#seagull celebrations

[charles-leclerc-official]

Charles in his 1989 era

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Fate’s Games (Love’s Wrecks, Part 1.)

Description: Heartbreak is one hell of a bitch. And one Edward Teach could tell you all about it. Yet thanks to Fate being a little trickster, there’s a person who enters his life to remind him of how nice it is of having someone he can confide in, someone he can care about, and someone he can trust. To remind him, what it means to have a friend for better or worse.  

Part Summary: Finding yourself somewhere in the ocean after a naval battle is not very fun. It kinda sucks, to be honest. To your luck, Fate is about to play one of its many games, giving you a chance to be saved from this misery.

Word counter: 5.3 K

A/N: To explain the first few paragraphs (cause I got weirdly passionate about Fate and all that stuff), I envisioned Fate as this creature sitting somewhere in the heavens, between the clouds, in over-the-top antique dramatic attire as they giggle about changing up people’s lives, seeing as they fall in love, discover happiness or overcome hardships (along with the blush and lip bite). Kinda like Keiynan Londsdale going through the photos in Kiss the Boy.

Tagging: @missdictatorme​, @soliyra-the-sunbringer

Series master list:  h e r e   | Series play list:  h e r e

Fate. Destiny. Predestination. Chance. Coincidence. Call it however you want, it is in mankind's nature to believe that there's some higher power watching over each step they oh, so carefully take. And if the power in question doesn't lead your steps now, it had already led you to the place you were supposed to find yourself; it was with you all the way, never really leaving you out of its sight. The power had already put obstacles in your way, it made you surpass those obstacles, and it made you stronger. With that, it is often said that history's biggest figures were born to be special, whether you're talking about history's most significant leaders, inventors, or those, who found themselves on the dark side of history; the most feared, those who brought endless terror to the world. It is often said about these people - they got it handed in their cards and they were chosen to be extraordinary, to be more, to achieve more. Whichever of those things mentioned above had led them to go down in history, there must've been something. It had to be fate. It had to be destiny, right? Right?

Yet, what if were to tell you that this isn't the case? That everything of this is decided in the spur of the moment by a heavenly creature watching mankind from above, giggling about the mischief and havoc it's causing. And Fate watches over all of its sheep equally, watching them bump into an obstacle just to feel the happiness when the person overcomes it. It is never given to the people in their cards - their significance is decided on the spot. In the end, everything that has the power to change one's life happens coincidentally, and yet, it is meant to happen. Sometimes all it takes is one defining action that needs to happen, yet Fate doesn't always want to be so straightforward. See, Fate is a very tricky creature that adores messing around with mankind, just as it loves mankind itself. It loves turning people's lives upside down to test them. It likes to get tricky, weird, and sticky, it likes to be slow and delicate to ensure that the individual will be ready for what's in store for them. This might be viewed as straight torture at times, but Fate knows that time heals all wounds. The power knows that its little ones will be alright in case they fail... One day, sooner or later. It's also aware that its sheep won't give up easily. They are strong. They aren't quitters. They are human, after all.

But there are times when Fate wants to get husky, pushing it to the limit; it climbs under people's skin, making them fight and, or, suffer. Times when even Fate stops itself to watch the mess and the catastrophe it had created. Each time it happens, Fate lets out a long breath, closes its eyes, and swears, watching its sheep devastated. What usually causes these husky, unhappy moments? When it all goes off the rails? It's called love; one of the purest, deepest forms of adoration and utter respect. It happens when people meet other people. When they fall in love. And... When they hit the obstacle mentioned before. Some can overcome it, together, making Fate cheer for them before moving on; but some people don't overcome it. People who crumble under the pressure, then fall into a deep hole of hatred and rage. The view of people in such despair, on the verge of an absolute breakdown, was always enough to tear Fate's heart in halves, making its stomach shrink.

The night our story starts, Fate was watching one of the many disastrous endgames to its games. It was sitting with its knees pushed under its chin as it watched one Edward Teach screaming into nothingness. The ocean was stormy, the ship was rocking on the waves violently; Edward climbed up the ragging, he was holding ropes in his palms so firmly that the skin on his palms was starting to burn. He was suffering. His scream was terrifying, coming out of the depths of his torso. The scream itself was full of heartbreak, pain, and anger... And Edward was trying to let it all out, to forget for a second. Mumbling a curse under its breath, Fate looked away into the distance. As it slipped its eyes in a different direction, it looked at flagships shooting at each other.

The naval fight was also horrifying to watch - the smell of gunpowder was in the air, leaving clouds of dark smoke after each explosion. Parts and sides of both the ships were torn to absolute shreds, the wood was broken to pieces, leaving hefty chips everywhere. Flags were torn apart, drenched in blood, ocean water, and rain. Dead bodies were laying on both the decks, floating in the waters surrounding the ship as the fight was slowly dying down. The chaos and debris were unmissable. Fatealready knew that almost none of the people are going to survive this bloodshed... Except... As a smile appeared on its lips, and as its eyes jumped back and forth between Edward and the debris, it had an idea. All it needed was a bit of creativity. And so, Fate sank its finger into the ocean water, changing the currents a bit, watching Edward's ship turning in the direction of the dying naval fight. The enormous machine understood as fate was put into motion once more, leaving Fate itself smiling gently.

____________________

There was not a single sharp sound you’d be able to hear after two hours of listening to explosions, cannons going off, and the crashing of the ocean carrying most of the remnants away. Your eardrums were busted as if you weren’t to hear another sound ever again. And still, that wasn’t the worst thing going on. You’ve been clinging to a floating mast of one of the flagships for more than an hour at that point, feeling your body coldening more and more with each passing second. You’ve been shivering uncontrollably, let alone the comfort of feeling any of your fingers; some of which were so freaking cold that they started to change colors. The ability to control your limbs seemed like a distant memory. Your dress was torn apart in many places from the time you tried to run away, to help your madame escape the fight... That was when the fight just started.

Going back to the memories of it, you felt a strange jolt of cold traveling down your spine. Bullets were flying past your heads, just as cannonballs were, making holes into the delicate wood and destroying everything in their way; making the chips of wood fly past as well. There wasn't a single understandable world to recognize in the cluster of curses and screams, there wasn't much to be seen through the black, weighty smoke. As you tried to help the poor woman, leading her to safety through the corridors, you’ve got pretty scrapped yourself - and watching her ending up with a bullet in her temple made you horrified, screaming. From that point, you’ve been alone, praying to whoever was watching over you. You prayed to them to let you live, to let you get out of that mess. At first, it almost seemed plausible - you found yourself in a dark corner of one of the storages, hiding behind barrels full of food and various goods. As you sat there, mumbling all the prayers you remember from Sunday school, you could feel the body of the flagship being shot again. The cannonball flew through a wooden wall located very close to you; so close that your eardrums simply gave up for a second. And this time, you’ve barely escaped. Hitting the back of the ship, the cannonball made the wood crumble under you, making you slip into the cold ocean water.

An hour later, there you were - clinging onto a piece of one of the masts, watching the naval fight finally dying out. Those who could save themselves did exactly that - they hopped into emergency boats, paddling and skedaddling the hell out of there. No wonder there. If you'd ever were to describe the events of the night, you'd start by saying that the night is full of terror. Even though you couldn't hear anything properly, your brain memorized the screams of the dying and the sound of a bullet hitting the temple of your madame's head. The intense rain was settling down the black smoke, letting you see all of the destruction with your eyes. It was hard to believe that you were sailing on one of those ships just two hours ago - both wrecks barely resembled ships now, barely staying afloat. Everything happened so suddenly, out of the blue. When the first warning shots came, it was already too late for you and your crew… And their crew for that matter.

Two hours ago, you’ve been still employed by a posh lady who asked you to sail with her and her husband; well she didn’t exactly ask you nicely about joining them, but she was nice enough to tell you without unnecessary yelling. Madame often told you that you were her favorite out of all the servants her family had; and since she even let you get basic education, it seemed very plausible that she was telling truth. They were taking good care of you. Fed you well, made sure your clothes were presentable enough for their status, and sometimes even gave you a bit more money. That happened rather rarely, but it was still nice of them. Two hours ago, you had a good job, a so-so life, a kind employer and you were on your way to visit your madame's sister in St. Augustine. Now? What did you have now? Head almost exploding from pain, no capability of hearing, torn dress, surely a cold, and nothing to live for... And that was just in case you'd be able to get out of this pickle.

What was the pickle you found yourself in, you ask? It was the fact that you've been trapped in the middle of nowhere with two wrecks, with most of the supplies blown up or sunk. Sure, you'd be able to get back onto the ship, probably, and find a bit of food there - but what would you do next? What the fuck would you do? You doubted that any other ship will be sailing through that exact spot anytime soon - so you'd either die of starvation, dehydration or you'd go insane. On the other hand... Letting go seemed easy. Almost too easy.

Just as you internally debated whether you'll let go or if you should still hold the mast, your eyelids got heavier, letting you fall asleep - your last thought was a prayer as well. You either prayed to God for letting you survive through this shit or for the death to be swift and painless. And to be frank, you didn't give a damn about which one God chooses for you.   It was hard to say how long did you float there; was it mere minutes, hours? Less than five hours? You couldn't tell. The night was still dark, the stars were perfectly visible and the air was cold - all you knew was that it was rumbling in the distance waking you up, searching for the danger around you.

Looking around with your eyelids sleepily winking, you realized that you're even more fucked than before - now, your ears might've been functional and the storm has stopped, but the salty water all over your scratches and wounds was true hell. On the other hand, the pain of it let your body make some adrenaline, giving you another bit of will to live and also waking you up quicker. Searching for what had woken you up, you tried to swing your leg over the mast to sit on it - which worked out... Except for the part where you completely tore the skirt off your dress. Sitting on the mast in your undergarments illuminating through the darkness, you furrowed and watched another ship anchor next to one of the wrecks. The revelation made your breath hitch in your throat. Watching the ship, you were on the verge of crying. You prayed for mercy and God heard you.

Fuck. You were lucky. So fucking lucky. Holy shit. You watched the ship longingly, digging your nails into the piece of wood. Your eyes were widening, your heart was slowly starting to beat faster, allowing you to gain control of your limbs once more. This was your only chance of surviving. You didn't stop yourself to think about who were those people, you just wanted to get out of there. The ship was enormous - there were three masts with white sails, the wood was brightly yellow in contrast to the dark black, and there were lanterns lit up all over the deck. It had an impressive amount of cannons that were seemingly ready for any inconvenience... And its gallium figure seemed to be gone, shot off. Honestly, even a fucking idiot would've guessed that it was a pirate ship. Anything from the funny-looking crew climbing the ladder down, the missing gallium figure, and hoisted color was enough to recognize said sort of people. Too bad it was the middle of the night and you couldn't see what kind of color it was. Knowing it's pirates you'd about to yell at, asking them for help, you'd think twice about what you were about to do.

The crew was paddling on two small boats to the wrecks to scavage for anything useful. And yet, with the corner of your eye, you saw that one man remained on board. He standing at the stern, watching over them. The captain, you figured. There surely was a lot of useful stuff around - including you. You were useful stuff. You'd gladly work for the gentlemen, making sure that you'd work your debt before ever leaving the ship. It was hard to tell for how long had you sat on top of the mast, watching the man from afar, listening to their voices.

They were slow and careful not to miss any loot on their way, so you had to be patient. You didn't want to startle them too much since you could easily end up with a bullet in your head - you promised yourself you'd call out to them once it will be convenient. As you were preparing yourself to do so, seeing the dim light of their lanterns shining just above you, you found yourself to be startled. Something suddenly touched your shoulder, making you scream into the deep, dark night. As the sound escaped your mouth, you quickly covered your lips with your palms, searching for what could've scared you so much. It was... A seagull. A seagull that had landed right in front of you, starting at you cockily. What... In the name of God... Was a fucking seagull doing there in the middle of the night? There was not much time for questions - the men halted as you tried to calm down. The seagull stared at you - when you realized and looked back at it, it rose its head towards the men. Was the bird there with them? Pointing your finger in their direction, you furrowed - and at the moment, you thought you were shitting yourself, the bird nodded. With that, you were ready to pass out.

"I-I think it's a mermaid, mate." - Said one of the male voices. The person was clearly scared, freaking out. You weren't wondering why - he heard a woman screaming at the top of her lungs in the middle of the night, without knowing about the said woman. - "We should go, leave this hellish place. She'll grab ya hand and will pull you into the sea! And then she'll eat ya alive! Bit by bit. And she'll start with the limbs so you'd stay conscious the entire time, mate, I tell ya." "Nonsense! You're a pirate Buttons, learn your myths. Sirens pull you down into the sea, not mermaids. I think we bumped into a survivor, perhaps." - Another man replied, pushing his arm with the lantern out of the hole in the stern. Three men were suddenly staring down at you - one of them was chubby with a red hat, another one was lean and tall with dark curly hair and the third one was the thinnest, with long hair, a beard, and an expression of an absolute crackhead - Buttons, you assumed.

Usually, you'd be worried when it came to addressing people like this... But, dear God, you were glad to see them. The crackhead noticed you first - thanks to the white seagull standing right in front of you. He rose one of his boney fingers, pointing right at you. "There she is! The demon!" - Buttons yelled out. - "Oh, shush." - The chubby one said, rolling his eyes as he kneeled, trying to spot you - it was fairly easy thanks to the white undergone. As if the bird knew that you were in safe hands, it flew towards the men, landing on Button's shoulder rather elegantly. Ah, you let out a snort, so that was why it seemingly understood when you pointed at the men. Seeing this explained a lot.

"Oi, miss!" - One of the men said, waving in your direction. Smiling happily, you waved back at the trio. - "Are you alright?!" "Good evening, gentlemen!" - You called back at them, laughing and crying as the happiness overwhelmed you for a moment.  - "Give or take, no limbs missing... Yet! Would you mind helping me out of this pickle, pretty please?"

And as you asked, so the men did. Buttons refused to touch you or even look your way; did the guy really think you were a siren? He surely did, because as soon as they pulled you up, using a lot of ropes and heavy lifting, you watched Buttons leaving you with his friends. There was no time to sit around, though; you were freezing to death. As soon as you could, you walked through the ship, searching for any kind of dry cloth to cover yourself in. And when you finally did, you sat down on the remnants of stairs, looking at the men in front of you. They seemed nice and kind, with good manners. They pulled you out, in the end, didn't they?

"Thank you a lot, really. It means so much to me... Without your help, I would've either drowned or lost my mind. My name's Y/N... And yours?" - There was a sweet smile lighting up your entire face as soon as you raised your hand for the man to shake it; showing even more gentlemancy, the lean man turned it around and kissed your knuckles, which made you hum appreciatively . -“You can call me Frenchie, miss.” - The lean one said, giving your palm to the chubby man. This one sent you a quick, almost shy smile. - “And my name is Olu.” “You have some great manners, wouldn’t expect as much from sailors... Hell, that was rude of me, excuse my manners. What kind of business is your ship attending to? Is it a merchant ship?” - At that question, both men stared at you, unsure as to why they should say. As said before, even a fucking idiot would see that these two were clearly pirates - they didn't have any sort of a uniform, no formal clothes merchants would wear... Nothing. How comes you didn't connect the dots yet? Both men felt themselves getting more and more nervous with each passing second. Olu was to answer first. What you couldn't know what the fact that they assumed you were a lady in distress. Technically, you were one, but they thought you were a posh one.

“Eh, you see, that’s not very easy to explain…” - Olu blurted out. His skin was glistering with sweat, his eyes widened, and his lips parted. You didn’t understand why that was, to be honest (the question wasn't that weird), but you didn't comment on it. Frenchie decided to step in with his formal tone, almost bowing in front of you as if he didn’t want to offend you. Realizing they assumed you were posh, even though you've been clearly dressed in a servant's gown, running around in your undergarments, you sighed. Oh, dear. - “It’s not a difficult question, lady, the question is whether you’d like the answer or not." "And what in hell are you, then? Ghosts bound to sail the seas until the end of the world, just like the Flying Dutchman? Are you privateers? Pirates, even?" - You asked jokingly, but seeing their smiles freeze made you whistle and raise your eyebrows as you looked aside.

Were they trying to joke around, or were they serious? You'd never expect pirates to have... Manners of any sort. The profession was quite popular at that time and frankly, you only heard stories of the brutes, the violent abusers, and thieves. In your book, a pirate was a loud, violent individual carrying many guns; someone who'd never kissed your knuckles or addressed you 'miss' or 'lady'. They also weren't as damp, yucky, smelly, and messy as you'd tend to imagine them. They, in fact, looked quite nice. Was this what real pirates looked like? Yes - Olu, Frenchie, and Buttons might've been stealing (technically, salvaging) the remnants of your ship, but they didn't seem to be the aggressive folk you heard stories about. Nodding to yourself, you exhaled and looked back at them. - "Oh... Shit. Okay. I see, interesting."

