As a mixed person, THANK YOU! I am half white and half Filipina and have experienced others make assumptions plenty of times. Us mixed people often struggle with identity because we contemplate if we belong. We often feel that disconnect to part of ourselves, and people making assumptions can just make it worse.
For me, I’m light skined from my white side and but have that more South-East Asian look from my Filipina side. So I look mixed but I can often pass as white. I often struggle with my self identity, I’m simply me but I feel like I am more. But that sense of ‘more’ can be shut down when I’m asked “what are you?” Like I’m a human. I’d prefer if people asked me nicely and did not assume things.
I once got degraded on the street by a older Filipino man because I could not speak Tagalog. I was never taught by my Filipina mother because my white father had always said I would “never need it”. I am definitely whitewashed, but little things like this can make my struggle with identity much harder.
Again, thank you for this post. I love your blog so much and I appreciate you speaking your mind on this subject.
This isn’t like, specifically a fandom or media thing, but I’m kind of tired of the way people discuss (or often don’t discuss) multi-racial or multi-ethnic identities. Mixed people are literally so diverse and no two of us are going to have the exact same experiences. I remember once during class (I don’t remember what the exact topic or whatever was, but I think it was a writing class) we were discussing an article written about a mixed-race woman (I believe white/black) and everyone was just repeatedly referring to her as a black woman. And I didn’t say anything at the time because I was uncomfortable and I’m bad at speaking up for things that make me uncomfortable. But now I wish I had. Because maybe she thought of herself as a black woman, but none of us knew whether or not she did.
And like. I’m half-black, half-white, and I would be extremely uncomfortable if someone referred to me as a black woman. Because 1) I don’t look black. Straight-up, if you just looked at my face you would never assume I was black or part-black. I know because many people have guessed or assumed my race and they have never gotten it right. I am Ambiguously Brown. 2) I was raised by my mom, who’s white, and there are a lot of gaps in my knowledge of African-American history and culture (part of this is also a failure on the part of the American education system but what else is new). One of my friends and I (also a multi-racial woman, though not the same as me) used to joke that we were basic half-white bitches. No I would not be comfortable if someone who wasn’t a close friend, or if someone who wasn’t mixed, tried to do this with me. 3) Even if the first two weren’t true, I’m not black. I’m part black, and all aspects of my race are important to me, not just the ones that are most “obvious” to other people.
And that’s part of my biggest problem like this - people making assumptions about other mixed people’s experience with their identity. The first one that comes to mind is Keanu Reeves. I’ve definitely seen people make jokes about him being a popular unproblematic internet white guy - but he’s not white. He’s part white, part Chinese, part Hawaiian (his name is literally Hawaiian). And I can feel people rolling their eyes that it doesn’t matter or he still has privilege, so it doesn’t “count”. And I won’t deny that he may have privilege because of his appearance, but it is not your place to say that other people’s identity doesn’t count. You don’t live in other people’s brains, and you don’t know how he relates to his identity. You don’t know his experience. You don’t know how it’s affected him - or how assumptions like that affect him. This also goes for people on the opposite end of the spectrum, like my high school friend “Dimitri”, who was part black, part Native, and people typically assumed he was black. I wish now that we’d talked about this together - I don’t know how it affected him, but I do know how other people’s assumptions can affect you.
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GO FOLLOW MY REBLOGGING FANFIC BLOG PLSSSSSSS
Reblogging fanfics to support my fellow fanfic writers!
Reblogging means the world to us creators on Tumblr. It allows our posts and work to reach more people. So I decided that my consumption of fanfiction on here will now always be reblogged on this new blog. I will share my thoughts on what I read and recommend the works I come across. I know one little reblog can mean the world to someone, so this is the least I can do.
Follow for the sharing of the AMAZING fanfics and stories that I come across!
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A Shaking Struggle
Pairing: Doctor Strange X Reader (gender neutral)
Description: It’s lunch date time and you pick to go to a Japanese restaurant for sushi. But there is one problem: because of his hands, Stephen can’t use chopsticks.
Warnings: light swearing
Word Count: 1.6K
A/N: THE IDEA FOR THIS HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK AND I NEEDED TO WRITE IT ASAP! IM ACTUALLY SOBBING AT HOW ADORABLLY EMBARESSED HE WOULD BE! Enjoy lol. Also special thanks to my friend Hailey for being my beta reader for this one <3
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
Walking through Greenwich Village always gave you excitement, knowing that the New York sanctum was in the area. It was also just a generally nice place to be in the city, so walking on your own to go see Stephen was always relatively peaceful. As you walked, the afternoon sun added warmth to your enthusiasm. Pretty soon you could see the sanctum in the distance, the recognizable window on the roof standing out among the other buildings. After a few minutes, you found yourself on its doorstep ready for your lunch date with its protector.
You woke up to a text from him that morning which said: I’m off in the afternoon, lunch?
No “good morning” or no “how are you this morning?”. Blunt and straight to the point, but still with his charm. You had laughed at it and replied with a simple Okay! and made sure your afternoon was cleared. Most of the time the doctor was occupied with his mystical work, but when free time came up for him he would let you know right away and ask you to hang out.
Before you could knock, you were suddenly already inside with a rush of wind. The split second of confusion passed once you realized you were in Stephen’s office, finding him at his desk behind a book and a cup of tea wearing casual clothes. You regained your balance and held back a laugh.
“Hi!” He said with that cheeky smile, looking like he did not just teleport you from the front door into his office.
“I thought I told you not to do that,” You said, the laugh in your voice coming through. “It’s dizzying.”
“Well, it’s funny.” He gave you an innocent look, one that you could not resist smiling at.
“So, you ready for lunch?”
“Yeah, I just finished up some reading.” He closed the book and put it on a tall stack on the edge of his desk. “Where do you want to go?” He asked before taking a sip of his tea.
“Oh! There’s a sushi restaurant just down the street that I haven’t been to. I heard it’s really good!”
Stephen sputtered into his teacup. A sudden jerk to his hand added to the event, his shaking hand giving out and forcing him to put down the cup. You watched a little tea splash out onto the desk. He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Stephen looked back up at you, “Yeah, I’m good. Sure, sushi. Let’s go!”
You smiled at him and held back a little noise of excitement. He got up from his desk and came to join you, casually offering you a hand and saying “Lead the way,” before you pulled him off to exit his office and back out into the busy street.
A bowl of miso soup sat in front of Stephen. He had abandoned the spoon and resorted to drinking it right out of the bowl, which he saw you doing as well which brought a feeling of comfort. Staring down at it, he saw his own reflection on the surface thanks to the lighting of the restaurant. It was like staring down into a bowl of his own shame and insecurity.
When you had suggested sushi, Stephen tried not to choke on his drink. Sushi, Japanese restaurant, Asian food. Insecurity had overcome him in a wave. He liked Asian food, loved it, but he did not want to eat it in front of someone else. But he didn’t want to say no to you. The look of excitement in your eyes was something he never wanted to say no to. You looked like you really wanted sushi. So he decided that he had to suck it up.
He tried to distract himself. Talking with you was the best thing he could do for himself, hearing you talk eased him slightly. But he found himself zoning out, forgetting what he had asked you mere seconds ago and some of your words not making sense to him.
Stephen had always been a tad insecure about his shaking hands, often forgetting about it thanks to his mystical work. But he had never been so overcome with the feeling until now. When he was in front of the person that he was so smitten with, one that he wanted to impress and charm.
But the little paper package that was sitting on the table to his right was not going to let him impress you today.
The focus that it requires to steady his hands with magic was difficult to do when he was as nervous as he felt now. Just the presence of you was throwing things off as well, so your existence was not helping at all.
He was a master of the mystic arts and he could not steady his hands because he was too nervous. Goddammit, he thought.
“I’ve been feeling so tired, work hasn’t been kind to me.”
Stephen looked up at you and pretended like he heard everything you said. He nodded while taking another sip of his soup. He tried so hard to naturally steady his hand around the little bowl, but somehow, his hands shook harder. He desperately tried not to spill the soup.
Stephen was caught off guard, “Hmm?”
“You seem tired, too.”
“Oh, yeah. I am. Been busy. Uh, things have been crazy.”
Stephen began to talk about a few things that had come up for him recently. Seeing you genuinely interested in what he was saying, resting your chin on your palm while looking up at him with sweet eyes, was enough to ease his nerves just a little. And the talking helped as well, he made sure to exaggerate just a tiny bit to stroke his own ego.
But then a waiter came over with your orders of food. A litter verity of maki rolls, some nigiri pieces, and tempera pieces in a little basket. The way your eyes lit up made Stephen smile, but there was a hint of hesitation on his face.
Any trace of comfort was gone from him and you were already opening your packet of chopsticks.
Shit, he thought.
He went to pick up his own.
You were so hungry and so excited that you already had your chopsticks ready. Everything looked so good you did not know where to start. You looked between everything, “Okay, what one do we try first?”
You heard the clatter of wood on the table. Looking across the table, Stephen had dropped his chopsticks. There was this look of dread on his face. He then quickly picked them back up again, tore the two sticks apart with a frustrated jerk, and tried to place them in the correct position between his fingers.
He was struggling to even hold them.
Then you realized that for all the time you have known this man, from dating for a couple of months to the time of being friends before that, you have never seen this man with a pair of chopsticks. The reason was obvious once you remembered the state of his hands.
“Do you... do you need some help there?” You asked, words laced with a laugh that threatened to burst out.
“No no, I’m fine.”
You could tell that it was not fine.
He had managed to place each of the sticks in a correct and comfortable position, but it looked like it took some effort to even keep them in place. You seriously doubted he could pick something up with those.
“You sure?” You asked, trying oh so hard not to laugh.
Stephen let out a heavy sigh and put the chopsticks down. “Okay, I promise you I know how to use chopsticks. I just avoid them cause it’s not fun watching me struggle,”
“You could have just told me,” You replied, still desperately holding in a laugh. But the smirk and growing smile on your face was betraying you.
“Cause it’s embarrassing,” He said in a low tone, rubbing his forehead in the self-annoyance.
This poor man had this look in his blue eyes resembling that of a helpless puppy.
“Stephen, it’s okay. You can use your hands. It’s actually considered alright.” You giggled. You put your chopsticks down and picked up a roll with your fingers, just to make him feel more comfortable.
