carelessly, he’d scoff in response. 

“Money is nothing to me sweetie” 

More often than not, you’d find a single rose on your window sill. When you questioned the silver haired man about it, he’d simply say “Well kitten, you shouldn’t leave your window open. It’s not safe. A little birdie may come in” 

(But maybe that’s exactly why you did it) 

But perhaps the most thoughtful gifts are the ones that Sylus gets you after you’d casually mentioned it in passing. 

One such present, and probably your most cherished one, was your limited edition plushie. They had it in stock only in one store in the whole of Linkon. To make matters even more bleak, they were selling it only for a day. 

“I really wish I could get it myself. But the Association just assigned a mission to me” you’d complained. 

The next time you met Sylus, he’d be holding that very plushie in his hand. 

“I have something for you sweetie” 

Truth be told, Sylus doesn’t understand the allure of such toys. It seemed to be quite popular considering he’d stood in a queue for a grand total of three hours. But it was worth it, the look of excitement and surprise on your face is something that he replays in his mind every now and then, whenever he’s away from you. It brings him warmth. 

Sylus would give you the world if he could, just to see you happy. 

──●◎●── Zayne ┆彡 Acts of service

Zayne is a very attentive man. He’s almost fine tuned to your needs and wants. Sometimes you’d tease that he never really frees himself from his ‘Doctor mode’. He spoils you, really. 

“I’ve ordered your favorite soup from the restaurant you like. It’s on its way to you. Please eat well” he’d text you when you were on your way home after another tiring day fighting wanderers. 

It’s almost like Zayne was a mind reader. Somehow, he’d know exactly what you needed, when you needed it. 

“I’m coming over to you right now. I have a tub of ice cream and chocolate in hand. Would you like anything else?” he’d ask you on the first day of your period. 

For Zayne, your happiness and well-being were his priority. He’d go to any lengths to ensure that. 

Once, after a particularly overwhelming week at work, you were dreading returning to your apartment. You’d left your place in a mess having had no time to clean up in between work days. You’d often find yourself coming home and collapsing into bed almost immediately. 

But now you had to face the mountain of a task that was cleaning up. Especially now, considering you had the next few days off. 

As you opened the door to your apartment, you were stunned. The entire place was neat and tidy. Not a hair out of place. From the kitchen, a delicious aroma wafted over to you, a pot of stew boiling away on the stove. 

You stood there both in awe and confusion, when Zayne emerged from your room. He looked soft, clad in a pair of pajamas and an apron, a duster in his hand. He hardly resembled the same intimidating Dr. Zayne that had everyone quaking in their boots.

“I hope you don’t mind. I had some free time and used the spare key you gave me” he said. 

“I thought you could use some help cleaning up. Once you freshen up, I can serve the rice and stew I made for dinner” 

Zayne preened under your appreciation. Warmth creeping up his neck, dusting his ears a soft shade of red, as you littered his face with kisses and endless appreciation. 

“It’s nothing” he’d say. 

To him, it really was nothing. If Zayne could do anything to lighten your burden or even make your day just a tad bit better, he’d do it in a heartbeat. 

──●◎●── Xavier ┆彡 Words of affirmation

Xavier truly has a way with words. He always knows exactly what to say, no matter the circumstance. This innate ability of his had the power to single-handedly turn your day around. 

You wanted to be the best hunter there ever was. This ambition of yours would often push you to take up extreme and risky missions to prove your abilities. But sometimes, it made you reckless.

There was one such time, where you were battling a rather difficult Wanderer. You really tried your hardest. Used all the strength you could muster and everything you’ve learned from your years of training, but the Wanderer bested you. If it weren’t for Xavier fighting it off, you’re not sure you would’ve made it through. 

“I’m pathetic” you’d say after. “I can’t seem to do anything right” 

Xavier couldn’t stand it when you were like this. The self deprecation stung him a little. If only you could see yourself through his eyes. But in moments like these, he knew you needed an extra bit of support and affirmation. 

“You did good my light. You were brave. No one else volunteered to take this mission but you did” he’d say, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your forehead. 

“It was a difficult mission. The Wanderer was of an incredibly high level and you weakened it considerably. You’re stronger than you know. Sometimes, it’s okay to combine strengths and ask for help okay?” 

And it not just what he says. It’s how he says it. Xavier says things with such surety and conviction, that you can’t help but believe him. You can’t help but take his words as law. 

Your favorite part of the day is always the random text that Xavier would send you. It would always be at different times, owing to the fact that he would often fall asleep and wake up rather erratically. But the element of surprise made it that much better. 

Each day was different. Sometimes it would be “You can achieve anything you set your mind to my love” other times it would be “I believe in you my light” 

These messages meant more to you than Xavier would ever know. It comforted you, knowing that you had someone by your side to always root for you. It gave you the strength and the courage to face obstacles head on. 

And for Xavier, praising and encouraging you came easily. You’re the strongest woman he’s ever known and he’d spend his entire lifetime reminding you the same. 

© valyvinny. All right reserved. Do not steal, copy, translate, repost or reupload any of my works. Do not use my work for AI

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi love!! Can i get a poly!marauders x fem reader (or just sirius if you do not write poly) where she is a pretty good cook and just keeps making random things at weird times, like she’d bake cookies at 2 in the morning or make different dishes from different cuisines or she’s bake stuff for each boy depending on what they like and the boys just love her so much for it

James notices you’re out of bed through a groggy search for your warm body that rewards him only with cold sheets and a frown.

He stills and then hears a soft snap and is out of bed with heavy feet, not before taking a peak at Remus and Sirius and finding them sound asleep.

James finds you pulling a pan from the oven and sighs, swiping a hand through his moussed up curls.

“Gorgeous it’s got to be like three in the morning.”

You turn to him with a sheepish smile- James isn’t angry, just concerned. You seem to always get your culinary epiphanies when you should really be getting some rest.

“But I had this idea for a maple pear and almond tart that I couldn’t let go.”

James smiles softly despite his tiredness, “I bet it’s delicious, angel girl but you should be asleep.”

You allow James to cross the distance to you now you’ve set down the tart, his arms corded and warm.

“What’s going on down ‘ere?” Sirius rasps, James turns to him slowly and coos at the look of him. Chest all creased from sleep and grey eyes light as silver as he stares blearily at you and James.

“This angel was just finishing up a tart and coming to bed.”