"Please, don't yell, and don't freak out." - Olu, the chubby man with the warm gaze of a puppy, tried to soothe you down as you stared back at him. The man even patted your shoulder carefully. - "Yea, lady, it's not as bad as you think, whatever you heard about pirates." - "We don't do anything nasty to women, we wouldn't... We don't." - "That's right. We even have... Eh, had one on board and we didn't sink... Yet. Jim is the coolest person in the world, you'd like them!" - "And we aren't that violent or gross." - "Yes, we are keen on personal hygiene... To one degree or another." - "Our former captain helped us contain our anger." - "A lot of therapeutic activities, he called it." - "And... Wait. What's the deal?" The entire time, you've been sitting below them, watching them talking frantically. As they went on, a smile appeared on your face again until you burst out laughing. The longer they both went on, the bigger the smile was and in the end, the laughter was a wholehearted one. - "Nothing. As I said, it's a pleasure to meet you, both of you. Pirates, wow, look at you. I'd never had guessed. Is the rest of the crew like you or are you two the only hygienic and calm pirates on the ship?"

"Everyone on board is pretty much like us, I'd say. These guys are like family." - Frenchie answered, scratching the back of his head. Talking about the rest of the crew, he remembered that Izzy assigned them to find as many useful supplies as possible. Instead of that, they found a woman - which meant another stomach to feed. And it also reminded him of Izzy himself. - "There is one asshole among us, though. He's pretty nutty, let me tell you that much." "Oh, he's a slimy bastard. Reminds me of a rat." - Olu joined in, shaking his head with disgust. "If it wouldn't be for him sticking his boney fingers into everyone's business, if Izzy didn't do what he did and then said what he said, Ed...I mean, our captain would be talking to us. Probably." "What happened to your captain and what Izzy did to him?" - As you listened to their story, you were becoming intrigued. A crew of gentlemen pirates, who would've thought? It almost sounded like a very sick joke. You've never heard of such a thing, but it sounded fun. Olu was the first to answer your question once more.

"That is a pretty personal story." "Yea, we don't wanna tell you 'cause we still respect him even after what he did to us... And all that dramatic, theatrical shit he has been doing for the past few weeks." - Saying that Frenchie sat down next to you - he knew that this conversation won't be ending anytime soon. And to be fair, he didn't want to leave you there; alone at a shipwreck yard. They could come up with a story, something to shut Izzy up, something that would allow you to sail with them without Blackbeard necessarily having to know... Until you'd be able to disembark somewhere on land. You seemed quite nice, to be honest - Frenchie liked you. You were very pretty in his eyes, your lips seemed soft and warm and your eyes had some kind of spark in them. On top of that, you seemed to be a posh lady; maybe they'd be able to make a Stede replacement out of you. You could read them bedtime stories, have arts and crafts with them, maybe you could even... Nevermind.

"What has he done to you? This story is becoming pretty damn intricate, wow." - Your voice was what made Frenchie come back to reality. Looking at the horizon, it was begging to glow with dim, golden light and the stars were disappearing slowly. The night was ending - the night of incredible terror was finally over. Before answering, Frenchie spared Olu a quick look; at which Olu raised his eyebrows. - "He left us on a small island in the middle of nowhere... After we prepared a talent show for him. Would you believe that? Who in their right mind would dismiss a talent show? We spent hours thinking about it and rehearsing it and..." "You kinda forgot the part where he attempted to drown Lucius, Frenchie." - Olu reminded his friend, making Frenchie sigh. Alright, this finally resembled the pirate stories you heard and read. This finally remebled the violence, carelessness, and brutality.

Who the fuck was their captain? Why would he... Abandon his entire crew on an island? And who was Lucius and why would he attempt to drown the man? Furrowing, you continued on what Frenchie had to say. - "Oh, right, right. Poor Lucius, the lucky bastard, was blessed that Buttons was preparing for his moonlight ritual swim; he threw Lucius a rope and helped him back up... We have to hide him in the below deck ever since that happened, poor boy. I think the captain would've murdered him right in front of our eyes if he got to know he's alive. So far, he didn't sus anything." "And... Wow. That's something. If he's this ruthless, why did he come back for... The rest of you?" - You wondered, looking at both men. They seemed nice, but their captain... Yuck. A barbarian at his best, you'd guess. "Oh, he realized that he needs someone Izzy would chide, honestly. Izzy can be quite annoying, especially when he tries to climb up the captain's ass. Also, the ship isn't small at all, it needs more men than what he had on board." "Hm, I see. I see..." - The stories about their captain were interesting... To say the least. The 'Ed' man, whoever he was, didn't sound like a person you'd like to be around. The question was - was he a natural-born prick, or did something change him? - "And... Is he a good captain? I mean, before everything that happened, was he a good one?"

Both men looked at each other, not really knowing what to say. They missed the jolly, funny Blackbeard who was a respectable and wise captain. They missed the days of Edward actually putting effort into spending time with his crew, eating with them, laughing at their jokes and little vices. Nowadays, they barely knew what Ed looked like - people who were called into his quarters usually came back so stressed that they barely recalled what happened. - "He was the best fucking captain ever. Back when he was co-captaining... They were..." - Frenchie got lost in his thoughts before clearing his throat, looking you in the face. - "Listen, we can tell you later. Now we need to figure out how to get you out of here, miss Y/N." "I suppose the captain wouldn't be thrilled with having me on board as is, huh?" - Both the men said a quiet no. Nodding and acknowledging that fact, your palms gently patted your knees as your brain started to imagine various scenarios. - "We need a cover-up story. Something good but not too crazy, something believable." - And with that, all of you brainstormed for a bit, trying to figure it out.

"What about... Lady Y/N being our new scriber? He thinks Lucius is dead. Can you write, count, and read miss?" - Olu snapped his finger in your direction. At that, you nodded passionately. But Frenchie didn't sympathize with this idea. "No, that wouldn't work, I think. Good idea, but Ed isn't Stede; he doesn't want his life turned into a multi-volumed romantic novel." - Frenchie opposed dismissively. "Then, she can have other uses. She can sew our clothes back together... Help Roach with cooking, hm?" - At everything Olu said, you nodded in agreement; you'd do literally anything for some food and help with getting back on land. Whether you'd have to sew dirty, smelly socks or cook until your palms would be full of calluses, you'd be down to do it. - "Again, great ideas, but the guys wouldn't be too happy about it, I think. Roach doesn't allow anyone in his kitchen, sewing clothes is Wee John's thing and the rest is doing manual labor. Also, you know how anxious John gets sometimes and this is the only thing that calms him down and..."

"Wait." - Frenchie stopped when you snapped your fingers. The lightbulb inside your head started to shine as an idea came to your mind. It wasn't a nice idea, it was pretty risky to be fair, but it could be enough to shut Izzy and the captain up. It was one of the most ridiculous things you ever came up with, tho. It was insane, it was, morally ambiguous, weird, and gross. If it wouldn't be a cover-up story, you'd most probably never suggest They could gain some gold, the amount was pretty much dependent on how faithfully would you play that role. it.

"We can... We can tell Izzy and the captain that you'll get a good amount of money if they'd like to... Sell me off. To slavery." - Saying those words out loud, your breath hitched and your throat swelled; promising some strange men that you'll let them sell you into slavery. That was insanity. But it was probably your only chance. And both men, realizing it, watched you shuffling uncomfortably. - "I mean, you two think I'm some kind of a posh lady, don't you? If none of us tells him I'm nothing more than a servant, the captain can think that it could be the case. I've worked as a servant for a pretty long time, my madame thought me a few tricks here and there. And I can put on an accent." "You're... A servant? Are you sure?" - Frenchie asked with confusion. That would've never crossed his mind, to be honest - your skin seemed to be flawless and smooth to touch, just like the ladies in the portraits. As he mentioned, you were very pretty, clearly clever enough to master the trifecta of elemental knowledge and on top of it, you talked like one of them. But with a small smile, you nodded.

"I'm pretty freaking positive I'm a servant, Frenchie. The captain wouldn't have to know. Someone sure as hell would pay a ton of money just to have the option of seeing an English noblewoman suffer... Would they not? From what I've gathered, most people hate the English out here." "They sure as hell would pay a lot of money for that..." - Frenchie mumbled, still mesmerized by what he just learned about you. But with that, the plan was set in motion - walking over to their small boat (where Buttons had been already sitting with his trusty seagull) full of various valuables, you talked about the details.

[midnightstrack04]

1989 💙 🦅

[ur-mag]

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[austinbutlerslovers]

Mr. Butlers Babysitter

Label mature 18+

Summary

When you began working as a babysitter for Mr. Butler you were immediately taken by his wonderful children and his beautiful Malibu estate, he also paid handsomely. Having worked for celebrities on a referral based system you prided yourself on being professional and discreet for his family.

With Mr. Butler recently divorced having you help him with the children during their weekend visits from their mother was a godsend. After two months his daughter and son adored you to pieces never wanting you to leave. It seemed like a perfect fit.

One fateful evening Mr. Butler puts you in a highly compromising position. One that could ruin your reputation and your livelihood if word got out. You have two choices: Be exploited never to work in the inner circle as a high status celebrity babysitter again. or go along with his perverted plans.

🚨 Depraved Smut 🚨

corruption kink•dubcon•manipulation• humiliation• degradation •naivety •drug use•alchohol use•edging• fingering•coercive sex•condom use•orgasms•yandere

🫦co-writer/smut consultant @burnthheparaphilia

💝Not for my softies: Very corrupt perverted manipulative Austin

My first corruption smut 😭 no idea what I’m doing but was told I would be good at it. This one was pushed to the front of the request due to incessant demand.

There was a HUGE glitch for the delay I could not post it with the ask ☹️ it crashed so many times so I included them here

Mr. Butlers Babysitter

You were an excellent employee working for Mr. Butler as a babysitter of his two wonderful children. Though he preferred you call him Austin after working two months you still called him Mr. Butler to maintain the professionalism. He was a very famous actor in the early 2020’s. Now in his late thirties he was a full time producer.

He has a beautiful seven bedroom Malibu estate with every luxury perk you could think of. You enjoyed the cliffside drive seeing the ocean on your way to work there.

You would roll down the window and stick your hand out, feeling the ocean breeze hearing the seagulls as the waves crashed against the cliff walls.

You adored his two children Alisa and Daniel. Alisa was 8 years old and full of confidence. She was book smart and excelled in school never once asking for help with of her homework.

His son Daniel was 5 years old, always in imagination land. He was a very picky eater and sometimes you would have to pretend his favorite toy dinosaur would eat his food if he didn’t.

On this evening you and Austin were preparing pizza for the kids in his massive kitchen. He had his own personal brick oven designed to fit the space.

You grated mozzarella as he ladled the tomato sauce. As you sprinkled the cheese on the pizza dough your hands touched.

He smiled at you and replaced the ladle into the tomato sauce before standing behind you and placing his hands on yours showing you exactly how to spread it.

He instructs you gently speaking over your right shoulder “You know how Daniel is with his texture sensitivities if this cheese melts clumped together he won’t eat it” you giggle you totally understand. He slowly releases your hands and watches you work. He gives you a touch of approval on your shoulder before he gets back to ladling the sauce.

There was always a tension in the back of your mind with him. He was very attractive on an unnatural level.

His sandy blonde hair was always maintained in soft waves. His blue eyes had a depth and sincerity that if you stared too long you felt what it meant to get lost.

His jawline and face shape were squared and masculine and his plump lips accentuated his perfectly shaped nose. He was extremely handsome and though he was older he looked and acted so much younger.

Though you found him attractive you had set goals in mind: make money and advance your life. That kept you adamant to remain professional and you also felt so safe and highly valued working for him.

He paid you handsomely, had wonderful children and a beautiful home. You would never ruin this opportunity.

The four of you sat in the back yard that night to watch one of Mr. Butler favorite child hood movies. ‘The Good the Bad and the Ugly.’ It had become routine on Sunday to have movie night before the kids returned to their mothers for the week.

On the enormous hillside yard of his Malibu estate he had a large movie screen and a projector constructed. You all sat under a gazebo enjoying the warm breeze on a plush couch bed with a fire pit infront of it.

Beyond the movie screen you could see the twinkling lights of the city. You rested your head back enjoying the space, he had a very lovely home.

The kids grew restless after only 20 minutes of the slow paced movie but you were able to retrain their attention by asking them questions. “Is that cowboy a good one or a bad one?” you ask as Lee Van Cleefs scowling face took over the screen.

“A bad one!” Alisa yells quickly before her brother answers to prove how smart she is. Daniel’s little face saddens into a pout feeling like he lost. ”I think you’re right Alisa…” you say valuing her effort actually unsure which is the bad one.

You put your hand on Daniel’s little back and comfort him “Daniel look your turn is next! Is that cowboy a good cowboy or an ugly cowboy?” He studies Clint Eastwoods stern face “He looks like a mad cowboy ” he says with his cute voice growling and tiny teeth bared. You and Austin laugh at his adorableness.

“He does looks like a mad cowboy” Austin says assuring him. “Come here little guy sit on daddy’s lap” he motions for Daniel to come and easily picks him up “ah there we go” He says holding Daniel forward facing to watch the movie. He runs his hands through his son’s sandy blonde locks they look almost identical.

“Do you want to do nails? “ Alisa asks you excitedly out of the blue practically bouncing next to you on the couch bed. “Sure if it’s okay with your dad I know it’s getting late“ you admit checking your phone.

She looks to her dad “Plea-a-a-se can I go get my nail kit daddy!“ she pouts with her hands in a prayer. He can’t resist her. “You can get it but you have to be done in less than thirty minutes it’s almost your bed time” he say firmly.

Alisa squeals and you watch as she runs into the house.

Austin’s thumb caresses your shoulder to get your attention. “Look he’s out” he says pointing at little Daniel comfortably resting back in his arms. “Aw look at his little cute face, do you want me to take him up?” You ask gently to be helpful.

He motions his head “No you girls do nails and I’ll sit with him to watch the movie” you agree to the idea just as Alisa comes bounding out of the house with a hot pink nail box kit. She slams it on the flat stone edge of the fire pit.

Austin puts his finger to his lips with a stern face shushing her because Daniel is sleeping. “Sorry daddy” she says to him softly “ I got it “ she says out of breath holding up the kit to you.

She puts the plastic box of nail supplies on the couch bed next to you and pops it open. Pulling out a bottle of hot pink polish “Do my nails this color” she says demandingly but she’s a kid. “If you say please” you sweetly correct her “Please do my nails this color!” She asks with an impatience rising in her voice. You smile and extend your palm to her.

She places her small hand in yours as you brush the color on each of her nails. “and the stickers!” She says pulling out a roll.

You place a sticker of her choice on each nail. She looks them over excitedly “Do you like them?” You ask to make sure she’s a happy client. She jumps up and hugs you tightly around your neck.

The squeeze shocks you and you pat her shoulder tenderly to calm her “Okay honey I’m glad you like them “ you say pretending to sounds like you are being choked and it makes her giggle.

Austin realizes he was so invested in your encounter he wasn’t watching his movie and it’s already been more than thirty minutes. “Okay it’s definitely time to head up” he says carrying a sleeping Daniel as he clicks off all the electronics.

Alisa gathers her nail kit and holds your hand. You all head up stairs to put them in their rooms. Austin heads down the hall to Daniel’s and you head to Alisas.

She does everything on her own in her fully custom princess room. She brushes her teeth, washes, her face and puts on her pajamas before climbing into her canopy bed.

You click on her unicorn night light and click off the main room light ready to head out . “Can you talk to me until I fall asleep” she asks in her soft voice.

It’s a big request because you have classes in the morning and you are tired but you want to bond with her so you pull up a child size hot pink princess throne and sit next to her bed.

“What do you want to talk about hun?” You ask holding her smaller hand in yours and tracing your thumb over her freshly painted hot pink nails.

“Youre not going to leave are you?” She asks with her timid voice. You reassure her “I am going to go to my apartment and then I’ll come back and see you next weekend when your back from your moms” you smile warmly as you tuck a stray hair behind her ear.

Her face suddenly saddens “mommy wants you to make you go away” her eyes brim with tears and her lip pouts as it quivers.

“Aw honey“ you say as you pick her out of bed and place her on your lap. You pet her sandy brown hair and shush her. She begins sobbing against your chest. You pull her face back to look in her eyes. Her face is bright red with tears streaming by this point.

“Alisa honey …aw honey… sometimes people say things they don’t mean.” You wipe her tears. ”You know maybe your mommy is angry because I’m new in your life and she wants to make sure that I’m taking the very best care of you” you pinch her small chin. She still has a sad look in her eyes but she has stopped crying and is now sniffling.

“Mommy is mad because in daddy’s phone she found pictures of you.” she says through her sniffles as she finally starts calming down.

“What kind of pictures“ you ask patting her shoulders comfortingly“

“Like pictures when you bend over?” she admits not sure what it means.

Your face goes bright red not expecting her to say that “Well yes that’s ..um that’s not appropriate how did you find this out sweety ?”You ask out of pure curiosity. “I heard mommy talking to her boyfriend that daddy is a per-vert he takes lots of pictures when you bend over. What is a per-vert?” She asks with an innocent curiosity not knowing the word.

