#hopefully i can post it before the weekend and be FREE at last

[caitlynmeow]

final diary entry is at 50% finished lmao lets go guyssssss

#time to put this one to rest #it's been A RIDE #i also have an announcement to make after #hopefully i can post it before the weekend and be FREE at last #personal #writing woes

[narryffdreaming]

A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — ONE

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

Author's note: You have no idea how much I love these characters and how nervous I am to finally share this story again. I posted ATTTF for the first time back in 2022 but never got to finish it, so I'm hoping I'll get to do it this time! If you read this, I hope you enjoy it, and please be gentle with them! (lol)

PART ONE: 5,4k words

The sky is still dark when the Uber driver drops Aurora off at Stansted airport. 

The polite man, who just kept her company for an hour and a half, wishes her a safe trip, and Aurora smiles, waving him a last goodbye and wishing him a good day right before she shuts the door of his black Toyota Prius. Once alone, a light breeze tickles her shoulders, but she doesn't give it enough time to settle as she rearranges the strap of the navy duffel bag on her shoulder and turns around, then sets her feet into motion.

Hopefully, she isn't late. She doesn't think she is. She left the house forty minutes before she needed to, and the ride to get there was shorter than expected because of the early hour, so she shouldn't be. 

Still, she wants to make sure. 

Just in case. 

You can blame it on the fact that she hasn't spent a weekend with her friends in years. Or that it is the first time she's going out since… Well, since everything in her life turned upside down.  

The strap of her bag slips from her shoulder, and Aurora catches it between her fingers. She puts it back in place and tightens her grip around the soft fabric, turning sideways to squeeze herself between a group of people that's happily chatting on the sidewalk. An apology leaves her mouth as she runs past them, but they don't seem to care nor notice they're standing in her way — or in everyone's way. 

Has the Stansted airport always been this crowded?

The lights are bright outside, and the glass walls reveal how equally well-lit it is inside the terminal building. When she reaches the automatic doors, they take a moment to open, and she stops. It gives her enough time to catch a glimpse of her reflection, and her stomach quivers. Her hair is messy, the sports bag she's carrying doesn't match the maxi dress she's wearing, and she's showing off too much cleavage for a woman her age. 

Those are too many things to notice in one quick glance, and she wishes she hadn't. Still, it is too early in the morning to feel insecure about the way she looks, and she doesn't have time for that. She has a flight to catch. 

(Also, she really needs to pee right now.)

So she breathes in deeply and darts her eyes down, then takes her free hand up to her chest and pulls the fabric up. When she moves next, she keeps her sight fixed on the floor, then grabs the pendant of her necklace between her fingers and walks through the doors, biting the flesh inside of her cheek and fidgeting with the gold disk as her feet drag her inside the airport. 

Everything feels slow and heavy. And there's a mix of nervousness and anticipation that's building up inside her. It's unsettling, but it keeps her moving, at least. 

Once inside, Aurora looks up again. She turns her head to one side, then to the other, short nails never letting go of her necklace. 

The wide open area in front of her leads to multiple check-in desks from several different airlines, but she ignores all of them, aiming solemnly on the huge departure boards placed around the terminal. 

She doesn't have any luggage to drop, and her boarding pass is printed and ready inside her bag — and, just in case, there's also a copy of it saved on her phone — but she wants to make sure she won't be running late if she takes another five minutes for a quick run to the toilets before standing in line to get through security. 

Her determination drives her forward, and she only stops walking when she's right in front of the closest monitor. She blinks a couple of times, making sense of all the information while searching for the only flight she cares about. And it only takes her a minute till she finds it: 

6:45, Ryanair, Naples. 

She drops her shoulders, and a yawn eases from her mouth, along with a shaky laughter. 

She is fine. Everything's just fine. Desks aren't even open for check-in yet, so she has plenty of time to go to the bathroom and wake herself up. There's no need to collapse.

At some point she'll have to face the fact that she didn't sleep at all last night, but she plans to keep herself together and entertained until she's settled on her 2 hours and 45 minutes flight. 

Then, she'll sleep.

Aurora turns around, and wanders her eyes to find the nearest toilets. She can't tell when was the last time she's been at Stansted Airport, but everything feels different from what she remembers. Did they go through renovations? Or has it always been big and hectic like this? 

Well, it's not like Aurora is familiar with airports, anyway. She doesn't travel that much, and London has too many of them for her to get familiar with. The last time she went somewhere — anywhere — was for Noah's birthday, when she and Zack took him to Disneyland Paris for a quick celebration. They took a flight from Heathrow, though, and that place was so big that it did nothing but overwhelm her. So much that she barely remembers it. 

Her chest tightens, and she closes her hand in a fist around the pendant. 

A lot has changed since Noah's third birthday. In fact, everything changed because of Noah's third birthday. And things never stopped changing since then. Not even a year and a month later. 

Oh God… In a couple of years she is going to be sitting on a leather couch, facing the traumatizing memories she and Zack created for him and apologizing for ruining his childhood. 

She knows she will. She can see it happening. 

A man bumps into her, and Aurora stumbles forward. She looks over her shoulder and apologizes, but he isn't around to listen anymore. Sighing, she lets go of her necklace and shifts her bag from one shoulder to the other, holding the strap to keep it firmly in place.

What was she even—Oh, toilets!

Right!

She shakes her head. 

It takes her another minute until she sees some directions that will help her get there, and then she's walking again. 

The toilets she's heading to are placed in a much quieter area, where even the lights are dim. Only a few people are there, seemingly waiting for time to pass — some occupying themselves with their phones on the chairs, but most of them laying on the floor, sleeping next to their luggage or using their backpacks as pillows. A baby cries somewhere distant in the terminal, and there's some coughing coming from a corner behind her, but besides that, everything's quiet. 

She reaches the door at the exact moment a lady is walking out, and she almost bumps into her. They exchange polite smiles, and Aurora takes a step aside to make room for her to walk by. Once the lady is off her way, Aurora moves inside, then lets the door shut behind her, and everything goes silent.  

The room is bright again, and someone must've just cleaned the place, because the smell of disinfectant is fresh and strong. 

Aurora sighs. She heads to the last stall, walking past a row of other six on her way there.

After relieving herself, she stops by the sinks and washes her hands, taking the opportunity to look around her. And mostly to look at her. 

The mirrors are big, almost covering the entire green wall between the sink and the ceiling, from side to side. To be fair, staring at her reflection doesn't sound like a good idea, but she promised she would try her best to go into the weekend with a positive mindset, and she can't do that while feeling so insecure about herself.

She lets the duffel bag slide down her arm and places it between her legs, then crouches to find her washcloth inside it. Holding the soft fabric between her fingers, she closes the zipper and stands up again. 

Public toilets aren't the ideal places for skincare routines, but she's determined to do the best of whatever she can get. She places the washcloth on her shoulder and grabs the hair tie from her wrist, pulling her locks into a bun and getting them out of her way. Hunching down, she turns the tap on and puts her hands together, filling them with water before splashing it on her face. The coldness makes her wince, but it also makes her shoulders relax, and she pulls her lips into a timid smile. 

She repeats the same process three times before grabbing the washcloth again and placing it against her skin. She doesn't rub it, but instead lets the fabric soak in the dampness. Finally putting her hands down, she looks at her reflection in the mirror, and bites the insides of her cheek. Her face looks more alive now that she's freshened up, but the rest of her body doesn't feel the same.

When she'd put that maxi dress on, an hour before leaving her house, she didn't think she would end up regretting the outfit. It's been probably a decade since the last time she's put it on, sure, but it used to be one of her favorites, and she always went for it when she didn't know what to wear. She used to consider it her safe choice. 

And yet, wearing it now feels everything but safe. 

It also doesn't feel nearly as comfortable as it used to. Maybe it's because of the straps… She never wears sleeveless outfits anymore, let alone something that's held by such a thin string of fabric. And the V neck… Oh God. How did she walk around London showing off her chest so comfortably? How did she go to class not bothering about people being able to see the curve of her breasts?

Even its color shade looks weird now, and she's not sure she enjoys how that rust red looks on her anymore. Her body hasn't seen the sun in a really long time, and her skin doesn't look very appealing — it's dry, and filled with stretch marks. 

Honestly, the full length and loose fit are the only things she can still appreciate from the dress — although around her waist it doesn't feel as loose as it used to feel before.

Shit. Did she even pack one thing that's going to make her feel good about herself in Italy? 

No, of course she didn't. Because Madison was the one who helped her pack for the weekend, so of course all of her choices included the tiniest, brightest and most provocative outfits that were hidden and forgotten inside of her closet since… Well, basically since Aurora stopped being single, to be honest. 

"You need to loosen up," she'd said. Along with "you're divorced, not dead," and "your tits need to see the sun; they are gorgeous, they deserve it". 

Alone inside the restroom, Aurora rolls her eyes at the memory of her best friend's words. Obviously, the whole chit-chat did nothing to convince her. Most of the old clothes Maddie had found hadn't seen the light of day in almost a decade, and Aurora doesn't have the same body she used to have back then to simply put them on again. 

Not to mention she doesn't want Noah to ever see her wearing any of those outfits. It's not the image of a mother she wants him to remember. And she's been already messing up so many things for him, that she doesn't need to add "being an embarrassing mom" to the list — and she won't add an accusation of excessively exposing her son to his own mother's naked body in those future therapy sessions she already knows she'll be paying for. 

Call it damage control, if you want to. After all, that's how she's facing it herself.

But then Maddie had put her hands on her shoulders, stared deeply into her eyes, and said: "it's going to be us. Just us. It's the perfect and safest place to have some fun and try out of your comfort zone. And you and I both know how much you need it right now." And Aurora couldn't fight her on that, so she said yes and agreed to put all of her jeans and t-shirts away for the weekend — which she can now confirm was a terrible, terrible decision.

She sighs. Again. 

It's going to be a long weekend, isn't it? 

Still examining herself, she turns around and looks over her shoulder, facing her back on the mirror. Fortunately, it doesn't show too much skin, although the flesh of her armpits could be more covered. 

There was a time when Aurora felt breezy and comfortable on her own body. When she looked at herself and felt beautiful and free. Even sexy. Now, though, the simple thought makes her laugh. It sounds ridiculous, and she can't even make sense of it. 

Biting her lip, she turns around one more time, and something catches her eye. She stops midway, narrowing her eyes to find out what it is, and then, she raises her eyebrows, and a spark of hope ignites inside her — she completely forgot about the adjustable straps! 

Fully turning around, she squats down and puts the washcloth away, then stands up, already reaching both hands towards her back to tighten and shorten the strings. It isn't easy, and for a moment she even considers to hide inside of a stool and take the dress off to do it more comfortably, but eventually she succeeds, and the slight change instantly makes her chest feel more covered. 

It's a small win, but Aurora is serious about making the best of whatever she can get that weekend, so she takes it, and smiles at her reflection. 

The gold disk shines on her chest, and she takes it between her fingers, pulling it to her mouth and placing a soft kiss to it. She's really going to miss spending the weekend with Noah, but she knows she needs to take care of herself to be able to take care of him, and that it's also important for him to spend some time with his dad. Besides, it's only going to be three days — not even that. By Sunday afternoon she'll be back home with him, and everything will go back to normal.

Yes, see? That's it: two days.

Two relaxing and fun days with her friends, and then everything will go back to normal.

The line to get through security is huge. 

Aurora stops behind a chatty and cheerful family of five, and sighs. She puts her frizzy hair down, then crosses her arms under her chest and lifts one hand to fidget aimlessly with her pendant. 

Honestly? She can't wait to get to Italy. She can't wait to finally see that beautiful ocean in the Amalfi Coast. It's a trip she always dreamed about, but also one she didn't think would actually happen — and one she's sure she wouldn't be actually embarking on if she hadn't been forced to by her friends.

Aurora's mouth turns into a smile, and she looks at the ground, taking the pendant to cover her lips. 

Despite everything that went wrong with her own marriage, she is happy for Lucy and Theo. She truly is. Just because things didn't work out for her, it doesn't mean they won't for them. Besides, their relationship is the only thing between all of them that hasn't changed since their graduation, so who knows? Maybe they'll have better luck than her and Zack. Maybe Lucy won't mess things up like she did, and maybe Theo won't— 

"Auri?" a deep and low voice calls. Aurora furrows her brows and takes her hand down from her lips, putting her necklace back to its place. "Aurora?"

She turns on her feet, finding flamingos on a loose black shirt. Blinking a couple of times, she darts her eyes up, and meets the face of a friend she hasn't thought of in a really long time. 

She widens her eyes, and places the palm of her hand on her cheek.

"Oh my God," she whispers. She raises her eyebrows, and her mouth curves into a smile at the same time it falls open. "Harry!" 

She breathes out a laugh and takes a step forward, then stands on her tiptoes and throws her arms around his neck. 

The duffel bag on her shoulder follows the movement of her body, hitting Harry's stomach before she can stop it.

"Ouch," he groans into her ear.

Aurora pulls away. "Sorry, sorry—"

He chuckles, hunching down slightly and placing his hands in the middle of her back. 

"'S okay, c'mere," he says, pulling her body closer and crossing his arms around her waist, embracing her into a tight hug. 

Heat takes over her body, radiating through her chest and tingling from head to toe. It's so good to see him! She can't help the smile that lightens up her face, so she closes her eyes and rests her chin on his shoulder, circling his neck with the same affection he's putting into his hold. 

"What are you doing here?!" she asks, still too excited to let him go. 

Did he get even taller? 

Or is he just stronger than he used to be?

"Probably the same thing as you?" Harry chuckles. 

Shit. She's so stupid! Of course Harry would be at Lucy and Theo's party. Of course! After all, he was part of the group, too. Sure, maybe the last to join and the youngest of them all, and also the only one living across the world, but still… He was—he is part of the group. And Lucy and Theo would invite him, too. Of course they would. How didn't she think of him when thinking about the weekend? 

"Don't wanna break the moment," Harry murmurs, rubbing his hand up and down her back, "but I think we gotta walk." 

Aurora jumps away, holding her weight on his shoulder and twisting her neck to see the line ahead of her. She slides her fingers down, watching as the family of five gathers their things. They aren't rushing, though, and it doesn't seem like they'll be taking more than two steps forward.

Still smiling, she bites her bottom lip to keep her excitement down, then looks back at him.

Harry is standing with his arms loose on each side of his body, chin down while he stares down at his chest.

Following his sight, Aurora finds her own hand, and she widens her eyes. She's clutching at the second button, where both sides of his black shirt with pink flamingos meet. His hairy chest is on display, just like tiny bits of black ink tattooed on his skin and the long golden string of a necklace. 

