#FastBurn

[thusspoketrish]

Chapters 1 & 2 | The Art of Getting By

NEW Drarry Fic! Chapters 1 & 2

This is a story about love. Draco is on a desperate mission to escape the devastating voice controlling his life, taunting him about his past, and cursing his future. As he reaches his breaking point, he’s sent to a psychiatric hospital, rendered mute, and struggles to find meaning in moving forward. Harry, grappling with his own demons, has been spiralling out of control with an unchecked temper. Unable to escape the anger that has consumed him, he finds himself involuntarily committed, believing that there’s little hope in achieving the semblance of normalcy he craves post-war.

Their paths collide, and fate proves how beautiful and cruel it can be.

Please mind the tags/warnings.

Read The Art of Getting By on AO3, here.

[shannee10]

**NEW CHAPTER**

Brothers talk. Discoveries are made. Pizzas are assembled. Confessions are told.

Mickey has divulged some pretty serious information, possibly taking their relationship a step further, but Ian's reaction... might just take the cake.

[joyffree]

A surprise heat shouldn’t lead to two little pink lines…

Pick up the latest omegaverse release from Letty Frame today! An Accidental Nest is now live!

An Accidental Nest is a standalone reverse harem, sweet omegaverse romance with no cliffhangers or unanswered questions—just a happily ever after for Emmeline and her men! Expect growly, possessive Alphas fussing over their pregnant Omega, a determined Omega balancing her goals with pregnancy, and an uptight Beta trying to keep them all in line!

[klance-dreams]

Fastburn

(This rec is a work in progress) For Kris! 🙂 (Restricted) Bright Eyes by: amycoolz, SylWritesStuff, Word Count: 212,439, Rating: Explicit, Summary: When Keith agrees to meet Hunk for a study session at the mall food court, he isn’t expecting him to bring his roommate. He isn’t expecting to be asked on a date, to accept, and to enjoy himself more than he has in years. He’s definitely not…

[wornoutspines]

𝐈𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬? 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞. Check out VIOLENT DESIRE by Ariana Nash, the first book in the fast-burn MM paranormal romance series, Blackrose Brotherhood - on sale for just 99c! 🖤 Buy or borrow your copy today → getbook.at/BlackroseBrotherhood1 

✔️ Vampire Romance

✔️ Enemies to Lovers

✔️ Urban Fantasy

✔️ Fast Burn

✔️ Touch Him and 💀 _

Connect ➤ FB: ariananashbooks | IG: ariananashauthor | 𝕏: ariananashbooks

[nofacebookreader]

Flames of Chaos(SPOILERS)

Book: Flames of Chaos by Amelia Hutchins

Before Reading Thoughts: It’s just a popular series that’s recommended. Unsure what it’s about outside the summary.

-Chapter 1: Was not aware this was an urban fantasy. We’re in a city.

-Chapter 2: We’ve already used “darkly” a few too many times

Oooof, a lord of the ring reference. I usually don;t do urban fantasy but we’ll try

-Chapter 3: Why are we already talking about sex? Good god… is this insta love?

Wow I’d be drunk if i took a shot every time i heard “chuckled darkly”

“I’m not like other witches” what am i reading?

-Chapter 5: This is def not a slow burn… already heard about a hard on.

We are in chapter 5 and all this talk of sex should be happening much later. I guess this is what i get for going into a book blind

Legacy of the nine realms? Yeah, this is the series that’s highly recommended.

I am so confused, why is nox in the house?

-Chapter 7: I feel like I’m in a fever dream; what is happening? So much swearing and lustful commentary. Where’s the plot? I swear we’ve mentioned more often that she’s a virgin than remembering she’s looking for her sister.

-Chapter 8: This is quickly becoming a “tiktok/the internet lied to me” - “he spoke huskily” is another one I’ve hard twice in the last two paragraphs

Good god this is a DNF! I’d recommend this book for anyone that prefers dirty talk over anything else in fiction

Had to triple check this was the correct "Legacy of the Nine Realms" series and yeah, it is. Big nope.