Sirius narrows his eyes, you narrow yours back but crack when he shakes his head. “You’ve got to get your masterful ideas at a more reasonable hour, poppet.”

You nod, eyeing the sink full of dishes when James nudges you to Sirius. “Go on up and I’ll load the dishwasher.”

You want to protest but Sirius is deliciously warm and he smells like tobacco and sleep and you feel your feet ache from all your standing.

“C’mon poppet, I’ll tuck you in right and nice.”

You snort, “Such a pleasant way of saying trap me to the bed.”

Sirius chuckles as James rinses off the dishes and sets them into the dishwasher.

James only hears the last bit of your conversation, “Thank god Rem didn’t wake else I’d have gotten it good.” You joke, James can imagine Sirius’ wicked grin as he shuts the dishwasher door and sets a plate over the tart.

“Oh I’m still telling him when we get up for real poppet. Lest you think this goes unpunished.”

[aunti-maim]

Watch out what you wish for

I'm paid (next to nothing) for "Doing nothing"

It's called disability

People say "I wish I could do nothing all day"

Here is what I do all day

Wake up in tired and in pain, muscles that can't fully relax while sleeping are stiff and full of lactic acid

Take meds that I need to take ever 6 hours (makes sleeping difficult) wait an hour for them to kick in enough to get up (still hurting but an hour of slow stretching means I can walk)

Get up to get something to eat, hope like hell there is something I can eat that has protein because I can't have 90% of premade, prepackaged food due to multiple chemical and food sensitivities

Go back to bed because 20 minutes in the kitchen wore me out

Try to rest and hope today is a day I can do something (sitting down) for a few hours

Lay down because the fatigue is so overwhelming

Take meds

Repeat the laying down for an hour or so hoping the meds work today

Maybe do another hour of crafts or housework

Lay down exhausted and hurting

Get up because I need to cook something with protein... Put meat in the oven and maybe cook some lentils or make egg bread patties (lots of eggs, 1/2 cup each gf baking mix, oat flour, and almond flour in patty pans)

Better not forget to set the oven to turn itself off in case I can't stay awake

Hope I don't ruin the food

Try to get some sleep

Keep waking up from pain

I am careful what I wish for "I wish I wasn't in pain....but not crippled or dead"

[azrielbrainrot]

I was thinking a possible, sleeping in the same bed, as they’d often do, but one morning waking up cuddling, but with Azriel? I'm dying to see him waking up to the reader latched on and having a break through about it. Maybe even the reader waking up and being embarrassed but leading to a confession? 👀

Close to You

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Word Count: ~0,7k

A/N: I hope you enjoy this, I didn't really add a proper confession because it didn't really fit in this moment so I hope that's okay. Thank you so much for sending it in!

It's not often that Azriel sleeps through the night. In fact it's so rare that he's genuinely surprised that the faint rays of the sun shining through his curtains greet him when he opens his eyes, so much so that it takes him a moment to blink the sleepiness out of his eyes and notice that someone was currently curled into him, still sound asleep.

His heart starts racing in his chest when he looks down only to be met with the crown of your head. Your face was pressed against his neck, hidden away from his sight, your slow breaths hitting his skin, chest moving against his. Your arm was draped over his torso and his mirrored yours, keeping each other as close as possible. All he could see, smell and feel was you.

It's not the first or the second time you've shared a bed, he had long since lost count on how many times it had happened for reasons varying from getting only one room at an inn when out on a mission to staying up so late talking that it's easier to just lay down and sleep instead of moving to your own room.

Last night you had fallen asleep in the sitting room when Cassian and Mor's stories had dragged on too long and Azriel ended up bringing you to his room, not wanting to wake you up and fly you down to your house when his bed was always available to you.

He swears he didn't fall asleep so close to you though, and he was also pretty sure that he had tucked you in on the other side of the bed. It seems you had both moved closer in your sleep, seeking each other's warmth, maybe something else.

Azriel was never a huge fan of cuddling, letting someone that close was too hard for him, it felt too intimate, too raw, but that was never the case with you. He had never worried when you hugged him close, or reached for his scarred hand, carded your fingers through his hair with a beautiful smile playing at your lips, even now, when you're hugging each other so close it's hard to see where one ends and the other begins, he felt totally at ease.

The only thing he couldn't understand was the tremble in his chest, and the hesitation when he realized he needed to get up if he wanted to spar with Cassian. He was still trying to understand it when you started stirring, pressing your face even closer to him as a soft whine escaped you.

You were so close that he could feel your eyelashes caressing his skin as you tried to blink the sleep away, and the way your body immediately tenses up when you realize the position you were in, your heart racing as fast as his when you slowly push away from him, his arm tightening around your waist before his mind catches up to what he's doing.

Azriel had always known you were beautiful, exceedingly so, but when you looked up at him, eyes a bit wide and a sheepish smile tugging at your lips, the world seemed to stand still. How did it take him this long to notice?

“I'm sorry,” you whisper, voice still heavy with sleep. You try to move away again, but his arm only brings you closer, your eyes widening as you stare into his.

“What for?”

Azriel swears he could feel the shiver running down your spine when you hear his voice. Cauldron, he had been so blind. He cups your cheek, his thumb caressing your soft skin softly, your hand touching his chest, undoubtedly feeling the way his heart skips as he watches your face.

“For clinging to you,” you murmur. It sounded more like a question, like you expected his reaction to be different and didn't quite know what to do now.

Azriel only offers you a small smile, pulling you in closer and nuzzling into your hair, it widens when he feels your body relax against his, hugging him closer as well. Maybe he should try sleeping in for once, practice wasn't worth crawling out of bed for, certainly not worth not having you in his arms - he was starting to think nothing was.

“I'm the one clinging to you.”

[helen-with-an-a]

Waking Up

Thank you so much for this request anon - I would love to write some more soft/non-smut fluff for my favourite girls so please let me know of some ideas.

This is the answer to the 1st part of this ask (waking up on a day off); the answer to the question Do Ale and Amor ever try to hide their relationship is here.

Beautiful Girl masterlist

Alexia Putellas x reader

Description: R and Ale wake up on an off day

Word Count: 2.6k

Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window, dust mites dancing in the cool morning air as you woke. The golden beams of light stretched across the floor, warming the wooden planks and casting long, playful shadows. The soft, translucent curtain fluttered gently with each whisper of the breeze. The sky beyond the window was a soft, pastel blue, with a few wispy clouds lazily drifting by. A vase of wildflowers on the windowsill caught the light, their petals glowing in hues of lavender and yellow. The intricate pattern of the quilt spread over the bed mirrored the soft, dappled sunlight, and the faint scent of jasmine from the neighbours below carried into the room. The occasional chirp of a bird punctuated the serene stillness.