A rush runs through her fingers, and she withdraws her arm. 

"Sorry," she whispers, pulling her hand to her own chest and squeezing it into a fist.  

Harry clears his throat. 

"'S okay," he murmurs. Without looking at her, he straightens his back and stretches an arm, pointing out to the empty space in front of them. "Shall we?"

Aurora moves quickly, shuffling on her feet and nodding in silence. She turns around, and the strap of her bag falls from her shoulder, dropping to the crook of her arm. She winces, and stumbles a little. 

"Shit."

"Here," Harry says, and the weight on her elbow disappears. "Let me."

Frozen, she watches — and feels — the way he gently grabs her wrist and takes her bag out of her arm, pulling it to himself. 

"Harry…" She drops her shoulders. "You don't have to."

"Just walk, c'mon. We're holding the line."

Aurora peeks over his shoulder, and certainly people don't seem friendly while watching them. She sighs, but turns around and walks. 

It only takes them three steps to reach the family of five once again, though, and she's back to facing him. 

Harry is rearranging the straps on his shoulders, holding two duffel bags now — his own, and hers. 

"Okay," she says, stretching her arm to him, "now give me that." 

He chuckles, and dodges her. "Nope."

"C'mon!" She rolls her eyes, but a smile dances on her lips. "I can carry my own bag, okay?" 

Harry shrugs. "Never said you couldn't." 

She sighs, and tilts her head. "Harry…" 

"Will you stop being stubborn?" 

Harry grins widely, contrasting his words, and his eyes brighten with amusement. 

Aurora lifts her brows and parts her lips. A shaky chuckle coming out of her mouth. "I—Excuse me?"

Harry diverts his eyes somewhere behind her, and he tilts his chin up. 

"C'mon, we gotta walk again."

Lifting her left eyebrow, Aurora crosses her arms, and stares silently at him.

Harry glances back at her, then presses his lips together, watching her for a moment as he wanders his eyes around her face. He purses his mouth, and then he cracks into soft, genuine laughter. 

"Ha!" He throws his head back for a moment, chuckling lightly, then looks back at her. "I totally forgot you could do that."

Aurora's beaming, just like him, but her heart is racing, and her breath gets stuck in her throat. His smile is really contagious, framed by deep dimples on his cheeks and wrinkles all around his eyes. It's hard not to feel mesmerized by it.

"Uh…" She blinks a couple of times. "Do what, exactly?" 

He walks, prompting her to walk along with him. Still smiling, he points a finger up, right to her face. "The thing… Y'know. With your eyebrow." 

"Oh…" Aurora widens her eyes for a second. "Right." 

She laughs and shakes her head, relaxing the muscles of her entire body, including her face. 

She takes one hand to her forehead, and rubs the tip of her middle finger on her left eyebrow. Even though it's something she used to intentionally do pretty often when she was younger, usually to prove a point, it was also something that came up so naturally to her that she never paid too much attention to it. And a habit that, with time, she left behind. However, now that she found out Noah thinks it's super cool that his mom can lift only one eyebrow while most people can't, she's been consciously doing it more often. She never cared about being a cool mom, to be honest, but lately it seems the title started to mean something to her. 

They stop walking, much closer to the metal detectors now, and Aurora stretches her arm again. She doesn't say a word, simply reaching for the strap of her bag on his shoulder.

"Auri..." Harry chuckles. He grabs her wrist between his fingers, then slides his touch to her hand, taking it to his mouth. He places a single kiss on her knuckles, and looks at her. "Please, 's nothing. I promise."

Aurora presses her lips together tightly, words getting stuck on her throat. It only lasted a second, but it was enough to keep the warmth of his lips lingering onto her cold skin.

"Okay." She nods. Her voice is softer, and she looks down to smile. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he says, taking her hand down and gently letting it go. "Did you bring a jacket?" 

Raising her head, Aurora narrows her eyes, and meets his stare. "What?"

"Your hand's really cold." He shrugs. "Do you want my jacket?"

Aurora chuckles, and waves him off. "Oh no, I'm fine. My hands are always cold."

Harry pulls his brows together. He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly shuts it again.

"Anyway…" She clears her throat. "How are you? We haven't talked in… I don't know… Five? Six years?"

Harry looks down and nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Around that, yeah." 

"Hmm… Well, I had no idea you were back in the UK!"

"Uh, yeah." He shifts on his feet, and shrugs. "Came back a couple of weeks ago, actually. Haven't seen anyone yet."

Taking one hand out of his pockets, he lifts his arm and scratches his jaw. The movement draws Aurora's attention to the facial hair he seems to be growing, but also to his chipped yellow nail polish and the three rings he's carrying on his fingers. And when he rakes the same hand through his curls, pulling his hair away from his face, she notices the amount of new tattoos covering his slightly tanned skin. 

His movements are subtle, almost timid, but Aurora is hypnotized. She hasn't seen him since… Damn, when was the last time she saw him? He was at her wedding, she remembers that, because she remembers the floral-printed suit he was wearing, and that his hair used to be longer than—  

Aurora gasps, and Harry jolts. 

"What?" 

"Your hair!" Uncrossing her arms, she takes a step forward. She stands on her tiptoes and reaches for his head, touching the tips of his short curls while switching her voice to a soft murmur, "It's so… Short."

Harry shoves his hand back inside his pocket, but doesn't say anything, and Aurora entertains herself stroking the hair at the back of his neck, and then pulling some longer bits around his ears. 

"Oh my God…" she murmurs again.

For as long as she's known Harry, she's known him with curls long enough to french braid, pull into buns and even attempt some ponytails — he hated the last ones, by the way. The girls used to tease him for having softer and shiner hair than any of them, and they all even went through a phase of trying to use the same hair products as him. 

And yet, looking at him now, she's not sure if there's length enough for even a hair clip. Well, maybe a tiny one, to keep those curls that fall into his forehead out of the way… But still… 

"The line," Harry murmurs. 

Aurora pulls her arm to her chest, and lands her heels back on the floor. 

"Right."

She turns around and takes a couple of steps forward, and an unsettling feeling grows in the pit of her stomach. It squeezes her lungs, and it makes her mouth go dry, so she presses her lips into a hard line and swallows. Then, she takes a deep breath in. And another one.

There's silence between them, until Harry clears his throat. 

"I cut it as soon as I left," he explains, and Aurora glances at him over her shoulder. "I think this is the longest it's been since then." He shrugs. "I'll probably do something about it next week."

Aurora hums, and curls one side of her mouth up. 

"You got a lot of new tattoos, as well."

Harry smiles, albeit sheepishly, and nods once. "Guess I did."

Facing away from him, Aurora can't help but smile again.

What a weird thing it is, to stand in front of Harry after so many years and find everything about him so familiar, yet completely different and strange at the same time. To have grown so distant from his friendship, and yet feel as close to him as she's ever felt before. 

How could she forget about him? 

How could she go through life without thinking about a friend? Without wondering about how they are, or what's going on with their lives?

Shit. 

Tapping one foot on the floor, she grabs her necklace between her fingers. 

She can't spiral into this right now. She hates coming face to face with the person she's become, and this weekend isn't for her to swell into guilt and drama. She's supposed to have fun. She's supposed to let things go. She's supposed to—  

"Auri?" 

Aurora stops the steady movement of her foot, and looks at him over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

Someone from security calls the next passenger, and she follows Harry's movements to walk forward, not even bothering to look where she's going. 

"Nothing." Harry shakes his head, dismissing the subject, but Aurora can see the way his brain is working hard to figure something out. Noah tends to do the same a lot of the time — he'll have questions, and when he doesn't understand the answer, he'll purse his lips and shift his eyes around him, as if looking for a different explanation. 

It appears Harry is going through the same process, because he keeps staring at her arms, and at her hands. And when he pinches at his bottom lip — something she recognizes as an old habit of his — it's enough for her to confirm her suspicion.

"Harry…" She chuckles and rolls her eyes, making sure to keep her voice soft as she calls him out. "Don't be silly. Just say what's on your mind, c'mon."

An amused and short laugh leaves his chest, and she smiles at the way his entire face lights up again. 

"'S nothing… I was just… Because you… I mean, you don't seem to be taking a lot of stuff… Then I realized you… Well… I was wondering…"

There's a bit of silence, and it quickly becomes clear he won't complete any of his half-sentences. 

Aurora half-smiles. "Yes?"

"Sorry." He shakes his head. "Is your husband coming, too?"

"Oh…" She lifts her brows, then puts them down again. 

She nods once, understanding where he's coming from. It is a genuine question, a very reasonable doubt. After all, the last time they saw each other was at the wedding — her wedding — and not many people know about the many changes in her life since then. So she can't expect him to know, nor blame him for asking. 

She doesn't want to say the words out loud, though. Is there a way to tell him without actually telling him?

"Hm, no," she tries. "It's just me. Zack's with Noah." 

Harry hums. He gives her a lopsided smile, and nods. 

Aurora frowns, and turns around to face the line. 

That probably wasn't helpful. It didn't announce Zack isn't in her life anymore. It just seemed like he stayed home with Noah. 

Which he did, yes, but he isn't at home with Noah. He is at his own place, a very fancy apartment he didn't struggle at all to buy after their divorce. 

Ugh! Why is it so hard for her to announce to the world that Zack isn't her husband anymore? He hasn't been for a while now, and it's not like she wishes he would still be. Honestly, figuring out her relationship with Zack keeps being exhausting, no matter how much distance she puts between them. 

Will that ever change? Will things ever get easier for her?

"How's he, by the way?" Harry's voice sounds behind her. "Noah, I mean. Just turned four, right?"

Aurora bites her lip, but it isn't enough to hold back the grin on her face.

People move forward, and they walk a couple of steps. There are only three passengers left in front of the family of five. 

Aurora nods. 

"Yes, he's four now. And he's the most adorable kid in the world! So, so, so sensitive, and so smart" —she walks forward again, but doesn't stop talking— "and now he's getting into this stage of trying to do things by himself, and it's just so endearing to watch! And he's really chatty, too, oh my. He loves telling stories, so he keeps—" 

Aurora widens her eyes, and turns around. 

Harry is beaming at her, and she covers her mouth with one hand. 

"I'm sorry," she mumbles against her palm, then puts it back down. "Sorry, sorry. I'm so—I mean, I know, I'm one of those mums now."

"What?!" Harry laughs. "I was loving it! Was even hoping you'd show me a couple of pictures."

Her cheeks warm up, and she looks at her feet. 

"Right."

Her hair falls to her face, and she takes both hands to put it behind her ears. 

Please, don't blush. 

Please, don't blush. 

Please just keep it together. 

"Hey, I mean it." He places one hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. His hand is warm, but his rings are cold and her skin tingles with goosebumps. Shit. Now, her earlier prayer becomes a silent cry of help for him not to notice her reaction. "He sounds a lot like you, by the way."

Her lips twitch, and she bites her bottom lip to hold back the stupid smile that keeps looming on her face. 

"Well… Would you really like to see some pictures? 'Cause I have plenty of them."

Peeking up at him, she finds him staring and smiling. Harry's hand is still on her shoulder, but it promptly circles her neck, grabbing her opposite side and pulling her forward. 

Aurora holds her breath, crushing against Harry's chest as he squeezes her body and kisses the top of her head. 

"God," he groans, his lips brushing her hair as they move, "you're so adorable. 'S so good to see you again."

Hii! If you're here, thank you so much for reading part one :) it truly means the world to me! I care a lot about this story and these characters, so I'd love to know your thoughts about it — and I hope you'll feel comfortable to share them with me!

Once again, thank you for reading! :)

Dani

PART TWO

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles writing

[russellsppttemplates]

Promise (Lewis Hamilton)

The season has kept Lewis so busy he hasn't been paying attention to you in the way you needed

Note: english is not my first language. After a long time on hold (since april), I'm finally posting this one. The timeline is a bit bent to fit what I already had written for what was requested, so I hope you don't mind it too much! Hopefully the person who requested this is still around and reading this ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

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Tw: mentions loss of friendships, curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going to be able to make it. Lew already asked me to go see him race that weekend, I have booked the flights and managed to clear my work schedule too", you said to your friend after she practically ambushed you into have a coffee with her after work, "c'mon, I don't even feel like we've seen eachother recently. You're either at work or with Lewis. It's like you don't have time for me, or rather don't make it", she groaned and you frowned. You met up with her not even 10 days ago, and while you couldn't see her everyday, you managed to text her back with reasonable timing everytime she had any issues or needed some comfort, so hearing those words and accusations for what you recalled the third time over the last few weeks threw you off. Was it really something you deserved? You wondered, maybe you really weren't being the best of friends given everything happening in your life.

"It's been hard, my schedule has been all over the place. I've been quite tired and I honestly just want to relax at home when I get back from work, we've had a lot of clients, which has been good for the business, but there's also been a lot more effort in making everything work smoothly", you tried to offer her your point of view, knowing yourself that there were days you could barely answer your boyfriend back simple questions, both of happy and content to either just cuddle when he was home or have a quick videocall whenever he was away, letting you get your deserved rest.

.

"Do you have everything, darling?", Lewis said over the phone as you fastened the zip on your suitcase, "yes. Angela said that she could come and meet me with my passes. Apparently there was an issue with printing them, my name or something, I'm not sure, but she said they were good now", you recalled, looking back at your boyfriend on the screen while he smiled, "I can't wait to have you here with me", he admitted, making your heart soft, "it's been really difficult, the car and all, and I know having you here will be good".

The next day, like you had arranged, you met up with Angela at the entrance of the GP, greeting her with a smile before she noticed it, "was your flight that bad?", she wondered, "you look a bit off, dear", she explained herself better, "it was okay, just had trouble sleeping because of this crazy schedule", you tried your best to brush it off. You had looked at yourself in the mirror, and had noticed the eye bags, the veins around your eyes much stronger and, truly, you knew no one would believe you were okay, but you guessed trying wouldn't be hard, and despite feeling like Angela caught on, she decided to drop the subject, handing you your pass and grabbing your suitcase once you reached the hospitality so she could store it in a safe place.

"Hey, Y/N", George smiled, greeting you as you both walked down to the garage, "Lewis mentioned you'd be joining us today", he said, opening the door for you before following you by your side, "the flight was delayed a little, and there was traffic here, or at least my driver said it isn't usually that busy, so I got here to the sound of the engines already", you pouted, grabbing a headset for yourself from the wall.

"I'll be in there with Toto and Mick, we'll speak later, okay? Carmen is also travelling tomorrow night", George said as he walked up to sit with the rest of the team, sitting this session out as they had chosen to have Frederik drive this session on his place.