[cuntmand]

armand on his ao3 account: greetings, everyone! i deeply apologize so much time has elapsed since my last update. due to unforeseen circumstances, i was forced to reveal my true identity to my former flame whose memory i erased 5 decades ago and who is currently interviewing my husband of 77 years. since then, we have been caught in a most exciting game of emotional manipulation, but i managed to find some time to write another chapter. i hope you enjoy it, and please, do not shy away from leaving your commentary. yours truly, the vampire armand 🧛

[vicariousandvain]

❝ embers! ❞ — part. iii

synopsis: In which princess!reader slowly becomes encompassed with knight!jason grace

wordcount : 3.1k

read part 1 here

a/n: this ones for u girl @somewhereincairparavel ur so sweet and i hope u like it !!

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Y/N had gradually come to recognize just how often she chose to spend her time apart from others. She found solace in long, meandering walks through the forest’s tranquil embrace, where the rustling leaves and whispering winds offered a quiet companionship.

Many idle hours were spent away within the castle’s grand library, surrounded by ancient tomes and forgotten lore, her fingers tracing the faded pages as her mind wandered. Between these moments of solitude, she often retreated into the delicate world of her own making—penning whimsical, frivolous stories that danced between reality and fantasy, filling the quiet spaces of her days with imagined adventures and secret dreams.

She was often alone, but not lonely. Y/N was content with such a quiet, candid life for a very long time, but lately she began to wonder—what good is lucid living, if it led nowhere at all? Her father had no other children; she would become the heir, no doubt. She supposed things would grow more interesting once her father was fed up with her pleas for a “normal” life. He most likely had suitors lined up for her right now, waiting to let them ravage for her attention. 

But then again, how normal could you be when you’re the sole successor to the throne?

She hated thinking about it. Hated thinking about the man she’d never learn to love, whoever he was, whoever he would become, y/n already knew he was nothing worth wasting time on. Of course, thoughts like these invaded her mind anyway, no matter how much she swore she’d never dedicate any time thinking about them. 

y/n rarely had bouts of rage like her father did, but sometimes he would drive her almost to insanity with his absurd propositions. She recalled a particularly spirited argument with her father, she had thrown her goblet of juice at his face and had said some choice words that earned her an indefinite confinement in her bedroom—but when was she ever not sequestered up there?

It was moments like those where the distinct lines that defined y/n and her father began to converge. As much as she hated it, hated him, there was no denying that she was her fathers daughter. 

Walking over to her balcony, narrowingly missing clothes and books that littered the floor, y/n opened the doors with a slight push. The cold immediately infiltrated her lungs, filling with sharp, clear air. She let the breeze envelope her body, watching as it swept stray pieces of poplar seeds through its current. 

In the distance, y/n could hear the muffled sound of chatter from beyond the castle grounds—knights making their rounds, she assumed.

She thought of Jason, wondering if he was among the silhouettes just beyond the path that led to her balcony.

It had been well over a week since the ride on horseback, and there had been no other run-ins with the knight. This absence should have brought clarity to y/n, but she couldn't help the small, though persistent feeling of disappointment lodged quietly at the back of her mind. 

Despite not seeing him face to face, she was still able to observe him from afar, veiled by the stones and shadows of the castle. She happened to find herself wandering along the gallery that overlooked the great hall—and where Jason conveniently happened to be stationed the most often.

Concealed behind the carved balustrade, y/n gazed below at the knight in shining armour.

y/n didn’t quite know what to make of him, he was nice, chivalrous—as a knight should be—but there was something about him she couldn't figure out. He was conscientious, disciplined, and there was an almost stoic aura that he seemed to carry around him, acting as a forcefield. He certainly didn't seem the type to break rules.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, which was another thing that confounded her. Jason seemed to be perfectly adequate, and yet, something about him stirred an inexplicable sense of disdain from within her. She wasn’t sure what exactly it was that seemed to elicit such a reaction, but she had deemed him worthy of it nonetheless. 

y/n leaned over the railing now, hand resting against her face, her meaningless tangent continued on in her head, ceasing for nothing but perhaps the most embarrassing moment of her life yet. 