You sigh gaining more information than you ever wanted to know. “How about I tell you a bed time story?” You say to distract her and she nods smiling and snuggles in your arms. You begin to make up one about Princess Alisa and her hot pink unicorn that can fly to her castle in the clouds.

You are never one to pry into the affairs of your clients. You were a baby sitter for another celebrity couple, the Milanos, before his wife packed up and moved back to Italy with their triplets.

You received high recommendations from Mr. Milano to land the job with Mr. Butler due to your discretion and ability to always remain professional.

In the Milano mansion you witnessed several fights. Once Mr. Milano even backing out of his driveway drunk screaming at Mrs. Milano before he crashed into their courtyard fountain.

You took their sobbing triplets inside to avoid them having to watch their parents have another explosive outburst. You brought them to the their enormous playroom and turned on some kids follow along music until they were wiggling and dancing instead of crying.

A word about their issues never left your lips even when the paparazzi berated you with emails and bribes to be a source of information for the infamous impending Milano divorce splashed across every gossip site.

Even as you saw the exorbitant amounts being offered you knew your reputation would be diminished in the elite celebrity circle as a nanny and you’d be scrambling back to a form of lesser employment.

But as you cradled Alisa in your arms you realized this was a completely different scenario on top of the average celebrity family dramatics.

Your first divorced client may actually have a sexual interest in you.

As you finish your story you hold her close comforting her in silence. After a while her body begains to go slack. “I’m going to put you in bed now okay hun?” You say gently and she nods.

You place her in bed and pull her unicorn covers up to her chest. “Promise me you’ll come back”she asks in her sweet sleepy voice trying to keep her eyes open. You reassure her ”yes Alisa I’m coming back” you pet her hand. “Even if my daddy is a per-vert like mommy says?” she asks as your brows furrow at the complication.

“Alisa” Austin’s voice snaps from the doorway. You wonder how long he’s been there as you slightly panic. “You should’ve been asleep a long time ago now it’s very late and you have school in the morning next time I’m not going to let you stay up like this” he says sternly “I’m sorry daddy” Alisa says sleepily.

You interject “Mr. Butler… Austin, sorry it’s my fault the nails, the girl talk bed time story I guess we just got carried away.” You say smiling weakly looking at him with newfound eyes realizing he might have a little naughty photo collection of you in his phone.

He smiles to you “No you're fine I think she just gets really excited having you around I’m going to make sure she goes down. Just wait for me a minute downstairs.” He says as you cross paths. He sits on Alisa’s bedside as you leave the room.

You walk down the hall but slowly enough to listen in and pry. Their voices are muffled but you distinctly hear him in his softest sweetest voice ask her ”Now what were you silly girls talking about in here”

She loves her daddy you know she’s going to rat. You quickly make your way down the stairs through the living room and exit the front of the house.

You enter your car and hold the steering wheel wondering if he’s going to fire you now because his daughters spilled his little secret. “UGHhh!” You exclaim because he pays you four grand just to work weekends every month with the sweetest kids on the planet.

You’ve signed an NDA but that’s still an awkward topic to ignore especially being in close proximity with him, likely complications will arise. You’ll work for him one more weekend and ask him for a recommendation to another high status family.

You look up through the windshield to see Mr. Butler jogging out of his modern glass front estate down to your car. You roll down your window confused. “I thought you left” he says out of breath. “I told you to wait for me downstairs” he says as he reaches into his pocket. “For the overtime” he says handing you a small stack money. Your eyes light up as you accept it.

Counting through a thousand dollars you raise your brow as you look up at him. “Mr. Butler… there’s no way all of this is just for overtime.” He slicks his hand back through his hair looking around to other houses in the distance before he looks back to you with a grin “How about you come in tomorrow on your day off and you make it up to me” he says slyly.

You fold the stack in your hand and bring it to your purse. “Okay if that will make us even” you say matter of factly. He flashes you a charming smile “It’s a date then” he says stepping back from your car “And tomorrow call me Austin” he says as you pull out of the driveway of his estate.

You can’t quite put your finger on it but the whole interaction felt a little off. But maybe he was just nervous about what Alisa may have said to him.

If he needs your help with his sweet kids tomorrow you’re all for it. You turn up the music to play on your way home.

Make It Up to Me

The next day during your morning college course you receive a text from Austin. “Come by at 6:30pm house unlocked” you knit your brow in confusion. Usually you arrive at 10am to help with the kids then it dawns on you it’s a weekday his kids are in school and probably have extracurriculars after so you type in “okay”

After classes you go to the gym and work out for an hour of cardio. You like to stay fit as a baby sitter if a kid can out run you, your toast.

You take your usual Monday cycling class and leave covered in sweat. You shower and open your locker to realize because of the work schedule change you didn’t pack street clothing. You left your apartment wearing your work out gear. Now instead of heading home you’re driving to Malibu.

“Shit” you say finding only a clean pair of black yoga shorts and a sports bra in your locker. “great job “ you murmur to yourself “Wear the skimpiest out fit to your employers house after you find out he probably takes photos of your ass” you roll your eyes at your luck.

Your strait laced thoughts suddenly start to slip as you try to think of when he would take the inappropriate pictures.

There was a time he had you climb a ladder in his storage room to carry down hoolah hoops for the kids. Then proceeded to have you all compete in the living room to see who was the fastest.

You were of course and he readily filmed it as you laughed trying to keep the rhythm of your hips going. His kids had already dropped theirs to the floor and were fumbling and giggling so you stopped to help them.

There was another instance when he installed a boot camp playground for his son before his birthday. He wanted you to test it out with the kids. You guys balanced on beams climbed ropes and had to shimmy on your belly’s under ropes through a sand pit. The low angle he filmed as you crawled didn’t make sense then.

Once somehow Daniel’s nerf football was thrown up into his tree house and the ladder had not been repaired. The kids would be dropped off in an hour and Mr. Butler was adamant you retrieve Daniels nerf football.

He followed you to the yard down the hill to the garden infront of the large tree with the custom house built into its branches. He hoisted you up by cupping and pushing your ass to get you higher. You laughed at the embarrassing way you needed to be helped. You finally wiggled into the tree house, throwing the nerf foot ball down.

You sat on the ledge and Austin gestured you to jump down to him ”please catch me, I don’t have independent health coverage” you joked. “If I break your bones I’ll mend them come to me” he gestured.

You jumped off landing into his arms both falling back onto the grass. His pupils were huge as you stared down at him panting and smiling. You quickly stood up and offered him your hand.

You realize you will definitely have to keep your distance he’s already been trying you.

But you really need this job. It’s saving your life right now he is your highest paying client by far. Your bills are paid your gym membership is renewed and you actually have a savings account.

You begin to wonder if your next employer will treat you as well and pay as much. It’s highly doubtful

You know the kids will be there today and you can leave early with a made up excuse before they fall asleep. Even on weekends you can just plan to leave early every time and should be completely safe.

You search through your locker again trying to find anything to cover you from wearing just sports bra and shorts to his house. You find a zip up black long sleeve jacket to match.

But it’s all form fitting accentuating your ass by covering your top and leaving your legs exposed. You shake your head in annoyance, it will have to do. You don’t have time to head back to because you thrive on being punctual. You tie up your hair in a pony tail and leave the gym.

You drive the route to Mr. Butlers estate with the windows rolled down listing to music. You pull up to his place at around 6:30. You walk in to the grandios living room to find the estate empty. No Austin, no kids, no maid, not anyone.

You reach in your purse and take out your phone texting Mr. Butler. “Where is everyone?” It takes a moment but you see the little dots moving showing he’s typing back. “movie room”. You’ve never been down there before. To make sure it’s not a danger zone you text him back “kids with you?” You await his response there isn’t one.

After a moment he finds you in the living room and smiles as he sees you “It felt kind of weird texting you and were in the same house…” his voice trails off seeing what your wearing

You tug down your sleeve and clutch you purse closer to your body “Sorry it’s unprofessional of me I know but I’ve never been here during a weekday and I forgot to pack the extra clothing.“

He makes a hmm sound looking you over in amusement “You must work out a lot to have legs like that” he compliments and your face flushes. “Don’t be shy about it” he says grinning as he walks by you to the kitchen.

He’s wearing sweats and a black tee but youve always eyed he’s in very good shape himself. He pulls a bottle of wine tucking it under his arm and pulls two Reidel glasses out. “Come watch a movie with me” he says innocently. “Mr. Butler..I mean Austin, with all do respect I can’t.” He eyes you mischievously. “You believe everything an eight year old tells you?” Your face flushes Alisa totally ratted to her daddy.

He has a knowing smile that you return because how did Mr. Butlers ex-wife even have access to his phone?

Maybe Alisa’s mom had it wrong, sometimes moms exaggerate to their kids to villainize daddy. Austin seems very kind.

He motions you to join him and this time you follow him down the stairs to the movie room. He pushes open the doors with his back and it opens to a theater space with five rows of black custom movie couches, it’s a small amphitheater.

“Holy fuck” you say before covering you mouth cursing infront of a client. Your previous clients the Milanos movie theater fails in comparison to this.

Along the back wall he has framed posters of every movie he’s starred in. You begin walking along and inspecting each one.

He approaches you from behind and hands you a glass of wine. “Oh thank you … but I’m not allowed to drink, well I’m legally not allowed to drink until next year .” you smile shyly as your face flushes. The way he stares at you in disbelief makes you feel awkward “You’ve never even had a drink?” He asks lowering his tone.

You tuck your hair behind your ear feeling the heat rising to your face as you try to explain.

“Well I was always honor roll and very goal oriented, not much time for friends. Then I got accepted to a great college on a scholarship. My room and board is paid by it so I really only have time to do my course work, workout ,and come to your house Mr. Butler. From what I can see, drinking kind of makes people wild and crazy and dumb anyway it never really interested me.”

He smiles “Well maybe they are drinking hard liquor this is wine, it’s not instant like a shot, it takes a while to build in your system“

You pry more “if hard liquor makes you crazy, what does wine feel like?” You ask intrigued.

“Mmm like a really mellow mood, no more stress no more anxiety you can just be yourself.” He smiles.

You mull it over staring into the red liquid, thinking about how anxious you are waiting for his kids to get here already. Maybe just a glass. You lift it to sip and he gestures you not to.

“This is a nice bottle when you drink you have to cheers to something.” He proclaims.

“Oh..” you say not familiar with drinking customs. Your mind draws a blank. His eyes squint for a minute until he catches a thought “To a great working relationship” he says and it makes you smile and cheers him clinking glasses then taking a drink. He rests his glass down “You really are phenomenal the kids adore you by the way”. He admits.

You both look over at his Elvis movie poster you have been standing in front of. “You ever seen this?” He asks because of your age. “No I haven’t are you good in it?” He nearly snorts his wine as he takes a sip. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I almost won an Oscar” He exclaims profoundly. ”That’s what we’re gonna watch then” he says leaving you to set everything up in the theater.

He sits center mid row and you sit next to him on the black custom theater couch putting your purse on the table rest of your seat.

You wait as he finds the film in his catalogue with his universal remote then dims the lights. The theater is completely dark and silent.

He refills your wine glass as the credits start. It’s a very haunting Elvis melody. Followed by a montage of him dressed as Elvis. Finally you see him “Wow you look so different with black hair, you say but the theater has surround sound speakers.

He can’t quite hear you so he turns the volume down. You begin divulging too much feeling a bit dizzy ”Oh Mr. Butler no I don’t want to ruin the movie you don’t have to turn it down I was just saying you look so different with black hair it really brings out your eyes. You have very pretty blue eyes” you say staring at him a little too long in the dim lighting.

You wonder why you are suddenly turned on and shake the thought from your head. He listens to your tipsy rambling and smirks refilling your glass. “I’ve seen this movie over a dozen times I’d rather hear you talk honestly” he admits glancing over at you affectionately.

The movie continues to play at a lower volume the bright flashing colors and lights are a dizzying spectacle to your eyes.

Him wearing green, him wearing pink, him jiggling his dick on the screen. “Wait what?” You exclaim. As you sit up he laughs. “I swear I just saw! Oh!! You did it again” you rest back in your chair wondering why you are becoming wet.

The movie continues and you are fully invested in every word he says. His southern drawl is resonating in your ears.

He pours you a glass one more time as the Trouble scene comes on smiling to himself. When the scene shows him on stage you are already labored breathing because he looks so good in eyeliner. As he begins to sing and then dance on the sceeen you audibly gasp.

Why is it so sexual isn’t this the 50s? You watch as he kneels and rises from the floor as women in the audience on screen reach for his cock“ holy fuck “ you say out loud as you pant heavily.

You wonder if he can really do that… inside of you. You squirm in your seat too heavily aroused “Fuck Mr. Butler.. I mean Austin” you say a little slurred and he pauses the movie on the scene when he’s in the cop car.

“Mr.B- -Austin I didn’t eat and I worked out and I had the wine and now I feel really weird…oh god!” you exclaim standing up from the couch “The kids what time is it!”

He stands with you and watches as you try to steady your balance. “The kids aren’t coming” he admits. “What?!” You exclaim louder than you intended trying to focus your eyes feeling like they are vibrating.

“The kids aren’t coming because it’s a week day” he says looking at you as if you got the plans wrong.

You go over in your mind how he handed you the money and you try to remember his exact words ‘Come on your day off and make it up to me’ you realize he wants you to make it up sexually. You take a step back “Oh god Mr. Butler” —-“ Austin” he interjects

You take another step back “Mr. Austin I can’t - - ” he cuts you off again “just -Austin” he says.

Your back hits the wall behind you in a pathetic attempt to avoid his alluring aura. He places his hands to the wall on either side of your head cornering you and standing so closely you can smell his cologne.

“I tried luring you in so many ways but you were just so professional you never relaxed your guard around me. But I finally figured out how to loosen you up.” He says with a smile.

He stares into your eyes with a burning intensity wanting to watch your reaction as he admits it

“A pinch of ecstasy in a full glass of wine.” He smirks

“What!” You exclaim in shock that he’s already drugged you. He smiles “A good girl like you wouldn’t even know what was happening to her.” He confesses with an alluring smile.

He lowers his head next to your ear “Why do you think you’re having so much fun?” he whispers to you as a strange sensation falls over your body.

He smiles against your ear and hovers his mouth over your neck fanning your sensitive skin as he speaks "You didn't leave me another way to have you.....it’s a shame I had to make it this way." He says as he licks his tongue in a trail along your neck.

You go weak and cover with chills as he starts to kiss and suck your neck making your body begin to tingle all over especially between your legs. It suddenly makes sense why the movie colors were so vivid and you felt shocks to your core that made you wet every second he was on screen.

You have fallen in to his trap.

Your breathing increases and you weakly put your hands on his firm chest trying to stop him but it's in vain. You can't fight the effect he has over you. The wine and the ecstasy make you completely surrender his touch, you want more of him as he wants more of you.

He reaches his hand between your legs and presses his fingers against your pussy. It radiates pulses of pleasure throughout your entire body. A small moan escapes your lips. “Your fucking soaked “ he says looking at his wet fingertips.

You grab his hand placing it back to your aching pussy wanting him to touch you more you are craving it but he smirks.

He brings his hand up to your throat placing it gently there instead gazing directly into your eyes knowing he has complete control to pervert you to his wishes.

“I never took a good girl Ike you to be such a slut” he teases and you whimper. “Go on beg your boss to touch you like a slut“ he commands. You slowly muster up the words “please… touch me”

You feel his hard cock press across your thighs instead making your core clench

“Is that what you want?" He asks leaning in to suck onto your neck again. “Yes! Please Mr.Butler touch me” your desperate tone makes his cock harder.

"What did I tell you about my name?" He asks rubbing his hand against your pussy. His touch sends shocks of pleasure radiating through your body distracting you from saying his name. "A-Austin!!" you finally cry out.

"You’re so cock drunk you can't even form words" he says smiling in amusement as he kisses his way up your neck to your lips. He takes you into an erotic kiss gaining instant access to your wanting mouth. He glides his tongue in and twirls it against yours while devouring your lips. He pulls you from the wall back into the aisle and pushes you down on the couch breaking his kiss and making you lay flat.

He holds your legs up pulling the band of your shorts to peel them off of you with your panties, leaving you half naked.

He climbs on top of you settling between your legs. His eyes are full of lust as you see them roam your body. He slowly unzips your jacket exposing your body in your sports bra. "Fuck you look incredible" he says trailing his hand down your stomach.

His left hand hooks his thumb into your sports bra pulling it up enough to let your tits out of their confinement. He gets his phone out of his pocket and takes a photo with flash.

You turn away as it hurts your sensitive eyes. Any dignity you had left was shattered as soon as he took the compromising photo. “Please delete it Austin!” you beg him with your entire career on the line if he shows anyone."Delete it?” He smirks “No, I’m gonna use it blackmail you into doing whatever I desire, and if you deny me it’ll be posted anonymously so everyone will know what a slut you really are” he confesses. “Austin please I’ll do what ever you say please don’t post the photo” you beg him almost in tears the photo would ruin you.

He smiles and squeezes one of your full tits then the other. He tugs at your nipples making you gasp “Our little secret then” He says enamored, he finally has you at his mercy.