You peeked over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of tousled brown roots that fanned out across the pillow, a few stray strands tickling your neck. The sight made you smile softly as you shifted, savouring the steady rise and fall of her chest pressed against your back. Her breath, slow and even, stirred the hair at the nape of your neck, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

Just as you sank deeper into her embrace, Alexia's arm tightened subconsciously, her fingers flexing against your waist. The slight pressure sent a surge of warmth through you, drawing you impossibly closer until there was no space left between your bodies. Her leg curled slightly over yours, letting her warmth seep into you It was as if the world outside had ceased to exist; there was no rush, no sound, only the sanctuary of her arms and the steady, soothing rhythm of her breathing against your back.

Falling back asleep was easy. The soft light filtering through the curtains painted the room in a warm glow. For once, there were no pressing alarms, no meetings or hurried schedules looming over your morning. The world outside could wait, muffled and distant as if time itself had chosen to pause for you. It was just you and Alexia.

The gentle rise and fall of her breathing created a lullaby, one that called you to let go and sink deeper into rest. You could feel the faint press of her lips at the back of your neck and it made your chest swell with a warmth that felt almost sacred. You had never experienced this level of love before. This type of all-consuming peace that radiated across every part of you.

The quiet, unhurried intimacy was a luxury you rarely afforded yourself. In this moment, surrounded by the soft rustling of the sheets and the comfort of Alexia, everything else fell away. There was no rush, no lingering list of tasks waiting to pull you from this haven. Just the shared, gentle rhythm of two bodies at ease, cradled in the silence of a morning meant just for you both.

You woke again to the distant, jarring sound of cars blaring outside, their insistent honks and rumbling engines cutting through the morning stillness. A groan escaped your lips, a low, frustrated sound as sleep slipped from your grasp like sand through your fingertips. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to cling to the remnants of the dream you could no longer remember, willing sleep to pull you back under its gentle spell. But with each passing second, the chaotic city sounds pressed harder against the thin veil of calm, and you knew it was useless.

You sighed, a deep, resigned exhale that released the tension knotting in your chest. But as the annoyance began to settle, you became more aware of the warmth wrapped around you. Alexia’s arm still rested across your waist, her hand relaxed and fingers slightly curled. She had fallen asleep holding you, and it brought a smile to your lips to see that she had refused to let go even in dreams.

There were definitely worse ways to wake up on an off day than protected in Alexia’s embrace, her body moulding perfectly to yours as if it were made to fit. The outside world might roar, but here, wrapped in her arms, it felt irrelevant.

You shifted slightly, rolling your shoulders and arching your back to stretch out the kinks that had formed overnight. The sheets rustled softly, the faint sound blending with the morning hum outside. A sleepy groan came from behind you, followed by a murmur as Alexia stirred. “Deja de moverte,” she muttered, her voice thick with sleep, the words half-lost in the drowsy slur of her accent. The soft command made you smile, knowing she was somewhere in that delicious space between dreams and waking.

“Sorry, beautiful girl,” you whispered. You squeezed her hand, where it rested over your waist, your fingers entwining gently in an unspoken apology. You shuffled back a little, pressing yourself into her, feeling the solid line of her body with a contented sigh.

“Dormir,” she announced, the word barely more than a puff of breath as she inhaled sharply, the intake tickling the fine hairs at the nape of your neck. The moment hung in the air, suspended between wakefulness and sleep, as she nestled her face deeper against you, her nose brushing your skin. You could feel the heat of her lips pressed lightly to your shoulder; a fleeting touch that made your chest tighten with affection.

“Sí, baby. Go back to sleep,” you murmured, letting your voice dip low and soft, an invitation for peace to settle over her again. The steady, familiar rhythm of her breathing slowed, and you felt her muscles relax, her body sinking against yours in complete trust. You let yourself fall back into the quiet, content to lie there in the warmth of Alexia’s embrace.

You may have dozed off again, though it was hard to tell. The line between sleep and wakefulness blurred as you lay there. Either way, it didn’t matter. You felt thoroughly relaxed, you had the love of your life wrapped around you and nothing to do today. The room held a stillness that felt sacred, a break from the hurricane that had swept you both up for far too long.

This was what you needed – what both of you needed. Alexia had been going non-stop for months, caught up in a relentless cycle of training, travel, and the never-ending demands. You could see it in the deepening shadows under her eyes, in the way her laughter had become a little less frequent, a little more strained. And you weren’t doing much better. The telltale signs were there in the way your muscles ached as soon as you woke up, the dull throb in your temples after not enough sleep. You knew it all too well – the physical toll your body endured and the mental strain that bit away at the edges.

A day spent in bed, wrapped up together, was just what the doctor ordered. No alarms, no calls, no one pulling you away from this small slice of serenity. Just the two of you, tucked away from the world, with nothing to do but exist. You shifted slightly, the feel of Alexia’s arm tightening instinctively around your waist as she murmured something incoherent, still fast asleep. It brought a soft smile to your lips, knowing she was letting herself rest for once.

As you lay there, feeling her warmth seeping into you, the tension in your body. Muscles unwinding in a way they hadn’t in weeks. Wrapped up in a mix of coconut and vanilla, the world didn't seem too bad. With Alexia next to you, you alway felt unstoppable. Whether it was on the pitch, in the gym, meeting fans or simply going to the shops, with her by your side, you always felt able to do anything. Her presence alone was enough to make you feel like you were capable.

You felt Alexia stir behind you, her body shifting as she began to wake. A sharp intake of breath brushed warmly against your shoulder, followed by the familiar, comforting pressure of her arm tightening around your waist once again. It was the unmistakable sign that she was returning from the hazy world of dreams, rejoining you in the quiet late morning.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, the sound deep and contented, resonating against your skin. “Bon dia, amor meu” she whispered, her voice still rough with sleep. The words were accompanied by the soft press of her lips, fluttering kisses along your bare shoulder, each one a gentle wake-up call.

“Bon dia, my beautiful girl,” you murmured back, your own smile taking shape as you turned your head just enough to catch a glimpse of her face. Her eyes were still heavy, dark lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks as she blinked slowly. The way she looked at you, with a quiet warmth and an unguarded fondness, made your heart swell.