She was inspecting the back of Jason's head, deciding that his golden mop of hair was far too shiny for anyone’s good. Before she could look away, Jason turned—and his gaze landed directly on her before casually shifting to speak with another knight.

Much to y/n’s dismay, his brain was clearly working today. His eyes snapped back to the balcony, and this time, he seemed to realize exactly who had been staring. One brow arched, his mouth pulled into a devilish smile, which only seemed to grow larger at the sight of her eyes widening.

y/n immediately withdrew from the banister, pressing herself flat against the cold stone wall. Heat rushed to her cheeks. Mortified, she began pacing the corridor, internally spiraling after being caught.

She couldn’t stop replaying the look on his face—that cocky, insufferable smile—her skin flushed an even deeper red.

Smug bastard, she thought.

y/n had to stop herself from running to her father and begging him to behead her on the spot. No, she thought, she couldn't let Jason have the pleasure of catching her in such a humiliating state, and then the satisfaction of witnessing her death. He’d have to be executed first. Yes, this suited her needs much better.

Still pacing up and down the hall, y/n decided the best and most realistic course of action was to throw herself off her bedroom balcony, succumb to her injuries and end her bloodline. 

She was never one for theatrics, but this undeniably left her with no other choice. Whatever, she thought, it’s not like she’d come across him anytime soon. 

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

y/n found herself leaning against the railing of her balcony. Recently, she seemed to frequent this spot late at night. Her mind seemed to unravel all at once, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time, it calmed her, she supposed. 

“I’m off to my room, your highness, Good night!” Lilith, y/n’s handmaiden, was preparing her bed for the night. She closed the curtains of the bed before lighting a small oil lamp on the desk, Lilith waved y/n goodnight with an extra flourish of the hand before closing the door. 

She was meant to go to bed much earlier, it must have been close to midnight now, but y/n seemed to be anything but sleepy these days. 

The warm breeze brushed softly against her skin, it was a beautiful night, not a single cloud in the sky could plague the show of the stars. Y/N exhaled slowly, arms resting against the balcony railing. The quiet was pleasant, but it did little to settle the buzz of restlessness under her skin.

She wasn’t tired, nor particularly content. Maybe a walk would help.

Her gaze drifted to the tree just beyond the edge of the balcony, she looked downwards, sizing up the distance between herself and the ground, it was a rather large drop—but manageable.

She contemplated whether or not to actually go through with the plan formulating in her head before shrugging on a light cloak. Y/N hoisted herself over the railing, praying she wouldn't fall to her death, shimmying over as close as she could to the tree, and let out a hand to secure herself on the biggest branch. 

Scaling the tree, her nightgown snagged on a stray twig every now and then, and she mentally scolded herself for not choosing better footwear. Her soft, pink slippers didn’t offer much cushion as she navigated the gnarled, tough bark. Nevertheless, she eventually made it to the branch nearest to the ground, whispered a prayer, and jumped. 

Letting out a small yelp as she made contact with the ground, she gingerly looked around and brushed herself off before setting off on a steady trek. Not quite sure where to go, she decided to just walk and see where her feet would take her.

As she drifted along the castle grounds, aimlessly kicking stray rocks that appeared in her path, y/n began to wonder about herself and her character. Those pesky thoughts of the future seemed to invade her mind, would she ever be fit to rule? The very idea of it unsettled her. Her heartbeat quickened, each beat ushering in a fresh wave of uncertainty and self-reproach.

No. This walk was meant to keep her mind off such things. y/n rolled her shoulders and released a shaky breath before marching forward. She soon found herself in a more secluded part of the garden, surrounded by mature trees and arched, flower-filled trellises, everything around her seemed to be cloaked in a rich green. After spending an absurd amount of time trying to coax the nymphs to come out—gods, how lonely was she?—she settled on quietly venturing further.

 As she wandered deeper into the garden, y/n stumbled upon a small stone bridge arched gracefully over a shallow stream. Ivy twisted up its sides, and moonlight shimmered faintly across its damp stones.

She stepped closer, but halted the second she spotted a figure perched casually atop the bridge’s edge. She took a cautious step backward, hoping to melt into the shadows before they noticed. Her heel met a dry twig. Snap.