He sighed relief and a weight was visibly lifted from his shoulders. You had not noticed the tightness to him until it was gone, you assumed it was from him being tired from work. He picked up a roll with his fingers himself and you both tried it together. After mutual agreement of how good the food was, you both continued to chat in-between bites.
“When I was first studying in Kathmandu, I was mostly fine because most food is just eaten with your hands. But when it came to chopsticks, I gave up and resorted to spoons and forks.”
“So you were the white guy eating with a fork?” You snickered.
“Hey, I told you. I know how to use them! I’m just physically challenged, okay.”
You finally let that laugh out and he ended up laughing along with you.
“Wait, aren’t you able to steady your hands a little though? Use a bit of magic?”
“Too nervous. Can’t hold it properly.”
You raised your eyebrow, “Doctor Stephen Strange, nervous? Wow, that’s new.”
“It’s your fault.”
“I make you nervous?”
He shrugged shyly.
You found that fact very amusing. That the person he was dating, you, could make him so nervous and make him fear embarrassing himself in front of could break down his huge ego. He’s the cutest, you thought.
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ANOTHER NOTE FOR TODAY
Or two notes!
One, HAPPY MAY 4TH! I REALLY SHOULD HAVE PLANNED A STAR WARS PIECE FOR TODAY BUT AHHH MAYBE I’LL MAKE MAY STAR WARS MONTH OR SOMETHING. I have so many star wars ideas and requests to do, so maybe for the month of May I’ll release as many as I can. Maybe I’ll call it This Is The May ahahahaha!
Two, I want to make more of my one shots gender neutral to be more inclusive. I will spend some time and go back to see how many of my one shots can be considered gender neutral and make them that way! I decided to do this for all those who want to feel comfortable while reading my work, who may not identify as a fem!reader but still wants to experience my stories.
Thank you, I love you, there is more coming soon!
And may the force be with you <3
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED
I have so many things to work on right now, which includes my ideas for projects as well as a few requests, so I’m gonna be closing requests for now. Writing has been hard for me and I don’t wanna be pressured by anything else coming in. I want to focus on what I want to work on, which will be more fun and hopefully help me get back into writing.
The Agent and Her Sorcerer
Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader
Description: You, an agent who works with The Avengers, comes back to the compound to find that Doctor Strange has brought you coffee.
Warnings: mentions of drinking and doing the dirty
Word Count: 2.4K
A/N: Originally posted on Quotev | Things have been busy, so has mental heath things, so idk when new things will come out. I love this piece tho so I hope this makes up for it.
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
Gif by @cumberbatchlives
Technically a sequel to The Sorcerer and The Agent
When you stepped off the jet and onto the landing, you let out a long breath of relief. That field mission was finally over. It was an early call that got you out of bed before the sun came up. Too early for your body to function, but with the encouragement of coffee and Captain Rogers forcing you out of bed, you conquered the task. You checked your phone for the time, it was now around noon. You were ready to sit down, maybe even take a nap. You desperately needed a break.
But you knew you would not be able to rest.
Tony was already on your ass. He came out of nowhere, scaring the life back into you, and shoved a tablet in your hands. "Before you file your report, you got another one."
You groaned, falling into step beside him to make your way into the building. "Already?"
Tony pushed a few things on your tablet and an image came up. It was one of the objects you had recovered from this morning's mission. On the side was a stream of jumbled letters and numbers.
Tony shrugged, with a grin on his face that you wanted to punch off. "Hey, you're best for the job."
"Can't FRIDAY just run through it?"
"Where's the fun in that?"
You glared at him.
"Come on, you got this."
You rolled your eyes, "Fine. Only because it might give us a new lead."
"Atta girl! Don't stress yourself out."
You were already stressed.
"Oh and by the way, someone in the lounge is here to see you."
After a brief moment of surprise, you knew who it was. Tony saw the smile appear on your face, then winked at you. You rolled your eyes at him.
You tucked the tablet under your arm and made your way to the lounge. Maybe you were getting a little break before continuing for the day after all. A small amount of energy that came from your happiness pushed you forwards.
When you got there, sure enough, there he was.
"Hey, I thought you might want coffee."
You chuckled. Of course you wanted coffee.
Stephen Strange had a coffee tray in his hands that had two cups in it. He was standing around looking a little awkward, a little out of place at the compound. He looked relived to see you, as if anyone else in the doorway would made him embarrassed. His serious demeanor was no where in sight, a hint of warmth in his cheeks.
He wasn't wearing his sorcerer robes, but casual clothes. A jacket, dark jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt, simple things that you got to see him in more often now. You liked it. Very much.
Without any hesitation, you made your way over to him. Giving him a big smile the entire way. You put your tablet down so you could take the cup he was holding out for you. "Thank you." Your gloved hands brushed against his bare shaking ones. The contact was enough to widen your smile.
"Don't mention it."
"Hi! How are you? What's new?" You asked him, leaning one hand on a table and sipping your coffee with the other.
Stephen let out a breath, "Well this morning I helped to try and close a dimensional rip in space time. If we hadn't managed to close it then it would have swallowed an entire country."
"Sounds exciting, Doctor." You hid a smirk behind a look of playfully exaggerated interest.
"Oh it was." He was trying to hide a smirk too, "How about you, Agent (L/N)?" His cheek twitched, trying desperately to not let that smirk slide through.
"Well I just came back from a mission in London where an very well hidden Hydra base was found. There were a few of their agents there, kicked some ass, and managed to recover some of their tech and files. You know, normal things."
"This is a very casual conversation despite its content." He commented.
You both broke after that, smirks turning into fits of chuckles. You reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
The two of you were developing into a 'thing' recently. Whenever he would come to the compound, you would have your eye on him. And you could feel his eye on you as well. It had been going back and forth for a while, finding excuses to talk to each other and purposely being in the same room as one another. Casual attraction.
You noticed the little details in him. Taking every opportunity to make a snarky comment during meetings. Dedication and a 'cool calm' overtaking him whenever disusing anything serious. His gaze of sparkling blue, sharp features, and welcoming smile. The very presence of him either made your heart stop or quicken, sometimes both simultaneously.
Whenever you were both having a conversation, whether for work or just friendly chatter, you found yourself entranced by him. His voice, his gorgeous face, his personality. Not casual attraction anymore, you were sightly obsessed.
But there was always this look in his eyes, that he recognized your attraction to him. And a look that told you he had similar emotions. You just knew it. You paid attention to him. You noticed him paying attention to you with interest, catching him staring on occasion.
Things had went from zero to one hundred at a party that Tony threw last week. You had a little too much to drink. Stephen did too. You found yourselves alone. Things escalated from there. You woke up the next morning in his bed in the New York sanctum, cuddled in his arms. You both went out for breakfast that morning. He took you out for dinner a day after.
Ever since then, he shows up at the compound when he can, or calls you to ask how you are doing. Work for both of you has gotten pretty busy lately so finding time to go out together was hard. But you promised each other another date as soon as you both were free.
This was a long time coming, you both knew that. All it took was one little push. But you did not expect that push to be a little alcohol. It happened anyways, so you decided to take it without complaints.
Stephen looked around, making sure no one else was in the room to intrude. After confirming, he leaned down and stole a kiss from you. You giggled and let him, leaning up into him. He pulled away to let you have another sip of your coffee.
He wasn't drinking from his own cup. You felt his eyes on you. It did not take long to figure out why. You were still in your uniform, one that is similar to Natasha's. Black bodysuit, weapons belt. Skin tight. A blush crept up on your face, some memories coming back from that night. He has seen you wearing this before, but now his gaze had a different weight to it.
"Liking the view, Strange?" You asked with a raised eyebrow and mischief glittering in your eyes.
He shrugged, "Now that I know what it all looks like, I like the view even more." Casual. Calm. Cocky.
You playfully smacked him on the shoulder, bringing his hint of a smile into light. Tucking the tablet under your arm, coffee in one hand and Stephen's own hand in another, you pulled him over to one of the couches. The two of you sat down. "I have a little tech and paperwork to do right now. You're welcome to stay while I do it, if you're free."
He relaxed beside you, an arm slinging over the back of the couch. "I've got time. Wong is watching the Sanctum, I have the afternoon off."
"Maybe if I finish early we can go out?" You asked with a perky smile.
He gestured to your open tablet. "Better get to work then." You laughed, quickly kissed him, and did get to work. You explained to him your tasks, the decoding you needed to do and then fill out your mission report file. He seemed interested, looking over your shoulder the whole time as you explained your process. He watched you complete the decoding, send the results to the cloud, and start typing away at your morning's mission report.
Stephen's presence behind you the entire time was comforting, taking away some of the stress of your busy work. His warmth and the smell of coffee in the air made you content. You felt him start to fiddle with the tails of your hair, you jokingly swatting him away before he went right back to it.
During the breakfast date, and the dinner date, you saw more little things about him you liked. There was curiosity and interest in his eyes. Behind that serious shell was gentleness and kindness, a full heart who thinks for others. It was like after that night, you got to see the real Stephen Strange, not the Sorcerer Supreme. He was a gentle lover, even drunk, making sure you were comfortable the entire time. Eating out together, he was a gentleman. Seeing him around the compound, he seemed to be smiling more.
You never knew the great Doctor Stephen Strange was a total softy. It made you like him even more.
While writing, you found yourself putting extra care into reviewing the mission and its details. This may have been caused by knowing Stephen was watching your every move and you wanted to make a good impression of your work ethic. You made sure to skim through for any mistakes or typos in your writing as well. After some time, discarded cups on the coffee table and Stephen now subtly nuzzling your neck, you submitted your report.
"Do you have to do that after every mission?" The man who was practically wrapping his entire body around yours on the couch asked.
"Yeah. That was one of the longer ones. Most things were more straightforward this time around, but I did a lot in London today." You heaved a sigh, momentary wiggled out of Stephen's arms to plunk your tablet down on the coffee table, and relaxed back into the couch.
"Have anything else to do?" He asked.
"Not currently." You turned to him, now giving him your full attention. He seemed to like it.
"Well then, maybe you and me can go grab lunch?"
"I'd like that."