You felt her hand shift, sliding up your stomach with a familiar, lazy grace. Her fingers found their way to rest on your breast, palm pressing gently against your skin. Her thumb stroked absentmindedly over your skin, tracing slow, soothing patterns that made you feel cherished and completely seen in a way that no one else ever had. You let out a small, contented sigh as you settled back into her embrace, arching into her hand ever so slightly.

“Mmmm-w-what time is it?” Alexia asked, her voice still laced with sleep. She nuzzled closer, her breath a warm tickle against your skin as she spoke.

“I have no idea,” you replied happily, chuckling at the idea that for once, you truly had no concept of time. It could have been 6 am or 3pm and you honestly wouldn't have known. And the truth was, you couldn’t have cared less about the time, even if you tried. The rest of the world felt a million miles away, irrelevant compared to this perfect, unhurried moment. You loved this side of Alexia – the side that only you were privileged enough to see. The sleepy, vulnerable version of her who let the day start at its own pace, who tangled her legs with yours and wrapped herself around you.

You loved every side of her, of course. The fierce, determined athlete who moved with a grace that made it seem effortless, the focused leader who inspired others without trying, the thoughtful partner who remembered the smallest details that made you smile. But this was different. This was Ale, the woman who woke up with bedhead that turned into an adorable mess of brown and blonde and whose voice was still scratchy from sleep. The woman who sometimes blinked at you with a soft, sleepy smile before she even opened her eyes fully. This was your beautiful girl.

It was in these moments that you fell in love with her a little bit more every day. The little things – the way she murmured your name when she stirred, the way she let her fingers drift absentmindedly along your skin, the way her incoherent words made you giggle at how endearing she was. You turned your head slightly, enough to catch her gaze, hazel eyes tender affection that made your heart stutter. She smiled, languid and genuine.

“It’s an off day,” Alexia mumbled, her voice still husky as she shifted slightly and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to your jaw. The softness of her lips, the way they brushed your skin made you close your eyes for a moment, savouring the feeling.

“That it is,” you murmured, a small smile curving your lips as you reached up, your fingers finding their way into her hair. You began to scratch lightly at her scalp, your nails grazing her skin with the practised ease that always made her melt. You felt her exhale, a soft, contented sigh against your neck, her body pressing impossibly closer as if she could fuse herself to you if she tried hard enough.

“We have no plans,” she continued, her words slow and deliberate. There was a note of relief in her voice, subtle but undeniable. The outside world could wait – the endless cycle of training, travel, and obligations held no claim over you today. Today was yours.

“That we don’t,” you echoed, your voice soft and steady. The realisation sank deeper into you, a warm glow spreading through your chest.

“Bien,” she whispered, the word slipping out in a satisfied breath.

You turned your head just enough to catch her eyes, their dark depths still soft with sleep. The morning light cast a gentle glow across her features, catching on the curve of her cheek and the loose strands of hair that framed her face. "Sí, muy bien." You smiled.

The minutes ticked by uncounted. This was more than enough; it was everything.

[seungcheorry]

dokyeom isn't the best at confrontations. sure, he knows how to stand up for himself when it's needed, and he knows how to protect you if the moment ever comes, but still - he's not like his seungcheol hyung, for an example.

so dokyeom really debates if he should wake you up or not right now. you're sleeping with puffy eyes, your eyelashes still kinda damp, a sulky expression all across your face. he doesn't like seeing you like that, and the way your fingers are holding your pillow with such strenght makes his heart sink even harder.

"jagi...", dokyeom calls softly, a hand resting on your arm. "jagi, wake up."

you stir in your sleep, opening your eyes with cautious. dokyeom is crouched down in front of you, his whole face wet too as his eyes are just as equally red and puffy as yours. he sniffs, being a little bold and letting his thumb caress your skin.

"i'm sorry to wake you up, but i think we should talk", he calmly says, a contrast of how strong and firm his voice were before.

"right now?", you ask in a bittersweet tone, pulling your arm away so he can't touch you.

dokyeom holds back his tears once again, using the back of his hand to clean the little wet spot under his nose.

"yes, please", he nods. "let's not do this. let's not go to bed angry at each other, please."

you watch as dokyeom looks up at you, his lips pressed together and his whole self looking a little... defeated. you know the make up is always the hardest part for him, his sensitive heart and soul doesn't deal well with the way his anxious mind tell him that you're just about to leave, or that he screwed everything up.

you know because you felt before, the way his hands trumbled and he just listened and listened to you, whispering a few 'i'm sorry' when you had your first big fight. still, even back then, dokyeom had never allowed you to walk away from the place you two were (it didn't matter if it was his place, yours, a random restaurant), and never allowed the fight to escalate further than for two days - and, in his own words, he "almost died several times in those two days".

so of course he wouldn't let you sleep your anger and sadness away either. of course he would find a way to get on your better side again before dawn. that's just who dokyeom is, right?

so what could you possibly tell him, other than...

"of course", and a sigh, patting the bed beside you. "come here."

[happy-raven]

Fuck! I need to stop laughing or I'll wake ny sleeping child!

These two

[liefdesleven]

my dealer: got some straight gas ‼️this strain is called "dust and ashes" 😳 you'll feel a despair for healing you've never felt before 💯

me: yeah whatever. i dont feel shit

5 minutes later: dude i swear that when we fall in love we wake up & we are a god and angels weep

my buddy pierre, pacing: but if i die here tonight, ill die in my sleep

[aethon-recs]

40 Tomarrymort Recs for 2024 — Longfic Edition (Part 3)

Part 3 of 2024 recs! See below for a round-up of some of the most engaging multi-chaptered works/longfics that I came across in this ship in 2024 🤍

As with last year, I found each of these fics, in their depiction of the ship, to be a fresh or surprising take on our familiar beloved characters of Harry and Tom|Voldemort, with an emphasis on underrated fics and/or fics that made me think about the ship in some new way. It's amazing to me that even after 20+ years of writing in this ship, there are still so many new themes and tropes and angles to explore. 

Criteria for this list: multi-chaptered, Tomarrymort-centric, with at least 1 update published in 2024. 

Overall, for 2024, I've split up my year-end recs into 3 parts: (1) Completed Multi-Chapter Fics, (2) One-Shots, (3) WIPs. Here’s the link back to Part 1: Completed Multi-Chapter Fics with 30 fics and Part 2: One-Shots with 30 fics. And with these 40 fics, this wraps up 100 recs for Tomarrymort for 2024!