Suddenly you feel him slowly sink two of his fingers in your tight cunt. He starts to pump them in pulling against a hard ridge inside that makes your hips buck up ."Austin!" you moan out as he sends shock of pleasure all over your body.

Your core gets tighter as he continues to finger you massaging your tight walls. You are heavily panting feeling the release of so many endorphins firing at once from the ecstasy.

Austin notices the way your legs tremble as your walls flutter against his fingers you’re going to cum. He increases his pace enjoying his wet knuckles smacking against your folds as you moan.

"Austin please don't stop!" you plead as you start to climax. He places his other hand across your pelvis pressing down and using his thumb to circle your clit.

You are high pitched moaning with your core so tight it feels like it will snap “cum for me “he commands and you clutch his wrist feeling how he shoves his finger inside of you as your orgasm.

You deeply moan as sparks explode in your core and radiate through your body. He continues to finger you into aftershock until your back arch’s from the couch as you cry out for him . Then he slows to a stop.“ I know I know” he says cooing at you as he caresses your jaw. It was an intense orgasm you are panting and shivering trying to regain your breath. You rest your head back on the couch in a daze.

The ecstasy in your system has increased your arousal to its peak you have lost all control over your body.

You watch Austin pull a condom from his pocket and tear it open. He reaches in the band of his sweats and releases his thick cock. "oh god..." you say in a shock because he is so well endowed

"Such a slut for letting your new boss fuck you like this" He says as he smiles at you. He presses the condom to the head of his cock and carefully rolls it down his shaft. He sees you eyeing his every movement. "Just a condom on the first time. In the application you sent in it said you are not on birth control, but we’re gonna fix that" he confesses.

Your eyes widen in shock as you whimper. You gave up so much information on your hiring form most that didn’t even pertain to the job. He knows: What college you go to, where your parents live, all of your social media handles, even your time of the month, among so many other things. He has it all thought out and trapped you officially.

“When Mr. Milano referred you to me, I was shocked he’d ever give you up , but with his divorce… no more kids no more babysitter.” He smiles “You were the hottest thing I’d ever seen. The picture he sent of you innocently smiling in your tennis outfit at his house.I pleasured myself to your photo right there at my bathroom sink.” He gazes lustfully between your legs “and now I finally get to try your sweet pussy”

You let out a moan as he settles between your legs and parts your thighs wider. He rests his chest to yours and aims his cock for your entrance. As he penetrates you grip his shoulders and cry out from the piercing of his size.

"MMm my good girl taking my cock so well..-fuck-..your so tight" he says as you gasp for air feeling the stretch. He slowly makes you take every inch of him until it’s too painful "it’s too much A-austin! Too m-much!!" you plead as your eyes well with tears and your nails dig into his shoulders.

You don't think you can handle it as you start to feel how big his cock is. "Be a good girl and take it all for me" he says as he trusts himself deep sinking in all the way to your core. Your back arcs but no sound escapes your throat from the pain as the ecstasy amplifies it.

He works into you your stunned body at a gentle pace “Don’t worry pretty girl…the pain will subside … and you will like it "he reassures you and plants kisses on your neck to distract you as he thrusts into you stretching your tight walls. After a moment his words are true the pain transforms into pleasure and he hears your sweet moans in his ears.

He puts his left hand on your hip increasing his thrusts pushing his deepest to hit your cervix. He turns your head exposing the other side of your neck to kiss and suck your most vulnerable spot creating a bruise.

He pins your hands above your head and tilts his hips thrusting at a deeper angle and increasing your moans. His hips begin smacking into yours as you cry out on each one of his thrusts.“ Austin I’m so closel” you admit in passion.“Gonna make you cum with me” he breaths. He increases his speed until he’s wracking your body with his plows. “I’m gonna cum!” You yell making his cock twitch. He groans as he pumps you full of his seed. He grips your shoulders for leverage and pushes even deeper. You both moan in unison as you orgasm.

He finishes panting heavily above you staring into your eyes. He is thoroughly satisfied and already wants to feel every ridge of your walls without a condom.

You look back up at him as you regain your breath, it was the best sex you ever had. “I’m gonna pull out now” he says and you nod as he slides his shaft back until his cock head slips out. You both moan from the loss of contact. He slowly stands from the couch and pulls the condom off of his cock until it snaps. He fixes his sweats and discards the condom in a lined bin.

You quickly find your panties and your shorts and pull them back on then you stand and zip up your sports jacket. Austin raises the lights to brighten the room as he turns all the other settings in the movie theater off with his universal remote. “Earlier when you mentioned you didn’t eat I wanted to feed you. Can I feed you now” He asks over his shoulder.

You collect your purse. “No I think I’ll just go home.” You say nervously. He turns to look at you then.

“I want you to stay” he offers but you shy away “Austin I have classes in the morning I really wasn’t planning for …all of this”

He approaches you slowly tucking his finger under your chin. He sees in your eyes you are too drunk to even leave his estate.

He smirks knowing you’ll have to stay the night and he’s going to enjoy you again and again. He also has something he can give you that will always get his way with you.

“How much do I owe you for baby sitting me then” he asks slyly looking away to retrieve his phone. He opens the app to transfer money directly to your account. He leaves the number space blank as he hands it to you.

You look up at him knowing it was the best sex of your life but the way he corrupted the situation and controls you with it. You decide to go all in, typing in the number you want and handing it back to him. Double your monthly salary.

His eyes light up in amusement and he immediately hits send. You are well worth it. He wants you more and he quickly thinks of a way to get you to stay during the week.

Your phone alerts the transfer is complete and your stomach jumps in excitement looking at the amount in your banking app. He smiles seeing how happy you are.

As your eyes meet he gazes at you lustfully “For that amount you’ll have babysit me for the rest of the week then.” He admits.

End

To be continued due to high demand ♥️☺️🥀

Available now ♥️

[honeybleed]

— ★ BIRTHDAY BOY // PORTGAS D. ACE

content & warnings: fem!reader, canon-verse, spoilers about ace’s family if you haven’t got up to marineford 🚶🏽‍♂️, whitebeard crew member!reader, mentions of alcohol, smut (69, fingering, breastplay) ace has a dirty mouth in this, mdni, past traumas, mentions of grooming, death (maternal mortality), angsty but comfort & fluff

author’s note: happy birthday (01/01) to my freckled sunshine eee

word count: 2.3k

"Eh? What do you mean Ace doesn't celebrate his birthday?" You questioned as you sat with the others for dinner.

"Beats me." Thatch chuckled. "He gets all pissy when you bring it up."

Whitebeard's crew always felt like a family affair, and Ace had always been celebrated. A party animal like Ace not wanting to enjoy his special day sounded completely absurd to you.

Ace was sat on the crow's nest, overlooking the orange hues of the sunset as the Moby Dick swayed in a rhythmic grace on the calm waters.

The last time one of the rowdy crew members insisted on making a big spectacle for his birthday and refused to drop it, resulted in a fistfight where Ace had knocked the poor man's tooth out and left him with a black eye.

He'd learned to laugh it off now.

"Mind if I join you?" You grinned after you clambered the mast.

"Sure." Ace said with his trademark wolfish grin, scooting up. A comfortable silence fell over the both of you as you gazed up at the seagulls calling as they flew.

"Do you remember when we met?" You said, turning to face him.

"Yeah.." He chortled. "You gave your poor sis hell."

Your sister was one of Whitebeard's nurses for his deteriorating health. She often made remarks he was the one patient who would drink while receiving an IV drip.

And there was nothing anybody could do about it. You always snuck on board to get a peep of the colossal figure dubbed "The Strongest Man in the World."

The other members always treated you like a pest, chucking you out every time you snuck on board much to your dismay.

That is until you helped a wandering Fire Fist Ace sneak away from marines, proving your loyalty and worth.

Your sister always struggled with raising you and she knew you were better suited for life on the seas. So she let you go. It was a stepping stone for life, and you were eternally grateful.

"Usually I'm quite good at going undetected by those floozies." Ace chuckled. "I was probably hungover or somethin'!"

"Ace...you mind if I ask you something?" You asked finally mustering up the courage.

"Shoot." He responded.

"...Why don't you celebrate your birthday?"

He tensed up, jaw clenching. Ace had a soft spot for you so he bit his tongue, not wanting to be an asshole and yell.

"Whose big mouth flapped their gums?" He settled on, voice still venomous despite his attempts at restraining himself as he rubbed the nape of his neck.

"Don't blame them, Ace...I was snooping around. I'm sorry."

He made a disgruntled noise as his face crinkled up in disgust.

"Don't say sorry, jeez. Making me feel like an asshat."

You snorted at his comment.

"What's the big flap about birthdays anyways? It's just like any ole day." He said gruffly.

"You get older.." You said softly.

"And it's the day you came into this world. It deserves to be celebrated."

Ace's mind replayed that sentence on a loop for some odd reason as he lay on his bed after most of the crew headed to turn in for the night.

Turmoil was always brewing within Ace. Despite the polite, happy-go-lucky and cheeky front he put out, his mind felt as if he was stuck in quicksand of wondering why he was alive.

He loathed his father. He loved his mother and sometimes, very rarely he would lay in bed thinking about the way she protected him, so much so it had cost her life.

Nobody has memories of birth, but he liked to picture being held by his mother. During infancy. During childhood. Hell, even as a teenager before he took off.

This already stabbing guilt worsened knowing she had died that same day he was born.

He constantly blamed himself. It was irrational, he knew. Sometimes sacrifices are made by a person and as devastating as they may be, they should be respected regardless.

Garp never spoke about Ace's parents to him. He had let it slip after getting blind drunk at one of the mountain bandit's raves that Ace was the spitting image of Roger with Rouge's freckles.

He loathed his father. He loved his mother.

So the information he had inherited something from her sparked joy in his otherwise miserable existence.

Ace was torn away from his dark thoughts when he heard a knock on his cabin.

"Oh...hey Y/N-" He trailed off when he saw you holding a sprinkled cupcake with a single candle planted into it.

"What's all this...?" He asked eyebrow arched.

"It's for you.." You smiled. "I was gonna borrow a lighter but you can light it yourself, mhm?"

"That I can." He chuckled wryly. He stepped to the side to usher you in and closed the door.

The bed creaked as you sat down after placing it on the wooden desk. Ace slumped into the chair, his arms on the rests.

"You don't gotta tell me why you hate your birthday but...make a wish, hm?"

Ace let out a sigh as he shook his head. He could never say no to you. He lit the candle with the tip of his forefinger.

He was stuck on what exactly to wish for but his eyes flickered to you, who was gazing at him expectantly, he felt a surge of warmth in his chest.

After he said his wish in his mind, he blew out the candle. You dipped your index finger in the butterscotch cream, swiping it on the tip of his nose, earning a hearty chuckle from Ace as he threw his head back.

The type of belly ache laugh that makes the muscles in your cheeks hurt. He never thought he could even have a genuine smile today.

He mischievously swiped some of the cream onto your lips and nudged his forehead against yours.

"May I?"

You drew a sharp intake of breath, blood roaring in your ears as his dark eyes glinted with the lantern behind you.

"...Yes." You whispered, and Ace immediately cupped your cheek and slotted his lips against yours. You were still sitting on the bed, his hand pressing firmly against the mattress as he leaned down to kiss you.

The kiss was sweet from the taste of the cream to the tender-like movements of Ace's lips against yours.

When he lapped up the flavor from your lips, he slid his tongue against yours earning a soft whimper from you as heat pooled deep in your gut.

"ACE!" You squeaked out.

Against the pillows, your heart thumped in anticipation. He stood as he unbuckled his belt and let his shorts drop to his ankles.

It was a lewd sight you suppose, and it'd probably get crazier as this went on.

He was on all fours, crawling towards you which was a little funny to see, then he slotted himself between your legs and began to glide his tongue along the skin of the juncture between your shoulders and neck.

You let out a gasp at the sensation of his large hands squeezing your breast.

"Already..?" He whispered in your ear, his thumb flicking the hardened nipple.

Ace by no means was a lothario, and his own sexual experiences had come from the early days when he first ventured out into the sea.

The older women always told him how much of a pretty boy he was and how his freckles were to die for.

At the time he felt his chest swell with pride, especially when his older crew mates propped him up. Saying how much of a real man he was now.

But late at night he often thought back and he felt disgusted with himself. He hated it. He couldn't exactly pinpoint why he felt that way but he couldn't stand it.

So he steered away from intimacy. He could flirt his way out of trouble but when things ever began to heat up when he was on his expeditions around, he knew when to cut and run.

Somehow, as he was about to engage in something so heated with you he oddly felt comforted. As if this was meant to happen.

"Ace..." You murmured as his lips began to suck and lick the flesh of your stomach.

"What is it princess, do you want me to stop..?" He asked gently, dark eyes flickering to yours full of warmth and tenderness.

"No...I want this.." You mumbled, the tips of your ears red as you felt exposed in front of Ace. "But if it's your special day, I should be the one treating you."

A very predatory almost primal-looking glint gleamed in Ace's eyes.

"Baby...do you trust me?" Ace questioned.

You nodded. He made you stand up as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Ace already naked, began to peel off the remainder of your night clothes until you were fully nude in front of him.

He slowly began to lave kisses and sucked on your nipples, causing your breath to hitch in your throat, gripping your hips to keep you in place.

You whimpered his name, goosebumps trailing all over your body as your pussy began to almost sob at the attention. Ace swiped his middle and forefinger between your folds, practically in awe at your wetness.

He looked up to meet your eyes once more, his own swirling with lust.

"All this for me, baby?"

Unsure of what to say, you simply nodded.

"You're mighty sweet, aren't ya?" He chuckled darkly, his thumb beginning to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves, damn near about to buckle.

"You're treatin' me enough by letting me play with that pretty pussy on my special day...but if you insist. Come on. Sit on my face and suck my cock, mhm?"

The crudeness and vulgarity leaving Ace's mouth was shocking you. You've heard a dirty joke from Ace once or twice but this was another level.

Regardless, you'd be lying if you didn't say the filth from his mouth wasn't spurring you on.

As he laid back on his bed, helping you shift into the position to ride his face as you sucked him off.

You gasped when you felt Ace's fingers dig into the flesh of your plush thighs with the added sensation of him burying his face between your dripping core.

He kissed and bit the delicate flesh of your inner thighs before he completely plunged his tongue into your cunt to run it along the wet folds.

You immediately whined. He'd just begun but he was so good at it, you felt a shudder down your spine.

Your nails sunk into his toned thighs as you carefully eyed his hardened cock, the tip already oozing white pearls of pre cum and angrily red.

"It looks like it hurts." You thought to yourself but were immediately dragged out of your thoughts as Ace parted your folds with his fingers, making you squeak.

"What happened to wanting to treat me, huh?" He chuckled, words vibrating against your pussy causing you to jolt.

You never even thought of the idea of wanting somebody's dick in your mouth. Yet Ace's looked so enticing.

Slightly tan with a vein running along the underside. He seemed like such a wild person who didn't care about 'maintenance' yet his pubes seemed to be well trimmed.

It was slightly hard to concentrate on what you needed to do, what with Ace slurping and suckling your pussy obnoxiously. He was making you lightheaded and a moaning mess in his grip.

The pad of your thumb brushed against the slit of his tip, smearing the cum around. He hissed and bucked his hips slightly since he was carried away with the relentless assault of his tongue on your core.

"You goddamn minx..." He muttered with a hazy smile.

Your hand wrapped around his length and began to stroke him tauntingly slow, giving kitten licks on his aching tip. He let out a groan, his raven locks plastering onto the sweat on his forehead.

Soon enough, you slowly but surely took Ace's cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around him as the mixture of saliva and precum coated his dick.

You and Ace were cut from the same cloth you suppose. Both of the oral you were giving each other was sloppy and messy, and you both were struggling to keep your sanity amidst the pleasure.

The Second Division captain's cabin was a cacophony of sinful and desperate moans bouncing off the mahogany panelings and skin slapping.

"Fuck...princess.." Ace gasped out, his breath tickling your sticky and puffy folds. "Don't think I can...handle this much longer. Let's cum together, mhm..?"

You nodded, throat a little raw at Ace accidentally hitting the back of your throat with his tip with the over-enthusiasm of you bobbing your head when you increased your pace.

Soon enough, you simultaneously hit your orgasms, Ace's hot seed oozing in your mouth and your juices squirting on his tongue, he eagerly lapped up the essence causing you to jerk away in hysterics.

"You are so damn...greedy!" You heaved out, breaths shallow after you swallowed and rubbed your throat.

"Can't help myself, princess." Ace remarked with a weary smile as he sat up then crawled over to rest on your chest. "You make me insatiable."

You ruffled his jet-black tresses and kissed his temple as he wrapped his arms around your waist, face nestled into you.

"Hope you enjoyed, birthday boy." You smiled.

"Aw...so you sitting on my face is reserved for birthdays only? Suddenly I wish every day was my birthday." He chuckled, causing you to thump his arm.

The next morning, despite the elaborate plan to leave before dawn before anybody saw you leave Ace's cabin you were caught.