You watched his eyes dip down, briefly glancing at your lips before looking back up at your eyes. You caught him. This told you what he was thinking about, and soon you were thinking about it yourself. And then you were doing it. One of his hands rested on your cheek, the other found your waist as he kissed you. Your hands tangled around his neck and up into his hair gently.
It was like you lost track of time. You just focused on Stephen, a hand of his running over the fabric of your tight uniform.
"I'm glad Tony threw that party."
You and Stephen urgently parted at the interruption. Standing in the doorway, Steve and Natasha had smug grins. They were still in their uniforms from the mission, Steve's shield strapped across his back. You groaned.
When you told only one person that you went home with Stephen that night, it had spread through the compound like wildfire. Your coworkers all knew, and they were relieved. Finally, they had said. You must have not noticed how obvious you and Stephen's electric stares and intrigued chatter were.
You were a little embarrassed at being caught making out, but the embarrassment practically radiated off Stephen. He immediately straightened upright and cleared his throat. Apparently he did not show his vulnerable side to anyone but you, him instantly clicking back into a neutral expression when facing someone else.
Nat got right to the point, ignoring the irritated look on your face, "We got a new lead. There was a new location marked in one of their files found in London. Venice. We leave in thirty."
A frown glazed your features. You were really looking forward to spending some time with Stephen again. You looked at Stephen, who shared a mutual disappointed look in his eyes. But you knew that he would go let you work. It was annoying.
It wouldn't hurt to ask. Would it?
You stood up from the couch, grabbing your tablet to pull up your report again. You strided towards your bosses, a lick of confidence in your posture.
"Um actually I was kinda hoping if I could get the rest of the day off." You sang.
Steve let out a breath in a smug laugh, while Nat was hiding one of her own.
With a smile, you handed Nat your tablet, the mission report on the screen. Clean, detailed, care put into it, reflecting your hard work you had accomplished all morning. You saw her eyes look it over, the captain leaning in to do the same.
"You did work hard this morning." Steve pointed out.
"And you did eventually save our asses in the end." Nat added.
As you said to Stephen earlier, you did kick ass during the mission.
You gave them a look of hope. It was obvious what you wanted, they both knew it. For some reason you felt like they were lengthening the moment to tease you. To leave you in anticipation.
After what felt like minutes instead of seconds, the two turned to each other and exchanged expressions. Steve nodded. Natasha handed back your tablet.
"Go play with your sorcerer and his magic hands." Natasha whispered to you with a wink. A deep blush crept up onto your neck, and you saw her smirk. Scrunching your face up in a mock sneer, you snatched your tablet back.
"Have fun, you two." Steve said as a goodbye, and him and Natasha left the lounge to get ready for part two of today's investigation.
You turned back to Stephen. He had an impressed look on his face. Now standing, he threw away your empty coffee cups in a nearby bin."You didn't have to do that, you know."
"Too bad. Already did." You shrugged, sauntering back over to stand in front of him.
Stephen gave you a smile, and opened a slingring portal right in front of you both. "Then lets go."
You put down your tablet and went to empty your weapons belt. "I'm still in uniform, Stephen." You laughed, "I should go change first."
The sorcerer snapped his fingers, and your skintight Avengers uniform turned into a pair of leggings and a blouse. An outfit Stephen had complimented you on last week. You were surprised he remembered it.
You rolled your eyes at him, and before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the portal.
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A Stark Contrast
Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader
Description: You and Stephen are going on a double date with Tony and Pepper, but putting those two men together always results in trouble.
Warnings: signs of ptsd (from Stephen)
Word Count: 1.9K
A/N: Originally posted on Quotev | Check the post before this one on my page for updates on what is going on and what is coming. Thank you for your patience and support! One of the last Stephen ones did very well, I love you guys!
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
The plans you had this evening slightly worried you. It was either going to go really good, or really bad. The knots of excitement and anxiety fought against each other in your stomach, like butterfly flutters and stinging wasps jabbing around.
You smoothed the wrinkles out of your beautiful blue cocktail dress as you walked down the large staircase in the foyer, heels clicking on the steps during your decent. You did one last check in your bag for everything you needed and after confirming you had not forgotten anything, you continued.
You and Pepper have been planning this for a while, but only now were you all able to clear time out of your busy schedules to do it. A double date night with you, Stephen, Tony, and Pepper. Tony made reservations at a fancy restaurant in Lower Manhattan, close to Bleeker St. Stark insisted on the high end establishment, saying that the food and setting was worth it. His treat, obviously. They were already making their way to pick you both up from the tower and would not be long now.
You could imagine the good outcome: a nice night with close friends doing some catching up with an excuse to dress up and eat classy food. You could also imagine the bad one: Tony and Stephen either finding something to fight about or trying to one up one another. And knowing them, if that happened it could go on for the entire night. You were at least expecting some type of disagreement to go down.
Pepper shared your concerns a little, and you both decided to each talk to them before hand. To ask them to try and not start a fight tonight. You still had to do that. And you found Stephen already in the foyer, fumbling with his tie. You approached him with a raised eyebrow. His hands were giving him trouble with tying the proper knot. Must be the shaking.
You do not remember the last time you saw him all dressed up. You liked the sight of it. He was probably struggling to remember exactly how to tie his tie, which must have been the result of not needing to for quite some time. Maybe you should go out with the Starks more often.
"Need help?" You asked, a little laughter in your voice.
His eyes jerked up at the sound of your voice. He sighed, admitting his defeat. "Yes please."
You assisted him with finishing the knot. The entire time you felt his eyes on you. Sure enough, when you looked up you saw those sparkling blue gems staring right back at you.
"You look amazing."
Once you finished, you reached up and gave him a peck on the lips. "You do too."
He smiled and threw on his blazer, straightening it out over his shoulders and smoothing it down.
"Are you going to behave yourself tonight?" You said, crossing your arms over your chest and looking up at him with a serious glance.
He looked genuinely confused, "What do you mean?"
"Whenever you and Tony are in the same room it's like a contest."
Going from confused to realization, he replied, "It's always his fault."
You scoffed, "Don't blame the whole thing on him, you're part of the problem too."
He shrugged and did that little tilt of his head he did when he was thinking, "He's worse."
"Whatever, just please don't cause trouble." You begged, "I want a nice night."
"Okay," He sighed, like he wasn't taking it seriously.
"Stephen, I'm serious."
"Okay okay, I get it. No making Stark upset. On purpose."
You rolled your eyes. He was good at doing that, but you did not need it tonight.
"We haven't been out like this in a while," You mused, "I'm excited."
"Yeah, it's nice we finally have a break." Stephen had let out a deep breath, like he was tying to relax.
The past week had been hectic. There were multiple problems that had happened over at Kamar Taj that took a lot of work and energy to resolve. You both needed a night out. You were thankful Wong offered to watch over the Sanctum tonight.
Out of nowhere, Stephen blurted, "Do they have to pick us up? We could just meet them there."
"We can't just take a slingring portal to a fancy restaurant, Stephen."
He groaned a little, "I don't exactly trust Stark behind the wheel."
He had a point. You imagined Tony's lack of chaotic control might get translated into his driving. But you knew that was not the only reason Stephen was looking a tad worried. That deep breath earlier was him trying to relax. Obviously it was because of the crash in his old Lamborghini. To your knowledge, Stephen had not driven or even been in a car since then. You could not blame him for it. He did not even need it, with slingrings and mystical ways to travel.
You saw the anxious energy that emitted off of him.
You looked him in the eyes, "It will be alright."
He gave you a little nod, like he knew what you meant. You comforted him with another quick kiss.
"Don't worry about it." You said, "Worrying only makes it worse. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
Stephen cleared his throat, "I'll try."
Even though you had not experienced that horrific car crash, you understood his nerves. Reaching for his hand, you pulled him into a hug. "I'll be right here." That made him smile.
Pepper texted you that they were here already. When you and Stephen stepped out of the Sanctum doors and onto Bleeker St, there was an Audi sports car in a flashy silver colour waiting. Tony and Pepper were in the front waving you over. You gently grabbed Stephen by the hand again, reminding him that there was nothing to worry about, and jumped in the back seat together.
"You two clean up nice," Tony said as a greeting. He shifted gears and pulled out onto the road to drive to the restaurant. "Last time I saw you, you were roughed up by some magic monsters."
"They were demons from another dimension." Stephen pointed out, "Who were trying to eat us."
"Well good thing you both weren't eaten." Tony replied.
You could tell they were trying to be nice. It was kind of obvious. It was like it thick layer in the air. The hard resistance to make a jabbing comment.
"Well the mystic arts always comes with surprises." You said.
"Any magical duties you two have after dinner tonight?" Pepper asked, more joking then an actual question.
"Are you kidding, it's our night off." Stephen laughed.
Past his light hearted tone, and the urge to poke at Tony, there was still a trace of nervousness in Stephen's voice. You could feel his hand in yours trembling a little more than they usually did. You squeezed your hand around his a little tighter. You could see that it was like he braced himself for every turn and every acceleration the car made. But the fact that you were still holding his hand made things a little better.
Along the way, the four of you caught up. Stark Industries was going strong and the Avengers were doing well as always. You shared a few recent things going on with the sanctum and Stephen bragged about how well your skills and studies were progressing.
In little time, Tony pulled up to the restaurant and the four of you go out to start the night. The place was very high end, but not too classy. It was a place where you could show up all fancy, but still have a casual time. Your little party was definitely recognized by people that passed by, other patrons, and the staff. This gave you a little boost of confidence, and quick service to your table.
Your shoulders relaxed, all worry of Stephen and Tony ruining the night was replaced with excitement. With your arm wrapped around his, you smiled and got ready for a pleasant night.
They were trying so hard.
From the moment you all sat down, there were opportunities for them to pick at one another. To argue about one little thing or brag about something. They did not take any of those opportunities. Normally, knowing Stephen, he would have taken every single on of those to his advantage for his own amusement. But no, it was all calm and pleasant.
The two had a lot of similarities when it came to personalities. Cocky, stubborn, full of themselves, and very existences dripping in sarcasm. They both were really good at improvising snarky comments when presented with an opportunity. That is why they clashed so often.
But there was little differences that you had picked up over your time of knowing them both. Stephen is a little more clever and had more of a witty and collected style. Tony's style is more chaotic, out there or down right ridiculous. Tony is more outgoing, while Stephen can be a little more reserved. Stephen is responsible, Tony is not.