The figure’s head jerked up.

“Who's there?” His voice was sharp, alert—far from welcoming, but something about the deep baritone was familiar, almost as if she’d heard it before. Y/N sucked in a breath, flattening herself behind the nearest tree. Maybe if she stayed perfectly still—

“Show yourself,” the voice warned again, footsteps starting toward her. 

She cringed. So much for a quiet walk. Turning before he could come any closer, y/n revealed herself to the mysterious voice. The figure stilled, confusion flickering across his features as electric blue eyes met hers and recognition slowly dawned. 

“Your highness, you really shouldn't be here at this time of night.” Jason bowed and let out a sigh, still perplexed, but relieved it was just her. She tugged her cloak around herself protectively before sneering at him, “I’m free to go wherever I please,” she snapped, her tone sharper than intended and he quirked a brow in response, taken aback by the sudden bite in her voice.

She wasn’t sure where this derision was coming from, she was generally a very pleasant person to be around, but something about Jason seemed to reconfigure her entirely. He raised both his hands in defense, “I didn’t mean anything by it, my mistake.” He gave her a roguish smile, a mischievous glint in his eyes. She suddenly had the urge to smack him. 

He was acting sort of different—to be fair, she didn't have much to base it off—but he was definitely more relaxed in that moment. When she happened to coincidentally notice him in the castle, he was much more phlegmatic and serious. But something in his demeanor changed, y/n already knew what it was, she was honestly dreading seeing him again after that little incident in the great hall. It had taken a severe hit to her ego, but had clearly done wonders to Jason’s.

Jason was pushing his luck today, he either didn’t notice the daggers she was shooting him or just chose to ignore them altogether. “Well, since you’re so determined to stay,” He took a step forward and offered his arm to her, prompting her to take hold of him. “why don’t we walk?" Irritation flared up from under her skin as she gave him a slow once-over; his eyebrow still raised, waiting for her to make a move. 

She scoffed, and promptly swept past him. 

Jason watched as she disappeared further into the dense forest, he was momentarily caught off guard by her steady pace. He fell into step behind her, quickly matching her stride.

Y/N slightly turned her head towards him, “What were you doing here anyway? Slacking off on rounds, I assume?” her voice was laced with taunt, but there were traces of genuine curiosity tucked between the words. Jason looked at her with furrowed brows, almost troubled by this notion. “I finished my patrols hours ago. I come here when I have free time to spare,” He replied, his tone clipped and dutiful, chin slightly tilted upward with reserved pride. Y/N had to bite her lip to restrain herself from laughing. 

“Gods, you’re like an automaton,” she said—partly because it was true, partly because she wanted to get a rise out of him. 

Jason didn’t respond. Instead, he came to an abrupt stop beside a patch of wildflowers, lowering his gaze as if suddenly fascinated by them. His shoulders stiffened just enough to betray him. He crouched down, reaching out toward a bloom, but didn’t touch it. For a moment, he just looked, saying nothing. 

He pondered over what y/n had said, he’d heard similar things from many people before, his friends, his sister, his mother probably would have shared the same sentiment if she bothered to stick around.

Jason’s mother rescinded her responsibility of him when he was barely 2 years old, leaving him at a noblewoman's house. No note. No explanation. Just a nameless person pressing a child into the arms of a confused servant before vanishing into the mist. The noblewoman took him in—whether out of pity, curiosity, or some unspoken debt, no one ever said.

He grew up among the stable hands and scullery boys, not quite servant, not quite family. At seven, he was forced to start training. He served as a page, fetching armor, memorizing the lay of the land, reciting the noble codes he could barely understand. 

He never knew a childhood beyond discipline, drills, and the chill bite of the wind during dawn marches. While others chose the path of knighthood, Jason was forged in it—raised by steel, trained by gritted commands and hard silences. By fourteen, he was a squire to one of the order’s most brutal commanders. And by the time he earned his knighthood, he'd already seen more blood than most men twice his age. 