The free practice sessions did not go all that well, especially considering how you knew Lewis and the whole team would have wanted them to go, so when Lewis came out of the last session, the team allowed them a few hours so they could rest up a little and get re-energised before debriefing.

"Hey, gorgeous", Lewis said as he walked up to you, "I'm so happy you're here", he mumbled against the thin skin on your neck, taking in your scent and presence as your arms wrapped around his torso.

"Do you want to talk about it?", you asked, running your fingers on his back as the slight scratch from your nails soothed him as you walked to sit on the sofa, "I can't bring the car to the front, it's like I can't do it. We've worked so hard on it, the team has come up with so many improvements and yet it still isn't reaching the front, there's no comparison", he let it put, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, "and I can't do it either, it's my fault too, I just want to make us a competitive team again, having fights every weekend for the P1, and yet, here we are".

Kissing his knuckles, you looked up at him through your lashes, "it will all add up, my love", you caressed his skin, "there's no way your efforts won't be rewarded, you just have to keep going, keep fighting, keep rising", you smiled, seeing the corner of his lips move upwards, "one day at a time, all will be well, you just have to keep going, we just have to keep going with those we love most", you muttered, joining your foreheads so they could touch.

.

Silverstone always had a big buzz around it, so you always took the week off, "remember last year? Your friends also joined us for the party", Lewis recalled as you sat in the hospitality. Media duties had long been taken care of and Lewis wanted to hang out in the meal area in case anyone needed him before you retired to his room.

"Yeah, it was a good time", you mumbled, reliving the memories in your head. You had had dinner and partied until early hours of the night with some of your friends, who were that at the time.

The previous week, your friend had been very assertive when she called you to show her displeasure of your lack of effort to meet up with her, telling you how much you had changed and how it wasn't fair that you could only meet up once or twice a month, "it's not fair to us or to our friendship, so unless this changes, I don't see how we can carry on". The accusations were not false, you recognised that you couldn't be as present as much as before, but the premise she was holding it on seemed wrong to you. And as much as it bothered you and pained you, calling it quits was the best decision in the long run. You had enough things on your plate, and having to reassure her that you were still there for her despite all the mean comments and accusations she would throw at you, wether they were about how much time you spent working or how Lewis wasn't the right person for you, was not something you wanted to endure for your own well-being.

"How is she, by the way?", Lewis questioned as he drank his water.

"We are not friends anymore, things just didn't work out", you offered quietly, not wanting to dwell much on the topic or have your boyfriend worry about one more thing.

"Y/N!", Lewis heard Carmen call, seeing his teammate's girlfriend approach you, warmly greeting him as well before he left you two alone for some catching up, "call me if you need anything", your boyfriend said, kissing the top of your head sweetly before leaving you two to speak and moving to the table where Angela was sitting.

"Is she feeling better?", Angela asked him, nodding over to you with her eyes and smiling as you spoke to the spanish women, the genuine easiness radiating from you.

"Y/N? She's been well, I think...", he said, unsure of his own answer. You hadn't talked much about how you were feeling, and he definitely wanted to follow up on what you had just been talking about when you were comfortable, but other than that, he had no clue. Work had been busier as you received more clients and you needed a little more time to rest that usual, and you had been tagging out of plans family and friends tried to make with you. Maybe Angela was right and there was something going on.

"You should talk to her, see how everything is, Lewis. I know she has a habit of bottling everything, and while I figured she'd talk to you and bring it up, and that it would help, I'm not sure it's enough", she patted his back as she allowed him to process the situation.

Later that night, back in your hotel bedroom, you had just come out of the shower, grabbing your toiletries' bag so you could moisturise your skin, propping your leg on the bed so you could rub the product into the skin as you heard Lewis walk around the room.

As you moved to adjust your towell while you put on your underwear, you felt Lewis' hands on your shoulders before his lips pressed kisses to your clean skin, his touch so soft and tender that it melted you inside.

"Can we talk about something, darling?", he asked, moving to sit in front of you, taking his place on the bed as Roscoe joined him.

"Sure, love. Are you okay? Is something wrong?", you promptly offered, ready to be all ears to his worries as Roscoe found his perfect spot on the comforter.

"It's about you, actually", he said as you pulled your top on, leaving the towell on the bathroom before coming back to sit on the bed, "what about me?", you asked, unsure of the topic was.

"How have you been? And I don't want to hear 'I'm okay' or 'just tired from work', because that's most definitely not the truth", Lewis began, holding your hand in his, "I've been so blind to all of this, and I only noticed now just how much you're being affected, and I want to know what it is and how I can help you", he gulped, "I've been so caught up in my own things and I've missed this, I'm so sorry, Y/N", he looked into your eyes.

You knew you had been unable to hide it. And now, you couldn't escape it.

Taking a deep breath, you traced the tattoos on his hand, the seamless way the ink flowed mesmerising as you allowed yourself to become vulnerable to him, opening up about your friendships and how everything at work was both the thing that has been keeping you sane and afloat, but also buried in doubt.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry I didn't notice this", Lewis apoligised, "I've been so absorbed in getting the results we need for the team, and-", you interrupted him, knowing the wasn't the one to blame.

"Lew, I didn't want to burden you with this, it's my own doing, too", you admitted, wanting to stop the whole blame spiral going on between both of you.

"Still, I should've noticed", he tsked at himself, holding you in his arms as you cuddled into his chest, "you shouldn't have to go through that alone, no one should. I want you to tell me anything that bothers you. My career is not above us, it will never be", he said as he looked into your eyes, "and, for all that matters, the decision to end the friendship was for the better. And I know you know this, and it still hurts, and that's okay. Roscoe, buddy", he called, "come give mummy a big, big cuddle", he smiled as the dog attended to his request.

"I'm sorry, too", you said as you petted Roscoe, his snores showing you he was enjoying them, "just wanted to be a happy and cheerful partner, and support you", you reiterated.

"From now on, promise you'll tell me anything that bothers you?", he assured as you smiled, kissing his lips as a seal of your promise, "I promise".

"I love you, Y/N, and it's me, you and Roscoe against the world", Lewis said.

"Agains the world and the rest of the paddock?", you joked, "just about, yes".

#lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton fanfic #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

[onlygoldwillsuffice]

Dendroaspis Polylepis

Tom Riddle x Reader

For mature audiences only

This is my first time writing smut in any form, sorry if it's corny or confusing LOL

I tried to make this one longer than the last, I hope you enjoy (but i barely proofread it)

Read the first part here

Content: non-con (sort of), general smut, fem-bodied reader, questionable power dynamics, inappropriate use of parseltongue, snake-related innuendos, manipulation, slight dumbification, orgasm denial, overall dark themes - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Word Count: 5.3k+

Summary: A certain cloaked mamba you know proves to be dangerous when provoked.

Notes (Please read or confusion will follow) - This fanfiction is an AU where Parseltongue has the capabilities of mind-control, similar to Legilimency. The mechanics of this ability will be further elaborated upon in the story. Tom also has his own bedroom since he's the head boy.

Special thanks to everyone who interacted with my last post, you're all so sweet! <33

Taglist: @eyukkie, @ravenclawh0re18, @catherine1x I tried to get a little creative for this one, hopefully it's not too disappointing ( ´ ▽ ` )

The dendroaspis polylepis, most monotonously known as the black mamba, is often associated with danger, fear, and mortality. Its reputation as a deadly predator has contributed to its formidable image, and it is widely regarded as a symbol of danger and intimidation due to its highly venomous bite. 

Its notoriety is defined by its speed, dexterity, and stealth, capable of striking without the slightest warning. The black mamba is considered highly aggressive and will attack others if threatened or cornered.

 The black mamba's appearance is characterized by its sleek scales and dark coloration, ranging from grey, olive, brown, and of course, black. In addition, it has a distinctive sarcophagus-shaped head and a long, thin tongue, which it uses to assess its surroundings and locate prey. 

Its streamlined and elegant form is beautiful and intimidating, eliciting both admiration and fear in those who encounter it. 

_______________________________

More than a week has passed since the Slytherin head boy confronted you.

No matter where you went, a pair of ashen-colored eyes followed. But it wasn’t like before, when it was simply a gaze that held a distant vigil over you. 

Instead, it had taken on a new form—an ominous sort of fervor that seemed to burn within its depths. It was cruel in nature, with a vehemence that appeared to be begging for bloodshed with every glance.

However, you didn’t regret your actions in undermining Tom Riddle, even though it was a risky move. In fact, you enjoyed the slight rush it gave you when you left him as good as speechless under the stars that night.

You sat at your dorm desk, leafing through the last of the week’s homework, relieved to know you would be heading to Hogsmeade for the weekend the next day.

Professor Beery had planned a trip for your herbology class to take a look at some of the rare plants the locals had shipped in, and he figured it would do you and your classmates some good to study their behaviors and practical applications.

Finally, you’ll be free from the prying eyes of You-Know-Who, at least for a couple of days. 

The following morning, you made your way to your friends’ dormitory to leave your pet snake with them since you couldn’t take her along.

You found her egg four years ago, nestled alone in an abandoned den, fighting off a few predators to protect the fragile shell. Ever since she hatched in your bedroom back at your parents’ place, the two of you have been practically inseparable.

After you knocked on the door, it creaked open to reveal your friend Maselle.

“Hey,” you said with a smile, “I just wanted to drop off my snake with you for the weekend.” “Can you look after her while I’m away?” 

“Of course,” she replied, taking the snake’s small enclosure from your hands. “We’ll have a great time, won’t we?” She looked at the snake, who flicked her tongue out in response.

“Thank you so much,” you said, expressing your gratitude. “She’s pretty low maintenance, just make sure she has enough water and keep an eye on her. She likes to explore.” Maselle chuckled, “No problem. Safe travels!”

You waved goodbye and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast, solace building in your chest for the trip ahead. You met up with the rest of your classmates, who were eagerly discussing the plants they hoped to encounter during the excursion.

As you ate, you sensed a glaring presence upon you and instantly knew where it was coming from. You understood it was in your best interest to dismiss it, but the force of it was strong enough to make you reluctantly turn your head and look towards the Slytherin table.

Riddle sat there in his usual pompous posture, surrounded by his cronies. His stony eyes were locked onto yours, but it was nothing you weren’t used to at this point.

You finished your meal and joined your classmates as you all made your way to the Hogwarts Express.

The train ride was filled with laughter and excitement, and you couldn’t help but feel lighter, knowing that you’d be away from Riddle and his aggravating presence for a while. 

Once you arrived in Hogsmeade, your group went to the townlet greenhouse, where the rare plants were being kept. Professor Beery led the way, excitedly explaining the origins and properties of each plant as you and your classmates took notes and asked questions.

The day went by in a blur of fascinating facts and hands-on learning. Nevertheless, it was a welcome respite from the tense atmosphere at Hogwarts, and you wished that you could stay in Hogsmeade just a little longer. 

But eventually, the weekend came to an end, and you and the rest of the class boarded the train to return to the castle.

_______________________________

Once you got back, things were... off.

For the past three weeks, you felt a persistent pounding within your head that would come and go with no particular pattern. And as a result, you felt light-headed on an almost daily basis and often struggled to find any appetite for food.

Even your emotional state was as unpredictable as the weather, constantly shifting and changing. Or, there would be times when you would be in the middle of a conversation or doing a task, and your train of thought would suddenly vanish into thin air.

By Merlin, were you getting sick?

Surely it’s nothing to worry about. You must have caught a bug being around all those plants.

But that wasn’t the only odd thing. Tom was no longer watching you.

In fact, it seemed he paid no mind to you at all. He would only glance your way when he could sense your eyes on him. 

It’s not that you minded. You just weren’t expecting his behavior to take such a 180-degree turn.

Good. 

He should leave you alone, and you should be able to go about your day without feeling under close scrutiny every time he enters the same room as you.

You dismissed the idle thoughts, and the specter of upcoming OWLS and assignments loomed over you, forcing you to focus on your studies first and foremost. 

But, due to your declining health, you had trouble sleeping a lot of nights. And the lack of rest took a toll on you, making it difficult to concentrate in your classes.

Unfortunately, potions, a class that happened to be scheduled as the last one of most days of the week, was particularly arduous to sit through as it became commonplace for you to drift off during lectures.

Professor Slughorn, your potions teacher, noticed your situation and, being the kind-hearted man that he was, offered you a few after-school lessons to help you catch up with your work. Grateful for his concern, you accepted his offer without hesitation.

After a successful lesson, you packed up your belongings, feeling more confident about your understanding of potion-making.

As you were about to leave, Professor Slughorn called out to you. “Ah, before you go,” he said, holding up a textbook, “Tom left this behind. Could you please return it to him?” 

You hesitated, not wanting to be bothered with Tom, especially at this hour. “But Professor, it’s already pretty late. It’s likely that he’s already asleep.” Professor Slughorn chuckled. “I’m sure he won’t mind, and to sweeten the deal, I’ll reward your house with 15 points if you do this small favor for me.” 

You realized you couldn’t debate against him for much longer, and the thought of earning points for your house made you reconsider, so you reluctantly agreed. “Alright, I’ll do it.” 

“Thank you, my dear,” he said warmly, handing you the textbook.

Besides, it can’t be that bad anyway. 

Tom’s the kind of man who never deviates from his bedtime routine, retiring at nine o’clock on the dot, so you’d probably be able to pass the textbook to one of his fangirls the next day, who are always eager to do him a favor.

You took the book and set off for Tom’s chambers, praying fervently that your errand would be a nonexistent or at least quick one.

_______________________________

As you approached the threshold of his bedroom, your steps echoed off the walls, bouncing back at you with an eerie silence. 

You steeled your nerves, inhaling deeply before lightly rapping your knuckles against the door. You knocked as gently as possible, not wanting to risk waking him if he really was asleep. And quite frankly, you didn’t want to deal with whatever lay behind the room before you.

“Enter,” called a baritone voice from the other side.

Your stomach sank—just your damn luck.

You cautiously opened the door to find him standing by a small kitchenette set up in the corner of the room.

Taking a glance around the surrounding area, you notice it’s much larger than you expected. 

Very organized. Very Tom.

Antique yew furniture, hardwood floors, a few paintings of influential (and particularly dark) witches and wizards like Salazar Slytherin, and a large circular Persian rug in the epicenter of the room. 

You notice a warm glow from a masonry fireplace covered with intricately painted tiles against one wall and towering bookcases filled to the brim with novels in languages you couldn’t decipher, accompanied by assorted trinkets spread along another.