The contrast was more obvious once you realize it.
And you did not want to listen to those two personalities bicker all night.
You tried to focus on the good things. They were trying for you and Pepper, so you could have a good night. The appetizers were delicious, and you could only imagine how good your main course would be. Tony had reserved a table with a beautiful view of the city, the lights and buildings being visible through a large window. Table conversation was great and things were trouble free.
It actually felt weird like this. The usual was non stop bickering. But now with them being nice to each other, it was all so strange. Defiantly a stark contrast from the normal.
You had to bring this to light, and in the middle of dessert you did.
As you were taking a bite of your slice of cheese cake, Tony said "I actually admire you Strange."
You froze in shock. And apparently everyone else at the table did too, even Tony himself.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right." Stephen cockily said. "Repeat that."
It was like Stark was trying not to throw up saying it, "I admire you. Your whole life was taken away and you bounced back. Now saving lives a better way. I admire that."
You looked at Pepper. You thought that maybe she was behind it but the look on her face told you otherwise. The smile on Stephen's face was one of amusement and astonishment, like he was taken aback. He stumbled to say thank you, but he did eventually.
Despite the nice moment, you broke out, "I don't like this."
"What?" The two men said at the same time.
"The fact that you both aren't ripping out each others throats is kinda scary."
Pepper took a sip of her wine, "Yea it does feel a little off."
"Very off." You corrected.
Stephen turned to you, "I agreed to not make fun of him for you though."
"I though it would be better, but something just feels like it's missing." You admitted.
"Make fun of me?" Stark asked. "Is that what you call it?"
"That's the lighter term."
"Then what's the usual term, Merlin?"
"I'd say 'wiping the floor with you' is the better sounding term."
And with that cool and quick comment, things grew into a argument. All the tension that build up over the course of the night was released into a wave of quick witted remarks, one after another with some name calling. You kinda prayed that the other tables were not paying attention.
You and Pepper slightly smiled at each other.
"And they're back." Pepper said into her glass of wine.
Yes they were, and you loved it.
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Sorry I haven’t been posting, uni has been taking a lot out of me. Also mental health has not been good in the last few weeks, but I’m starting to bounce back.
That said, I still have things planned and works in progress. So probably starting in April, I will be posting again. I have so many projects that I think you will love, so please see my last update post on a list of things that I am still working on.
But I have another project that was not in my last update. It will be a mini series. And if you have seen Parks and Recreation, get excited. The working title for this is: Project Love Song
Till next time, which hopefully won’t be long, see you soon!
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My mood this past few weeks... sorry guys
Me: finally, I can sit down and write
Literally everything else:
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Hi my loves, been busy lately but I have some things in the works that will be coming out in the next couple of months. Also requests are still open but don’t expect me to release them any time soon. Life is busy and finding inspiration to write is hard sometimes. I’ll put stuff out whenever I can, also be reposting more stuff from my Quotev. Yay. I love you all, and thank you for all the notes and comments and support lately.
What’s coming soon:
Prisoner of Time (Darkiplier X Reader), Chapter 3
A Cassian Andor X Reader one shot (a request I have been working on)
A brand new AU series! Poe Dameron X Reader X Din Djarin (gonna be huge!)
What is being planned and in the works:
Requests: Luke Skywalker, Boba Fett, Obi-Wan, Dr Strange
Personal Idea: Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Llewyn Davis, Capitan Rex, Beast Boy
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I wanna write a doctor strange x reader fic and somehow include the icon Jimmy Woo...
Idk how but I will...
I wanna Jimmy Woo all of you! Hehehehehehe
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Sprinkle of Love
Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader
Description: You planned to surprise Stephen for Valentines day with making him cookies, but he is planning to surprise you as well.
Warnings: implications of smut
Word Count: 2.1k
A/N: Happy Valentines day! | Originally posted on Quotev for Valentines day 2020
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
There were two times a year where you went full baker mode and had massive cookie making sessions. The first was obviously Christmas time, they were always a hit at gatherings and parties over the holiday season. Ginger breads and snicker doodles, sugars with colourful characters and streams of red and green. The second was Valentines day. Iconic pink and red hearts, made of sugar cookies and short breads, with sprinkles galore.
Oh yeah, today is February fourteenth.
And the kitchen was bound to be an absolute mess. Stephen knew that already, and he did not need the amazing smell that was filling the Sanctum to know that. Every year, even before you both started dating, he knew you made cookies for the people in your life on this day. You would hand them out at Kamar Taj, send a box to the Avengers, and make enough to share your love with everyone you knew. He wondered what they were going to look like this year, somehow you managed something new all the time with your baking. He knew they would taste just as good as always, it made his mouth water just thinking about it.
He had told you that he was going to be working at Kamar Taj today and would be back later. He lied, he had come back early. That was only because he had a little idea that had been running through his head for the past week or so. The idea of Valentines day was very overrated and annoying, but Stephen still wanted to do something for you to show you how much he appreciated you.
Sneaking through the Sanctum, he made sure you were busy in the kitchen so he could get to work. From behind the closed door he could hear the sink running and the clang of dishes, as well as music playing from your speaker. He could imagine you dancing around like an idiot, which made him smile to himself. He tiptoed past the door, taking care not to make a sound, so he could make it down the hallway, up the stairs, and to the library.
When he plans dates, Stephen has two ways of going about things. One: go big or go home. Two: casual but still caring. Today he decided to go with something subtle for the occasion. Not too out there, but something that still said he loved you. His plan made him a little excited because he knew you would like it.
One of you favorite places in the entire Sanctum was the spot by the fireplace in the library. You can often be found studying or reading there, occasionally falling asleep there into the night. The comfy couch by the warm heat with a throw blanket and pillows was all you needed for a peaceful time.
He decided to do something with that, but amp it up and turn on the romance. With a little care, and some magic, he could make his vision work. The library was dead quiet. And it was cold from the February winter slipping through the window panes.
The first thing he did was light the fireplace and the warmth from it was already starting to heat up the area. He then made the place a little more cozy; more soft throw blankets and pillows that you could both cuddle up with. He summoned a few candles to put on the coffee table and lit them up, along with a box of gourmet chocolates he knew you would be all over. He put some of your favorite books out, just in case you were both in the mood for reading together. For good measure, he put up a simple ward around the Sanctum that would prevent any unwanted and unneeded interruptions.
Finally, he made a gorgeous bouquet of bright red roses appear in his hands. The scent from them was fresh and strong, and their petals glimmered with the richest red colour he had ever seen. He put them in a glass vase next to the candles, but saved one for a little surprise magic trick later.
He wondered if it looked too typical, with the candles and roses like something out of a sappy romance movie. But he told himself not to worry about that, and that it was perfect. You enjoyed little things like this and he knew that. With the addition of your cookies, and obviously you yourself, it would be perfect indeed.
All he had to do was wait a little. For either you to wander into the library, or for him to get impatient and drag you there himself.
After a long time in the kitchen, hands sore from the constant work and craft, you finally let yourself take a breath. Everything was done. The baking, the decorating, the wrapping, the cleaning. It took a while and a lot of hard work, but it was worth it and it made you happy. You were now exhausted and needed a break. You decided to head up to the library to get some reading done as you wait for Stephen to come back home.
You had not expected him to be there. With a book in his hands and feet propped up on the coffee table. With casual clothes, simple black t shirt and grey sweatpants. But with the fire lit, candles scattered around, and a bouquet of roses.
"Oh hey!" He said so casually like there wasn't an entire set up around him. Then he chuckled at the look on your face, smiling innocently. "Surprise!"
There was a pause as you processed what was in front of you. A slight chuckle was in your voice when you said, "I was supposed to surprise you."
"Well you can't exactly surprise me when your cookies smell that good."
He was right about that, the whole Sanctum smelled like your baking. You blushed a little in bashfulness. With a snap of your fingers, you summoned one of the boxes of cookies you made up, the one you made just for Stephen. He perked up at the sight of the box in your hands, and put his book down while gesturing for you to sit beside him with a dumb smile on his face.
You playfully rolled your eyes and walked over to him. Before you could sit down, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him. You plopped down on the couch with him kissing you. You had let out a startled yelp and you could feel his lips fighting a smirk against your own.
"Happy Valentines Day." He mumbled between breathes and kisses.
"You too," You replied as your broke away.
"Honestly I think it's a dumb holiday," He started, which made you giggle a little, "but I still wanted to do something. For you."
"Thank you, this is lovely."
He reached out and made a swift motion with his hands, and a rose appeared in his grasp. He handed it to you with a look of pride on his face. You smelled it, its essence sweet and fresh and strong. It reminded you of fresh air and gardens. But also love. This is what it smelled like. This is what it looked like. And with Stephen here by your side, this is what it felt like.
"We can do whatever you want today." He said as he took your free hand and kissed your knuckles. "Be lazy and relax, read, cuddle, have fun," He winked at you at that last one. "I could also grab my laptop and we can watch a movie if you want."
"Hmm," You pondered, "maybe we can cuddle for a little first, then we'll figure it out."
"But I'm gonna be having a few of these right now." He reached for the box of cookies you had placed on the table, making you laugh. You both laid down on the couch, you under Stephen's arm and resting your head on his chest. He threw a blanket over the both of you before turning his attention back to the box.
He opened it and was greeted by a array of sugar cookies. The designs were mixed. Simple round ones with sprinkles. Classic heart shapes with red and pink frosting. A few special ones were decorated to look like little letters; envelopes with heart shapes where the seal would be. He was impressed. You always put care into everything you made, this was obviously no exception. They almost looked too pretty to eat. Almost.
He picked up one of the simple ones with sprinkles. The cookie crumbled as he took a bite. Its sugary and buttery goodness was heaven wrapped up into the little cookie, and he knew he would be having more than just one. Sprinkles fell off with the crumbs and stuck to his lip. He licked them up with his tongue.
When you first met him, you never imagined Stephen having a sweet tooth. Soon you discovered that behind that hard shell he wore upon first impressions, he could be broken down with desserts. You still found it a little funny, the all respected and powerful Sorcerer Supreme was a sucker for treats.