"Here." Thatch said sliding a mug of tea over to you. "Marco says peppermint is good for a sore throat."

That was the last thing Thatch remembered before he was scalded with some of the boiling water sloshed on his hand, the rest of the crew in hysterics.

author’s note: if you read this far tysm! reblogs & interactions always appreciated. its like 4am n i wrote this w my pussy n depression so sorry for any grammatical or spelling mistakes

[thecouchsofa]

You might be thinking, Tee, in your 2023 AO3 wrap up post, you said you wrote a ridiculous amount of HP fic this year - but what about reading? Well, thanks for asking, imaginary audience – as a matter of fact, I did indeed read a lot of Drarry fics this year. A fucking horrendous number of Drarry fics, in fact.

Below the cut are some of my favourites that were published in 2023, arranged by word count.

But first, a note: there is truly an overwhelming amount of talent in this fandom and this list only scratches the surface. These fics all gave me something that I was looking for and were my favourites for a number of different reasons. I hope you can find something new to love here (or reconnect with an old favourite), and that you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

If there’s a fic from 2023 that isn’t here but you really enjoyed, chuck it in the replies section so we can all see it!

🌸 AITA for being "obsessed" with my childhood nemesis? – @rainstormradish (4k, M) 🌸

Alrakis I [24M] attended a small boarding school in the UK. There was a boy in my year, a couple of months younger than me, and he became my nemesis after we developed an intense rivalry. My friend [25F] told me recently that our dynamic was "weird back then" and that "it’s even weirder" that I still think about him today. She argued that I talk about him all the time, but I believe the amount I talk about him is reasonable. AITA?

prongymcprongface i completely get what you mean. i had a nemesis (like a school one, separate to my other nemesis) and we had a dynamic super similar to what you are describing. having a nemesis is a very cool and normal thing dw about it. NTA

In which Draco asks the internet if he's being reasonable. Only one commenter is sympathetic. They start talking.

Read for: unique fic idea with a cool layout, humour, boys being idiots

🌻 Snug – @moonflower-rose (6k, E) 🌻

Potter can't keep his hands off himself. Draco can't look away.

Read for: Draco being Obsessed with Harry(‘s cock), Humorous Writing Style

🪻 Birds Behaving Badly – @peachpety (10k, E) 🪻

For eight years, Draco has been content living a quiet life of anonymity in Brighton, dodging pesky seagulls and enjoying the ephemeral boys of summer. And if these summer blokes just happen to resemble Harry Potter, it’s a mere coincidence—despite what his friends say.

But when a repeat one-night stand challenges him to face his desires, Draco thinks he’s finally over his years-long crush.

A seagull named Kevin thinks otherwise.

For: Unleashed!Fest 2023

Read for: hidden/mistaken identity, summer vibes, Kevin the seagull

🌸 Under the Confetti Mist – @azalealarae (12k, E) 🌸

Harry and Draco stay up late working on a Potions assignment in the poorly ventilated eighth-year common room, unaware that disinhibition is a side effect of the elixir’s vapor.

Read for: Sex Pollen, Drarry as Potions partners

🌻 Hellos, goodbyes, a thousand midnights – newskyillusion (13k, M) 🌻

The world, as Harry knew it, has ended.

At least he has a garden.

OR

Harry and Draco live through the apocalypse

For: Drarry Let’s Play Fest 2023

Read for: body horror, cosy vibes (just trust me, lol), Harry gardening, Powerful Harry, Harry and Draco relying on each other.

🪻 Amorous As This Lovely Green – @annanother-thing (14k, E) 🪻

Harry hates being a celebrity. Draco cannot find a single model that fits his vision for his latest line. They both make the debatable choice of trusting one PA extraordinaire/best friend, Pansy Parkinson.

For: Harry/Draco Career Fair 2023

Read for: Harry modelling lingerie, Hot Harry

🌸 Help! I'm a Hopeless Romantic! – @peachydreamxx (14k, M) 🌸

Draco turns from the bar, eyes latching onto Harry. He surveys him, one brow lifting, and Harry, like a deer in headlights, throws his hand up with the world’s most awkward wave. Draco just weaves out of sight, and Harry’s face burns as Ron pats him on the shoulder, then steals a chip. “He gave you a look, didn’t he?”

~ how to get over your crush

~ places that sell cake after 11pm near me

~ how to tell if someone is playing hard to get

A year in the life of Harry's shared moments, and private thoughts

For: Wheel of Drarry Mini-Exchange Secret Santa 2023

Read for: Harry’s Google Searches, Humour

🌻 Cool About It – @oflights (M, 16k) 🌻

Harry is so excited for his first date with Draco. But what follows isn't so much a date as it is an all-night odyssey including a malevolent lift, a Gringotts heist, a Sleeping Curse, a trip to the kebab shop, a lack of dancing, a Muggle drug, a rooftop pool party, a black eye and, eventually, a sunrise over a Quidditch stadium.

Read for: Humour, idiots in love, first dates

🪻 The Eighth Sin – @thehoneybeet (16k, E) 🪻

When Draco is sentenced to five years of house arrest, without magic, alone, the only person to visit him is Potter. But Draco’s beginning to doubt whether Potter is really there at all.

For: HD Wireless 2023

Read for: dreamy/sad vibes, caring Harry, a beautiful exploration of a relationship

🌸 What’s Mine is Yours – @fluxweeed (17k, E) 🌸

Harry loses something important. Malfoy helps him get it back.

Read for: smut so hot it’ll light you on fire

🌻 O Come, All Ye Faithful – toomuchplor (19k, E) 🌻

Aunt Petunia died, that was what began everything.

Or rather, Aunt Petunia was dying. In the act of dying.

In which Draco finds faith in the church, and Harry finds faith in Draco.

Read for: Vicar Draco, Harry’s Vicar Kink, Beautiful Writing, Draco’s Hard Sanctified Cock

🪻 The Boys of Summer – @saxamophone (19k, E) 🪻

It's summer, and they're spending it at a lake, far away from everything. There’s swimming and a floating dock, cracked and warm in the sun. Fizzy drinks and fireflies. Sticky strawberry ice lollies and beach towels tangled under them.

Harry’s golden skin and love for The Grateful Dead and Fleetwood Mac.

Draco Malfoy is doomed, but what else is new?

For: HD Wireless 2023

Read for: delicious pining, summer vibes, beautiful romance, nostalgic vibes

🌸 Nature pricks them on to ramp and rage – @goblinmatriarch (E, 21k) 🌸

Lord Draco Malfoy may be a young man spending time in Dumbledore’s summer court, but that does not mean he needs to succumb to its licentious frivolity. He carries the burden of his lineage, the shadow of rumours, and the dignity of his betrothal to a good match. He is certainly not fool enough to be distracted by the dark curls and ready grin of the court’s stableboy, who seems to have taken up with every courtier who looks his way.

For: HP Bodice Ripper Fest 2023

Read for: Historical AU done right, Draco in a codpiece, more riding euphemisms than you can count

🌻 True Love Gave To Me – @epitomereally (23k, E) 🌻

It’s the first of December, and all Draco wants to do is make Christmas lovely for Scorpius. But then Harry Potter shows up, asking him to save the world, and it turns out they’ve almost saved the world a couple of times before. One-hundred and forty-four times, to be exact.

Or: what happens after the time loop?

For: H/D Erised 2023

Read for: time loop shenanigans, cosy vibes, adorable Scorpius (and his geese)

🪻 Nothing But You On My Mind – @moonflower-rose (29k, M) 🪻

Potter has been in Australia on an internship for almost a year, and Draco cannot wait for him to get back home. They'll finally have a chance to talk about their feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong?

Loads, as it turns out.

For: HD Wireless 2023

Read for: Angst, Draco/Ron/Hermione Friendship, idiots in love

🌸 who will receive you in love's offices – @jtimu (30k, E) 🌸

A year in the life of Draco Malfoy, increasingly derailed by Harry Potter.

In the aftermath of it all, Draco opened an antiques shop. Sort of. Mostly, though, what he did was repair work. People brought him their grandparents’ charmed silverware or a pocketwatch which was meant to show the stars at your birth but now only held the time, and he would fix them. It was quiet work, a little lonely, but for the repeated intrusions of one Harry J Potter.

Read for: brilliant deep dive into magical theory, smarty pants Draco, enemies to friends to lovers (emphasis on the middle step), poetry references by the bucketful, a version of Draco that lives rent free in my mind

🌻 Half Sick of Shadows – @starquestingfordrarry (39k, E) 🌻

Harry and Draco have been sleeping together for months, and it's fine. It's enough for Harry.

But when things finally start to feel like the more Harry's been hoping for, a strange tapestry project has him worrying he won't ever get the chance.

Or: the one with sheep, dragons, and a whole lot of weaving metaphors.

For: H/D Career Fair 2023

Read for: Alvin the ram, Harry carving wooden dildos, magical tapestries, atmospheric vibes, an artfully created world

🪻 Now I Know In Part – @dodgerkedavra (39k, E) 🪻

Harry Potter is the savior of the Wizarding World. Draco Malfoy is a reformed Death Eater turned Ministry Curse-Breaker. Five years after the War, they're brought together by another mysterious curse.

Only this time, Harry's the one who needs saving.

More specifically, he needs Draco.

They have one month to break the curse, and the clock is ticking.

Read for: Draco taking care of Harry, Cottagecore vibes, bucketfuls of sweetness, great smut

🌸 Nothing Gold Can Stay – @moonflower-rose (40k, E) 🌸

One summer evening, Harry Potter vanished in the middle of dinner with his friends. Four days later he came back. Sort of.

Draco Malfoy is on the case.

For: H/D Erised 2023

Read for: Alternate Universes, Married Draco/Harry, Non-Painful Angst

🌻Sharper than a Sea Serpent's Tooth – @goblinmatriarch (40k, T)

Draco expects his research trip to Crete to focus on the ecology of ward design, with perhaps some cheeky visits to the elusive sea serpents and the odd sleepy beach day. Instead, he encounters a Past he's spent over a decade trying to outrun, and a familiar scowl under glasses and a scar. Featuring just so much imagining being on a hot, sunny beach for your winter pleasure.

For: H/D Erised 2023

Read for: Magical Creatures, Greek Mythology, International Location (Crete), Atmospheric Writing

🪻 LA, Who Am I To Love You? – @epitomereally (42k, E) 🪻

Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.

For: HD Wireless 2023

Read for: Werewolf Harry, Incubus Draco, Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers, Interesting Location (LA)

🌸 A Pulled Down Shade – fast_brother (43k, M) 🌸

Harry does not like Draco Malfoy, not even one bit. Never did and never will. That is, until he finds himself married to him.

For: HP Soulmates Fest 2023

Read for: HUGE Grounds for Divorce vibes! Angst, Harry working through trauma, Harry fighting for Draco

🌻 The Waiting – @oknowkiss (43k, E) 🌻

It’s been almost ten years since Draco Malfoy disappeared during a routine Curse Breaker training exercise. Harry, his partner in more ways than one, is determined to figure out why. As the past resurfaces and the present fades into confusion, Harry discovers the only thing more unreliable than memory is love.

For: HD Wireless 2023

Read for: Curse Breaker Partners, Angst, Secret Relationship

🪻 The Unplottable Time Conundrum – @writcraft (45k, E) 🪻

When the past starts bleeding into the present at Grimmauld Place, an old academic article pulls Draco Malfoy out of his life of luxury. Haunted by the memory of a fleeting post-war kiss and thrust into the ghostly spaces inhabited by Unspeakable Harry Potter, Draco’s easy life is about to get a whole lot more complicated.

For: H/D Erised 2023

Read for: House Magic, The Order of the Pheonix, Haunted House vibes, Drarry in their 30s

🌸 Our Objective Remains Unchanged – @citrusses (46k, E) 🌸

Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order.

Read for: Muggle AU, Sports AU, Competitiveness, Damn good writing

🌻 Everybody Hates a Tourist – @wolfpants (51k, E) 🌻

On a stag do in sunny Brighton with the Gryffindor lads, the last person Harry expects to run into is Draco Malfoy. After a glimpse of Malfoy’s Muggle life in Britain’s gay capital, Harry’s curiosity gets the better of him and he finds himself returning to the seaside again and again, drawn to the city, drawn to this new version of Malfoy that Harry barely recognises from school.

Meanwhile, Draco’s just trying to live his big and best queer life: working for the weekend, chasing hot men, getting lost in Brighton's nightlife, and making friends with the neighbourhood cats. Why does his former school rival and crush have to show up and spoil everything?

For: HD Wireless 2023

Read for: beautiful relationship building, Harry finding himself, Draco living his best life. I won’t lie, I’d read the back of a cereal box if wolfpants wrote it – do yourself a favour if you haven’t already

🪻 from love, obviously – bizarrestars (52k, M) 🪻

"I just mean, doing the right thing because it's right is better than doing it because…"

"What?" Draco challenges, amused. "Better to do it because it's right as opposed to doing it because it's not wrong? Please enlighten me on what the difference is."

"You're the difference," is Harry's answer.

(Or: Draco Malfoy comes up with a plan, drinks a lot of tea, and fails to fix a clock. Somewhere along the way, Harry Potter falls in love with him, which wasn't a part of the plan at all.)

Read for: Unhinged Draco, Harry being resigned to Draco’s antics, Weasley family feels, fast pacing

🌸 Terrible People – @getawayfox and @wolfpants (52k, E) 🌸

What happens when Harry and Draco end up on the same Muggle gay cruise? They certainly didn't plan for it to happen (but their friends might have). They're stuck with each other for a week, they might as well make the most of it, right?

Featuring a holiday-long game of Truth or Dare, a very ill-judged FWB proposition, decades-long pining, lots of gin, and a small pair of green swimming trunks.

Read for: Gorgeous Art , RomCom vibes, Gay Cruise, Friends with Benefits to Lovers

🌻 Nights With You – @the-sinking-ship (58k, E) 🌻

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend.

Now all Draco has to do is convince him.

Read for: Fake dating, mild size kink, international location (Italy), mildly unhinged Draco, hot Harry

Note: This is the fic that made me set up a Doc for everything I’d read to make sure I wouldn’t lose it to the wide realm of the internet.

🪻 Rookie Moves – peu_a_peu (75k, E) 🪻

Aurors Potter and Malfoy crack the case.

Read for: Humour, Enemies to Coworkers to Lovers, Unhinged Draco

🌸 How To Train Your Malfoy – @fencer-x (93k E) 🌸

Good manners dictate that, when one’s best friend Apparates onto one’s doorstep holding the unconscious, haggard body of the schoolyard bully and begging for sanctuary, one ought to invite the two of them in for a cup of tea. Harry Potter sometimes wishes he weren’t so polite.

For: H/D Erised 2023

Read for: Dragon Animagus Draco, Harry taking care of Draco, brilliant writing, a funny as fuck premise – I wanted Draco to stay in his unhinged dragon form forever

🌻 Symptom of Your Touch – NoxNoir (115k, E) 🌻

St. Mungo's Healer Draco Malfoy is used to being pushed to his limits when providing aide to the ailing, but when an unexpected encounter with an out of character Harry Potter throws his life out of balance one night, he is forced to ask himself how far he's willing to push his own levels of discomfort to be of aid to a man in need of help that only he can provide.

Read for: Draco taking care of Harry, Pining, Unrequited love, buckets of sexual tension

🪻 Recursion – Tessa Crowley (132k, E) 🪻

A process is recursive when it defines or contains itself; e.g., the Fibonacci sequence, which determines the next number as the sum of the previous two.

But not all recursive processes are mathematical. Recursion can happen in a temporal context when, for instance, the powerful magical force that is true love drags you back in time so it can create itself, endangering the fate of the Wizarding World—not to mention the very fabric of space and time—along the way.

Read for: Canon Retelling/Divergence, time travel, Slytherin Harry, a truly insane amount of physics/magical theory/intelligence. This fic was too smart for me in the best way. If you liked Chaos Theory read this – it’s even better!

🌸 Cut From the Sky – @mallstars (150k, E) 🌸

"I'm stuck in a time loop, reliving November 2nd. This is the 111th time I've lived through today."

Draco stilled. His moody eyes, the tension in his hands where he gripped onto his umbrella, the careful mask of blankness flickering over his face — everything about him was so difficult and so very dear to Harry.

"Ah," said Draco, "and?"

Note: no rec list for this year could be considered complete without including this one.

Read for: Harry at his most loveable, a relationship story told a hundred different ways, atmospheric worldbuilding, Trans representation.

🌻 In the Blood – BiscuitBrunch (225k, E) 🌻

Harry Potter thinks Draco Malfoy is a slimy git of a defense lawyer, who couldn't care less about doing the right thing.

Draco Malfoy thinks Harry Potter is a filthy pig of an Auror, who couldn't care less about doing the right thing.

They fight, fuck, fall in love, and fight some more.

When they're on the brink of getting their shit together and starting a family, a blood curse surfaces that threatens the lives of Draco and their unborn child.

Read for: badass lawyer Draco, deep exploration of a relationship, working through trauma, slice of life, mpreg

[seagull-scribbles]

A DTIYS of vector to celebrate 1K followers (as voted by you guys)

rules:

Tag me so I can see it!!