The gentle light from a few sparsely placed lamps illuminated only parts of the room here and there, leaving much of it cloaked in mystery.

But your attention is quickly pulled back to Tom, who greets you with a tilt of his head and a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Come in.” His firm tone makes his words sound more like a command than an invitation.

You hesitate before taking a few more steps into the room, but before you know it, you find yourself standing in the center.

“I wasn’t expecting a visitor so late tonight,” he says, a hint of false curiosity in his voice.

“Look, Tom, I’m just here to-,” he cuts you off. 

“Oh, I know what you’re here for. But, unfortunately, I couldn’t retrieve it myself as I was busy with other matters. Care for some tea? I hear it’s good for restless nights like these,” he said, gesturing towards the ornate pot beside him.

“No thanks,” you immediately decline. “Gosh, Y/N. You don’t need to be so suspicious of me all the time,” he softly chuckles.

You can’t help but roll your eyes - after all, this is a man who’s been stalking you for the better part of a year.

An unnerving stillness fills the room as he turns up the heat on the stovetop. He turns around to look at you, his back leaning casually against the counter.

“You know, I really missed you while you were gone,” he trails off and looks away for a moment before finally meeting your gaze again. “How was your trip?”

Letting out an impatient sigh, you feel your feet shift on the ground beneath you, and you begin to tap your foot in irritation, not wanting to stay any longer than necessary. “Is there a point to this conversation, Tom? I need to get back,” you asserted. 

Tom smiles and nods before slowly turning around to finish boiling the water. He grabs a tea bag of what looks to be chamomile and carefully lowers it into the pot.

As you wait for the seconds to tick by, he fills up an awaiting mug with the steaming liquid, taking a leisurely sip before setting it down and turning towards you to speak again.

“I wanted to apologize for the other night,” he begins. “What I said and the way I acted may have been a little bit out of line, and I dread that I’ve given you a bad impression of me. Still, I hope you can understand that I was just trying to do my job as a student. You never know what intentions some people might have, especially within the walls of a school like Hogwarts.”

You felt frustration overtake you as you acknowledged that your attempt to keep the interaction short quickly became an impossibility. “I wasn’t bothered by it,” you respond. “You can consider yourself redeemed if you just take back your textbook-” He interrupts you again. “Let me make it up to you, Y/N.”

He begins to walk towards you, sending a knot of trepidation through your stomach.

“Tom, seriously. I really don’t mind,” you protest. His domineering aura seems to swell with each step he takes, and you become acutely aware of how much bigger he is than you. And it’s not that you’re particularly short by any means; it’s just that he’s freakishly tall.

Time seemed to stand still as you parted your lips again to make your words more transparent, determined to finally leave.

“Did you hear me, Tom? I said I-” Two large hands abruptly snaked around your waist with a tight and unforgiving grip, startling you and snipping off any chance of finishing your sentence. Your heart races as fear and confusion erupt over you at the unexpected intrusion.

He’s definitely crossed the line now.

Your instinctive reaction forces your muscles to tense as a surge of indignation permeates your being. How dare he lay his hands on you like this? You attempt to raise your hands, ready to shove him back, but... that’s strange.

Why can’t you move?

You look up at him with wide eyes, only to see cold and unkind ones staring back down at you. Fear as hot as molten lava pumps swiftly through your body as his disfavored presence engulfs every corner of the room. He towers above you, a daunting force that cannot be ignored.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, his tone dripping with condescension. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

Tom reached into the depths of his robes and pulled out his wand, a thin shaft of aged wood. Then, with a fluid swish, the room went dark, with the only lingering light coming from a handful of candles scattered throughout.

As he focuses his attention back on you, he takes note of the puzzled expression on your face and takes it upon himself to explain what’s happening, “graciously” filling in the missing pieces for you.

He utters a word as ancient as time, a single string of syllables resonating with power and strength. “Parseltongue...” he trails off. He whispers into your ear, and for a second, you could swear you were hearing not just with your ears but also with your mind--as if he were speaking directly to it. His words curled around your head, internally and externally, sending shivers down your spine.

He pulls you closer to him and strokes the curve of your cheekbone with his finger. His breath is warm on your skin, and his voice is low, giving off an intimate whisper that fills you with forbidden vitality.

“And you’re right, Y/N,” he says softly, his pillowy lips barely brushing against your ear. “How could I have been so careless? Letting just anyone see me speak such a socially inappropriate language”, his finger still trailing feathery lines on your pretty face. His lips are so very close. Your heart begins to pound in your chest as the anticipation becomes almost too much for you to bear.

You struggle and write, desperately attempting to break free from his iron grasp, but to no avail. With a quiet hiss, his lips parted to reveal a mamba-like tongue. It curled between your own, completely enveloping you in a rough, disordered kiss.

His tongue is warm and languid, moving languorously around your mouth as if it has all the time in the world. The moment's intensity advances as he wraps you up in darkness, forming an impenetrable prison of human contact.

His soft moans swarm your ears before he finally pulls away from you, leaving a thin, glistening strand of saliva linking your parted mouths - evidence of the lewd kiss that had just taken place. His eyes scan your stupefied face with satisfaction, pleased at his ability to put you in such a state.

“Most people know Parseltongue gives someone the ability to speak to snakes, but very few know about the other power it holds.” 

As he speaks, you feel a chill run down your spine, sensing that there’s more to the story. And you’re right.

“I spend a lot of time in the restricted section of the library,” he says, steering you backward by your hips.

 “Searching for any book that could grant me more power than I already possess, and I happened to stumble upon something interesting about a year ago. Something that very few ever find out about.” His voice descended into reverential silence, as if he were weighing up the situation and deciding how much to reveal.

“The use of Parseltongue on a non-Parseltongue speaker can have manipulating effects only under very specific circumstances.” You feel your ass bump against his desk, and seconds later, he lifts you up, placing you on its hard surface.

“Proficiency and fluency in Parseltongue are paramount for anyone wishing to manipulate another person with their words,” he purred, his voice as smooth as silk. His tongue trailed a languid path along your jawline, leaving you weak at the knees.

“And the non-Parseltongue speaker must have or be in a state of vulnerability that the speaker can exploit.” His words seemed to contain a hidden power, like each syllable would take on a life of its own.

“This could manifest in many different ways -- from being under the influence of a strong potion or spell to enduring a great deal of emotional turmoil.” He waves his hand over your chest, and without even touching you, his intonations seem to make the buttons on your shirt undo themselves as if of their own volition. 

“Perhaps they have endured past trauma, harbored unfulfilled desires, or been crippled by overwhelming fears.” He redoubles his effort as he traces intricate designs over your neck and collarbone, artfully balancing pain and pleasure within you.

“If the speaker is able to tap into the listener’s vulnerabilities and use Parseltongue to amplify those feelings or emotions, well, the listener can be controlled at the deepest levels to do just about anything.” You feel his warm hands slide up your smooth thigh and past your flimsy skirt. “Down to their very thoughts, emotions, as well as…physical being.” 

Calloused fingertips began gliding over the thin fabric covering your clit. Every pass of them sent tingles of pleasure to the sensitive region between your thighs, earning a few yelps out of you--sounds that only spurred the growing hardness in his pants.

“In the most extreme circumstances, with those bold enough to practice dark magic, it can even induce a trance-like or petrifying state of mind where the listener is devoid of all sense of time and space, leaving them totally in submission to the speaker’s demands.” 

Almost like the one you’re in.

His hands squeeze your upper thighs, pushing up your skirt ever so slightly. “Parseltongue works in unique ways, though, and it’s only effective when the target is not in a position to resist.” 

“Unfortunately, however, you didn’t seem to have any of those vulnerabilities. And believe me, I asked around. Your friends, professors - it seemed like no one really knew anything about you.” You felt a pang of disappointment as his body withdrew from yours, and you involuntarily bit your lip at the thought of his touch.

“How could I possibly get to you, I wondered?” 

“So I started by retracing my steps.” He began to disrobe, letting his heavy cloak slide gracefully off his shoulders and discarding it onto a hanger beside the door.

“I looked over the book again to see if there was anything useful to me, and as fate would have it, I overlooked a page. There was one last way to control someone with Parseltongue. A strong connection, a mental link... specifically through snakes.” He carefully pressed the fabric down, ensuring it was hung up neatly and securely, before turning back around.

“I was honestly surprised, wondering what I had done to be so fortunate.” He let out a low chuckle, and the true implications of his words began to dawn on you. Every beat of your heart was like an overturned stone as you realized what he was implying.

Tom’s voice was low and menacing as he recounted the details, savoring his newfound power over you. “Your friend, the one who had your snake while you were gone, she talks too much,” he explained, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “It didn’t take long to learn about your dear companion.” He started walking towards you again as he spoke.

“I gave her some generous flattery, and when I requested to spend some time with your little pet, it was quickly met.” His muscular arms moved carefully to take up a post on both sides of you, effectively trapping you between them. 

“At that point, all there was left for me to do was plant some seeds into your precious snake, slowly feeding it sounds that it would imitate and eventually take form in your subconscious.”

Your visit to Hogsmeade was meant to be a refreshing and carefree trip, but instead, Tom turned into the site of a wicked plan, using your unsuspecting pet as the tool for his manipulation. 

You stared at him in disbelief. Was this even possible? Could your snake really be influencing you without your knowledge?

Tom seemed to read your thoughts. “Yes, the mind is an incredibly powerful tool. And when combined with the right kind of magic, anything is possible.” He paused for effect before finishing his sentence with a slight glimmer in his eyes.

You felt a chill run down your spine as the full extent of what he had done set in. You could almost hear the sibilant hiss of your snake as Tom spoke, and the image made you shudder involuntarily. The thought of being under the influence of something you had no control over, something that was affecting your health, thoughts, and emotions, was a terrifying prospect.

“Don’t look at me like that, Y/N.” He pleads softly, his strong arms scooping you up from your plush thighs off the desk and cradling you close as he carries you across the room to his bed. 

Even under the dim candlelight, his eyes were burning with intensity as if begging for something more.

As he continued speaking, you couldn't help but notice how his voice seemed to wrap around your mind, manipulating your senses just like he had done with your snake. It was almost hypnotic in its power, as if he could will you to listen and obey his every word.

“I have always been fascinated by the power of Parseltongue. It’s a language only a select few can understand, and even fewer can speak. But with great power comes great responsibility. And I, my dear, am not one to shy away from responsibility.”

The fear that had permeated your bones dissipated, replaced by a different, unfamiliar feeling. His words seemed to drift away, and the deep-rooted desire between your legs suddenly became more pronounced. You felt your breath come in short, shallow pants, wanting something without knowing what it was. You wanted his touch, and you wanted it bad. It was an urge that seemed to be calling out from within you.

Tom laid you tenderly on the edge of his neatly-made bed, his gaze transfixed entirely on you. 

“Oh sweetheart, what I wouldn’t give for you if only you knew how to make the right choices,” he whispered. 

He slowly ran the calloused pad of this thumb along your now tender lips. The faintest of sighs escaped him as he observed them pucker and contort under his caress. 

“But I suppose having you like this will do for now,” he purred before inclining his head and pressing his soft lips against yours.

His hand found its way to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he pulled away with a smile. “Let’s make it last. Now keep still.” 

You did as you were told, closing your eyes and relaxing into the pillow. He flicked his tongue along the skin at the base of your throat, blazing a slow path down to your collarbone. He lingered there momentarily before continuing to your breasts, his teeth softly grazing around each nipple before delivering gentle bites that sent borderline electric shocks through you.

Tom seemed to sense your arousal, and he used his other hand to pull up your skirt, leaving it bunched up around your waist. 

Trailing his fingertips down, he slipped off your panties, exposing the swollen nub that was far too neglected for both yours and his liking. Not to worry, though. He was determined to set it right.

He dipped his head down, showering you with the warmth of his breath as he bullied the sensitive skin beneath your belly button. 

You could feel his soft cheeks on your inner thigh as he moved lower, and you suddenly felt the tip of his tongue licking at your slit. He continued to taste and tease you, occasionally stopping to place an open-mouthed kiss on your clit, eliciting a mewl from you.

Tom hummed in approval, kissing it once more before trailing his tongue along your labia, gently lapping at the juices already starting to flow from your vagina. 

You couldn't help but squirm as he slowly made his way up to the top of your cunt.

You arched your back, trying to get closer to him as he nibbled at your flesh, mapping out the contours of your folds with his tongue. His hands moved from your waist, skimming up the sides of your ribs and onto your breasts, gently squeezing and massaging them as he continued to feast on the spot beneath your abdomen. 

You were lost in a sea of your thoughts, desires, and emotions, unsure if they were truly your own or just the seeds Tom had sowed. It didn’t matter, though, for he had become an escape for you--a way for you to forget about everything else. He was giving your body the attention it so desperately craved, and in return, you granted him complete control over you.

Tom continued his exploration, slipping two fingers inside your slippery cunt as he used his other hand to massage your clitoris in circles. Every touch felt more profound than the last, making it difficult for you not to whimper from the intense pleasure inundating you.

You felt your mind go witless, your thoughts growing hazy with every movement he made. His long fingers descended inside you slowly and deliberately, coaxing you closer to the edge. But before you could reach the peak of ecstasy, he withdrew them and moved back from you to unfasten his dark slacks. You heard the faint sound of a zipper being pulled down as he spoke in a gravelly whisper.

“Go on,” Tom said softly, his voice fluttering slightly. “Touch yourself for me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. All you wanted was to feel his thick cock pushing its way past your entrance—an intrusion that would bring about nothing but pleasure. Your hands moved up to your breasts, shamelessly pinching and rubbing the nipples between your fingertips as you thought about Tom’s lush cock in you.

He leaned forward, and you gasped as you felt something hard and thick, probing its way inside your canal, igniting an overwhelming sensation within. Your walls were already slick with his saliva, enabling him to slide in effortlessly. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist as tightly as possible, eagerly pulling him closer as pure bliss consumed your entire being.

“Tom!” you cried out, You could feel him growing harder against you, his pace picking up as your moans got louder.

Tom’s hand reached down again and captured your clit between his fingers, chafing it roughly as his cock mercilessly pounded into you.

As you approached the glorious return of the orgasm that previously left you, your entire body tensed in anticipation, wanting to make it last as long as possible. But unfortunately, Tom had other plans. 

His action was met with a plaintive whine when he abruptly pulled away from you, lifting you off the bed and settling you on his lap, eyes level with his. His hands were almost painfully tight around your waist, keeping you securely in place.