(a/n: the following paragraph is an excerpt from BoO, I thought rick did a perfect job of describing why jason is the way he is)

Jason supposed that all of his “automaton” likeness came from hollow words left by his mother, all he had of her was small, fragmented remnants of memory. She assured him she would return, but he’d never wake to see her face again. His mothers unkept promise was at the core of who he was. He built his entire life around the irritation of her words, like the grain of sand at the center of a pearl. People lie. Promises are broken. That was why, as much as it chafed him, Jason followed rules. He kept his promises. He never wanted to abandon anyone the way he'd been abandoned and lied to. 

Y/N immediately took notice of the subtle change in his presence, he had a crease in between his brows and his gaze hadn’t faltered from the flowers. They stayed silent for almost an entire minute, the strained quiet was teetering on the edge of discomfort before he cleared his throat. 

“I guess.” Jason sighed before pointing to a clearing nestled between the heavy trees. “Shall we sit down for a bit?” He gestured for her to follow him into the thicket. 

Woah, okay—She didn’t mean for this to turn all solemn, y/n quickly glanced at him before looking away. Brushing off a few stray twigs from the space, Jason removed his cloak and laid it on the ground. He sank down onto it with a quiet exhale, leaning back as a despondent look settled in his eyes.

Y/N looked at him once more, watching how the moonlight traced the lines of his figure. Then she sat beside him, careful to leave a respectable amount of space between them.

She wasn't quite sure why she was entertaining this, if it were any other knight y/n was certain she’d walk herself all the way back to the castle and give in to her exhaustion. Yet, there was a particular presence about Jason that intrigued her, drawing her closer despite her apparent reluctance.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I didn’t mean to insinuate you were apathetic or anything—I was just teasing a little.” She babbled on for a moment, but then he paused, tilting his head as he looked at her, a flicker of bemusement in his eyes. After a brief silence, he threw his head back and howled with laughter.

 She stared at him in disbelief, debating whether to fire off a quick retort or take back her apology, but her breath hitched as she noticed the muscles in his neck tense with each laugh. His adam’s apple bobbed with every breath and she could surely trace the veins with her finger if she just reached out and—

Y/N snapped back to reality as Jason forced himself to calm down, his shoulders still slightly convulsing “Forgive me, your grace.” He struggled to speak through a smile as he wiped the corners of his eyes. Really? There was no way anything she could have said was humorous enough to bring tears to his eyes. 

She glowered at him, arms crossed over her chest, expectantly waiting for an explanation for such an outburst in response to her humble apology. Jason looked above them, gazing at the way the canopy of the trees just barely met each other, leaving just enough space as not to disturb the crown of neighboring foliage. His eyes followed the channel-like spaces that allowed streams of moonlight to fall through. 

A mellow expression softened his face before ushering out something close to a whisper. “I haven't laughed like that in a while.” He gave her a small look of apology before smiling again. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so flustered, it just… caught me off guard, that’s all.” He gave a small shrug. She raised a brow in response, amusement tugging at her lips as a smile of her own crept in. He added with a grin, “You looked so serious—I couldn’t help it.” 

Y/N didn’t say anything—nor did Jason. The pair settled into a newfound, comfortable silence, contentedly reveling in each other’s presence. They let the quiet stretch between them and simply sat, listening to the forest breathe around them. 

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

Later that night, nestled beneath her covers, Y/N exhaled quietly, her gaze fixed upon the ceiling as her thoughts meticulously replayed the events of the evening. Though Jason remained a source of irritation, an undeniable tranquility began to settle within her—a subtle acknowledgment that perhaps, beneath it all, he was not so disagreeable as she had believed.

[helaemonds]

oshamirs won the battle with qimir NOT being present at brendok during the fire (and meeting the twins which would create an unbalanced grooming dynamic), now we must try to win the war: getting canon romantic confirmation in show with oshamir in just one episode, possibly even a kiss 👁️👁️👁️

[ofmdee]

All According to Plan (5677 words) by gaydeviants, pirate_captains_captain_pirates Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Our Flag Means Death (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet Characters: Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Stede Bonnet Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Set During S1e5 The Best Revenge is Living Well, Explicit Sexual Content, Trans Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Blackbeard | Edward Teach Has a Praise Kink, Stede Bonnet Has a Praise Kink, they both just like to be praised okay., Blackbeard | Edward Teach Wears Fine Things Well, First Kiss, Getting Together, Porn with Feelings, they are so down bad for each other, Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, Tender Sex, NSFW Art, Embedded Images Summary:

Blackbeard always has a plan. That's how these things work. And from the moment he met Stede Bonnet, the ending was already decided, the plan was already in motion - but maybe, just maybe, plans can change.