Change the book to whatever you like (my friend chose this one for me, I was tempted to do a taxes for dummies book)

I encourage you to draw your own fan designs of Vector and Charmy, don’t just copy mine if you don’t want to 💕

Feel free to add a background or espio

Have fun

And for those who aren't confident at drawing Vector, here is my guide I did last year

[dancingtotuyo]

Part III

High Infidelity | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: You and Joel hull the kids to the beach for a much needed vacation. Things begin to change.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: Tommy being a shitty husband & father, Father's day celebration, cursing, consumption of alcohol, emotional affair/cheating, some physical boundaries crossed. Pining

Notes: Y'all know the drill by now, thanks to my loves @janaispunk for beta reading and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading and providing me with some authentic prison information and inspiration, and @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

Words: 5273

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

It’s June before you’re able to escape to the shore. You make it in just over 4 hours. It’s good timing considering the multiple bathroom stops you had to make. It’s a small house that probably hasn’t been renovated since Joel was there as a kid. It sits two blocks off the shore on stilts that make you feel secluded from the people that pass on the quiet street below, and when you stand on the porch, the salty sea breeze caresses your body as you let your eyes close. You can just make out the crash of ocean waves. You can feel the breeze carrying all your cares away.  

Nate and Sarah excitedly explore the inside of the house. Their muted enthusiasm floating through the walls makes you smile. You’re thankful for this, thankful for Joel.  

The sliding door opens and then shuts. You don’t move. It’s Joel. You know the sound of his footsteps, the way he moves through the world by heart. He settles against the railing, arm pressed against yours. 

A smile spreads across your lips as your eyes open, landing on his. He smiles back. “Hard to enjoy the view with your eyes closed, Darlin.” His deep baritone rumbles smoothly. You see it in him too, the way the breeze carries away the wear and worry of the world. 

“It’s peaceful out here.” 

He nods. “Yeah, it is.”

“We should probably get back in there before the kids break something.”

Joel nudges you with his shoulder. “Don’t jinx us like that.”

“Our two? Unsupervised? That’s asking for it.”

“Our two?” A playful glint glimmers in Joel’s deep brown eyes. “My daughter is perfectly well behaved. It’s your little menace that’s the bad influence.”

“Oh my four year old is the bad influence?” You cross your arms, doing your best to keep the smile at bay. 

“For sure- got his dad’s streak for mischief. My Sarah is a perfect angel.” He sticks his tongue out at you. 

You roll your eyes, slapping his shoulder, but you don’t have a good response. He’s not wrong. Nathaniel knows how to get into places he shouldn’t. “I seem to recall an incident involving a ten pound bag of flour that says differently.”

Joel chuckles at the memory. Nathaniel was barely a week old when Sarah shrieked in the kitchen only for you to find her and the kitchen dusted in white powder. You had cried upon seeing it, postpartum hormones raging. Joel had cleaned your entire kitchen top to bottom. 

“She felt so bad for making you cry,” Joel laughs. 

“I think I scared her.”

The door opens again. Sarah and Nathaniel break out, rushing for your legs and begging to go to the beach. 

You spend the next several days lazing on the sand, reading more than you have in years as you soak in the sun. The kids run around chasing seagulls and other creatures. Joel helps them catch waves on boogie boards. You both take them further out to ride the waves. Sarah’s arms clutch around Joel’s neck, and Nathaniel does the same to you. They build sandcastles and Joel digs holes big enough to bury them both. 

At night, the kids are out by 8 o’clock if not earlier allowing you and Joel to sit out on the deck and drink. Your skin is warm from the constant sun. Joel’s cheeks are tinged pink on your third evening, his chest rosier. The salty air works at his hair, bringing out curls. You like this version of him a lot. You like this version of yourself too. 

Your feet sit in his lap as he massages your legs and feet, calves worn out from lugging your belongings across the sand and back. He stares up at the sky, twilight bringing the first few stars with it. You sip your homemade margarita, Joel’s specialty, from a red solo cup. 

“I shoulda brought my guitar. Only thing that could make this moment better,” he says. 

You hum softly, shifting in your chair. “Wouldn’t be able to massage my feet if you had your guitar.”

He laughs, so easy, so relaxed. You can’t remember the last time things felt this good. “Don’t worry, you’d still get your massage.”

“Why didn’t you bring it?” You cock your head to the side. 

“Wouldn’t fit in the car, miss over packer.”

You roll your eyes softly kicking at him. “We’ve used everything I packed. Speaking of which, what do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” You take another sip of your drink. Joel finds a knot in your calf, working it out as you let out a slight hiss. 

Joel shrugs, carefully watching your reactions careful to inflict as little pain as possible. “Ask the kids.”

“It’s Father’s Day.”

“Kids like pancakes.” Joel sips from his own drink before returning to the knot.

“But you don’t.”

“Doesn’t matter what I like, Darlin.”

“Well, it does tomorrow.” You cross your arms. 

Joel sighs rolling his eyes. 

You narrow yours. “Don’t make me force it out of you. You know I will.”

He considers it a minute before deciding it’s a losing battle. “Those omelets you made for my birthday. I really liked those.”

You smile. “I can manage that.”

You sit in bed with Nathaniel the next morning to call Tommy. As early as possible is preferred, not that Tommy will care. He’s been blowing you off more, hardly talking when you call or visit, seemingly uninterested when you talk about Nate. It’s exhausting. You dread it, but you continue anyway. 

It takes a while before Tommy’s voice comes through the speaker. You force an exaggerated smile to your face for Nathaniel’s sake. Daddy is an abstract being to him. “Hey babe. Happy Father’s Day!”

“Oh… that’s today?”

You push back the annoyance rising inside you. “Nate wants to say hello.” You hold the phone up to your four-year-old’s ear.

“Hello?” he says. 

You can barely make Tommy’s pathetic response. He won’t even pretend for Nathaniel and that’s the unbearable part of all this. 

“Happy Day!” Nathaniel says, taking hold of the receiver before he dives into updating his stranger of a father all about their beach vacation. Tommy stays quiet the whole time. 

Rage begins to boil just under the surface. Before it can bubble over, Nathaniel says goodbye, shoving the phone into your chest and dashing out of the room the moment he hears Sarah moving around in the living room. 

“Tommy?”

“Look, I need to go.”

You're not sure what’s worse. The hurt or the anger inside you. “I love you.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you on Friday.”

“Tommy.” It sounds like a scold. That’s exactly what it is.

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Time for your wife and son?”

“You’re the one who called me.”

“Are you actually going to call on Friday? Or am I gonna end up sitting next to the phone all evening?”

You get silence. 

“Tommy?”

“I’ll call.” And then the line goes dead.

You want to scream or yell or cry or all three. You settle for throwing a pillow across the room and giving yourself 5 minutes to cry. There may only be three months of this left, but you’re not sure you’ll actually be talking to your husband at the end of it, not that the two of you do any talking now. 

Wiping your eyes, you make your way to the kitchen to start on Joel’s promised breakfast. Nathaniel and Sarah sit at the table comparing sea shells. “Aunt Bonnie?”

“Yes baby doll?” You smile, kissing her head. 

“Which one would Daddy like on his card?” She points to a collection of about 5 shells. 

“Hmmm,” you crouch down to her level, looking them over. “I think he would like any of them, but this one looks like him.” You point to a blue-grey shell. 

She picks it up, inspecting it carefully. “It does look kinda grumpy like him.”

You laugh. That isn’t what you meant, but she wasn’t wrong. “I’m making omelets. What do y’all want in yours?”

The kids are digging into their breakfast when Joel walks out of his room, arms stretching above his head to reveal a little sliver of his tummy. Sarah quickly shoves her Father’s Day project under some magazines. 

“Look who decided to wake up.” You smile over your shoulder. “Morning sleepy head.”

“One day of the year I get to sleep in.” He mumbles, shooting a teasing glare your way. He clocks your red eyes before you can turn away. 

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” Sarah yells, standing on her chair to give Joel a hug. He chuckles, pulling her into his arms, spinning around, and setting her back on the chair with ease. She laughs.

“Thank you, baby girl.”

“Happy Day!” Nathaniel grins at his uncle.

“Father’s Day.” Sarah corrects. Nathaniel simply shrugs like he’d said the correct thing to begin with.

Joel chuckles, kissing his nephew’s cheek. “Thanks, Bud.”

You track his footsteps over to your side of the kitchen as you invest your full attention on the omelet in front of you. You know he caught your tear-stained eyes. “Fresh coffee in the pot,” You say, keeping your voice even. 

You feel his full body heat behind you, a hand falls to your waist as he reaches into the cabinet next to the stove for a coffee mug. Something settles in your stomach. 

“What did my idiot brother do now?” He keeps his voice low so the kids don’t overhear. 

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Darlin.”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Your head snaps toward him. He’s right there, face so close to yours. Always nearby. 

“You sure?”

You bristle a little bit. He drops his hand but stays in your space. “Not right now. We’re celebrating you this morning.” He smiles softly at you. “And I don’t want to burn your omelet, so scram.” You cock your head to the side. 

He waits a second, searching for any signs he’s missing something. When he’s sure he isn’t, he gives you a soft smile and a tender kiss on the forehead, and steps over to the coffee pot, leaving you feeling warm and hazy. 

The kids help clean up after breakfast. Sarah stands on a bench at the sink to wash dishes and Nathaniel waits patiently with a dish towel to dry the lighter dishes. You and Joel sit at the table, second and third cups of coffee in hand as you oversee their efforts. 

“I think I’m going to enjoy this next phase of parenting,” Joel says with a long, content sigh. 

You feel the easiness thrumming in your veins. Why couldn’t life always be this way? “Yeah if my anxiety about broken dishes or wet feet doesn’t get the better of me first.”

He chuckles softly, sipping from his mug as an easy silence falls between you. You watch the kids and Joel watches you. Sun pours through the many windows of the beach house. You’re not ready to leave tomorrow. 

“You wanna talk about it now?”

You sigh. “Not really. We’re supposed to be celebrating you today.”

“I’ll be able to enjoy myself more if I know what’s going on in your head.”

You keep your gaze focused on the kids, rolling the words around in your head. You feel emotionally exhausted by it all and you’re not even through the morning hours yet. 

“Darlin,” Joel kicks at your foot, smile on his face. “C’mon. We can talk about it.”

You set your mug down, turning toward him. “He’s just blowing us off again. I spent more time waiting for him to come to the phone than I did talking to him. He hardly interacted with Nate this morning.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to push away the tears pressing to escape. 

Joel reaches across the table, taking your hand. He runs his thumb over your knuckles. It grazes past your wedding band, almost taunting you now. 

“I’m sorry. This isn’t fair to either of you,” Joel says.

“You’d think I’d stop letting it affect me at some point.”

Joel bites his lip, eyes pinned to your ring finger. “He’s your husband. Needs to start acting like it,” Joel says gruffly. You catch the spark of something in his deep brown eyes, but you don’t have time to place it.

“We’re done!” Sarah exclaims with a proud smile, her shirt soaked through. 

You pull your hand from Joel’s, wrapping it around your warm mug as you laugh. “Thank you for your help. Both of you.” Nathaniel puts the dish towel carefully over the oven handle, shooting you the biggest grin.  

“Can we do presents now?” Sarah asks, curls bouncing with her. 

“Presents?” Joel says. “Y’all didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Don’t be silly, Daddy.” Sarah says, looking to you for permission. 

“I think now is a great time for gifts.”

Both kids run toward their shared room. They had been very excited at the promise of bunk beds. You ease out of your chair. “Not you too.” Joel shakes his head.

You shoot him a wink. “Suck it, Miller.” 

Flashes of your delayed Mother’s Day celebration jump between you. Joel had switched up the weekends and hadn’t been prepared, but had made up for it the following weekend. You hadn’t heard from Tommy. He never even mentioned it. 

You grab the small box from your suitcase, a small white bow tied around it. The four of you settle in the living room. You sit tucked into one end of the sofa while Joel sits at the other end, a bouncing kid on either side of him. 

“Me first!” Sarah says, handing her card and hand-wrapped gift to her father. 

Joel takes care, slowly reading the card out loud. His gift consists of a souvenir snow globe and a puca shell necklace. She picked them out with great care at the beach shop the two of you stopped in yesterday. He oos and awes over both. 

“You should put on the necklace!” Sarah says, standing up on the cushions of the couch.

“Maybe I want to admire it more,” Joel says. 

You bite back a smile. He’s already lost this battle and you both know it. 

“Don’t be silly, Daddy.” She grabs it from his hand, determination, and concentration painted on her face as she wraps it around his neck.

“Yeah, don’t be silly, Daddy.” You tease, shooting him a wink. He pokes his tongue out at you as Sarah almost chokes him in the process of securing the necklace. 

“Not so tight, baby girl.” 

“Oops,” she giggles. “All done.” 

She steps back to admire her handiwork, looking quite pleased. “What do you think, Aunt Bonnie?”

“Beautiful,” You smile, laughter evident in your tone of voice. “You look ready to hit the beach.”

“My turn!” Nathaniel announces, handing Joel a hand-drawn picture depicting their day at the beach yesterday. He goes into great detail describing everything he drew. Joel’s hand rests on Nate’s shoulder blades, head tucked toward him as he takes in everything the boy says with practiced patience and intentionality. 

It strikes something in your heart, a deep longing. That should be Tommy. But it also sends a deep sense of gratitude toward your brother-in-law for picking up where his brother has failed. You swallow back the tears, losing track of how much you’ve had to do that today.

“Thank you, Bud. I love it.” Joel kisses Nathaniel's head. 

“You’re welcome, Daddy.” 

Joel freezes. Ice rushes through your bloodstream. Your eyes meet Joel’s. What do you say to that? Neither of you knows the answer. 

“He’s not your daddy, Nate,” Sarah says, pulling out her older sister voice. “He’s your uncle.” 

“Oh yeah,” Nathaniel shrugs, unbothered by his mishap as he swings his legs back and forth, hitting the couch with his heels as he does.

“Aunt Bonnie, do you have the other gift?” Sarah asks, determined to keep the morning on schedule. 

“Yeah, right here.” You fumble around, finding the box tucked between yourself and the couch. Joel keeps his eyes on you trying to figure out what’s running through your mind, but he can’t. 

Sarah plucks the box from your hands before presenting it to her father. “This is from all three of us.”

She looks very proud of herself. Joel takes it with a smile, eyes flickering back to you briefly. You give him an encouraging nod. 

He loosens the bow, pulling off the top. The kids lean over either side of his body, excited for the reveal even though they’ve both seen it. He pulls it out, inspecting it carefully. A black watch face with silver accents and an olive green watch band. His eyes dart to yours. You smile at him. 

“You’ve been talking about it for years.” You smirk, sipping your coffee. “You were never gonna do it yourself.”

“It’s exactly what I wanted.” He shakes his head, a stunned chuckle shaking his chest. “How’d you know?”

“Found an old picture Tommy had stored away last fall.”

“Look at the back.” Sarah bounces with excitement. 

Joel flips it over. His brows knit together as he catches the inscription. Happy Father’s Day. We love you. Sarah and Nathaniel. 1997.

“Do you like it?” Sarah looks up at him with sparkling excitement. 

“I love it.” He kisses her cheek, thanking both the children. He wraps it around his wrist, buckling it into place. 

“Now you won’t be late anymore,” Sarah says, making you and Joel laugh. 

“We can only hope,” you say. 

Joel looks up at you with one of the most heartfelt smiles you’ve ever seen. His lips move silently. Thank you.

You nod in response. 

You spend the final day of your vacation on the beach until the sun has disappeared. Joel ends up running back to the house to grab the car so your two very tired children don’t melt down. You hurry through bath time, trying to get all the sand from hair and bodies. You’re sure you’ll be finding sand all over your and Joel’s homes for months. 

You provide goodnight hugs and kisses, but Joel takes bedtime duties. You’re cleaning up the kitchen, and packing up pantry items when the first lines of You Are My Sunshine drift out of the kid’s bedroom in Joel’s soft melodies. The kids' sleepy voices talk him into another lullaby and then another before their eyelids slip closed and their breathing evens out. 

The door clicks softly and you’ve already pulled the margarita pitcher and new solo cups. “See they talked you into the whole set list tonight.” You smile, filling the cups with the last of the margaritas. 

“It’s the last night of vacation.” Joel chuckles. He grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and the half-eaten bag of pretzels. “They asked so nicely.”

“And you’re a big softy.” 

You grab both cups, following Joel out to your spot on the deck. It’s cooler tonight, the breeze a bit stronger. You sit across from each other, feet propped in the seat of the other’s chair with the blanket spread across your legs. Joel sets the pretzels right at your knees. 

“Did you enjoy your day?” You ask, sipping on the day-old margarita. It goes down easier tonight, and your cup is filled to the brim.

“It was a good day.” Joel smiles at you, easy and relaxed. The world and your issues feel so far away here despite the day’s earlier events. “Probably the best Father’s Day yet.”