*

a cool drink of water by @zolpidem105 (E, 10k, WIP)

Harry Potter, an apprentice at Police Scotland, wakes up to find he’s not in his bed.  "Awake? Excellent. We should get going," Tim?—Tom—says from the side, sounding far, far too alert for what Harry feels is catastrophically early in the morning.

A Simple Request by @shyinsunlight (E, 70k, WIP)

Harry can't sleep because of his neighbours' constant fighting, and he ends up falling asleep at work. Tom Riddle, CEO, is not particularly happy.

Accidents happen by @themothatyourdoor (T, 51k, WIP)

Harry must have been London's first accidental sugar daddy.

And the Living Will Envy the Dead by @k-s-morgan (M, 114k, WIP)

When Tom looks at Harry, he feels nothing. Until he does, and then Harry’s world starts drowning in blood.

Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 30k, WIP)

Tom expects to feel victorious at his greatest enemy's confession. Instead, he develops a crush on him.

Auror Potter by @albondiguilla007 (E, 21k, WIP)

Harry Potter is done. He's been in the past for months now, working undercover. Enter Tom Riddle. Impulse control has never been a strong suit of Harry’s, and this mission is proving to be the most difficult one yet.

By Any Means by @corpium (E, 101k, WIP)

Harry Potter will do anything to protect his little brother, whether that means facing the Dursleys' wrath, dogging his brother's footsteps, or taking down the Dark Lord himself. Absolutely anything.

Crush by @chiocchi (T, 4 chapters, WIP)

Tom Riddle doesn't know what it's like to have a crush. So when his heart starts beating fast every time he sees Harry Potter, it can only mean one thing: His instincts are telling him that Harry Potter is a threat that must be eliminated.

Do It Over by @marrythemonstersao3 (T, 57k, WIP)

Harry wakes up on the morning of his eleventh birthday, ready to do things differently this time. He has no grand plans, just the instinct to be close to the man whose soul he shares.

draw me after you (let us run) by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 287k, WIP)

“Harry Potter,” comes the soft, sibilant hiss of a voice he has heard in his dreams, in his nightmares, in his waking hours for years. “It seems I have finally caught you.” 

Echoes by @dracomort (M, 4k, WIP)

Across a thousand worlds, Harry and Tom find each other.

Embryo by @cannibalinc (NR, 112k, WIP)

This is Tom’s destiny, a King among men. No—a god. He need only rise to that which is his for the taking… if only one strange boy weren’t so determined to get in his way.

Hole in the Wall by @elddrmot (E, 77k, WIP)

Voldemort survives the final battle and is imprisoned in Azkaban. After a series of unfortunate events, Harry Potter ends up in the cell next to him.

Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse (M, 90k, WIP)

Harry Potter is a time-travelling, furious mess, and he is going to kill the Dark Lord. Like most of his plans, things do not work out. Tom should not be so obsessed with his would-be murderer.

Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis (E, 595k, WIP)

When Harry Potter cast his first Cruciatus Curse, he was successful. In doing so, he awoke the darkness in his head. It whispers, and it's never wrong. The darkness is hungry, and won’t be denied.

Moon Rite by @isalisewrites (E, 15k, WIP)

Voldemort learned the truth: Harry was his horcrux. With a sudden offer of a ceasefire, the decades long war could be over - lives saved and protected - if Harry swore to one agreement: a magically binding marriage contract with Voldemort himself.

No Glory by @obsidianpen (E, 313k, WIP)

The Dark Lord divines what Harry Potter is in the Forbidden Forest, and revelations lead to incomprehensible consequences. Lord Voldemort has won... and the dystopia is damning.

Of Kings, of Pawns, and of Men by @ambivalens999 (E, 166k, WIP)

When Harry succumbs to dementors in Little Whinging, the last thing he expects is to wake and find Tom Riddle’s face staring back at him in the mirror. It only goes downhill from there.

of various storms and saints by MaidenMotherCrone (E, 36k, WIP)

“I am the last Lector. I am my people’s very last hope,” Harry bites out through the teeth of his fury. He is done throwing curses and spells. He is reduced to this, divine rage.  And then, Voldemort is there, looming and dark and great and terrible. “And I will stamp it out.”

One Year In Every Ten by @saintsenara (E, 207k, WIP)

A decade after the final battle, just when the wizarding world thinks itself safe, a serial killer emerges, leaving a trail of dead women in his wake. Each of the bodies bears a gruesome message for the Aurors. A message which claims the Dark Lord has risen again.

Reckless Cartography by @meles-merrivale (M, 39k, WIP)

Featuring Harry and Tom attending Hogwarts together and slowly ruining each other’s lives.

Revolution of Configured Stars by @tollingreminiscentbells (E, 162k, WIP)

In another world, Harry Potter was spared. Raised in Lord Voldemort's Britain, he enters his seventh year wanting to keep his head down. But after a chance encounter with ‘Marvolo Gaunt’, it looks like it may not be so simple.

Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear (E, 70k, WIP)

The moment Harry is struck by the killing curse, it’s not death that awaits him, but ascension. A story of faith, obsession, and the burden of divinity.

Seaforth by @kippipies (M, 10k, WIP)

For as long as he can remember, Harry's had a normal life, looking after a precocious child named Tom on an isolated island. But everything in his normal life is shattered when he finds out a terrible truth: that a powerful leader called Voldemort is after him.

Seeing Sand by @valkyrie-chemist (T, 95k, WIP)

Anticipation bubbled in Tom’s stomach as he imagined fear and shock Harry’s green eyes. Eyes that snapped open the instant Tom's hand touched the frame of the hospital bed. Eyes that burned gold.

some like it hot by @duplicitywrites (E, 12k, WIP)

When Tom Riddle applies for an internship at the Ministry of Magic, he is assigned to the Department of Magical Fire Control and Containment, a department that boasts a very impressive headcount of one: Harry Potter.

Strings of Fate by @solelyseeking (E, 58k, WIP)

“When I touch you,” Tom says, bitterness clinging to every syllable, “I feel whole.” Harry might just be the first interesting thing that Tom has ever encountered.

Stygian by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 71k, WIP)

There's a book in Voldemort's private library that can explain this kind of magic. The cover is black and shiny and looks like it's breathing. Harry really wants to take a look at chapter three, no matter what it takes.