What if Ed really had kissed Stede under the moonlight in s1e5?

This fic contains embedded NSFW gifs!

kicking my leggies @piratecaptainscaptainpirates and i have a new collaboration for ya'll and i think u will love it!!!! first collaboration of the new year and we're not even a week in yet, we are killing it!! 😤

pls enjoy!! 😘

[noisesfrombeyondtheuniverse]

ume-san is the classic extrovert collecting introverts

[thusspoketrish]

New Chapter | The Art of Getting By

Chapter 11: All I'm Left With is an Aftertaste

Excerpt:

Harry lingers near the door for a moment, his hands awkwardly clasped in front of him. His anxiety seems to fill the room, settling over Draco’s skin like the eerie, numbing sensation of pins and needles. He runs his hands through his dishevelled hair and adjusts his glasses, which have slid down the bridge of his endearing, slightly crooked nose. With a deep breath, he finally strides forward and sits down in the chair next to Draco, turning to face him. He opens his mouth, pauses, and then promptly closes it. His brows furrow as he appears to struggle in search of the right words. “I’m sorry,” Harry finally whispers, his voice paper thin, barely holding together, and fraying at the edges. “I was–I was unreasonable and cruel earlier. I’m–I’m sorry for everything, everything that keeps happening, everything I keep doing. I know I’ve been bloody awful. I can’t help it when I feel like I–when I—” He falters, guilt and fear painting his flushed face before it crumples. His brows draw tight, lips quivering as his eyes squeeze shut for a heartbeat, a tremor passing through his features as though he’s about to break—tears, pain, grief, brimming beneath the surface. But then, as if by sheer force of will, his face smooths over. His hands betray him as he nervously wrings them together in his lap, as if he’s unable to truly hide the monstrosity of complex feelings churning inside of him. Draco stares at him, wide-eyed, shock rooting him to the spot as he feels the blood drain from his face.

Read The Art of Getting By on AO3, here.

Please mind the tags and warnings for this story.

_________________

I need to give another shoutout to my glorious beta, @youknowyoudid for the phenomenal work she's been doing in triple checking over these chapters again before posting!!! Thank you!!! x

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Image Text:

The Art of Getting By

All I'm Left With is an Aftertaste

Written by Trishjames and Edited by YouKnowYouDid

_________________

Chapter 11 Playlist:

Mystic Tea Party: Aftertaste

Asal: Headache

Portishead: Only You

Joji: Ew

Eartheater & Sega Bodega: Fade Into You

[anachronistic-falsehood]

"would you rather [i have] a mom or a dad?" ".......... if i had to choose between the two it would be a dad OKAY LET'S GO--" FITMC GAY??? 🤨📸🏳️‍🌈

[joyffree]

Stick Lessons an MM College Romance by Crea Reitan is Live!

Everyone should learn how to handle a stick.

Atty High school sweethearts, dream wedding, exotic honeymoon, white picket fence, two and a half kids… that’s the dream. My prescribed future. Except, I don’t want any of that. When me and my on/off girlfriend of fifteen years finally call it quits for good, I decide that I’m ready for a new beginning.

I didn’t expect that new beginning to be a dude.

Toby This man is perfect… he obeys like a marionette, lets me bend him and choke him until my heart's content. He lets me dress him up, breed him, and refuse his pleasure as if he were built specifically for my needs.

But Atty isn’t who I thought he was and he’s struggling to find his new identity while I’m freefalling for him off the face of a cliff. I’m not used to needing a safety net in life so there’s a very real chance I’m going to hit the ground like a pancake.

Is love always this tragic?

[housewifebuck]

Send me more queer book recs please

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

i wrote like four and a half pages of a new fic tonight