“Oh you mean it beats the raw banana bread from last year?” You’re laughing before the sentence fully leaves your mouth. Joel’s head falls back, chest vibrating with laughter. 

His hair curls more from the salty air and fits him, tanned skin, curly hair, Puca shell necklace and all. You wonder if you look like a similar version of yourself, the relaxed beach version. 

“Sarah trying to choke me with the necklace beats whatever it was you tried to bake last year.”

You stick out your tongue. The pretzel bag rustles as he grabs a handful. You take another drink from your cup. Joel Miller makes a mean margarita. 

“What about you? Did you have a good day then?”

You take an extra second to think about it before nodding. “Yeah. I can’t complain when it comes to well-behaved kids and the beach.”

“Nathaniel calling me dad didn’t throw you off, I hope.”

Your shoulders tense a little bit. “I think I’m the one who should be asking that.” 

“Kinda surprised it hasn’t happened sooner if I’m being honest.” Joel’s pointer finger slides along the lip of his cup before he brings it to his lips. 

You bite your lips, staring at the house across the street. “Same.” 

“Sorry, that was kinda a mood killer.” Joel’s hand rests on your calf. 

“It’s fine. You’re more of a father to him than his real dad.” You try to wave it off, but the facts are reeling in your mind like a movie. “Fuck, you were in the delivery room, and coached his T-ball team, and you’ve tucked him into bed more times than Tommy ever has.” You swipe away the moisture that’s gathered in your eyes, chasing them with another gulp of your drink. 

“Hey… maybe you should slow down there.” Joel leans forward, his feet dropping from your chair as he grabs the solo cup from you and the pretzels tumble to the deck. 

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” You reach for the cup, but Joel keeps it out of reach, setting it on the ground next to his. 

“I do.” He’s firm with you, grabbing your hands and tucking them between his. You can’t meet his eyes, embarrassment flooding your body. “What's going on in your mind right now?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Darlin,” He tugs gently on your arms. Your feet greet the warm deck as you're forced to sit up straighter. The side of your knee bumps against his. “You can talk to me.”

“I just want to enjoy our last night, Joel.”

“Can’t do that if I’m worried about you.” He tips your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

The street lights flicker off his warm eyes. You feel his touch linger under your chin. Extra warmth gathers in each place he touches. The words bubbling up in you, helpless to stop the thoughts circling in your head for months. 

“I’m not sure my marriage is salvageable. I don’t know if I’ll recognize my husband when he gets out. I don’t think he’s the same person-“ You can’t finish through the choked-out sobs. 

Joel lets out a soft sigh and before you know it, he’s tugging your pliant body into his lap, rubbing your back. He kisses your head. Your head finds the crook of his neck, fingers digging into the back of it. He’s the steady rock he’s always been. It does little to soothe your racing mind. 

You have so many questions and no answers. Tommy’s release from prison always felt like a distant finish line. Now, three months away, it feels like just the start. 

“No matter what, I’ve got you,” Joel says, hand cupping your cheek. “I’m here for you.”

How much longer can you continue to find solace in your brother-in-law's arms? How much longer will Joel play the part Tommy is supposed to? Supporter, parent, partner…

You pull back, fingers still wrapped around his neck. The metal of your wedding ring presses against his skin, but he’s used to feeling it. He doesn’t even think about it anymore. Your forehead nearly touches his. The pools of his deep eyes are endless. They’re different than Tommy’s. You don’t mean to compare, but you like it, soft and inviting after sleeping on rocks for years. You think you catch the hints of desire in them. You’ve forgotten what it feels like to be desired. 

There’s a fight, a push and pull between you. Who’s going to do it. His hot breath fans across your lips. Who’s going to be the one to finally cross the line you’ve been toeing for so long and drag the other one into exile with them? It’s a lush oasis in the middle of the desert you’ve been traveling. One move and you can dip your toe in. 

Joel gives in first, leaning in. Your eyes flutter shut with anticipation, another touch of his breath. His nose nudges against yours. You catch a whiff of the salt on his skin, and then, nothing, a mirage all in your head leaving you stranded in the desert. 

Confusion knits your brow before your eyes are open. Joel is still close, closer than a man that’s not your husband should be, but he feels further away than ever. 

His thumb nudges your bottom lip. He gives a weak smile in an attempt to cover his true emotions. “We can’t…”

He’s right. You hate yourself for getting so carried away. “I know.” 

Your hand drops from his neck. You might be sitting on his lap but he’s never felt farther from you. 

“You should go to bed.”

You think to fight him on it, but you decide not to. You stand up. Joel doesn’t move, thumb playing with the lip of his solo cup. He can’t meet your eyes and it feels like you might be losing him too. 

Before you can think better of it, you lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Your fingers rake through his hair twice over. His eyes close and he lilts into you just the slightest. 

“Thank you, Joel. For everything.”

His Adam’s Apple bobs as you pull away. He keeps his eyes pinned ahead, fingers curling around the red plastic. He’s barely holding on to control. 

“Good night,” he says, voice gruff, never looking away from his fixed point. 

“Goodnight.”

Joel finishes off yours and his margarita before he falls into bed. It’s just enough to keep him buzzed as he runs toward rest. He can’t get the feel of you out of his mind, how close he was to ripping apart his whole family. 

He’s in and out of sleep when the door pops open. He assumes it’s Sarah. She probably had a bad dream, and tosses the corner of the comforter back. Except, the full size mattress dips lower than it should. He reaches out but instead of Sarah’s small frame, he gets a handful of your waist as the smell of you fills his nostrils. In the haze of sleep, Joel opens his eyes just enough to find you facing away from him. 

The bed isn’t big enough for his legs not to tangle with yours, not if he wants restful sleep. Your body doesn’t tense under his touch. You don’t say anything. Neither does he, but your body melts into him until he finds his arm fully around your middle, back flush against his front.

Joel Miller considers himself a good man, but a good man doesn’t yearn for his brother’s wife. A good man doesn’t give into the temptation to have her so close, to be with her so intimately. Tonight, Joel Miller doesn’t worry about being a good man. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but tonight, Joel Miller falls asleep with you in his arms and bed. Tonight, Joel Miller’s deepest desires come true. Just for tonight, he gets to pretend you’re his. 

You wake up to an empty bed like you have since Tommy went to prison, but something feels off about it. A familiar smell lingers under your nose, and unfamiliar warmth fills you even though the sheets are cold.

You let out a soft groan, eyes fluttering open. You stare up at the ceiling, convinced once again that something feels off. You turn to look at the clock on the bed stand but there’s not one there. The walls are a different color and you shoot up as it all comes flooding back. 

You almost kissed Joel last night. The way you tossed and turned before giving into temptation and crawling in beside him. He hadn’t fought you, hadn’t said a word but pulled you flush against him in the bed that was just a bit too small. You’d slept like a baby for the first time in years. 

Joel sits at the table with the kids as they shovel the last of the extra sugary cereal into their mouths. A special vacation treat. You expect Joel to ignore you or at least be standoffish, but he hands you a cup of steaming coffee with the same smile he always does, crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes as if nothing happened. 

You offer a smile in response. A silent agreement to never speak on it again.

You’ve been home for a week when it comes, a plain white envelope stuffed with something soft labeled with a return address you’re all too familiar with written in Tommy’s chicken scratch handwriting. 

You wait until Nathaniel is down for the night, but it throws you the whole evening. Letters from Tommy are more rare than phone calls. You’ve received one, maybe two since he was incarcerated. Considering he’d promised to call on after Father’s day and hadn’t, the mysterious letter makes you feel unsettled. What shoes are left to drop?

You run the envelope through your hands, thumb picking at the corner of the seal, uncommitted to actually tearing it open. You’re worried whatever lies within will only hurt you more. You can’t sustain more hurt. 

Finally, you dig into the corner, tearing it open. Your eyebrows knit together. White fabric is neatly folded and tucked within. You pull it out, revealing a square of white fabric, like a bandana unfurls and a note falls to the floor. As you take in the black and white drawing on the fabric, you gasp. It’s a drawing of the picture you keep on your nightstand. The moment Tommy met Nathaniel for the first time. Tommy’s arm is wrapped around you, Nathaniel in his arms with the biggest grin on his face. It’s a moment that’s seared into your memory. Seeing it portrayed like this brings tears to your eyes, the emotions from that day and the last 696 flooding your body. 

Before the tear completely blur your vision, you pick up the note. You can barely make out Tommy’s handwriting when your eyes are clear, but you manage. 

Baby,

You and I both know I didn’t draw this. My cellmate did based on the photo. You probably know that. They call them paños. I’ve seen a lot of the ones guys in here have sent to their girls. They’re pretty cool. 

I’m sorry. I wish I could be better for you and Nathaniel. I love you, Bonnie. 

Tommy. 

Tears stream down your face. Just like that your heart seems to forget the heartache of the last couple years. This proves that your Tommy is still inside him somewhere, fighting to come back to you. You’ll do anything to have your Tommy back. 

It doesn’t matter if you're grasping at threads. Your heart overpowers your mind. You’re determined that you can pull him back by those threads, maybe not now, but once he’s out. Once he’s out, you can bring him back. You’re his Bonnie. He’s your Clyde. You’re tied together. Your heart beats for him, but you don’t catch a piece of your heart breaking off from the rest. That part can't beat for Tommy. It’s attached to someone else. 

Taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love @justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal @mellymbee @sarahhxx03 @lizzie-cakes @sixhours @duckybird101 @anoverwhelmingdin @nervoushottee @caitlynsixxx @kaykay0315 @stevie75 @millercontracting @cals-laundry @jessthebaker @noisynightmarepoetry @vickie5446 @mewantpeepaw

[todayontumblr]

Friday, October 27.

1989 (Taylor's Version)

Out with the old and in with the new. So long as the old and new are basically the same thing, of course. 2023 is the new 2014. 1989 (Taylor's Version) is the new 1989. Standing and smiling against a pale blue sky, flanked by the seagulls, is the new sepia-toned polaroid shot taken just above the waist and just below the eyes. And @taylorswift is the new @taylorswift. The more things change, the more they stay the same, which is perhaps the best way of understanding eras. They are the same, and they are different.

Well, for you folk who are fans of things that are the different versions of the same thing, y'all would have enjoyed precisely 12 AM EST last night, when Friday became the new Thursday. And when, more importantly, Tay-Tay reblessed the world with the rerelease of a modern-day icon, 1989.

Welcome to 1989. Only this time, it's Taylor's Version. A very happy rerelease day to all who celebrate x

[sweet-s0rr0w]

Happy Valentine's Day to you all! To celebrate, I'm back with another collaborative Drarry reclist, featuring a new lovely bunch of Drarry writers, artists, reccers, and fans!

Once again, the question was: ‘what one or two fics, or scenes, or quotes, represent peak Drarry romance to you?’ and (in what is rapidly becoming a nightmare for me), no duplicates from previous years were allowed. Thank you so much to everyone who took part, I hope you enjoy the results!

You can find part 1 (2022) here, and part 2 (2023) here!

This year's list features answers from: apricitydays-lazynights, arminaa8, drarrymyheart, drarryspecificrecs, hoko-onchi-writes, jtimu, littlewinnow, mallstars, myrtlefics, oflights, peachydreamxx, pl0tty, rainstormradish, romaine2424, squintclover, starquestingfordrarry, thecouchsofa, thedrarrylibrarian, and themiddleofwonderland!

***

@apricitydays-lazynights

💗who will receive you in love's offices by jtimu (E, 30k)

It was a wonder, Draco thought, watching Potter tip back the last remnants of his drink, that the man had survived to adulthood. Not because of the war, or the constant attempts on his life, or surviving two separate killing curses, despite his insistence that he had at some point died, but because there was not a single ounce of self-preservation in his entire body. There couldn’t be. …He glanced over at the potion on the table, and considered, for a fraction of a moment, getting up and pouring those same drops of veritaserum into his own glass. He looked away just as fast, back at Potter, grinning in his chair like they were queuing up for a Quidditch game and not at all like he had just handed his childhood nemesis the keys to his thoughts. “All right,” he said, “first of all. What the ever loving fuck is wrong with you?

@arminaa8

💗My Beautiful Boy by alexmeg (unrated, 69k, sequel to Alucinatio)

"You don't even like boys."

"I didn't know I did. But you," Harry trails off, laughs with his gaze trying to meet the grey of Draco's eyes, a little tremulous with nerves and fear and the way his breath sticks high in his throat like an ache. Draco does look at him, then. "God, you."

💗Seagulls Cause Storms, or the Essence of Chaos by @writandromance (M, 312k)

The stars above them were bright white. It made him think again of the black universe between the constellations, the way he thought people like him held the space for people like Harry to burn hot.

@drarrymyheart

💗The Rewards of Being Loved by @lou-isfake (E, 161k, sequel to The Ordeal of Being Known)

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to make you stop thinking so hard,” Harry replied, grinning mischievously. He placed Draco’s hand on his bare waist, his own hand on Draco’s shoulder. Draco’s lips twitched in a hesitant grin.

“This song is too fast for you to dance to.”

“Only if I’m thinking about it,” Harry retorted, stepping in close. “Is my kitchen too difficult for you to dance in, your highness?”

“Don’t underestimate me, Potter,” Draco murmured, his grin widening as he pulled Harry flush against him, taking his hand. Harry chuckled, waiting for him to lead.”

💗I Do Not Love You by @writandromance (M, 228k)

“The thing is,” Harry said, voice low like all they’d said was public knowledge and this was the secret. “If you’re interested in this, if we pursue this, I’ll be a goner.”

“A goner?” he echoed.

Harry took a lung-filling breath. “Yeah, Draco,” he sighed. “That’ll be it for me. Tony… well, Tony I ended up happy to see go. Miles, I—that was hard in the moment but I was fine. But you… we’re so connected, our lives are so connected, our friends. I don’t want to fuck around, it would be serious, to me. You’re serious to me.”

@drarryspecificrecs

(cause 'Hogwarts 8th year' & 'creature' are among my fave tropes and I really really adore fics where Draco is in trouble but not weak & Harry is already smitten with him)

💗Draco Malfoy, It's Your Lucky Day by @faith2wood (E, 37k)

💗The Arc of the Pendulum by brummell (E, 30k)

@hoko-onchi-writes

💗Half Sick of Shadows by StarQuesting (E, 40k)

(I have a hard time containing myself about dragon tamer Draco, and everyone knows it. I’m about as subtle as a brick when something pings a sweet spot in my brain. But this fic is so much more than a hot, aloof, sex king dragon tamer Draco who has weaver Harry weak in the knees. It is also so very bright and clear in my mind; the visuals are so affecting, just like the creations that Harry weaves. Favorite scene: Harry casually chatting with dragons. 12/10 would be unhinged again.)

💗A pulled down shade by fast_brother (M, 43k)

(I’m not a big crier over fics. Maybe three or four have made me cry this year. This one made me lose it. I think the thing that stands out to me is the visceral capture of emotion. You can feel Draco’s broken heart, and then you can feel Harry’s. I could probably get worked up about it right now. Favorite scene: Draco crying over the broken tea cup. I literally can’t function when I think about it. 12/10 would cry again.)

💗The Brightest Constellations of Our Souls by thecouchsofa (E, 256k)

(I might be cheating since I’m still savoring The Brightest Constellation of Our Souls but I’m including it because it is Peak Drarry Romance. TheCouchSofa always has this intensely brilliant characterization. Harry is heartbreakingly oblivious. Draco is prickly and about as subtle as a brick over pining for Harry. This also features depression!Harry, which has gotta be one of my favorite Harrys. She writes depressed Harry with such delicacy, handling the ins and outs of mental illness and trauma with care, but also making it fucking funny. Favorite scene so far: Harry very casually slipping into conversation that he’s bisexual after he’s been traveling with Draco for an absurd amount of time without mentioning it. And Draco’s ensuing reaction. 12/10 will continue swooning.)

@jtimu

💗Designate / your love as fate by @elskanellis (E, 17k)

💗Lover, Where Do You Live? by @dodgerkedavra (E, 39k)

💗Seven Days in June by @fourth-rose (E, 47k)

@littlewinnow

💗1000 Kisses: #27 First Thing in the Morning, Just After Moving in Together by @deliciouslystickypersona (E, 3k)

Draco trails his fingertips over the flat plane of Harry’s belly, tracing the line of hair up to where it widens over his pectorals. He nuzzles his nose into the curve of Harry’s shoulder, inhaling the sweet, musky, sleepy scent of his skin.

💗Little Love by @ladderofyears (M, 34k)

Harry – who still held Draco’s hand – was gazing at the baby, spellbound by the sight. His whole appearance couldn’t have been prouder, or more loving, had he been Snidget’s natural father. When Harry caught Draco looking at him, he beamed, unashamed of his response.

@mallstars

💗Elaborate, Correct, and Assiduously Observed by peu_a_peu (T, 4k)

Some things were still the same, he thought. Draco was the perfect height for Harry to put his head on his shoulder and rest. That had been secretly true all along, and they’d only had to figure it out.