He guided you down onto his still-throbbing member, watching intently as you pathetically began bouncing on it. His damp ebony locks hung like a curtain around his face, and his half-lidded eyes were full of longing, looking at the flickers of pleasure that crossed your face as every inch of him filled you up.

You could feel his heart drumming, and every rigid breath he took seemed to reverberate within the space between you.

“Do you want to come?” he questioned, his voice tinged with a hint of mockery. You nodded your head so fast he was surprised it didn’t spin around and fall off your neck. 

“Use your words and say it then,” he continued, clearly enjoying the idea of teasing you. “I can’t understand your mindless babbling.”

He was utterly clueless to the degree of torture he was putting you through, but you gathered what remained of the sense you had left and stammered out a barely coherent string of words.

“Pl-please, Tom,” your voice was shaking and frail as you begged pitifully. “L-let me come around your c-cock.” The desperation in your words and tone was evident as tears started welling up in your eyes.

Your whole existence was devoted to craving and conviction; only his touch could break the deep enchantment he had cast over you.

“There we go,’ he breathed gently into your ear before kissing away the last of your tears. “Now, was that so hard, princess?”

You felt serenity sweep over you as his lips left your skin, and in reply to the question, you shook your head from side to side.

"Ah, ah. Use your words," Tom reminded firmly as if he were scolding a misbehaving student.

You swallowed hard and forced the words out of your mouth. “No, it wasn’t h-hard at all," you voiced meekly. It was a lie, but you were relieved that you had been able to utter something.

Tom's lips stretched into a wide grin at your obedience, pleased that he had gotten the audible response he wanted.

He accelerated his rhythm, bucking his hips faster and faster into you. You could hardly keep up with him as you finally reached the point of no return, and contentment flared through every nerve in your body, causing you to shudder in ecstasy. You felt yourself squeeze around him tightly, internally gripping his throbbing cock as it pulsed within you.

His large frame trembled uncontrollably as he painted your insides with his hot seed, leaving a warm, sticky trail trickling down your thighs, mixing with your essence.

“Oh my god,” he breathed out. He placed his head on your chest, his body rising and falling rapidly as he recovered from his own orgasm. 

He delicately entwined his fingers with yours, slowly tugging them towards him, and lifted his head to look at your satisfied expression before planting a gentle kiss on your lips, sealing this moment forever in both of your memories.

Never before had he felt such euphoria. It emanated from both of you in such a beautiful display that no one else could ever replicate or replace.

And sure, he may not have had you kneeling before him and pleading for absolution like he initially envisioned, but having you so entirely at his mercy like this was a more satisfying form of retribution than he could ever have dreamed of. As you relinquished the last of your power to him, the look in your eyes spoke volumes—a much sweeter vindication than words could ever convey. 

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #lord voldemort #x reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter smut #voldemort #voldemort x reader

[canirove]

In The Name of Love | Chapter 6

Author's note: Since next Monday is Christmas day, I will be posting the chapter that should be up that day on Wednesday, which means that next week you will have new chapters on Wednesday and Thursday 😊 Also sorry about this chapter being a bit meh and on the short side, but I think I am making up for it on the next one 😁 Also, to those of you who are just reading this and don't follow me, happy holidays and merry christmas to those of you who celebrate! 💜

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

Good luck tonight! Hopefully it won't rain, because those clouds look so bad… (📸) Also look at the sea. Back home it doesn't get like this  (📸) The food here is just 🤤 (📸) You have fans who aren't teenagers 😱 (📸) I wonder if they'll think I'm one too (📸)

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"And?"

"Nothing yet" I sigh. "This was a good idea, right?"

"It was" Emma says, giving my hand an encouraging squeeze. "Traveling to the other side of the country to watch him play is so romantic!"

"I don't care if it is romantic or not. I just want to explain everything to him and for things to go back to the way they were."

"Who would have thought you would end up missing a teenager's dick, uh?" she laughs.

"I should have brought Silvia with me" I reply, rolling my eyes.

"But sadly, she's too busy with Pau finally being back, so you'll have to deal with me" she smiles.

It's been a month since that stupid engagement party, since Pedri and I had that argument, since I last saw him in person. And I've felt like shit every single day.

I should have been honest with him. I should have opened myself to him, share all my fears. But I couldn't. I was too much of a coward, and because of it, I may have lost the person who managed to finally make me close a chapter of my life. The person that gave me what I needed to finally let go. 

But I'm ready now. I'm ready to tell him everything. And that's why Emma and I are here, though her first plan was a bit stalkery.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I just sent him a good luck message before the game and he has left me as read. Again" I sigh. 

"At least you know he hasn't blocked you."

"Yeah, I guess. But I can't keep living this, I have to do something."

"Why don't you just show up at his house and don't leave until he listens to you?"

"I can't do that, Emma. He'll end up calling the police."

"Then why don't you go watch him play at the Camp Nou? Maybe his friends can help you corner him somewhere so you can talk."

"That isn't such a bad idea, you know… Though they are going on international break after tonight's game." 

"Then let's go watch him play with Spain! You could even wear his shirt, I'm sure he would like that. You aren't allergic to that one, are you?"

"I'm not, no" I laugh. "But I don't know where they are playing and when. And there may not be tickets left."

"Then let's find out" she says, taking out her phone and starting to type.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

A couple of hours after that conversation, and mostly thanks to Ferran, we had it all ready. We would be spending the weekend in La Coruña, a city in the West of Spain where the national team is playing, and where, hopefully, I will find a way to convince Pedri to let me explain myself. 

"Is it him?" Emma asks when my phone buzzes.

"Oh my God" I gasp. "It's him, he has replied!" I say, my hand shaking.

"What does he say?"

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Val, what is all that? 

Are those photos real?

Yep

Are you here? 

In La Coruña? 

And wearing my shirt? 😳

I am

Wait a second

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Emma, he's facetiming me."

"Then pick up!"

"How do I look?"

"For the love of God, Valeria. Who cares? Pick up!"

"Ok" I say, taking a deep breath. "Hello" I smile.

"Show me around."

"What?"

"Show me around, Valeria."

"Don't need to be so rude, Pedro" I say, moving so he can see where I am. Emma and I had sat down on a bench not too far away from the stadium to kill time until we can go inside.

"You are here. You… Why?"

"Well, Emma and I had a free weekend and wanted to disconnect from the kids, we saw an ad about the game, we had never been to La Coruña, and we said, why not?" I shrug.

"Let's go disconnect from the kids by watching other kids play" Pedri chuckles.

"Asensio isn't a kid."

"Then why are you wearing my shirt?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.

"It was the only one left in the shop" I shrug again.

"Sure" he laughs.

"It was yours or Morata's, and you know how I feel about him."

"I do, yes" he laughs again. God, I had missed hearing him laugh. "Anyway, I gotta go, we are leaving the hotel now."

"Ok."

"Thank you for coming to the game."

"Of course" I smile. But he doesn't. He's gone serious again.

"Bye, Valeria."

"Bye" I say before he hangs up.

"That went well, didn't it?" Emma says.

"Did it?" I sigh.

"It did! You had a little moment there, so there still is hope."

"I guess, but he kept calling me Valeria and… Wait" I say when my phone buzzes again.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Don't forget to send me your good luck text. 

It is the last thing I always read before warm up

I won't. I promise 😊

❤️

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"See? There still is hope!" Emma says, grabbing my arm and squeezing it. She's actually hurting me, but I don't care.

Because there still is hope.

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri fanfic #pedri gonzalez fanfic #pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

[welcometololaland]

Hi, how many WIPs are you currently working on? Would you like to tell more about it?

hello anon 💜 first up, i noticed you sent this to a few people and i just want to say thank you on behalf of everyone for getting behind writers and asking about their projects! that's really sweet of you and i know most people love talking about their writing so i'm sure you made a lot of people happy with this initiative :) using the anon function for good!

storytime but i have really been struggling with writing the last couple of months, mostly because i've been crazy busy with work (actually performing weirdly well but fuck capitalism) and social stuff. it's finally starting to quiet down - i think next weekend is the first weekend with free time since christmas, so i'm super keen to just...chill. maybe then i can actually work on writing!

as for wips...i have many but only a couple i'm actively working on right now.

Eurotrip (aka. When in Rome) - RWRB. i really wanted to finish this before may, but it's going super slow. I'm currently writing chapter 8 or 17, and my aim is to write at least 10 (but probably more like 14) chapters prior to posting. i'm really proud of myself for not giving up on this one because it's a mammoth and i started writing it in...2021 :/ but there's still a long way to go. i have art by @stardisnight to go with it, so that gives me precious motivation. also, the timeline of this fic vaguely resembles a lone star season right now so i need to work that out before i post.

Call Me (By My Name) - Lone Star. a co-write with @rmd-writes, it's just chugging along but as per usual we put no expectations on ourselves so there is no real timeline for completion.

10 Things I Hate About You AU (aka. Not Now But Soon) - Lone Star. i keep thinking about this and not writing it, but every now and then i get a strike of inspiration and go back and add to the doc. i actually DNF'd this ages ago, but i keep going back to it, so hopefully it gets done before the new season airs.

The Ring In 2.0 - Lone Star. calling this a wip because technically i have about 3k in the doc, but i swore myself off starting this before eurotrip is finished. i'm chomping at the bit though, the original ring-in was one of the easiest fics for me to write because it's so silly and fun and the chat with @dustratcentral is everything to me.

A Random Idea I Got From A Writing Prompt and I Pitched to @celeritas2997 - Lone Star. okay. hear me out. it could be short. 10k MAX. i have time for this. i promise. it's an austin au with a super stupid premise and i just. think. it. would. be. funny!!!! let me live. take me back to the ring in days where i didn't have any expectations of myself.

(other projects currently on the back-burner until inspiration rears her beautiful head again - product placement (tiktok 2.0 - LS), crossover, reddit au (LS), cause of action (TGM)).

thank you for asking 💜 and yeah, i take requests on any of these so tell me what you think everyone and don't hold back lmao

#lolaland answers #wip list #911 lone star #tarlos #rwrb #red white and royal blue #tgm #top gun maverick #hangster #firstprince

[theladyofdeath]

Lady Death's Lover {III}

Lady Death's Lover Masterlist & Summary

19th Century Period AU Nesta x Cassian Secret Affair / Enemies to Lovers / Forbidden Romance Fanfiction / Characters from Sarah J Maas / ACOTAR Based on a prompt sent in by anonymous

A/N: Apologies for the delay! This weekend was a long one. Chapter 4 will still be posted on Tuesday as planned!

TW: marital abuse, sexual content, language, depression, alcohol abuse, non-descriptive sexual abuse

This story is for readers 18+. Mature readers only. Content should not be read by anyone under 18.

Nesta,

Elain has been bothering me to write to you so I am only doing this to make her happy. I am still seeing Isaac Hale and I do not feel bad about it. I do not care to marry a gentleman. None of the gentlemen here are worth a lick. Besides, with Tomas’ care, I do not need to marry rich. I enjoy Isaac’s company — at least for now. Even if he is not husband material, we have a good time. 

Although I am angry with you, I do hope you are doing well. Father seems happier lately and we have started to insert ourselves back into society. We attended a luncheon a few days ago and both father and Elain seemed right at home among the company. I wore a new dress. It was nice.

Foreign, considering our hardships, but nice.

When you reply, please do not mention Isaac. You’ll be wasting your breath.

Your Sister,

Feyre

Cassian

Azriel and Rhysand are laughing about something but I can’t seem to think straight enough to make sense of why. We’re gambling and I’m losing, and once I started losing I started drinking which was quite some time ago. Thankfully, we’re not playing for money but stripping down with every lost hand. As of now, I’m sitting in my trousers with my chest bare and toes freed while the other two bastards at this table have donned my clothing on top of their own. 

Balthazar, my butler, enters the room to bring a full bottle of whiskey. I hadn’t even noticed that we emptied the last one. “Thank you,” I say. At least, I think I do. My words seem far away as they come out of my mouth. 

“Play, damn it!”

I blink, not realizing it was my turn. I lay down my cards. The two bastards next to me at the round table howl.

I’ve lost my pants. 

“You know,” I say, unbuttoning my trousers and kicking them off, “when one of you wins, you can choose each other from time to time instead of ganging up on me. It’s too cold to be sitting here with my cock hanging out.”

“Then start a fire,” Azriel says, dealing once again as I sit back in my chair in my underpants. 

Thankfully I win the next round and my pants along with it, but it doesn’t last long before they’re gone again.

When the door opens again, Balthazar enters with a silver tray and a sealed envelope on top of it. I can hardly keep myself from swaying as I reach for it and thank him before breaking the seal. At first, the words are blurry, but after a few minutes of deep focus, I toss it aside. “Fuck.”

“What?” Azriel asks, as Rhysand struggles in his own drunken state to undo the buttons of his shirt. 

“Mandray,” I say, pouring myself another drink and refilling theirs. “Invited me to dinner tomorrow. Talk business.” 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Azriel asks, sighing as he starts to help a grappling Rhysand. 

I nod, and I don’t know how long I nod for but I feel like it’s a damn long time. “It’s at his house. What if his wife is there?”

“I expect her to be,” Rhys says, flailing his arms until they’re free from his sleeves. “It’s her house. She eats dinner.” 

“Hmmm.” I lean back in my chair. “What do you think she’ll be wearing?”

“More than you currently are, hopefully,” Azriel says, putting Rhysand’s shirt over both mine and his across his shoulders. “Why does it matter? Afraid you’ll hit on her again in front of her own husband?” 

“I’m not that stupid,” I say, then add, “when I’m sober.” 

“You’ll be fine,” Rhys says, and nods at the cards face down in front of me. “Now, play.” 

“Should I bring something?” I ask, surely overthinking it, but my mind is so fuzzy that I’m honestly surprised I’m having any thoughts at all. I take another drink. “Flowers? Wine?”

“I don’t think Mandray cares for flowers or wine,” Rhys says. “Try brandy.” 

“Not for him,” I say, stumbling, which is strange considering I’m sitting. No, wait, I’m standing. Why am I standing? I sit back down. “For his wife. You should always bring a gift to the woman of the house as a thank you.”

“Sounds very gentlemanly,” Azriel agrees, “but could also be seen as you hitting on his wife.”

“I’m not hitting on his fucking wife!” I say, accidentally knocking over my glass as my arms have a mind of their own for a moment. “I mean, I don’t think I am. Fuck, she is gorgeous. Isn’t she gorgeous?” 

They both stare at me, dumbfounded. 

“Just saying,” I mumble, picking up my glass only to find it empty. Oh yeah. I spilled. “Just because I can’t touch doesn’t mean I can’t admire.” 