You found yourself watching him eat that cookie a little too closely. The movement of his lips and his tongue grazing it. He caught you looking. You looked away quickly and you heard him chuckle. "These lips are busy right now, give me a second." And that made you laugh. Right after he finished the first cookie he kissed you again. His lips tasted like sugar.
The day soon turned into evening. And as the sun was starting to dip down below the horizon, you both were still laying around with each other. The time was spent reading together, munching on the cookies and chocolates, and just chatting. Of course there was the exchange of soft kisses, light touches, and whispers. It was the perfect casual stay-home-date, you could not ask for anything more.
Stephen had went on a tangent earlier just on describing how soft your hands were, which was interesting and charming and romantic and amusing all at the same time. You could listen to him talk all day. With that deep and smooth voice that always brought you comfort. And when he was reading to you it was like nothing else mattered. All your attention was just focused on that tone that was speaking the words from the page. Sometimes you did not even pay attention to the words, just the sound of them rolling off his tongue. When you were laying on his chest you could feel his voice.
The sexiness of it was often distracting.
These thoughts rambled in your head as you were still wrapped up in Stephen's arms. You were sitting in his lap, flipping through a spell book while nibbling on a piece of chocolate. He had his arms wrapped around your torso with his chin resting on your shoulder.
You got a sudden thought about a spell you were practicing yesterday and had went up to go grab the book from the shelf, which is what you were trying to do right now. That was difficult. You could feel the strong muscles of his arms, the definition they had. The tickle of his beard scratched against your shoulder if he moved. His heartbeat was steady and softly pounding in his chest that was pressed up against your back.
Then he did something you were not expecting. He leaned really close to your ear, lips lightly brushing against your skin as he said,
Good God, that voice. The way he said your name made you weak.
"Yes, Stephen." You did not look up from the pages. You did not show any of the thoughts going on in your head. At most you swayed a little in his arms, you did not know if he picked up on it.
He slowly took the book out of your hands and closed it before putting it aside. His arms returned to their place around you, and you felt him trail kissed up the back of your neck. The tickle of his beard was more intense then on your shoulder, you giggled and tried to brush him off.
He then pushed you backwards on the couch. Roughly.
The look he was giving you and that slight smile told you that he wanted something. He then placed a very gentle kiss on your forehead, before slowly sliding his hands up your shirt and gliding across your skin as they traveled higher.
You knew where this was going. However, you did not object to his actions. It was wrapping up the perfect day, between cookies and sprinkles of love.
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AWWW I DID NOT SEE THIS UNTIL NOW! THANK YOU!
Attack in The Library
Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader
Description: Stephen sends you to Kamar Taj to get some books, but some invaders attack you. Stephen comes to the rescue, and he’s not happy.
Warnings: Fighting and violence
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: Originally posted on Quotev // School has be busy so one shots that are already on my quotev will be reposted here, all requests on hold for now sorry // Originally requested by Coppercat615 on quotev <3
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
You had just finished a meditation and astral projection practice session on the Sanctum rooftop. The background noise of the frantic and angry city below sometimes helped you focus. It was just what you needed today. Feeling relaxed, accomplished, and satisfied, you went back inside to see what Stephen was up to. It was getting close to noon, and maybe you could pull him away from his studies for a little to grab lunch together.
Stephen was standing over his desk in his office, a few books open before him and his eyes darting from one to the next. He looked deep in thought and you almost did not want to bother him. The Sorcerer Supreme in his natural habitat, it was like there was naturally a 'do not disturb' sign plastered onto him. You did anyways.
"Hey Stephen, I finished my practice."
"How did it go?" He did not even look up from his books.
"Pretty good!" You walked up to the desk and rested your hands on it, trying to see what he was looking at even though it was upside down for you. "Looking for something?"
He shrugged and flipped one of the books around so you could see it the right way up. The book was old and small, the wear and tear from over the years showing through its pages. There was writings in characters you did not understand scribbled across the page, directions for a spell you assumed. He then showed you another book that had the same letters translated to English, but there were so many variations of each and it looked hard to decipher.
"I've been trying to decode this spell. This is the only instance of it in writing. The Ancient One left it behind but I cannot seem to understand it." There was a frustration in his voice and you could tell from his messy hair that he had been running his hands through it in said frustration.
"I'm sure you'll figure it out." You handed him back the books.
"Hey (Y/N), can you do me a big favor?"
Curiosity struck you, "What is it?"
"Can you head over to the Kamar Taj library and find these books for me."
Stephen handed you a list on a piece of paper. Titles and authors were listed in his slightly messy handwriting. You counted six books.
"Why can't you go get them yourself?"
He did have those books in front of him, certainly looking busy. But he could go over there himself and it would only take about ten minutes. It felt like an excuse to you.
You gave him a look, before growling under your breath, "Fine. I'll get you your books..."
Raising up your hand that had your sling ring, you started to conjure up a portal before Stephen interrupted you.
"No, take the door."
"You can't rely on magic for everything, (Y/N)."
"Well that door is magic too, you idiot. What do you want me to do? Jump on the next flight to Nepul?"
"Just stop complaining and go take the door."
You rolled your eyes and stomped off down the hallway and towards the door that connected the Sanctum to the two others and Kamar Taj. He did that all the time, scolding you for using magic for minor conveniences. Whether it be you quickly grabbing something from across the Sanctum with a portal or teleporting to the other side of the room for split second. The thing is was that he did it sometimes. When you pointed it out he just told you to shut up. Typical.
Walking through the door that lead directly to Kamar Taj, you entered the library and found just how like a library should be: calm and silent. It was nighttime in Kathmandu so the lack of people in the place did not surprise you. But when you walked past a few shelves, you saw Wong with a stack of books in his arms.
"Hey Wong." You said cheerily, coming up beside him to look on the same shelf he was organizing the books onto.
He bowed his head, "Master (L/N)."
Your mouth formed a tight line for a split second, "How many times have I told you to just call me (Y/N)?"
"Well it is out of respect," He replied, and you shrugged a little in understanding, "But on your word, (Y/N)."
You smiled and went back to looking for one of the books on the shelf. It had some weird and long title, you scanned the book spines for it.
It still felt a little weird when others would call you that, Master (L/N). It came with the feeling that you were in a high position. You kind of were, being taught personally by the Sorcerer Supreme himself. Not to mention being his girlfriend. The people around Kamar Taj and the other sanctums treated you with a lot of respect. Sometimes you did not feel like you deserved it, you still felt like you and being a master of the mystic arts did not change that.
You shook the thought away from your head as you found yourself not even reading the titles. You went back over while Wong moved to the other side of the library to keep working. Then you found it, it was a bigger book. When you took it off the shelf the weight of it dug into your hands. This made you hope the others were smaller, otherwise you would be taking a big stack of heavy books back home. That could be dangerous due to your sometimes clumsy nature.
Opening it to a random page, it was full of runes with descriptions of their spells. You feathered through more pages and they were like that, covered in artworks of detailed images of runes. Then you remembered that Stephen was working on a lot of rune magic recently so it made sense. You closed the book and tucked it against your chest as you moved to another shelf to keep on looking.
While you were reading the little list of books, there was a sudden sound. It was soft. It was very familiar. It was the sound of a slingring portal opening. You turned around, looking towards where the sound came from. From in between the shelves and the tops of books, you saw a figure and the sparks from a portal. You did not recognize the figure, but on a closer look it was a man with black and red robes. For some reason the sight of him was slightly unsettling.
What happened next confirmed your suspicions.
He walked right up behind Wong. Just as Wong turned around at the sound of heavy footsteps, the sorcerer made a fast motion with his hands that made sparks explode from his fists. The energy shot into Wong and he was soon on the floor.
You quickly ducked behind a bookshelf, tucking the book you held tightly against your chest. That came out of nowhere and you assumed it was an attack. Wong was now unconscious and no one else was around. At this hour not many sorcerers were up and about around Kamar Taj. So you guessed it was up to you to stop it.
There were two more portals opened, and the first man instructed someone to look for 'it'. The 'it' they were referring to was probably a book, what else would they raid a library for? It could be any one in this whole library, so you needed to do something before they found what they were looking for.
Sneaking in between the shelves, you tried to think of a plan of action. The adrenaline was already pumping and your heart racing. This kind of distracted you from the planning, but you managed to think of something.
You heard someone nearby tossing books off the shelves, ones that were not what they needed. You slowly made your way closer, your boots against the floorboards not making a sound. Carefully, you summoned energy to create a whip, hoping that the sound of the sparks would not give you away. You threw your magic, the rope wrapping around the sorcerer's ankle and you pulled it back. The man fell to the floor and you cracked the whip on top of him to keep him down.
Before you could land another strike, something from behind grabbed your hand as it was raised up. While turning your head to see what happened, you were struck with a very powerful punch. It send you right down to the ground, the book skidding across the floor as it was knocked from your hands. You scrambled to get rid of your dazed vision and to grab the book again. When you felt the hard cover and clutched it to you chest, three figures were standing over you.
"We're going to need that."
You looked down at the book that you were clenching to your chest, the thick volume was one of the books that Stephen wanted you to bring back. Of course it had to be the exact book you were holding. From the looks of the group, and what they had did to Wong, you knew you could not let them get their hands on this book.
Looking him right in the eyes you said a calm but stern "No." Your eyes were full of seriousness and daring, but inside you knew you were insecure. You were scared.
"We thought we did not need to hurt anyone today." The woman with a thick accent peered at you, a glint in her eyes that you did not like.
You would not stand down though.
Thinking quickly, you cast a teleportation spell and hid yourself among the maze of shelves. From across the library you heard the three separate to search for you. You were still dizzy from that punch, knowing there was going to be a mark on your face later. You teleported again, hoping to get away from them.
You accidentally appeared right in the sight of one of them. He warned the others and started running towards you. You were in the middle of summoning a spell to protect yourself when from in between the bookshelves the woman slid right past you and struck you in the leg. Soon there was a sting running down your leg and something hot started to coat the leggings you wore underneath your robes. You let out a cry and collapsed onto the ground. Feeling a boot kick itself into the back of your head, you seethed with pain and blurry vision.
"Well that was easy." One of them said going to pick up the book you had dropping in the impact.
"This one is weak, convenient for our mission."
There was another kick that went through you, this time to your stomach. Then again. And again. It felt like the air from your lungs was being forced out, being unable to breathe. Your head was ringing, your leg burning, and your very existence aching.