Tender Reigns Our Night by noumena (M, 103k, WIP)

Sent on a Ministry mission to fight for magic's survival, Harry goes back in time with two simple objectives: find and destroy any existing Horcruxes, and stop Tom Riddle ever evolving into Voldemort. Harry thus finds himself working alongside Riddle at Borgin and Burke's.

The Longing by @aglassroseneverfades (M, 41k, WIP)

What is possibly most damning of all is that Harry is not thinking of his parents right now as he trudges alongside his companions up to Voldemort’s eerie castle. He is thinking instead, as he often does, of a name that burns too brightly on his wrist in the pre-dawn light.

The Runemaster by @kazisstillawake (E, 43k, WIP)

Harry trips on a rock and leaps through time. 1940s Hogwarts is very different from the home he is familiar with. To make matters worse, he is dumped into Slytherin – Riddle’s territory. But it’s hard to be invisible when you’re a novelty, a new student that knows too much for your own good.

the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3 (E, 47k, WIP)

Harry is sent through time to the relative safety of 1963 and adopted into the Potter family. Now he’s entering his sixth year at Hogwarts in 1976, with a war brewing just outside the school walls. The last thing he needs is to catch the attention of the rising Dark Lord.

The Unintentional Consequences of Prison Reform by @badluck (E, 28k, WIP)

Harry Potter, newly licensed Mind Healer, puts personal history aside to take on his hardest job yet. “Talk to me, please. Give me a chance to make you better.” Lord Voldemort looks downright murderous.

The Word of Your Body by @ictyn (E, 7k, WIP)

“Have you heard from him?” Albus asks. He only means one person when he asks Harry this question. He’s asked it five times in twenty years, and the answer is always the same. The only thing he knows about Tom is that he’s not dead. Harry would know if that happened. He’d feel it beating inside his heart, inside of his very soul.

Timeless by @perhaps-sunlight (E, 3k, WIP)

In which Master of Death Harry Potter time travels to the 1940s, only fixing Tom Riddle isn’t quite what he had in mind.

To the Hilt by @izharmilgram (E, 28k, WIP)

Voldemort had trusted him with the task of bringing Prince Gryffindor under his control, thus securing the future of Gryffindor within their hands. Tom would do so easily—the prince was a mere omega, docile and sweet, easily swayed—and then Gryffindor Kingdom would be folded into the Slytherin Dynasty. He would prove himself undoubtedly useful, and Voldemort would finally let him rule at his side.

Venom or Valor by @lightningant (M, 52k, WIP)

20 years old and unemployed, Harry decides to use a time turner to travel to 1946. But what he finds isn’t the proud, charismatic Dark-Lord-To-Be, but a neurotic 19-year-old Tom Riddle living quietly in the tiny flat that his retail job barely pays for, isolated and addled by chronic illness.

we made universes out of bitten lips and broken hands by @boyneptunee (M, 68k, WIP)

Seer Harry who tries to write his own future, fuck prophesies and mastermind darklords and evil teachers. He will live his life, and he will enjoy it, dammit. Oh, and there's also Tom Riddle.

What In Me Is Dark, Illumine by @telelli-writes (M, 80k, WIP)

There was a new transfer student, Tom observed at the Start-of-Term Feast as he idly twisted the Gaunt ring around his finger. Featuring a schoolboy on the precipice of becoming a monster, a powerful and mysterious newcomer to Hogwarts, and an initial spark of interest that becomes an obsession.

With a resolute heart by Act_Naturally (M, 243k, WIP)

Triwizard Tournament, but Hunger Games: Tom Riddle needs to win to fulfill his plans. Cedric Diggory wants to make his family proud. Hermione wants her friends to survive. Harry wants a lot of things, including Tom Riddle. 

you speak of the devil (like he's not your friend) by @amuria (M, 64k, WIP)

When Harry wakes a seventeen-year-old Tom Riddle from the Gaunt's Ring, it is to a world where his future self has achieved none of their goals except one. Harry is proof that he's a great wizard after all.

*

[newrochellechallenger2019]

girl dad!patrick zweig headcanons ౨ৎ

girl dad!patrick zweig who immediately turned his life around when he found out you were pregnant, becoming a father was the wake-up call he needed, retiring from tennis and working for his parents.

girl dad!patrick zweig who decorated the entire nursery while you were sleeping, swearing he'd only paint the walls ('yellow! it's a neutral colour!') but stayed up all night to make it perfect for her.

girl dad!patrick zweig who sets up an investment portfolio before she's even born, setting up a college fund and lining up stocks and shares thanks to his parent's money.

girl dad!patrick zweig who dedicates a good chunk of your pregnancy on learning how to braid hair and accidentally becomes the go-to parent for braids at school sports events.

girl dad!patrick zweig who gifts your daughter a tennis racket for her first birthday, he couldn't help himself and as she grows up, becomes her personal tennis coach till she says she wants to do ballet instead and he finds himself in a world of tutus and recitals but never misses a single performance!

girl dad!patrick zweig who teaches her affirmations and makes her say them in the mirror every morning, ('i am loved, i am kind, i am beautiful, i am gentle')

girl dad!patrick zweig who sends your daughter to pester you for a takeaway when he's the one who wants it because he knows you can't resist her

girl dad!patrick zweig who gets her a puppy to teach her responsibility but ends up doing all the work but doesn't really mind because he secretly loves the dog too, getting a second dog because ('he needs a friend!')

girl dad!patrick zweig who is blindly supportive, your teen daughter's heading to a party, ('what do you think about her skirt?' 'i think it looks great, honey!'), not realising it's much too short.

[nor7us]

Really struggling with this.

My Problem being that i wake and stand up incredibly inconsistently. There seems to be no pattern, even relating to my bedtime, of when I actually stand up.

Going to bed, I really struggle with revenge bedtime procrastination. Most days, I go to bed at like eleven, but 12 is no exception. Every morning, my alarm rings at 6:40; which is partly a relic from school where i had to stand up 7:10 latest. And in school that worked. After the initial alarm, I would continuously set 3-5 min Timers on my phone, until I felt ready to get up.

But now in University; there is no fixed schedule. I have to get up at 7:00 mondays and 8:50 Fridays, and all other days of the week it does not matter. This leads to me being like: oh yeah i dont need to set a 5min timer, I can just get up later because I am still sleepy. So I get up at 11, which of course ruins the whole day of studying. In the evening, I usually have by far my most productive phase, which leads to me studying late and going to bed late. Of course this continuously shifts back my sleep schedule, up until twice a week I either have 5 hours of sleep or face consequences for being late.