“Your admiration is going to get you into trouble,” Rhysand says, then repeats, “now play, damn it.” 

I pick up my cards that are coated in spilled whiskey and play my shitty hand. Azriel wins but allows me to keep my underpants on. It seems we’re picking on Rhys now. 

I save my decision of flowers or wine for tomorrow, when hopefully my head is clear enough to make the proper decision. Hopefully I’m not too sick from the alcohol by the time dinner rolls around. Judging by the clouding of my vision, I assume a headache is in store for me tomorrow morning. 

My thoughts drift to Lady Mandray. Since seeing her at Rhys’ last week, I haven’t been able to erase the image of her from my mind. She was exquisite in that navy blue dress, her hair braided, her lips full and the swells of her breasts on display. She was a work of art. 

And she’s married to the prick that is Tomas Mandray.

I know I shouldn’t complain, shouldn’t judge. I know that getting into business with him will take away my monthly financial worries, but there was something in his eye that didn’t sit well with me when we met. 

He was too confident, and that’s coming from me, who is typically considered too confident. He’s the type of man that thinks he owns everything and everyone within his reach. 

Including his wife.

I know the type well. My father was one of them. 

“Why do you suddenly look like you’re having an overly intense conversation with yourself?” Rhys asks, refilling my glass for me. 

I shrug and laugh it off, even as my thoughts drift from Mandray to my father. “Too much to drink. Deal me in.”

We play until sunrise and I fall asleep too drunk to coherently think about a damn thing. 

Which is exactly what I need. 

……….

Nesta

I’ve had too much wine. 

I don’t even remember finishing the bottle which is probably a sign for concern but I can’t bring myself to care. I feel light, and it feels good to feel light. The heaviness that weighs on me every day has evaporated and I feel absolutely nothing, but in the best way possible. 

My maid has come in twice but I’ve asked her to leave me alone for the night. I feel bad when I’m a bitch to Alis but she always takes it in stride, even if I’m sure she’s cursing me internally every time she walks away from me.

I don’t blame her. 

I curse myself, too. 

Unable to keep reading, thanks to the heaviness of my eyes, I try to sleep. After blowing out the candle at my bedside, I close my eyes and settle back against my pillows. 

Suddenly I’m somewhere else. I’m not in this house, nor am I in my father’s house, but in a different house entirely, one I’ve never been in. 

One that’s entirely my own. 

It sits on the top of a mountain, overlooking the entirety of Velaris. The starlight is brighter from where I stand on the balcony in my mind, beckoning me. For once, I feel safe, although I’m alone. There is no sense of uncertainty or discomfort. Instead, I know it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be, like the walls and all within them were crafted for me. 

My name is called and the voice is familiar. My skin doesn’t crawl like it does when Tomas calls my name. Instead, I swear my heart skips a beat.

Before I can turn to face him, he’s behind me, pulling me back into his chest. I close my eyes and breathe him in as his strong, broad arms come around me and hold me tight. 

It’s a sweet gesture, one I’ve never known in reality, but in my dream, this alternate reality, it’s what he does every night.

Every morning.

Every chance he gets. 

I feel his mouth on my cheek and I let my head fall to the side, giving him better access. Those luscious lips of his trail down my cheek, down the column of my neck, down to my collarbone. I close my eyes, wishing his hands would wander, wishing he’d fall on his knees and ravish me. 

Just as those calloused hands sweep up my sides and cup my breasts, my name is called.

It doesn’t come from him, though. 

It’s back in the nightmare that is my reality and I refuse to open my eyes. I beg the illusion my mind has concocted to stay with me a little bit longer but it dissipates.

“Nesta.” 

My mattress dips and my eyes fly open. The alcohol already consumed still grounds me, but a hint of fear, of annoyance, of dread creeps into the barrier that the alcohol has created. 

Tomas is here, crawling onto my bed, still dressed but his cock is out and hard. I try my best not to cringe, try my best not to recoil, and for a moment I think I’m putting on a hell of a performance but alcohol has always made me tell the truth. 

Even when words are absent. 

He’s hovering above me and I can catch his expression from the dying fire in the fireplace. At first, he’s smiling, and even though his smile looks unpleasant, it’s more unpleasant when his smile dies and he’s watching me with disdain.

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” I say, with no hesitation.

His jaw ticks. “I smell the wine on your breath. Don’t you fucking lie to me, wife.”

Wife. 

Even the alcohol can’t take away what the one word does to my spirit. 

“Why does it matter?” I ask, leveling my gaze with his. “I am a grown woman. If I want to overindulge, I may.”

“You are a lady,” he hisses, his voice low, quiet. “My wife. You cannot do anything without my approval, and I do not approve of my wife drinking herself into oblivion like a fucking whore.”

I close my eyes, trying to find my way back to the happy place I had mustered up just moments ago.

“Open your eyes.”

I don’t.

“Open your eyes!”

I gasp, the hand around my neck rough, making me gasp for air. I open my eyes and the hand is gone, now resting next to my face as Tomas knocks my knees, spreading my legs.

The alcohol is doing nothing at this point. One second, I’m feeling too much, and the next, I am numb. 

I let him do to me what he wishes. There’s no point in fighting back, it’ll only cause the anger that he’s inflicting on me now to amplify. I’d rather him fuck me while I lay here, dead, than to lay a hand on me, than to leave a bruise. 

I look beyond my husband and find that burnt spot on the ceiling. I stare so long that my vision blurs and I let my mind drift back to that place, that house atop the mountain. I think of the starlight and the man whose arms held me tight. I let that image, that dream comfort me until Tomas is satisfied and I attempt to piece myself back together. 

#nessian #nesta #cassian #period au #19th century au #fanfic #fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #sjm

[cometcon]

I uh... I did it again. XD My brain has been going brrrr over this fucking GORGEOUS artwork by @zunkome2 on Xitter (click the view on Twitter button to see their art) and it inspired me to write fanfic of it. I love this art so fucking much!!!! I hope I can keep practicing and be as good as them one day. :D

So yeah, I could not stop thinking about this and I love that Blitz is canonically such a horse-girl, and I can totally see Striker realising and using that to his advantage in trying to draw Blitz in and hopefully get him on his side.

Anyway, my brain decided it was time to take like 5 hours of my day on and off making me try to write this to the best of my current ability. Enjoy. XD

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

Blitz was in Heaven.

An ironic descriptor, considering their actual location, but picking a better one would have been impossible right then; especially with a hellhorse nuzzling his chest ever so gently in search of another rawhide strip. Her mouth may have appeared vicious - and technically yes, that Lovecraftian maw was capable of crushing flesh and bone to mush in a single bite - but the non-business parts were also far softer to the touch than anyone less familiar with the creatures might expect.

"Sorry. I'm all out," he murmured regretfully, giving the beautiful beast a scratch on her forehead as she shoved her muzzle into his other hand. He had to take a small step backward however when she suddenly whipped her head up and to the side with a greeting whinny. Strange. What was that abou-

"Lot of others would've lost a limb for that." The unexpected voice made Blitz tense, tail shooting straight out behind him in surprise before curling tightly, an embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks. He peered around the hellhorse's neck, praying his mortification wouldn't be obvious to the cowboy now leaning against his mount's side. How the fuck had he arrived without him noticing? Striker plucked the wheat stalk from between his teeth and smirked. "She likes you."

Blitz coughed awkwardly and began backing away, mind and mouth both rapidly trying and failing to come up with a believable excuse for his actions. "I was just- uh… I was looking for… We had them at the circus, see, and I thought maybe- Strips are really good for their teeth, you kn- I mean of course you'd know that! I just-" Striker's eyebrows had been climbing steadily higher beneath the brim of his hat the longer Blitz waffled on, and in desperation he found himself resorting to a ridiculous escape route he hadn't used since he was nine years old. "Ah, I think I hear Luna calling me! Coming Loonie!" 

He skittered across the corral and clambered over the fence, cheeks burning hot as he cursed himself silently. Why had he turned into such a blathering idiot in front of the one person he'd actually hoped to impress this weekend? Blitz knew a ruthless killer when he met them and Striker was clearly I.M.P material. After a pathetic show like that though, there was no way he would want to-

The ground under his boots had begun to vibrate while he fumed, faintly at first, then increasing to a thundering roll. He instinctively darted to the side and kept walking, expecting whoever it was to just barrel past him at the reckless speed they seemed to be going. But his path was abruptly cut off by a fiery grey mass, Striker expertly bringing his mount from full canter to a standstill in a cloud of dust. He swung her around to stand side-on so he could look down at the choking imp, that shit-eating grin Blitz was quickly becoming familiar with exposing a gleaming gold fang to the sunlight.

"Pretty sure your hound went bean-pickin' with the rest an hour ago," Striker commented, leaning forward to rest an arm on the pommel, free hand tapping his thigh absentmindedly, "Since you got so much free time to burn, how 'bout you come help me check the fences? Got a few posts loose on the South end thanks to that pesky varg pack last night." The hellhorse shuffled under him, pawing at the dirt and snapping her jaws a little at the mention of vargs. "Bombproof wouldn't mind catching a few either, I bet. Maybe you'll get to see her on the hunt."

"Oh, uh…" Perhaps he hadn't completely blown his chances after all? Striker certainly wasn't behaving like he thought Blitz a dithering moron, literally chasing him down to offer another opportunity to spend more time together and bond with Bombproof. What an incredible name for a hellhorse… No, focus! He could salvage this. He just had to pull himself together and show what a great prospect his group would be compared to farm work in the boonies. Preferably without turning into a rambling mess this time. He forced a nonchalant shrug. "Sure, why not?"

Striker slipped his boot free of the stirrup, hand extending in clear invitation. Blitz's brain stuttered, immediately dropping every part of his own peptalk as it dawned on him what the other had actually meant.

"What, you plannin' on walkin' there? It's miles of Wrath terrain. C'mon Blitz, I don't bite," Striker drawled, head tilting as his eyes took on a knowing glint, "Unless you ask nicely."

Well that decided it. Blitz was reaching for the proffered hand before he could second-guess himself, so caught up in his whirling thoughts Striker had to correct which foot the distracted imp tried mounting with. Blitz didn't have long to stew in his humiliation at least, preoccupied by the ease of how he was hauled into the saddle, hands directed to grip the pommel while the taller demon reached around him to grasp the reins. Striker nudged his leg out of the way, retaking the stirrup and leaving Blitz to squeeze Bombproof's sides tightly with his thighs as she responded to her rider. A moment later they were galloping down the driveway, wind whipping past their faces and her powerful form surging below them.

Blitz was wrong. His time in the corral had been a beautiful experience, but still only comparable to Earth at best. 

Now he was in Heaven. 

And he never wanted to fall.

#helluva boss #striker helluva boss #helluva boss blitz #blitzø #striker x blitz helluva boss #striker x blitz #blitz x striker #striker x blitzo #blitzo x striker #blitzstrike #fanfic #my writing #i haven't written blitz before so sorry if i haven't quite grasped his voice and speech patterns yet #i'll work on it

[gurugirl]

A Balancing Act Sneak Peek

A/N: I'll be posting Part 1 of this 4 part mini series next week (not sure what day yet but I'll be announcing it). This is a 1.5k word sneaky so enjoy! xoxo

Series requested by @cinnamonone

It had been a while since she’d been interested in anyone. And she didn’t know what Harry wanted but the night before she was picking up certain vibes. She could be wrong. Perhaps she’d misread the whole situation. But she thought it could be fun to get out a little. Try and move on from the trauma of her last relationship. She tried not to think of it when she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Moving on had been something she’d been attempting to do for a while. A fun night with a handsome pop star could help a little. If that’s where things led. Hopefully.

At the bar, she ordered soda water to start. She didn’t want to get sloppy, just in case it turned into something more than just a friendly chat. It was around the time Harry said he’d meet her. She’d give him a little leeway to be late since he had just gotten finished putting on a concert for thousands of adoring fans.

But when another thirty minutes had passed she checked her phone to find that there was nothing from him and no sign of his cute dimples in the bar anywhere either.

She waved at the bartender, “I’ll have a glass of house chardonnay please.”

She figured she might as well have one more glass of wine for the evening before calling it a night.

Looking at Instagram while she waited for her glass of wine she realized she had a dm. It was from Dante. An artist she hit it off with at her last art showing. They’d been messaging back and forth a bit but nothing had come of it. He lived a few hours away from her so getting together again hadn’t really been brought up. Except now.

Hey!  I’ll be heading your way for an art exhibit soon. Would love to catch up in person if you’re free. Would you be interested in seeing me again? I’ll let you know when I’ll be in town when I find out more.

Smiling she began to type her response when the bartender placed her glass of wine down along with an envelope with her name written on the front.

She looked up at the young man in question

“Concierge handed this to me right after you ordered.”

“But how did you know this was for me?” She lifted the envelope up and flipped it over to open it up.

“Because I have your credit card with your name on it when you started your tab. Plus they described you. It’s from a very special guest I’m told.”

A very special guest.

She pulled her lips into her mouth to hide the grin that was about to take over as she looked around the bar, still, with no sign of Harry.

Pulling out the contents of the envelope she took a sip of her wine.

Sorry, I ran late. Take a drink in my room with me? p1900 - H

Blinking her eyes she felt her pulse pick up as she folded the note and tucked it into her purse. She gulped down another bit of chardonnay and grinned to herself, already having completely forgotten about Dante.

So she had read this right. The nerves in her belly bubbled up as she waved at the bartender, Check please!”

After making a pitstop at her room to “freshen” up she realized that in the elevator the buttons for the floors stopped off at 8. After that was P.

Penthouse.

Hitting the P, she leaned her back into the wall as the elevator took her to the top floor.

The moment she stepped out of the elevator she was greeted by a man, “Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Oh!” She suddenly remembered who she was dealing with. Harry Styles, a world-famous, A-list pop star. Of course, he’d have security. “Yes, I uh… Harry invited me up-“ She reached into her purse and pulled out the note, “Here.”

The man unfolded the note and then looked at her with a smile, “Y/n?”

So he’d told them her name…

She nodded as he handed the note back to her, “Follow me.”

She figured this was something Harry had done before; had people brought to his room. The occasional one-night stand. Some fun for the weekend.

The man knocked at the door and only a handful of seconds passed before Harry was standing in the doorway, wearing the same comfortable after-concert outfit he’d been wearing when she left the venue earlier.

He smiled at her, “Come in,” and then looked at the man, “Thanks, Shamus.”

The suite was huge. That was no surprise. She’d seen a few nice suites in her days. Being an artist wasn’t always so lucrative but she was often invited to the good after parties. She had a lot of artsy fartsy friends, some very well-off.