💗Us, In Lieu by Tepre (E, 30k)

“I . . .” The words jumble in his mouth. His hair is still mostly wet in his neck. He should’ve shaved. He should’ve cleaned his glasses. He should’ve— “I do want you.” And, “Enough,” he adds, then decides no , decides, “Not just enough. More than. More than that.” He licks his lips. “So much more than that.”

💗The Pure and Simple Truth by @letteredlettered (E, 14k)

Malfoy’s eyelashes were visible just above his cheeks, golden and some might have said they should have been darker, but Harry thought that they were perfect. The curve of Malfoy’s jaw, the slant of Malfoy’s throat, that was perfect, too. Malfoy looked up, licked his lips. “I thought you weren’t interested,” he said.

💗The Isle of Ogygia by @citrusses (E, 13k)

The days pass slower, after Potter leaves. Draco tries to fish again, and manages to actually levitate a fish out of the water, but then he Stuns it and it sinks back beneath the waves like a rock, and he doesn’t have any luck retrieving it again. Every day he walks to the top of the lighthouse, casts the right spells, and walks back down. He looks around his room and thinks about where Potter sat.

@myrtlefics

💗Going Postal by dustmouth (125 page comic)

(I am a complete and utter sucker for Dustmouth’s comics and the correspondence and longing and softness of this one make me really happy)

@oflights

💗Yours is the Earth (Hold On, Hold On) by chickenlivesinpumpkin (E, 127k)

(Chapter 11: it's one of my fave proposals in any fic ever/a beautiful love confession/a lovely romantic moment that fits with how the rest of the fic builds up their relationship and all the poor communication and ways they've hurt each other and love each other)

@peachydreamxx

💗to be a bit of warmth (for you) by @softlystarstruck (M, 9k)

Draco stirs in Harry’s arms, mumbling something soft and incoherent, and Harry whispers a wandless spell to completely dim the room lights. If Draco is just seeking comfort, so what? Harry has more than enough to give– it may be the only thing he has left to give– and Draco grounds him, too. Whatever happened on the other side of a war they both went through no longer matters. They’re here, now, and Draco is cold.So Harry will keep him warm.

@pl0tty

💗Tandem by fast_brother (M, 93k)

The handle clicked and the door cracked open, allowing the sound of rain to come into the car. 

“I… thanks,” Harry said. His heart was beating faster. His hands were sweaty.

Draco didn’t back away completely, just enough to be able to look Harry in the eyes. 

“You have to stop that, Harry. Really," he said gravely, as if speaking about a very serious issue. 

“Stop what?” Harry asked stupidly, still holding his breath. 

“You have to stop looking at me like that.”

Harry’s heart traveled all the way up to his throat. 

“I– I can’t,” he blurted out, feeling himself flush with the enormity of what he’d just said.

Draco let out a shocked chortle. He looked away at the street covered in rain, his left hand still resting on Harry’s chair. When he turned back towards Harry, he wasn’t laughing anymore.

He leaned in and kissed Harry on the lips.

💗Matters of the heart by nerakrose (G, 5k)

Today’s breakfast: eggs, toast, tea. I’ve left the sink a mess this week but I’ll do the dishes later. In a way taking these moments to write to you every morning feels like a little quiet refuge or a secret space that nobody else knows about but you. It feels safe here. I miss you. These days I’m missing you more than I’ve ever missed you before and I can’t explain it. Have I reached a breaking point? I don’t know.

Yours,

Harry

💗More Than That by joosetta (E, 11k)

“He was going to kill you,” Potter said, “He said he was going to kill you.”

“He was never going to kill me,” Draco mumbled, “He was up against you for Merlin’s sake. He tried to play quick-curse with Harry fucking Potter.”

Potter was silent for a bit at that, raising a hand up and stroking the back of Draco's head.

“He thought I would help him,” Potter said finally. Draco felt the strangest thing, like a spasm in his face, that left his eyes hot, and his lips shaking. He had to gather himself together again before he could reply.

“Well, he’s never had me suck his cock, so there was no way he could know,” Draco said, instead of he didn’t realise that you loved me. Potter got it anyway, because he laughed, just a little bit. He drew back, and his face was the most frightening and beautiful thing Draco had ever seen.

“You always talk like you give me blow jobs all the time,” he said. “You almost never give me blow jobs, Draco.”

💗Sparks from the Fox’s Tail by khalulu (T, 17k)

And then it was just natural to turn in his arms so they were face to face. Eye to eye, lip to lip, mouth to mouth. Natural to fall into bed together, hands and mouths moving over warm skin, stroking and kissing til they were breathless.

Harry broke off. “Should we think this through?”

“No,” said Draco. “Why did you pull away in the shower?”

“You were so weak then, I didn’t want to take advantage.”

“I was throwing myself at you with what little strength I had. Next time, catch me.”

“I’ve got you,” Harry said, winding himself around Draco. “I’ve got you.”

@rainstormradish

💗Where I see things right by InnerLilith (E, 15k)

(just... absolutely gorgeous handling of a sensitive subject, and I love how the preparation and thoughtfulness is such a big part of the romance. I don't bookmark InnerLilith's fics so much as intermittently go and reread half their back catalogue again. I've loved everything I've read from them.)

💗Help! I'm a Hopeless Romantic by peachydreamxx (M, 15k)

(we watch Harry fall in love with Draco and come to terms with lots of aspects of his life. The little Google searches are just so sweet and tender and I loved, loved loved it. And the ending is so perfect.)

@romaine2424

💗keep driving by @babooshkart (art)

(The romance portrayed in Keep Driving is palpable. Draco is so cool, but from every look, you can see the adoration she has for Harry. And Harry thrives off of the touches between them but also has a confident sense of her own worth. I will never tire of this calming, soft piece depicting a happy, confident, and joyful Drarry. The world is theirs to explore. They'll keep driving.)

💗Never Mind the Bollocks by @the-sinking-ship (E, 119k)

(Never Mind the Bollocks is a new fic from Erised 2023. I loved every moment of it, and Harry having so much fun and feeling like he belonged was everything. However, his drive to right and save all was still there. Chapter 18 brought it all together. I won't say how as the fic is so new, but, for me, it was so romantic with BAMF Harry showing up and Draco trying to be mad. Complete chef's kiss.)

@squintclover

💗 A Secondary Education by Thunderbird587 (E, 235k)

(I remember so vividly the falling in love and the moment when it changed for both of them.)

@starquestingfordrarry

💗The Potter Malfoy bathroom war of 2007 by @andithiel (E, 9k)

(it is peak bathing-comfort)

@thecouchsofa

💗Cut From the Sky by mallstars (E, 150k)

(“Rainy romance’ describes this perfectly. I love how Harry grows to love Draco and never stops going after him once he realises that’s what he wants. This kind of love necessitates an endless amount of patience, but I can’t think of anything more romantic than that – someone coming back time and time again and showing you more grace than you would ever show yourself.)

💗Everything is Relative to You by @thehoneybeet (E, 43k)

(Harry and Draco being each other’s Great Loves in every life going back hundreds of years? I am feral. I cannot be contained. A demonstration of them being perfect for each other in every timeline, through good and bad. This is peak romance at its best.)

@thedrarrylibrarian

💗O Come, All Ye Faithful by @toomuchplor (E, 20k)

(Told through jumps between the past and the present, I adore the way toomuchplor depicts the everyday romance of an established relationship. Too often romance is delegated to big displays of affection, when I think much of romance is in the mundane, routine moments. Listening to your partner share about their day is romantic. Making routine breakfast and coffee is romantic. The intimacy of having an ongoing inside joke about a cat name is unbearably romantic to me. These are the small, everyday moments that the foundations of grand romances are built upon, and this fic was a love note to those moments.)

@themiddleofwonderland (amazuppai)

💗Heal Thyself by astolat (T, 16k)

(it's a classic H/D fic that preserves Draco's prickly personality while still showing him reforming in a very realistic way. It's a slow-burn—Harry isn't really in the first half at all, and when he does show up he's still very suspicious of Draco—but as Draco shows his (new) true colors, Harry can't help that his suspicions turn to curiosity (one of my favorite tropes with reformed Draco fics) especially with the somewhat forced proximity they find themselves in that slowly turns into voluntary and frequent proximity. To me, maybe because of the slow burn, it seems like a very realistic depiction of how Draco could reform himself and how Harry can turn his suspicions into curiosity and eventually more to form a healthy relationship together.)

[jpnriikicore]

Paul Aron as your best friend core

paring paul aron x reader, word count 994, genre fluff, warning roughy translated estonian, authors note sorry, for not releasing this faster i was writing other works for charles and lando <3 ( masterlist )

beach days.

you spend a lot of time on the beach in your free hours lounging around. go off swimming in the ocean. the sun is like a warm blanket wrapped around your body that came fresh out of the dryer. filming him on a cam-recorder when he backflips from a cliff. he somehow tricks you onto the cliff with him occasionally.

late night on the beaches or watching the sunset is the best part. your sides bumping into one another as you walk barefoot along the shoreline feeling the warm sand between your toes and chill seawater slash up onto your ankles. he swings your sandals back and forth from the straps of your sandals since he offered to carry them for you knowing that you hated carrying them yourself. admiring the sunset ahead of you or the moon above you.

boat days.

the sun shone on them basking in it's warmth. a good way to celebrate a podium win for paul. you hit the sea together for a weekend to be still and peaceful in just nothingness. away from his fast life to just have a moment of tranquility together. it’s makes moments like this more special. your legs spread laying onto top of his as your back leans against the comfortable plush white cushions of the boat. his hands soothing rubbing up and down your legs. his pink swimming trunks clad against his thighs after taking a dip into the water. his initials on a chain around your neck.

supporting him during races. through thick and thin and high and lows.

you're always spotted in a secluded corner on the floor of the prema truck. you’re seated together his jacket draped over to you keeping the chill off of you. if qualifying doesn’t go well that day you would sit in comfortable silence whilst reassuring his negative thoughts and feelings through physical touch. your head resting against his shoulder, your slight grazes over his hand, the feeling of you fiddling with his fingers, or the traces on the lines of his palms. just a reminder that everything will be okay. a feathery kiss on the top of his head with a whisper of praise makes him believe that he can do better tomorrow and make all his nerves disappear into thin air.

quality time ( exercise ver. )

you wake up tangled limbs in the sheets of your shared king-sized hotel room bed. the waves crashing on shore was heard from the cracked open balcony doors. seagulls flying around in the early morning blue sky. you vaguely remember him mentioning earlier that morning that he was going for a run before pressing a gentle kiss on your temple before leaving.

some mornings or evenings you would attend runs with him and karl. even staying with him when he works out in the gym maybe getting a mile or two in on the treadmill. he enjoys quality time with you. so, even if you're just sitting crisscrossed on a yoga mat watching him he enjoys it.

he’d convince you that he needs a spotter. even if the weights are a bit too heavy for you and you could help him only very little if you needed too. he still enjoys having your company and letting you feel included. he lightens the load of his weights when you finally do agree on spotting him.

"nii lõbus ei tohiks trennis olla. ( exercise shouldn't be this fun )."

traveling to tallinn and races with him when you can.

traveling around northern italy on a vespa, him driving you around as your arms are wrapped around his torso. towards the end of the night you ride towards a fancy friendship dinner date.

you settled in flimsy chairs on the balcony of your shared hotel room trying out different pastas and slices of pizza from restaurants attempting to find the best one in the country that you’re visiting.

while visiting his home in tallinn he would ensure to bundle you up in thick coats for the cold estonian weather. crunched snow underneath your boots a trail of footsteps in the white left behind you as you take a walk in the snowy weather around midnight.

his siblings.

during, your friendship with paul you’ve become close with his siblings, anna and ralf. anna is like a sister to you. ralf gives you lots of advice and shows embarrassing childhood pictures of paul. which for the record you find oh-so adorable and he finds incredibly embarrassing. you’ve grown expectably close to them due to tagging along on family vacations occasionally since him and his family seem typically fond of your presence. him and his extended family tend to have dinners when his finally back home leading to you practically being apart of his family since you sit in with so many of his family dinners and get to know his close and distant relatives.

"meil peres juba uus ralliäss kasvamas ( we already have a new rally ace growing up in our family )."

teaching you phrases in estonian.

after expressing that you wanted to learn how to speak his native language to speak to his family in the most comfortable way for them and show gratitude towards his parents for raising him the way that they did. he taught you simple phrases, to begin with just enough to get you around his home country without being completely lost.

dino and ollie.

after getting introduced to dino and ollie during the first race you attended with paul you’ve become quick friends with them since it was so easy to speak with them. your often spotted joking around with dino and ollie. just chilling on the floor of the prema truck goofing off with them even walking around the track with them. especially, dancing around with dino to whatever song that plays from his playlist on rainy qualifying days. you was there with the prema team supporting ollie’s debut in formula one.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2024

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Kanye West, legally known as Ye, is selling the Malibu, California home he ruined, for $53M (He bought it for $57M). The house was designed by one of the world’s most eminent architects, Tadao Ando, and Ye stripped it clean of windows, doors, electrical, and many of the architect’s signature interior finishes.

Sitting since 2021, the mansion is now rotting. Wait. This is $53M for a cement shell, basically. The brutalist style home has 1,200 tons of poured concrete and 200 tons of steel reinforcement to hold it all together with 12- 60 ft. pylons sunk into the sand.

The beachside house was once the epitome of artistic ingenuity.

The floor-to-ceiling windows facing the water have long been removed, leaving the rear of the building entirely open to the elements.

All of the interior photos are before it was gutted. The alleged plan was to try to turn the mansion into a “Bat Cave” so he could “hide from the Clintons and Kardashians.”  

Ye’s new celebrity realtor believes the renovations are a selling point b/c he left a blank canvas, making it easier for the new owners to design the home exactly to their liking.  

The house needs windows and doors, along with plumbing, electrical, HVAC and interior finishes, b/c they've all been removed.

Although Ye removed the interior finishes, “this creates an unbelievably rare opportunity to buy a Picasso on the water," said the agent.

“This architect is known for his concrete work, which is what remains,” he says, "It was a very minimalist interior previously and will likely continue to be that in order to allow the architecture to speak louder than the finishes.”

The plan was to go off grid. The contractor said, “Ye wanted no electricity. He only wanted plants, candles, battery lights; and to have everything open and dark. You can’t keep food in that house, because you had no refrigerator left. You had no windows. I had seagulls flying in.” 

The former architectural tour de force was only one of the few private homes in the United States designed by the renowned Pritzker Prize-winning Japanese architect. Best known for his minimalist structures and “smooth-as-silk” concrete.

The upper-level terrace pictured here comes out from a main bedroom suite that takes up the entire top floor.

I don't know what to think. Everything is gone- no utilities, none of the original elements the architect is known for, not even any windows. And, he's only knocked off $4M from what he paid for it, complete.

It's rotting from the inside out. Here's a collapsed concrete wall and rusted railings. On top of all of this, it's unsafe b/c concrete is falling. It's like a total knockdown.

[ur-mag]

Chelsea have pinched £200m of Brighton assets… but if Blues beat Seagulls in Carabao Cup it’ll be a genuine upset | In Trend Today

Chelsea have pinched £200m of Brighton assets… but if Blues beat Seagulls in Carabao Cup it’ll be a genuine upset Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[666writingcafe]

Quick-Fire Headcanons (12)

Asmo will dance in the car while he’s stuck at a traffic light.

Barbatos gets a thrill out of haggling.

Simeon gets mistaken for an employee wherever he goes; it doesn’t help that he basically enables people’s behavior.

Mammon wants to ride all of the rollercoasters at an amusement park.

Diavolo would spend all of his money on carnival games if Barbatos and Lucifer didn’t stop him.

Lucifer is usually so tired that he doesn’t care if his feet stick out of the covers as he sleeps.

People would assume that Solomon is tone deaf, but he actually has near-perfect pitch.

Levi and Diavolo would make excellent DJs.

A little-known fact about Beel is that he’s really good at beatboxing.

Asmo can turn anything into a musical instrument.

Diavolo has a tendency to celebrate anniversaries on the wrong day, but because he’s the Demon Prince, everyone around him simply moves the date of the original anniversary to whatever day he wants to celebrate it.

When Cerberus was a puppy, Lucifer took lots of pictures of him and showed them to everyone he knew.

Mammon has volunteered to help with someone’s event before, but then turns around and sends them a bill, demanding that they pay him for his service.

Asmo has mailed envelopes full of glitter to his enemies before.

Satan and Simeon both have binders full of essays on why they were right, but only Satan will crack his open to use in an argument.

Mammon and Asmo draw on the chalkboard when the teacher is out of the room.

Barbatos and Lucifer are certified in Devildom first aid training.

Simeon once mowed Purgatory Hall’s yard at 1 am as he was sleepwalking (scaring Luke and Solomon in the process).

Belphie will often leave new rolls of toilet paper on top of the toilet, much to the chagrin of all of his brothers and MC.

Beel cannot have any drinks in Styrofoam cups because he will squeeze the cup so hard that he punctures it and loses his drink.

Simeon and Lucifer still have the default background for both their computer and phone.

Solomon would feed seagulls (and other birds) laxatives.

Luke really likes pancakes, especially the ones that look like cartoon characters.