And they were laughing while it was all happening.
"Make one more move and I'll kill you where you stand."
The deep voice came suddenly, purring the threat out to the attackers.
The hits instantly stopped. You leaned on your elbow to prop yourself up, struggling against the weakness that had over come you. Looking up at Stephen as your vision was starting to become clear again, you saw a darkness in his eyes. This said that all hell was about to break loose.
He used the word 'kill'. Stephen would not kill anyone. Whenever he fought, he did it without the intention of harming his opponent. That was probably one of the doctor qualities he kept, swearing not to hurt anyone.
But this darkness you could see in him. It was unsettling. You felt a chill go about the room. You knew it had nothing to do with temperature.
The gang looked taken aback from his sudden appearance and froze in place, he must have teleported in. The expressions that washed over their faces told you that they recognized him. They were being threatened by the Sorcerer Supreme, his cloak flaring out to make him look bigger and a death glare staring them down.
"How dare you touch her."
The attackers broke out into a run, but Stephen was right on their heels.
You tried to crawl over to a bookshelf to lean against for support, but it took a while since the pain was so strong. You started to grow dizzy again from moving, your breath heaving in your chest. With your vision all fuzzy and body refusing to cooperate, all you could do was listen.
What you heard was brutal.
There were sounds of magic, struggle, heavy breathing, grunts, cries of pain. Also you might have heard the snap of a broken bone, which made your skin crawl a little. Stephen sounded mad. Very mad. What you realized that there was less sounds of magic, but more sounds of physical fighting. You could only imagine what was happening. It scared you a little. When Stephen got angry it was usually bad, but you have never seen (heard) anything like this. The fight continued out if your sight until the sounds stopped. You did not know if your attackers had escaped, been subdued, been knocked out...or worse...but you had no way to tell. You did not know if you wanted to ask him later either.
Stephen snapped back out of his fury-filled state, it being quickly replaced by concern and anxiety. There you were on the other side of the library, leaning on a bookcase and clutching at your leg. He noticed the trail of blood smeared on the ground from where you were pulling yourself across the ground, a deep red soaking your robes. Retaliation hit him that you were stabbed.
He rushed over to you. Kneeling down over your figure, his eyes darting everywhere in concern, he took you in his arms. "It's alright, you're okay."
"Stephen, it hurts..." You tried to say, but it came out as a quiet breath.
"I know." You were surprised he heard you. "Don't worry I'm right here."
He had to act quickly. What he needed to do was get you somewhere safe, clean your wound and stitch it up, and lay you down just encase you had a concussion. The weakness in your body and the pained look on your face made him want to let out more rage, but also hold you close until you were better.
"Okay," He took a breath and recollected himself. "I'm going to take you home. I'm going to lift you up. This is going to hurt. Deep breath for me." He reached around your body, one hand under your knees and the other supporting your back. He counted down so you could brace yourself for the jolt of pain he knew would hit you as soon as you moved. On one, Stephen lifted you up in a controlled motion, his muscles aching a little from fighting the attackers. You let out a cry as soon as the pain came and clung onto his neck and shoulders, you needed him there through it.
You desperately held on, wishing it was over the entire way. Stephen would have used a portal to get you home faster but his hands needed to carry you. He carried you through the door and you were back in New York in no time. But for you the pain made it feel like a lifetime. He brought you to the bedroom which was close by. As carefully as he could, he put you down on top of the covers. The pain slowed to a quiet beat as you began to relax.
Stephen rushed out of the room to go find a first aid kit. Once he found one, hidden in the back of a closet in the hallway outside, he came back right by your side and started to rummage through the box. As he was doing so, he came to the realization that this was gonna be difficult. His hands. His hands shake more when he was panicking. And in that moment they were trembling like crazy. Seeing you like this, the hurt and the worry he felt. It went right to his hands, bringing back the state they were in when he was stripped away of everything he had. When he felt hopeless.
But he told himself to push past it. Because he needed to help you.
Before he did anything else, he put down the first aid kit. Raising his hands up and making a few sharp movements with his hands, energy summoned and made a little rune in front of him. His hands absorbed the bright colours. The shaking slowed, almost to a compete stop. Now he could work. Trying to remember his basic studies from medical school, he began to tend to the gash in your leg.
You had passed out from being so tired and being in so much pain. When you woke up, it was dark outside and it was a little colder in the bedroom. Stephen was still beside you, sitting at your bedside currently looking through a book that had a title that implied the pages contained mystical information on healing. There was this look in his eyes, like he was trying to stay calm. You could only imagine the rushing thoughts running through his head. Once he realized you had woken up, he put his book down like he was called to attention.
"How you feeling?"
He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"You're going to be just fine." He said, moving a little closer to you. "The stab wound is not too deep, needed to be stitched up. Bruising on your torso and arms." He gestured to the areas as he spoke. "You also got hit in the head pretty bad, maybe a concussion so you need to rest." He pulled the warm blanket further up to cover your cold body.
You have not seen Stephen in doctor mode in a while. It was comforting, knowing he knew exactly how to treat something and how to take care of you. You smiled at him, remembering back when he was a surgeon. He might have changed as a person from doctor to sorcerer, but he kept a few qualities.
"Is Wong alright?" You asked, suddenly remembering that little detail from the attack.
"He's fine. I made sure someone is watching over him."
You nodded, instantly regretting making the movement as it came with a headache.
"Are you alright?"
"I'll be fine."
Then you remembered something else. Earlier you did not think you were going to ask about it. But you needed to. It was nagging you in the back of your thoughts.
"What did you do to them?"
He paused. "I stopped them from hurting you." You thought he was going to stop there. He was, it if were not for the look you gave him to keep going. "I beat them up. I know it was wrong. I was just so angry. I did not like what I saw. Them hurting you like that."
You noticed he kind of dodged your question directly. He gave no details of what he physically did to them. Even with your worry and slight curiosity, you did not press him for the answer you wanted.
You understood why he did it though. He was full of rage and it overtook his mind. But that did not excuse his actions, and you knew he knew it too. He looked a little ashamed of it. He was never good at controlling his anger. You reached out your hand and rested your palm on his cheek. You did not need to say anything because from the look in his eyes you could tell he understood your gesture. Bending down, he kissed your forehead again. Angry Stephen was gone, now it was just protective Stephen.
"One more thing." You said.
He hummed in response.
"You stitched me up?"
"I learned a new rune that suppresses nervousness and its physical reactions."
You had to let out a little laugh, "Of course." Must have been from his recent rune studies because that was new.
"I had to do what I needed to." Shrugging, he gave a smile.
"What about your gloves?"
"I did not have time to go get them," He replied, this made you smile.
The rest of the night consisted of Stephen staying up with you and making sure you were comfortable. He brought you pain killers for your sore muscles and headache, something for you to eat, and anything else you needed. He let you cuddle up to him to rest and stay warm. You had made him renew his promise, and to make a new promise to you, that he would never hurt anyone like that ever again. He agreed and you could see the shame and guilt in his eyes. But you knew he did it to protect you even if his anger had taken over. You both fell asleep into the night, Stephen there to protect you.
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*SCREAMS IN NEW CHAPTER OF PRISONER OF TIME!!!!!!!* *finally stops screaming and goes and reads it* *promptly starts screaming again because of that plot twist at the end* This was SO GOOD!!! I'm very intrigued by the Unus Annus motifs you've included - I can't wait to see where they're are going to lead... You also have thoroughly intrigued me with the way you had Mark (-er Dark) telling the story... This plot is GalaxyBrain(tm) P.S. MORE EEF!!! AND CHEF!!! ~the same anon as last time💗
You just made my morning, thank you so much. It’s comments and feedback like this that make me want to keep writing. New chapter coming soon~
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Chapter 2: Checkmate
Prisoner of Time - Last | Next (coming soon)
Pairing: Darkiplier X Fem!Reader
Series Description: You always wake up in this manor, living with it’s master, being treated like a queen. But you do not remember what came before, or what is outside the grounds. There is something not right. Something is not right about Mark. Things are so wrong, yet so right. (SLOW BURN/EVENTUAL ROMANCE/HEAVY LORE)
Chapter Description: Mark finds you in your painting studio, watching you paint with wonder. The two of you have dinner together. He then challenges you to a game of chess.
Warnings: Light drinking
Word Count: 3.0k
A/N: Thank you so much for the positive responses to the first chapter, hope you enjoy chapter 2 / Series inspired by Who Killed Markiplier? / This story depicts the character of Markiplier, NOT THE REAL MARK, all figures are characters.
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
“Don't feel bad for one moment about doing what brings you joy.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses
You had opened all the windows in your painting studio so everything sparkled where the afternoon sunlight spilled. The canvases that line the walls gave the place character and life. The room was alive and welcoming, a space that Mark had given you and that you had added so much colour to.
Perched on a stool in the middle of the room, you were hard at work. A book lay open on your lap that was opened to a page of chickadees, and your eyes darted between the birds on the page to the one on the wet canvas. You were using the last of your black and white paints for this one, squeezing the tubes dry and salvaging what was left. But there was enough to finish your bird, the one you had spent all afternoon working on with care.
With delicate brush strokes, you blended the paint to make the feathers look nice and fluffy on the chubby body of the bird. You were growing satisfied with how it was looking. You were surprised you were able to capture the cuteness of it. You were excited to show Mark, he was the one who gave you the idea yesterday. It looked just like the ones you had seen outside.
Painting was something you often found yourself doing in the manor. You just loved to get lost in the moments of paint smeared on your hands and your pallet being filled with colours. And when Mark first let you set up a studio, you were overjoyed. Every canvas, every sketchbook page, every piece of wood, the little things you had painted were here along with your supplies. A safe space for you to be creative.
The weather today had been just as nice as the day before. The sun was just as bright as when you and Mark sat outside to have breakfast and when you relaxed out by the pool. It made you want to paint outside, but the feeling of being in your studio called louder. So you drew all the curtains and opened all the windows and spent your afternoon in here. The perfect setting to just let loose.
While you were lost in the painting, tongue stuck out in concentration and you flicked more feathers on, there was a knock on the door just as the day was transitioning from afternoon to evening.
“Come in,” You replied without even looking up from your pallet where you were mixing greys.