“I’m really sorry about being so late. I just got caught up and then before I realized the time it was too late. I’m glad you were still at the bar.”

“Yeah,” she said as she walked around toward the sitting area with the large woven rug and plush couches, “about that… what if I wasn’t in the bar? I was about to go back to my room.”

“Well, then I guess we would have missed one another. That would have been a shame.”

“But you have my number. You could have reached out.”

Harry scratched the back of his neck as she sat down. She was acting far more confident than she really was. But this was part of what she did. She was constantly put into situations where she needed to be confident and sell herself. Her art was an extension of herself. So when she needed to make some sales at shows and galleries she learned just how to do that. Her art sold itself for the most part. But there were enough people who wanted her story. Sometimes, she was what sold her piece. She’d do whatever it took to not be a starving artist anymore.

“I know I could have. But… I hope you don’t take offense. I have a rule not to give out my number so easily. Not that I think you’d use it to do anything but I’ve just had some really bad experiences. People I’ve trusted have betrayed me and changing my number is something I have nightmares about,” he laughed as sat down next to her on the couch.

She laughed with him. She actually could sort of understand it. Being a woman was like that in a way. Giving out her number to someone could be risky. It was a gamble to have her information out there with someone she didn’t know well.

“I’m not offended. But I really thought you’d changed your mind. Though, in all honesty,” she stretched her arms overhead and leaned back into the very shockingly comfortable couch, “I was sort of looking forward to my bed. I’m exhausted.”

Harry leaned back and draped his leg over his knee, “I know what you mean. If I were you I’d much prefer a comfy bed than to spend any time with me either,” he laughed and then put his arm along the back of the couch, “but really… if you’re tired, don’t feel pressure to stay. I am glad you’re here, though.”

There it was. He gave her the choice. So he could have the green light. The thumbs up. He was clever. Telling her she didn’t have to stay but also letting her know he wanted her there. The ball was in her court.

“I’m curious as to why you think I’m interesting enough to invite back to your room for a drink, of which I’ve not yet been offered,” she teased with a chuckle. She didn’t want to seem like some pushover but at the same time, she felt a little flirty. She’d had such a good night at the gallery and she hadn’t been alone with a man nearly as attractive as Harry in… well, she’d never been alone with a man as attractive as Harry. And he was very much giving off the air of flirty himself. The way he kept putting his finger up to his lip, the eye contact, his arm reaching across the couch behind her… His body language was a dead giveaway.

 “You don’t think you’re interesting?”

Y/n smiled. He was good. Of course that was a good line to use on someone he didn’t know. She was wondering something very specific that he’d yet to admit. That she was there for some fun. A quick romp. He had a need that he wanted filled and so did she. The reason he’d asked her to his room was for that. Yet he insisted on playing coy.

“I know I’m interesting. But you don’t know me. So why is it that you’ve asked me here?” She raised her brows at him as he stood and walked to the buffet across the room.

“I felt comfortable with you from the start. It’s nice to have a conversation with someone new once in a while. Not someone in the industry,” Harry turned back with a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in his other, “and sorry I didn’t offer you a drink. Wine?”

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

#famous!harry #plus size!reader #harry x reader #harry styles #sneak peek #firstpost #harry styles smut #reader request #commission #pop star!harry #one direction #1d #dom!harry #sub!reader #harry x yn #harry x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles writing

[fluentmoviequoter]

Hey! So I was really excited to read your post about birthday fics because my birthday is actually on friday the 13th! How funny is that?

I wanted to request (maybe only if possible) these two prompts that I thought go perfect together: “baking a birthday cake together” and “taking a bit of icing off the cake and putting it on their cheek” with Dalton 🫶🏻

Happy Birthday, Blake!!! That's a very fitting birthday for you and I'm honestly kind of jealous. I know it's a couple days early, but I wanted to make sure you have this in plenty of time. I love these requests together and I hope you enjoy it! 🤍

Warnings: fluff, cake, pet names, established relationship. 1.5k+ words.

Missed a Spot

“Are there bears there?”

Dalton says your name as he shakes his head. “We’re not playing 20 Questions. I’m not telling you where we’re going, no matter how hard you try to guess.”

You cross your arms in the passenger seat and pout, pushing your bottom lip out when he glances over at you.

“Or how cute you look.”

“You think I’m cute?” you ask, sitting up straighter.

“I think you know exactly what I think about you,” Dalton says seriously, hitting his blinker.

You fail to respond as you take in the beautiful scenery surrounding you. When Dalton told you he was taking you on a trip for your birthday, you pictured a day trip, not a weekend-long stay in your favorite place. Dalton turns a few more times before parking. He helps you out of the car, and you can't help but stare at the beautiful house.

Dalton wraps his arms around your waist and sets his chin on your shoulder as he asks, “What do you think?”

“Are we staying here?” you ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“Welcome to your birthday palace, princess,” he says dramatically, bowing before he takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

While Dalton unloads the car, you explore the house, feeling like you’re in a real palace. You love Dalton and know he loves you, but he went above and beyond for your birthday; the first of many, hopefully. 

“Meet me in the kitchen!” Dalton yells. You barely hear him as he adds, “Wherever you are.”

You walk into the kitchen and gasp at the number of items on the counter. You see boxes of cake, lots of icing, and blue decorations for the cake. Dalton holds up the candles and asks where you want to start.

While you whisk the cake batter, Dalton prepares the pans and sorts the decorations. Everything is your favorite, from the blue decorations to the type of flavoring. Dalton put a lot of thought into the house, the cake, and the entire weekend. 

“Are you sure this is the flavor combination you want? We have the stuff to make more cakes or different flavors,” Dalton says as you pour the last bowl of batter into a round pan.

“No, this is perfect. Thank you, Dalton.”

He takes the pan and turns toward the oven, but not before kissing your temple.

“Okay, cakes are in the oven,” Dalton says, reaching around you to start a timer. “Want to make icing?”

You nod and peck his lips, thinking he is ready to start now. He chases your lips when you pull back, kissing you properly until you can neither think nor breathe. When he finally backs away, though his arms remain around your waist, he whispers another happy birthday wish.

“Icing?” you whisper, incredibly grateful for the previous distraction.

“Anything you want, it’s your birthday.”

As the icing takes shape, soft peaks forming as you stir it, you fail to see Dalton moving beside you stealthily. You finally notice him when cold icing is smeared across your cheek.

“How did that happen?” Dalton asks innocently, hiding his frosting-coated finger behind his back. “Let me help.”

He leans in and kisses your skin below the frosting, then moves upward to clear the offending sugar. You try not to squirm when his teeth rake over your cheekbone. Dalton’s arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer until he deems your face clean and icing-free.

“Thanks,” you say, looking anywhere but at Dalton.

He laughs and then steps to the side to get another batch of icing started. Dalton focuses on measuring the amounts as you did, and you seize your opportunity. You dip your finger into the bowl before tracing Dalton’s lips.

“Oh no,” you say, blending faux innocence and sarcasm. “Do you need some help?”

Dalton smirks, careful not to disturb your icing paint job. “I really do,” he answers.

You lean forward and raise your hands to his shoulders while his hands rest on your hips. As you kiss him, you feel the icing transferring to your face, creating a bigger mess than you expected. Laughing against Dalton’s lips, you try to back away. Dalton’s arms wrap around your waist, and he dips his head to follow you, desperate for the taste of you (and the icing). With each movement, you get stickier and don’t realize you also have icing on your fingers. Ignorant of the stickiness coating your faces and clothes, you get lost in one another.

When people ask what you want for your birthday, the answer is this.

Dalton’s phone begins to ring as the timer goes off, signaling the completion of the cakes. You pull back, panting as you lean your forehead against Dalton’s. He recovers quicker than you and retrieves the cakes from the oven. While the cakes cool, you clean the kitchen together and talk about Dalton’s other plans for your birthday. He wants it to be memorable, and just a few hours into the weekend, he has already succeeded.

“Icing first, then decorations,” you tell Dalton upon returning to the kitchen.

“Yes, chef,” Dalton calls, walking behind you.

You each have two cakes to work on, which will become a giant four-tier cake. Dalton allows you to do most of the decorating, giving you advice and kisses when you ask for them. After the first cake, you convince him to help more, and he decorates one of the layers for you, standing in front of it, so it’s a surprise.

Dalton covers your eyes as he leads you into the dining room to see the assembled cake, telling you that your presents come after the cake.

“Dalton, you’ve done more than enough. You did not have to get me a present.”

“Maybe I am the present,” he quips.

Uncovering your eyes, you see the finished cake and laugh, jumping into Dalton’s arms as you thank him. Every inch of it is perfect, and the memories you made baking it were worth the cleanup time. Dalton pulls your chair out and cuts the cake before sitting beside you. Just as you take the first bite, you feel Dalton wipe something over your cheekbone.

“Happy Birthday,” he says, smiling as he licks the icing off his finger. “Oh, did we miss a spot earlier?”

#dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fluff #birthday fic #dalton lambert #requests #fem!reader

[boqvistsbabe]

Update!!!!!!!!

Hey Y’all!!

Here is the start of hopefully monthly updates. I know in my last update I said I was going to be more consistently here and active. Obviously, that didn’t happen lol. Trying to hold myself to that rn. So this is probably going to be the format for all of my update posts, just so they are easier to follow.

Refresh:

So I am almost completely done with the blog refresh. I think all that is left is updating links and getting some other posts (ex: theme days) made/redone. Most of that got put on the back burner due to how long they were going to take lol. But hopefully, over Spring Break, I’ll be able to get those done (no promises, another thing I’m trying to do, is be more realistic about what I want to get done by when so). 

Writing/Other Content:

Ik I said I’d write more. Once again didn’t really happen. Well, I have written a decent bit, but never finished anything. There is one fic that I am going to try and work on after this week (midterms lol) and have someone look over it (the first time I’ve had a beta reader, look at me go lol). Like the blog as a whole, I am trying to organize my writing, like requests and my ideas and what is going out when etc. (@ any of the other writers if you have any suggestions of what to/where to organize my stuff so it doesn’t get all confusing and mixed up you should def let me know). Speaking of requests, I am going to try and do at least two requests a month. That doesn’t sound like a lot but for me, that feels like something I can realistically do. I will be doing old requests first because even though they are years old at this point, I liked the ideas so I genuinely want to write them. I am still going to be accepting new requests (esp because sometimes that helps spark creativity/help with writer’s block so feel free to send in any ideas!!) but I will try to get those older ones done first. As for any other content (playlists, moodboards, IG edits, drawings, etc.) I am also taking requests for those so feel free to send in any of those requests too. 

Another Blog?!

As of rn the second hockey blog has not been “released”. I want to catch up on things for this blog before I throw that into the mix and try to grow that as well. I am hoping to add that sometime this summer. Also, I do technically have a sideblog already (@samistheman) which is normally where I reblog random things, and I don’t really have tags for that blog I just kinda willy-nilly reblog there (it used to be mostly PJO stuff but now that’s kind of here because of how much of it there is lol).

Life Update:

College is a lot rn. I’m doing 17 credit hours and tbh do not know what possessed me to do that. At first, I was doing pretty good, but now not so much. Like I said earlier I have midterms this week. If y’all didn’t know this, I’m shit at taking tests so not doing great rn. Thankfully one of my classes ends on Sunday so at least I don’t have to worry about that. I’ve had a lot going on in my personal life recently that is impacting a lot so trying to navigate that as well. I am moving out in May, which is yes months from now but there is still a lot that I need to do beforehand. Anyway, I’m going to a college hockey game on Thursday and I am super excited. I haven’t been able to go to a game since October. Also little fun update, I’m going on a weekend (work) trip to Boston. Super excited for that. I’ll be getting to go to a Celtics game and a Red Sox game (I’m a Royals girlie tho). I’ve never been to an NBA game so that’s for sure gonna be really cool. I’ve been to many MLB games before but this will be my first at a different stadium. Anyway, I think that is it for this update. Hope y’all are doing well!!

As usual, if y’all ever want to talk dms/inbox are open <3

I am going to tag some moots, I am totally forgetting some people so I am sorry for that (if y'all could reblog that would be amazing)

@2manytabsopen @krugstrash @jimmystrudel @andreburakozy @sidneycrosbyhoe @fallinallincurls @timstuetzle @typical-simplelove @ilyasorokinn @drei-mrssvechii

#blog things

[fabbyf1]

Howdy, Besties 🫡

I hope everyone is doing well and staying hydrated!

I am taking a much needed vacation as of tomorrow morning until the end of the month. (I AM FREE AT LAST!!!!!) I probably won't write very much while I'm there.

BUT HERE'S THE GOOD NEWS:

I have a quick little Lestappen PWP in the works for you! I've finished writing it; it just needs to be edited. I think you are going to enjoy it. I think it will also make you scream... (in a good way), and I'm very excited to see your reaction. I'm a fucking meme if I've ever seen one. This will most likely be posted tomorrow night (Friday PST). Hopefully, this can hold you all over until I get back home 😈😂😎

I've started working on a longer plotty fic again! But it's going to be a different pairing this time around. I hope that's okay with you all. I know many of you are only here for Lestappen, and that's okay! I love Lestappen, and I'm not done writing for them by any means. I have lots of fic ideas and WIPS for them. They're my fav ship to write for. I have just owed @takenquicklys a Maxiel fic for a while now... 😂

I'll still be lurking around these streets while on vacation, bothering you all, and posting cursed content. I'm not planning on disappearing. I'm just not going to force myself to write (for once). If it happens, it happens, but I'm not planning on writing until I get home.

ANYWAY... my plotty Maxiel fic will probably take a few weeks to write, but in the meantime, here's a little snippet for you. I hope you'll enjoy it, even if you're only here for Lestappen! This fic is a little angstier than I normally write... but it will still have lots of Fabby Fluff.

Enjoy besties and have a great weekend!

When Daniel decided to leave Red Bull in 2018, Max was... confused. He wasn’t hurt, necessarily, but it was hard not to take it a little bit personally. Because nobody leaves Red Bull Racing to go to a mid-field team. 

It had to be at least a little bit personal. 

Their last season together got a little rough around the edges. After being teammates for so many years, they were bound to come together on track every now and then. It was nowhere near the battle of the silver arrows back in 2016, but every time they came together in 2018 seemed to be worse than the time before. 

They could usually move past it.

They would ignore each other for a day to cool off, and then they’d pretend like nothing ever happened.

It was good.

It was working.

But some incidents were harder to move past than others.

(Well done, Baku.) 

After Daniel left, things got better. They were able to just be friends again and not worry about being teammates. Max became the veteran of his team and saw new teammates come and go, and Daniel had great results for Renault. 