This is shit. To fix this, I tried to just set a hellton of alarms, so I don't have the option to not "hit the snooze button" (set a timer on my phone) but instead of bettering myself, I completely laid off the reflex / mechanic / habit of setting said timers. Meaning that I ignore all those alarms, and when I tried going back to setting timers I just straight up did not in my sleepy states.

Little improvements are hard. Going to bed very consistently is hard, and ruins your social life. Setting the goal of getting up "5 minutes earlier" is great until you realize: 5 minutes ealier than what? I go to bed at a different time each day. Sometimes there is schoolwork or similar in the way that just has to be done.

I feel like I am missing the point here; "Think smaller" they said, but what would that be and how would I measure it?

Life is hard without an authoritative figure that throws you out of bed if you overslept.

Life is hard as a person, whose sleepy self has no self control, but also does not (rarely) have to fear consequences.

Life is hard.

Do I even want to be a student right now?

here's some more unsolicited adult advice as someone in her 30s who knows there are a lot of twenty somethings and teens that follow her: if you're trying to build a new habit you really want, and are struggling, you have to break it down to the smallest building block possible. If you're failing, you haven't thought small enough. I know it's possible to hear stories of people who just snapped into new life mode one day by "just deciding", but truly what's happening there is a confluence of events and experiences that force the brain into some sort of epiphany. You cannot will an epiphany. It'll never work. For most times of your life, you will need to build habits intentionally, and that means not working against yourself and to set micro goals. like laughably tiny goals. because once that easy tiny goal is met, you can build off it, tiny goal after tiny goal until you reach your big goal.

so for example, if you want to be a morning person that gets up at ass crack dawn so that you can work out, eat brekkie, shower, and get to work at a leisurely pace, and you're not that person because you will hit your snooze button 800 times, you have to get the big picture goal out of your head. think smaller. "I want to get up 15 minutes earlier than I normally do." If you can't do that, make it 5 minutes. "I want to cook breakfast every day" hell no too big. "I want to eat something, anything, before I leave the house" hell yeah, fantastic. When you go to the grocery store to make sure there are things in the house for breakfast, if you keep buying bagels and microwave sandwiches that you ignore, you gotta think smaller. SMALLER. What's something so easy to eat that you'll never say no to. Is it a yogurt? Is it a handful of grapes? Is it a hostess ho ho? is it hot cheetos? FORGET the big picture of the fantasy put-together woman preparing a full nutritious meal that you'd be proud to admit to. Think only of the smallest goal you can achieve. If you know you can't say no to an ice cream sandwich, put a ton of ice cream sandwiches in your freezer and have one for breakfast every day until it's so instilled in you that you gotta get up to eat something you can start diversifying.

It sounds like, from the lack of habit place, that must take forever. But really it doesn't take too long to form the habit once the discipline kicks in. the trick is that you have to give your brain something easy to become disciplined to. If it's too hard, think easier and smaller. No one has to know. Literally no one in the gd world has to know that for 4 weeks when you were 22 you had an ice cream sandwich for breakfast every day. who cares. If it gets you eating oatmeal with fresh fruit in a few months who cares. you did it, yay. smaller, easier. if you can't do it, think smaller and easier. smaller!! EASIER!!! You are not thinking smaller and easier enough. break your brain thinking how small and easy you can go. SMALLER. EVEN SMALLER, SIS.

[adore-laur]

Omgg I would love to see different times dadrry gets protective !! Like I can so see him being one of those dads that set boundaries the first time the baby is being introduced to family. He’d be like “no kissing on the face, no taking her away from mom without asking her first and wash your hands before holding her” etc etc. Or him getting defensive when people start to pity him when they find out he’s having a third girl and he gets annoyed and defends his girls 😭😭

Also ofc need to say your dadrry series is the best thing ever I still have tumblr solely to read your writing ☺️☺️

PROTECTOR

——

Pacific loons wailed hauntingly near the shoreline as you sat in the patio's swing chair, listening to the sundry sounds of nature. The oceanic view was a calm presence, one that often lulled you into a hypnotic trance with the endless ebb of waves and the horizon's dying light. Above the railing, brass wind chimes produced a plinking melody in the wind. The atmosphere of home engulfed you like a warm hug.

It was a moment of serenity while Harry went on a grocery run with the girls. He had offered to take the after work, and it was sweet of him to give you time to decompress after parenting alone all day. Plus, it got them out of the house. You would usually be able to take them somewhere for fresh air and fun sights to see, but pregnancy fatigue prevented any hopes of traveling past the front door.

A month had elapsed since you surprised Harry with the news of a third baby. Two weeks since you both had found out it was a girl. In that time, life had coasted by blissfully between the routine of working part-time, daycare drop-off and pick-up, and bonding with your little family over the weekend.

As much as you cherished the hustle and bustle, it was necessary to prioritize personal time. Sometimes it came in the form of sinking into a hot bath, venturing to the beach with a novel, or catching up on much-needed sleep. Today, it consisted of feeling the breeze pass through your hair and appreciating the beauty of southern California.

It would be easy to fall asleep out here. The crashing waves, birdsong, and rustling trees were a lullaby. But you knew the moment you closed your eyes, you would miss the last streaks of the sunset, with its delicate wisps and golden clouds. So you shifted slightly to wake your limbs that were becoming jelly-like, and as you did, the blanket previously draped across your collarbones pooled into your lap. You stared down at it, smiling. The bedroom's storage ottoman held approximately a dozen different blankets, all with some sort of sentimental value attached to them. The crocheted quilt your first daughter had come home from the hospital with; the heated one with Mom embroidered on it; the oversized fleece one Harry liked to specifically use for cuddling either you or his girls.

The one you had chosen for your peaceful patio time was a ragged, faded patchwork quilt that Harry had kept (possibly stole) from the walk-up apartment you lived in together nearly eight years ago. It had watched your love for him grow beyond your wildest dreams. Had seen moments of rib-aching laughter, frustrated tears, pain and passion, and a commitment that would always withstand rough waters. Neither of you had wanted to part with that blanket, so now it stayed in a special place in the home that had once been a far-fetched fantasy.