You expected Ethan to be the one to enter. Maybe with a tray of tea again, or to bring you a snack. Or just to coax you to come out of your studio, relax your eyes, get some exercise.
But it was Mark who opened the door. The recognizable figure in the corner of your eye made you look up at him.
In a blazer, as always, he entered with a shy smile on his face.
“Hi. Um, so I had some time to run out today. I got you more paint.” He had a paper bag in his hands that he offered out to you. “You said you were out of black and white again.”
You put down your brush and your pallet, standing up, “Thank you, Mark.” You walked towards him and you both met in the middle. He gave you the bag. Your hands brushed at the handoff. Inside were tubes of white and black, enough to last you a while.
“What are you working on?” Mark passed you and walked up to your easel. You watched the smile grow on his face upon seeing your painting.
“You inspired me yesterday,” You moved to stand beside him. “It’s not entirely finished yet though.”
Mark studied the bird with a caring look, “Amazing, as always.”
Retaking your place on your stool, you picked your brush back up. “Thank you. I’m just going to add some things before this grey dries.” Dipping your brush into the paint, you added a few details to your bird.
But you were aware that he was watching you, standing right behind you and watching your every move. It was not too much of an uncomfortable feeling, you felt good in his presence. You just hoped your brush did not slip while he was watching.
Mark watched you paint with interest. Whenever he saw you with rolled-up sleeves, a brush or pencil in hand, eyes focused on creation, he was transfixed in fascination. Every time he saw you like this he saw how happy it made you, how much joy it brought you.
And it brought him a little joy too.
He was more than happy to provide you with a space and supplies, keep providing you this joy. It was never a bother if you asked for more paint or more paper. He happily gave you whatever you needed, any request granted quickly.
It kept you busy too, which was a bonus.
While he watched you paint, his eyes found themselves wandering around the room. There were shelves of art books and photo books for image references. A nearby table held sketchbooks and supplies. Drying oil paintings, a pallet of watercolours waiting to be rehydrated, a vase of roses from the garden, an empty teapot and matching cup. There were canvases all over the walls, some hung and some leaning in piles.
Trends of common images were among your works on the walls, and Mark was sure that if he were to open your sketchbooks that he would see them there too:
The domination of black and white paintings. Countless spirals. Hourglasses. Skulls.
He knew why. Stuck in your subconscious, wanting to come out in some way.
It made him want to scream. Make the images fly off the walls. Tear the canvas from their wooden frames. Turn the hypnotic seas of black and white into ripped shreds that scatter the floor. Make the remnants of your subconscious memories disappear into nothing, rid them out of his place.
He blinked the thought away. He would never do that.
They were beautiful paintings nonetheless. The hobby that lit up your face, made your eyes light up with wonder. So he would not touch them. They made you happy, he wanted to keep it that way. He ignored the nagging that was deep inside his brain.
He would never lay a harmful finger on your paintings, he told himself.
“You’re very talented, (Y/N),” Mark said, and he meant it.
“I’ve had the practice.”
“Of course, you’re always painting or reading.” Mark chuckled deeply.
You looked over your shoulder and up at him, smirking knowingly “You’re not wrong.”
Mark let out another laugh, one with a new and different tone.
You thought it was from your comment, but then he pointed to your cheek. “You got a little paint...right there.”
Before you could quickly reach up with the back of your hand, he did. Mark reached out and wiped a smear of grey paint off your cheek with his thumb. His fingers lingered for a second longer than needed, brushing down your jawline.
You froze at the contact and the way he was smiling at you like it was so normal. He held eye contact with you, a softness in his eyes. A heat rose to your face.
“Well um, I just came to check on you. Dinner is in a couple of hours. I have a little bit of work left for the day.” He folded his hands behind him and made his way to the door, “I’ll let you get back to your painting. Don’t let me distract you.”
You stuttered, still lost in how his hand and his eyes had lingered. “Alright. I’ll see you soon.”
You wanted him to stay.
But he gave you another smile before leaving and closing the door behind him.
Why does he have to have such a pretty smile? You thought, feeling the slightest bit of weakness in your limbs.
Ethan had come up to tell you that dinner would be served soon. So you changed out of your paint-stained comfy clothes and put on something nicer before making your way to the dining room. After slipping on a casual dress and scrubbing the dried paint off your hands, you made your way downstairs.
Upon entering, you found that Mark was already sitting in his chair at the head of the table. Ethan was opening a bottle of wine, semi struggling with the cork. The two of them broke into a little bubble of laughter.
Mark looked up at you with bright eyes, “Ah, there you are. I was just telling Ethan that we might have had to send a search party for you.”
Ethan chimed in just as he was successful with opening the bottle, “And I said that the search would not last long. You were cooped up in your studio all day, lost in your painting.”
You smiled at that.
You sat down in the spot you always sat. Right beside Mark on his left at the long table. The place settings were already laid out with precision and Ethan began to pour the deep red liquid into your wine glass, then Mark’s.
“Dinner will be out shortly.” And with that, Ethan walked through the door that connected the dining room and the kitchen. You could hear Chef call his name as the door swung closed.
“How is your new painting coming?” Mark asked, taking a sip of his wine while looking at you over the top of his glass the whole time.
“It’s done now. Thanks for the idea.”
“You’re going to have to show me the finished product later. I love your paintings.” Mark fiddled with his napkin before placing it on his lap.
“Absolutely.” You did the same with your napkin before trying the wine for yourself.
The door to the kitchen burst open and you were greeted by the smile of Chef, who was carrying the main course with two hands. Ethan followed closely behind balancing the side dishes on his arms like a rushed waiter.
“Dinner is served!”
Chef was a true character. He always seemed to have so much energy all the time. He was an amazing cook and always experimented with new things, making you excited to see what he had up his sleeve for the day. He was funny but seemed like he could beat up anyone who came between him and his kitchen. If someone made a mess in there, they were sure to be taught a lesson.
He had this look in his eyes that was sometimes unsettling, but you knew that if you did not get in his way then you would be fine.
The food was set in front of you, Chef and Mark sparking up a conversation while Ethan struggled with the multiple dishes he had to carry on his own. While Chef was describing what he decided to make today, Ethan stuck a match and began to light a few candles on the table.
Mark insisted that the two of you could serve yourselves from now on and shooed his butler and chef away to go have their own dinner. You thanked both of them, and they disappeared into the kitchen.
Everything looked delicious, as always, and you picked out what you wanted. Mark did as well, in small portions. At dinner, Mark talked more than he ate.
But you loved it when he talked.
In no time, Mark had been going on about something that popped into his mind. And you ate while he began to tell you a story. One about a heist. Two people on a mission to retrieve a special mysterious box. And he went on about how he has heard multiple versions of this story from different people. One about how the main characters end up in prison. One where they run into zombies. One where they end up stranded on an island. In all the versions, something different was inside the box, Mark going on a tangent on what most likely would have been in the box for each outcome.
You found yourself leaning in towards him while he talked, listening intensively the entire time. You loved the story, as you did all the stories that he told over dinner. And you loved how he talked, so in tune and so dedicated. That gorgeous smile never leaving his face. When he struggled to keep in his laughter while speaking sometimes. The low tone of his voice making it all so enticing and beautiful. The glint of joy in his eyes that sparkled so brightly.
It made yourself realize that there was something that made your heart quicken whenever you saw his face, heard his voice.
The battleground was laid out. Fallen soldiers everywhere. Threats coming from the left and right. A tough fight was underway. Both your eyes and Mark’s eyes were dashing between each other and the board between you, burning with concentration and hidden thoughts.
And he had a damn good poker face.
After dinner, you and Mark found yourselves in one of the drawing rooms, deep in the heart of a chess match. It was now after dusk and dark outside. The fireplace was lit and roaring behind you, bringing the energy of comfort to the room. A nice quiet evening, even though you were struggling internally.
You tried to keep the neutral expression while you plan your next turn. Inside you felt the build-up of stress and it felt like your brain was doing gymnastics. You struggled to find a flaw in his current position, his black pieces on the board tangled with your white in a dance of the unknown.
Mark was good. Too good. But you were doing your best to keep up, catch his traps and taking his pieces as best you could when he slipped up.
But the smirk that was currently threatening to tug up at the corners of his lips told you that you were in trouble. Something was happening that you could not see. You did not like it, the pressure was building as you tried to plan what to do.
“Take your time.” He said into the quiet and the fireplace crackled in the background.
He was egging you on.
You shot him a look. He sent you one right back, the smirk fully appeared on his lips. The stinging frustration in you wanted to slap it off his face.
You had to be careful even though you had no idea what to do.
It did not help that the looming feeling of him watching you think was making you feel certain things. You became self-conscious of everything your body is doing. How your hand hovered over your pieces. How one of your legs were crossed over the other and how you rested your chin in your other hand. How you were humming in thought on occasion.
His gaze was just that powerful, but you tried to push it down so you could make a move against him.
Making your final decision for the move, you moved your last white bishop across the board.
He then delicately captured it with his black queen.
Sure enough, he had your king trapped with his queen as well as with a rook that you completely forgot about. It all went over your head, and just like that it was over.
“Dammit.” You leaned back and slouched in your seat, running a hand through your hair.
Mark let out a friendly laugh of satisfaction. It rippled through the air and sounded like music.
“Good game,” He then said, “you did really well.”
You shrugged, “I did my best. Can’t believe I fell for that, though.”
“It was a tight game, I don’t blame you.”
“Takes a lot of thinking. Feels like a real battlefield with how complex it can get. And the tension.”
“Luckily, you’re beyond smart enough for it.” Mark shrugged, “But you’re gonna have to try a little harder if you’re going to beat me.”
You chuckled. You stood up from your chair, “I’m gonna go to the washroom. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here.” He smiled that beautiful smile up at you.
“When I’m back, I demand a rematch.”
“Alright then. I’ll send Ethan up for some drinks, we could be here all night.”
“Sounds good, Mark.”
He watched you leave. As soon as the door swung closed, he waited a second.
Dark snapped his fingers and the chess pieces began to rearrange themselves. Each piece floated back to their starting positions. He watched them dance around each other before all the black was once again on his side and the white on the opposite.
Then he began to play around, focusing his hand on making the white queen rise up off the board. Alongside it, he pulled up the black king. They floated where he made them float, let them dance above the board.