Everything was going great for both of them. 

But then McLaren happened. 

McLaren took a lot from both of them. 

For Daniel, it took away his pride. It took away his confidence. It turned this tall, cocky, king of the late-breaking man into a too-small, too-skinny, twitchy-on-the-break-pedal kind of guy. It was hard to watch at times. 

To make matters worse for him, everyone compared him to Lando. Which wasn’t fair because Lando had been with McLaren for years. Lando already knew how to get the most out of that shit-box of a car. Daniel still had to learn. 

For Max, it was hard to watch his best friend hit rock bottom. Especially because Max was having such a great year in comparison. He was leading the championship for the first time. He was winning every weekend, his race suit was always damp with champagne, and he was confident that he would become World Champion at the end of the year. 

2021 was the best and worst year of his life. 

He won the championship, but he lost his best friend. 

Fucking McLaren.

#WIP Snippet #woooooo exciting things in the works!!!!!

[benkyoutobentou]

31 Days of Productivity Reading: Day Two

Before: Alright, I think I should show you my manga tracking sheet. I don't actually have any organization for my unread Japanese novels, but I have a tbr shelf for my English novels and the aforementioned Sheet for my manga. Also, I should be going to pick up (guess what) (take a guess) (yeah okay you guessed it) more books today! I should have a package at the post office today, if I don't I'll cry because it should have been sitting there for a few days and that's way too much manga to lose in the mail. Yes you will be getting a haul photo. And how much did I spend on it total? Less than ten USD. I only paid shipping! The internet is a very wonderful place with many wonderful people.

I usually don’t have a whole lot of time to read on Saturdays because I’m running errands all day, but I’m hoping to finish another chapter of No. 6 (I did finish a chapter last night!). This next chapter is shorter than usual for this series (about thirty pages as opposed to around fifty) so hopefully I will be able to get some manga reading in today as well. I’m fully expecting to keep saying that and not reading any manga until I finish this book.

After: As expected and as usual, my reading time was pretty condensed today and have only read for a total of one hour and eight minutes. Like yesterday, though, I'm planning on reading for around another hour before bed to finish up this chapter. I'm about halfway through, so that puts me on track for that timeline.

As you saw, my manga did come in today! It’s the two stacks on their sides. Where you see them is where they’re staying. I planned to go to Ikea today to get height extensions for my bookcases, but they were out of stock. :') They were in stock last weekend and last time I bought a bookcase, I had to wait probably three weeks for it to come in. I love how the only Ikea in my area never stocks anything. Anyways, my new manga tracking sheet is so ridiculous, now you see why I need this challenge. If you see any favorites on the list that I should get to sooner rather than later, feel free to bully me into reading it :3c

I also had another package that was less expected; my Notebook Therapy notebook came in! I've been waiting on this for two weeks now, and I can finally start studying ASL now that I have it! Unfortunately, I doubt I actually will, because this upcoming week for me is going to be insanely busy.

The day’s final update: I didn’t end up finishing the chapter, but at this point I’d rather sleep. The next chapter is also on the shorter side so hopefully it won’t be too much of an issue to fit these extra pages in there. Also, as an established No. 6 fan, I know that this chapter is going to end with a hugely important revelation for Shion, so I’m a bit disappointed that I didn’t have the time to finish it. But it’s something to look forward to for tomorrow!

For today’s totals, I read twenty pages in an hour and twenty seven minutes. That’s 4.3 minutes per page, which is pretty much exactly what I clocked yesterday as well. At least I’m consistent!

#benkyou posting #30 days of productivity #langblr #studyblr #language learning #studying #polyglot #booklr #im scheduling this one so it doesnt post at such an odd time like yesterdays post #my notebook has a train on it! #I’ll be honest I thought it was a boat until I saw it in person today but I think I like the train better #two for two station idol latch mentions how long can I keep it going #(joking)

[veratasswrites]

Cross-Post of Writeblr Intro!

Writeblr Re-Intro

(Originally posted to @directionoftime - just moving my writeblr to this blog!)

Hey Writeblr!! I attempted to join the community a few years back but way too quickly found myself overwhelmed and ended up fizzling out >.> but I'm back now and hoping to make a better (less stressed out) effort! A bit worried I might have burnt-off some of the writeblr folks by just kinda peace-ing out, but I really do hope to make a better go of it this time around and post/interact more often! (I have so many writeblr posts to catch up on, yikes!)

About me: Vera (she/her) I have been writing consistenly for a solid 15ish years now, have a creative writing master's behind me, (and over a million combined words in fan-fic LOL) and finally feel in a creative place where I'm ready to (hopefully) start publishing, in whatever form it takes!

So, onto the point here: Novel Intro!

YES! Some of you (might) remember my novel Sauvarin - well, it's back, babey! And about 95-99% complete!! Currently on my last round of scene-rewrites and line editing before I begin the horrifying task of querying!

Only been ten years in the making, lmao >.>

So, what the heck is SAUVARIN??

TLDR: fantasy post-apocalypse featuring an autistic blacksmith who is utterly oblivious to the local boot-legger Trying Very HArd to be her girlfriend (pray for Yenn, y'all! She is being SO brave about it!) Said blacksmith, Isaura, is instead on A Mission Of Great Importance to inter the ashes of her surrogate father, Soo-young, in his childhood home town. Except, no one's ever heard of this town, the internet's broken, and she accidenatlly discovers that METAL IS LIVING NOW???

Why do all "simple requests" always end up being the most cataclysmic???

Want to know more? Please go ahead, if not, thanks for looking in this far :)

Well, on to major themes and elements! We've got:

NON-DYSTOPIAN post-apocalypse (we're currently living in the dystopia, y'all!), set in the near distant future where the vast majority of humanity has fled climate change to an orbital space station leaving circa 10million people on earth. The endlings determined to protect what they still can, raise their children, protect their towns, and face whatever magic storms come their way. But right now? They have food, they have community, and there's always something silly to laugh at!

It is a LOW-FANTASY, meaning we've got: freaky and intelligent animals! A magic so new to the world, most people don't realise it's possible! The corpse of god! Cool mushrooms! A darkness that watches YOU! Baba-Yaga (she's a scientist now)! Old women who Take No Shit But Absolutely Know How To Harm!

NATURE mutating - what it "reclaims" in some areas, it mutates in others, or simply allows itself to start anew. Nature in this novel is very much embodiying the quote: "you cannot kill me in a way that matters". Freaky deer. Metal predators. Plants that grab onto YOU.

NOBODY WINS, BUT NO ONE LOSES EITHER the head of Department for Zoology took one look at the "provisional government" and just fucked off into the woods (Baba Yaga). "The Hero" of the orbital space station realising what their heroism actually cost the earth in raw materials. The dead are returned, but not to the life they remembered leaving. Sometimes you do, in fact, find the ghost of a child in the woods (it's okay if you are not sure what to do next).

Well, that's probably enough for now. I'll do some character intro posts (as memes!) hopefully over the weekend - it's a fairly big cast with a lot of minor-in-screen-time-but-major-in-plot characters so it'll be a bit of a series, I think.

Any questions? Feel free to ask! But I will be moving all writeblr stuff/posts about this blog over to my new side blog @veratasswrites so if you want to follow the posts, please follow that blog!

I'll tag some of the old writeblrs I'd followed/who were so awesome and welcoming the first time - but if you're not interested or anything I really mean NO PRESSURE!

@ryan-shepard-writes, @writeblrfantasy, @magic-is-something-we-create

Anyone's welcome to be +/- tag list!

Thank's so much for reading! :)



#writeblr intro #writeblr #fantasy writeblr #sauvarin

[bellybiologist]

February 2024 Patreon Announcements

February! The year is trying to be rocky already as Madame January has made us feel all 31 of her days, but hopefully things will pick up and smooth out! I got a couple big announcements this month, especially pertaining to commissions.

Firstly, it being February also means: It is Black History Month. Like the last few years, it has me feeling A Way™, so I'll be doing a little special thing for this month's poll! Canonically Black Characters, and characters whose presentation that can be interpreted as Black, will be receiving a +5 Black History Vote. As a black filipina woman (in case people have forgotten), i'm very sad that rarely do these characters get suggested, and even more rarely win. So for this month, these guys will be getting an extra boost in the poll! 

Commissions (still open) will have their price structuring changing this month! As explained in This Post, I will be increasing my prices. My plan is to have final prices decided and active by Feb 14th. People who want to get on the list, or alter their commissions before the increase are free to do so, and are allowed to have a maximum of 4 figures (without line style limitation). The form does not reflect this yet, as I will try to have that updated during this weekend. I've received helpful feedback about the methods, and i'm still open to more!

Now the usual announcements:

February 2024's Poll will be up shortly! and this month's Theme is Valentine's Day with the 1st place winner getting a 3 part sequence! The usual holiday juggernaut for this month, but also don't let it stop you from using in-universe romance holidays that would better fit the character! November 2023's Fill wills be going into the access to the past and higher tiers!

February 2022 and 2023's fills will be released and free to view! As per usual, I'll bulk upload them onto my drive and pixiv, and spread them out over the course of the week on tumblr and discord (only notification of the uploads to the drive will go up on twitter/X site). I'll also be putting up a February New Uploads Folder in my drive so people can keep up with what goes up this month, while deleting the December Uploads folder.

A new Reward Request Post will be going up, too! Patrons are free to leave one in there even if you already have one from last month's! December's requests will have expired though! So if those haven't been drawn, you will need to re-suggest them. January's will expire when March rolls around. See this document to see whats on the list, what expired, and what has been done!

As always, thanks for the support!

#patreon announcements

[whatthisfemsheplikes]

GUESS WHO’S BACK

I HAVE AWOKEN FROM MY *checks calendar* TWO YEAR SLUMBER! MAY THE G/T ANGST RAIN DOWN UPON THIS PAGE ONCE MORE!

In all seriousness though, hi! I’ve got some news!

I don’t know if anyone will still remember this, but I used to have a sideblog a few years ago where I posted my g/t story called See Me. Unfortunately, I decided to delete that sideblog for a number of reasons, but eventually I came back to my main and said I’d put See Me somewhere else, potentially on AO3. Right after I said that, I asked for an invitation to AO3, did a little bit of waiting and then... totally forgot about it.

What can I say? We were in the heat of Covid times, my mental health was at an ATL, I was moving, and lots of other adult stuff happened. Since then, I just felt kind of bad about returning to this page with no new content of my own to put out. I used to write a lot and enjoy it, but lots of stuff in my life has been going on the past two years that hasn’t really motivated me to do any writing or creating of any kind. I know that I could still be liking and reblogging stuff, but coming back here just made me miss what I used to create, so I stopped for a little while. 

BUT NOT FOR LONG! While it may not sound great, through a lot of self-reflection and therapy, I’ve kind of discovered that nowadays, I turn to g/t content when I’m going through a hard time. And, not gonna lie, I’m DEEP in the trenches from fucked up life events right now, so naturally, I found myself back on tumblr to connect with the g/t community again. But not on this page. That’s right! I made a new page and I’ve been LURKIN’ out here! And no, I will not reveal what that page is, but feel free to tell me if you think you’ve figured it out and I’ll be more than happy to tell you if that page is me or not. 

Anyway, since I’ve been lurking and consuming as much g/t content as I can get my hands on, I’ve also gone back to my own archives and read through See Me about a billion more times. Not only did I polish it up a lot while keeping everything pretty much the same (mostly fixing spelling and grammar) but I also just told myself “you know what, I still really like this story.” And reading so many other amazing stories from other g/t writers on here really inspired me to finally get out there and put See Me back into the universe, while also writing a few new stories and AUs in the process that will hopefully see the light of day at some point. 

ALL OF THAT TO SAY... I did it. See Me is finally up on AO3 right now! At least, MOST of it is. I really had to take a hard look at my word doc and think “why did I do this to myself” when I counted 39 chapters with almost 400 pages that I wanted to reread, edit again, and possibly add some polish on, chapter by chapter before putting it on AO3. As of writing this, I started uploading chapters last night and am currently done uploading chapter 19. So... about halfway done! I’m still going to keep uploading as I had the time to do so (I do have work tomorrow so... not as much time as the weekend but I’m going to post more) and eventually all 39 chapters will be available just as you remember them (or are reading for the first time if you never got to read See Me before). 

I’ll also be uploading any of the prompt stories and other short stories I made to AO3, and any prompts that I get and write here in the future will be available there as well. Like I said, I have some new ideas too, some AUs and some completely new universes with new OCs that have also been sitting in my hard drive since I first started writing g/t stuff years ago. I’m hoping to keep up this motivation and to eventually write and put out those stories on AO3 too, so stick around for that if you’re interested! 

To anyone that is still following this page and has maybe even been waiting for See Me to come back, thank you for your patience and support. I hope you still enjoy what I put out there, and I hope to keep up this motivation to create, even after things hopefully get better in my personal life. 

As a little aside, some of the big motivators in my comeback, even though they wouldn’t know it, are @not-a-space-alien with their story Watch Your Step, @marydublinauthor and @bittykimmy13 with all their wonderful Shot In The Dark and Print/Trinket stories (please go buy their books, they are absolutely amazing), and @ratcatcher0325​ with their stories A Fraction of Justice and Nobody’s Fool. I know that these tags might come out of nowhere for all of you, as I don’t think I’ve interacted with any of you personally on this account, but your stories inspire me so much that it really pushed me to put my work back out there again, especially if my work could make someone as happy as all your stories make me. So thank you! I look forward to reading all that you create in the future! And in case you’re thinking “but you only just started following me today/recently,” well, like I said, I’ve been lurking on another account, so I’m sure you might’ve seen me there and just not known it. Anyway, keep up the amazing work, and everyone else please go read their stuff! It’s awesome and full of g/t goodness!

Well, I think that’s everything I had to say. I’m going to try and be more active on here and not just update about my AO3, because I don’t think that would be very fun. I’ll still get on here and like and reblog things that I like so feel free to stick around and interact. And if you want to interact with my work, please visit my AO3 page right here, or search for whatthisfemsheplikes on AO3! I’d love to see you there! Here’s to the future and I hope you all have some happy holidays coming up!

- Mo-Mo

TLDR; Life sucks but I’ve posted See Me, my g/t story, on AO3 so it’s back on the internet. You can read that and anything else I write on my page right here, or find me under the same username whatthisfemsheplikes on AO3! 

#whatthisfemshepthinks #whatthisfemshepwrites #g/t #g/t stories #g/t writing #see me #Tori and Wesley #there is a hint about my second account on this post