As your fingers plucked loose threads from the fabric, you felt your phone vibrate with an incoming call. It was hidden somewhere under the thick blanket, and after a moment of searching, you picked it up and looked at the screen. It was Harry, made evident by his contact photo—a family picture on the Temescal Canyon Trail, your youngest strapped to your chest in a carrier and Harry carrying your oldest on his shoulders. A generous elderly couple had offered to take it, with the stunning backdrop of the expansive coastline. You especially loved the picture because it showed off Harry's legs in his athletic shorts, all long and tanned.

"Hey," you answered, assuming he was calling from the grocery store. He often did with ideas for meals or questions about kiddie snacks. Sometimes he'd ask what desserts you were craving, and then he'd spoil you by bringing home more than you could even fathom eating.

"Hi, baby," he said, sounding winded. "Can you unlock the door for me? Both girls are out like a light in my arms."

"Oh!" you said, not expecting him back so soon. Nature's hypnosis made you lose track of time. "Okay, I'll be right there."

"Thank you. I'd hang up, but my phone is balancing rather precariously on my shoulder."

You laughed and hung up for him, then untangled yourself from the cozy confines of the swing chair before heading inside. You were careful to hop over the dolls and picture books and blocks scattered across the living room carpet.

When you reached the front door and opened it slowly, your heart melted. Harry stood there holding one daughter on each hip, their little bodies slumped against him as they slept. You could tell your youngest was in a deep sleep. Your eldest, though, was definitely pretending so she could be carried inside like a princess. The sunset's pink light peeked into the garage and softened Harry's handsome features ethereally. Who else could look this good after grocery shopping?

"We're home," he whispered, and those two simple words filled your heart with an unspeakable amount of happiness.

"I'll help put stuff away," you replied quietly, taking his phone to relieve him from his uncomfortable position. "You go tuck the girls in." It was nearing their bedtime anyway, so better to take advantage of a smooth transition.

Harry smiled with that attentive look on his face, then bent to tenderly kiss the sweet spot on your neck. "You're glowing," he murmured in your ear, then walked past you, leaving your cheeks flushing like a besotted teenager.

Once the groceries were put away and the kids were down for the night, you and Harry went to relax in the bedroom. The sky was now devoid of color with stars twinkling faintly, and the full moon spilled its light through the bay window.

You were already in your pajamas, collapsing onto the comforter, when Harry asked, "How was your day?" He shut the closet light off, dressed in just a T-shirt and black boxers. There were those legs again, the lean muscles a feast for your eyes.

"Mellow," you said. "We stayed inside mostly. Morning sickness has been kicking my ass."

"Good thing you didn't have to work today."

You nodded. That was the nice part about working part-time and partially from home—it allowed for the freedom to be with the kids more often. You didn't mind taking them to daycare, especially since it was imperative for socialization, but it lessened your anxiety when you had them under your supervision. It was a suitable balance.

"Did everyone behave at the store?" you asked, sliding your socks off under the sheets.

"Yeah. No tantrums." Harry raised his eyebrows proudly, and you both shared an air-five. "They seemed knackered. Slept all the way home."

"I tried my best to tire them out."

"Well, you succeeded," he said appreciatively, then joined you in bed, stretching his limbs. You were so thankful for his diligence. To work ten hours and then parent to take some responsibility off your plate was admired more than you could ever put into words.

Harry reached his hand over to the nightstand to resume the book he'd been engrossed in recently but paused and turned to you instead. "Can I gossip with you?" he asked.

You quirked your brows. "What happened?"

He breathed deeply and stared into the distance. "So, I was in the cereal aisle, right?"

You laughed while cuddling up to him. "This is juicy so far."

"It's not even gossip, really," he said. "Just something that irked me."

"Please continue."

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and painted a picture of the scene. "I had the girls sitting in the shopping cart, and an old lady nearby started fawning over them. Which is fine, because they're adorable. Anyway, she started asking a bunch of questions. How old they are, what their personalities are like. Somehow I accidentally let it slip that we have a third one on the way, and I know we're telling our families next week, but I got caught up in the conversation and—"

"You're so bad at keeping secrets," you interrupted with a good-natured groan.

Harry kissed your forehead apologetically. "The worst. So, the lady had the audacity to act all surprised that I was going to be a father of three girls. Gave me a face like she pitied me. And then guess what she said..."

"I assume something mildly offensive," you replied.

"She goes, 'I bet you were hoping for a boy. To bring some balance to your home.'"

You scoffed and said, "More like chaos. What did she even mean by that?"

He shook his head, equally puzzled. "I don't know, but I just said, 'I'm very happy with my life,' then grabbed a box of Cocoa Puffs and went on with my day."

You frowned. "Why do some people think having daughters is such a burden?" It was mind-boggling. They had taught you so much and would continue to as they grew and spread their wings. It was your purpose to shape them into resilient, kind, and empathetic women. What a beautiful honor anyone would be lucky to experience.

"I'll never understand," Harry mused, locking eyes with you. "It's the most..." He trailed off with an emotional smile, and you stroked his cheek, letting him take his time. It wasn't often you or he could speak so rawly about the life you'd created together. "It's just the best feeling imaginable, you know? I can't describe it. All I know is that I wouldn't want it any other way."

You softly kissed him, feeling the sincerity of his words in the way he gracefully slipped his tongue past yours. With your palm still cradling his cheek, you halted his kisses using your thumb to say, "You're this family's heartbeat."

His lustful green eyes opened, his pupils dilating as if absorbing your admission. "If I'm the heartbeat, then you're the lungs."

"Sweet-talker," you teased.

"You started this love fest."

After a stretch of comfortable silence, Harry settled his hand on your small bump, a warm and knowing touch. "Please don't think I'm waiting on a son," he said.

You snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. I know more than anyone else how much you wanted daughters. You told me during our first date."

"I did?"

"We talked each other's ears off that night about our futures. The universe must have been listening." The conversation was burned into your brain. In that dim oceanside restaurant, you had known he was a keeper.

"Yeah," Harry whispered, kissing all over your stomach, leaving no skin unmarked by his gentle lips. He then rested his head in your lap. "I can't wait to meet her."

You hummed. "Have you ever thought about what she'll be like?"

"A combination of all four of us."

A ghost of a smile spread on your lips. "We're going to have our hands full then."

"I'm ready."

"I know you are," you said while playing with his hair. "That's why I chose you."

He was a protector, down to the fibers of his being. You didn't have to be in the room for him to remind the world of his devotion to being your husband. To being a father. He laid it all bare, and you could only hope that it would be passed down to your daughters like an heirloom blanket.

——