In a flicker of red and blue glitches in his vision, the king and queen turned into black and white bishop pieces. Dark’s annoyance made him clench his fist quickly and tightly, making those pieces shatter like glass. The shards that rained onto the board disappeared with a wave of his hand.
He conjured up a new king and a new queen so you both could continue playing once you came back, and gently set them in their proper squares.
Wandering thoughts have been making Dark feel uneasy lately. Like something was out of place in the manor. He did not know why or where those thoughts were coming from. Invading seconds of his day from time to time.
But it kept reminding him that they are still out there. That they might try to do something.
But everything went so well, he had played his pieces just right. He made sure every move had its purpose. And here he was, successful. He had already won his prize. Nothing to worry about.
The game was over, and he had won.
Tags: @captncappuccino @just-call-me-the-mad-genius @ashleyjoyyy @authorracheljoy
Comment to be added to the tag list!
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This happens all the time. I can never resist to throw in a little detail, that only I will know about, to make myself smile while making others smile.
Here’s a thing I love.
I love when fic writers leave a little bit of themselves behind, in the songs the characters listen to or the breakfast they eat, the childhood toy or odd best friend. It fits as good as canon, but if you’re listening, these writers are leaving us little glimpses of their authentic selves, tucked away into the lives of our beloved characters, no so that we’ll like them too, but because these songs and faces and flaws are worthy of attention. If our heroes were real, their taste would be at least as good as ours, their lives at least as idiosyncratic. And we’d matter to them just as much as they do to us.
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REQUESTS NOW OPEN
Requests for reader inserts are now open, so go and drop them in my ask box! I will be taking Star Wars characters, Marvel characters, and anyone I already write for!
Also, Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate. And happy holidays to everyone and I wish you all a lovely rest of the year. Thank you :3
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Pairing: Poe Dameron X Fem!Reader
Description: Modern AU! You and Poe spend Christmas morning together all cozy with your blankets and sweaters, and your puppy at your feet.
Warnings: CHRISTMAS FLUFF
Word Count: 0.7k
A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone! I love you!
Part of my Dec 2020 Holiday One Shot Schedule/Master List
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
The look on Poe’s face when he opened the gift, the one you knew he would love the most, was priceless. You never thought you would get him an ugly Christmas sweater as one of his gifts this year, but once you saw the adorable corgi face right in the middle of it you knew you had to buy it for him. The instant connection was made when he saw the pup that resembled his own, and a huge smile had spread across his face.
Because of this, you had thrown on your own cozy comfort sweater (that was one of Poe’s that you often ‘borrowed’) and got ready to cuddle up with your man and your puppy on this white Christmas morning.
BB was currently running around the living room, playing with the leftover wrapping paper and tissue paper from the morning unwrapping. The corgi had a new tug rope and a new squeaking stuffed penguin to play with, but he rather wrestle and tear at the paper that you and Poe did not bother to clean up yet. BB also got a new sweater for Christmas, a little candy cane patterned sweater that fit his little chubby body perfectly.
Poe was in the kitchen making more coffee for the two of you, while you scouted your shared apartment for throw blankets.
You picked two off of your shared bed, the two fluffiest one in the the whole apartment. They were there for the recent cold winter nights, when the comforter, sheets, and cuddles from Poe was not enough to keep you warm when low temperatures hit. There was one extra that you kept in the closet, so you got that one on your way out as well.
The last one was supposed to be on the couch. But it was not where you left it when opening gifts. After a few seconds of wondering where it was, a bark brought your attention to BB still playing around the floor. The last throw blanket had fallen onto the floor among the dog-mangled wrapping paper, and BB was sitting on it. You pulled on the edge of it, urging the pup to get off of it, and he went right back to running through paper.
“Do we need that many blankets?” Poe came into the living room with two cups of coffee, seeing you already getting cozy on the couch.
“Yea,” You said, “It’s cold.”
Poe put the mugs on the coffee table. He looked over and saw you pulling your blankets to the side as an invitation for him to join you. With a smile, he sat right beside you, let the blankets cover his legs, and wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheek. “Warm now?”
You smiled at him, “Yes.”
He slid one hand up to your cheek so he could turn your head and make your lips meet his. You giggled into the kiss, and felt Poe’s other hand rest on your side.
BB insisted on being involved, so the corgi leaped up onto the couch and climbed onto the heap of blankets. He sat right on your feet, giving you no chance at moving them for the next while.
“Thank you for the BB sweater,” Poe laughed.
“I knew you would love it.”
“It’s perfect,” Poe’s smile was beautiful.
You leaned into him, his sweater making him warm and cuddly. A lazy Christmas morning with your favourite things was just what you wanted. You have your two favourite boys, cozy sweaters and blankets, and coffee. Nothing could be better. You were thankful for everything.
Poe nuzzled into your neck, leaving little lazy kisses wherever his lips touched, “Merry Christmas, baby.”
Your plans for the day were to have a lazy Christmas, and you were excited for it.
“I have an idea,” Poe reached over and picked up his phone. He pulled up the camera and turned it to selfie mode. “A little Christmas pic for everyone.”
You were instantly on board, and you picked up BB to be in the photo too.
The cute Christmas morning picture of the three of you was absolutely adorable, showing off everyone’s cozy sweaters and holiday spirit. Poe made sure to send it to family and friends, as well as posting it on his Instagram story, all instances with the caption:
‘Merry Christmas from the Damerons’
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Pairing: Mando X Fem!Reader
Description: Din has a nightmare that makes his blood run cold, but seeing you and the child safe reassures him. But the two of you are freezing, and Din has to do something.
Warnings: Images of beating, pain, and death (its short) / Spoilers for Chapter 10: The Passenger
Word Count: 1.0k
A/N: More Mando because the last one got so much love THANK YOU also I love him so much sooooo | Uses the prompt “Cold” from @dindjarindiaries Dincember prompts!
Part of my 2020 December Holiday One Shots Schedule / Master List
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
Gif by @emys-123
Din couldn’t move. It felt like his beskar was a cage rather than for protection, restraining him underneath its pure metal. Just standing still, unable to lift a boot off the ground or a single finger. Stuck inside the armour, a sense of panic beginning to swirl around inside the helmet.
He hated everything about it. And it was so damn cold, he could not feel a thing.
The visor was beginning to fog up with his quick breathing. The piercing cold that was coming from outside his armour, or the panic he felt, he could not tell the difference. Regardless, his lungs huffed and his chest pounded hard.
But then he heard a scream, shaking him to dart his eyes around. He couldn't see anything. He was trapped in darkness and low temperatures.
The pitch, tone, and energy of the voice of the scream was familiar, his mind put the voice to the face in a split second.
And any warmth had drained from him, his entire body as cold as a corpse.
Din then heard a crack. The cry of agony that followed was ear-splitting. There was also a baby crying. The owner of the first cry began to breathe heavily before slowing.
He wanted to yell out himself, lash out, the instinct to lunge to protect the owners of the cries and screams. But his own body restrained him.
The darkness and the cold combined were too strong, his mind now struggling to grasp what was happening. Now he could not place what direction any of the sounds were coming from. The left? The right? Din did not even know which way was up or down anymore.
Trapped in a hurricane of cold, crying, and physical limitations under the armour.
The baby’s crying stopped abruptly after a muffled blow. And the other set of cries, that had been reduced to a slow and quiet gasping, had disappeared.
Everything was quiet again, except for Din’s own panicked breaths.
When Din jolted awake with a gasp, his helmet hit the metal wall behind his head creating a loud ‘tink’ sound. It was then he realized that he could move again.
Heavy breathing fogged up his visor, just like in the dream. It took him a second to realize where he was, the fog fading once his breathing gained a regular pattern once again. He was inside the hull of his ship, which was a complete mess with the cargo tossed and frost covering every inch. Flakes of snow and waves of cold air blew in from the opening in the side of the ship caused from the crash.
Across from him, he could see the frog lady, a blanket over her canister of eggs, asleep and shivering.
Panic almost returned to him before he felt a slight shuffle to his left. Underneath a thick blanket, clinging to his side, there you were fast asleep. Sandwiched between you and him was the baby, his little ears poking out of the blanket. The two of you were shivering, you cuddling the baby and his little hands grasping your sleeve in his sleep.
Din took a deep breath, filling his lungs with a much-needed intake of air. The heavy breath came out, fogging up his visor again and a heavy sigh coming out of his modulator.
It was absolutely freezing in here. Okay, so the temperature got through to his dream, it was not just him being overcome with fear. You and the baby were in no real danger. Just a nightmare. The cold must be getting to him.
The beskar was not helping, the conductor for the freezing temperature was accumulating frost.
Din reached over to adjust the blanket that had fallen off your shoulder. Looking closer, he could see flakes of frost on your hair and eyelashes. There was also some on the tips of the ears of the Child. The frost that had formed over everything showed just how cold the hull had become.
The thought of pulling your sleeping body closer to him crossed his mind, but he did not want his freezing cold armour to touch you. So he kept you where you and the child were, hoping that the one blanket was enough. You continued to shiver, so did the baby.
Din did not like the sight.
So he came up with an idea. He began to take off plates of his cold armour, making sure his movements did not disturb you or the child. The plates from his shoulder, chest, arms, and everything else but his helmet came off. He placed them aside on a nearby overturned crate. Even his gloves could not prevent him from feeling the metal that was now colder than ice.
Feeling lighter, Din made sure no cold metal was left on his body besides the helmet. He than carefully wrapped his arm around your shoulders, slowly as to not wake you up, and pulled you closer to him. Soon you were nuzzled into his side fully and the baby resting on his thigh. He made sure his cloak blocked any more cold air, pulling it over himself to cover you and the baby.
Things were already starting to warm back up, the combined body heat from the three of you making things more toasty.
He needed to get you all out of here. He did not want any of you to freeze to death. And he needed to get the frog lady where she needed to go, so he still had a job to do.
He told himself that he will never, ever, let any harm come to the child or you as long as he is alive. But to protect you from the cold, there was little he could do now. Blankets and his body heat could only last so long while being on this ice planet.
So he rested some more while cuddled up with you two, the nightmare not coming back but the memory of it reminding him to keep his little clan safe in every way he could.
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