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academicdisasterfic · 2 months ago
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h/d microfic: the weekend by sza
The first in a little Spotify wrapped x Drarry microfic venture I’m doing this December; hence my 55th most played song this year and first attempt at infidelity. Kind of loved it tbh.
Warning: infidelity
Draco’s feral by the time his doorbell rings.
‘Sorry,’ Harry says. He’s still in his Ministry robes, and he smells like the Leaky.
‘Get in, then,’ Draco says coolly, although not coolly enough, because Harry smirks and pulls Draco in by the front of his cashmere jumper, straining the wool, and slamming him against the wall.
‘Thought about this all week,’ Harry whispers.
It’s the usual: they fuck once in the living room, then go to the bed, sweaty bodies intertwined on the silk sheets, kissing lazy and luxurious. Harry looks down at where Draco came over his stomach and swears, drags his fingers through it and offers it to Draco.
‘Look at your mess,’ he says, raising an eyebrow.
Draco keeps eye contact, swallows down three of Harry’s thick, calloused fingers, and sucks off his wedding band. He spits it across the room, aware that Harry is suddenly and alarmingly hard again.
‘I like mess, Potter.’
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sicknessinmotion · 1 year ago
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HUMANITY WILL HURT YOU & LOVE YOU & CRY WITH YOU; ON THE WORLD LOVING YOU
the good place // unknown author // sally rooney // judas h. (@judas-redeemed) // coldplay // unknown
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title: my disappearing secret
pairing: toby hawthorne x hannah rooney
synopsis: hannah thought she’d never see her toby again, he’d left her once, then twice but maybe just maybe third time’s a charm
warnings: SPOILERS FOR GAMES UNTOLD!!
a/n: for @lila-77 merry christmas my love!! 🎄❤️🤍💚
taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @eternal--dream @shattered-glass-roses
She felt his gaze before she even turned around. But it couldn’t really be him, could it? She thought she might be making it all up in her mind, yet she still whispered his name aloud, just incase maybe this time she wasn’t fantasising, incase this time he was actually there.
“Harry?”
There was one beat. Disappointment flooded through her, of course he wasn’t there. She’s been stupid to think it. Massaging her temples she carried on with her job. Then there was a second beat. ‘He’s not coming back Hannah’ she silently reminded herself.
“Hannah.”
Her heart almost stopped beating as all the oxygen was robbed from her lungs. She spun around, she had to see if it was real or whether it was all a voice inside her head. With a soft gasp, she could only stare and question whether or not she was hallucinating.
There he stood, sparkling green eyes, tall laid back figure, grinning like the first day she’d ever set eyes on him. He looked thinner than she would’ve liked him to, dark circles under his eyes. She wondered when the last time he had a proper meal was or when last he slept through the night. But she stopped herself from asking because that would waste their time and she’d learnt that time was all too precious.
“Same forwards as it is backwards,” he finished, a Hawthorne smile if she ever saw one, dancing across his lips.
Hannah was still at a loss for words, which wasn’t a lot like her in front of him. Toby Hawthorne was stood in her kitchen. She’d fantasised for something like this to happen, wished on dandelion clocks and birthday cake for a moment like this and now it was here.
Only she was less relieved than she thought she might be and more panicked. What was going on? Why was he here? Why now? Her brain raced through every worst case possible scenario. But then, for a minute she silenced her thoughts and let go of caring why and took in the moment. He was here. The rest didn’t matter. He was here.
“Harry,” she exhaled shakily.
“You already said that,” he replied, taking a step closer.
Every cell in her body burned with a sudden starvation. A desire born from a sheer desperation to be in his arms. She wanted to feel his touch, she craved it. Hannah couldn’t think of anything better than for him to scoop her up and run away from the rest of the world, even if it were all just for a second.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out suddenly.
His lips twisted into a strange sort of smile, “do you want another postcard?”
She almost smiled back. Almost.
She folded her arms, “what are you doing here?” she asked again, her tone more demanding, reminding them both of her sharpness she’d once had with him as teenagers.
“Come on Hannah I thought you were meant to be astute,” he grinned, that twinkle in his eye as he cocked his head to the side, “don’t tell me that’s gone downhill after all these years.”
“You can’t avoid the question forever,” she told him.
“Why ask when you already know the answer,” he asked quietly, taking another step towards her, “I love you Hannah, I always have and I always will. I needed to see you, your face, your eyes, your everything. It was killing me not to.”
“Then you have no idea what it was doing to me,” she murmured, tilting her chin up slightly to truly meet his eyes.
His pupils slowly dilated, swallowing up the green of his iris like a malnourished lion would a human corpse.
“I love you,” he told her again, his voice strong and steady.
“I love you too,” she said, letting her hands trail up his torso until they met at the back of his neck.
“Do you still hate me,” Toby asked her, “for the way I left you, both times?”
Hannah could only chuckle, “always, but love does something funny to the hate.”
“How poetic,” he teased, snaking an arm around her waist.
“Well we both know how much you like your poems,” she murmured, melting into his touch.
It felt so natural, so right. As if this was how they were always meant to be. He softly brushed his lips over hers and something ignited. Neither had tasted each it in such a long time, they’d almost forgotten how much they craved it.
The kisses began to get rougher, more passion and fire behind the movement. Hannah had her hand buried deep in his hair, clutching at chunks and tugging them every which way. It was love on a deeper level, intense and rash. Toby’s finger squeezed tighter around her waist in an attempt to pull her even closer into him, though it wasn’t possible. It was the kind of kiss that made you forget you even existed, that made you forget anything existed, that made you forget you had to breathe until your lungs were screaming at you, begging for oxygen.
“I want my postcard,” she said, breathlessly against his lips.
He smirked, amused by the way annoyance flashed across her perfect face, “impatient, are we?”
And for a moment it felt like they’d never been apart, like the years of constant yearning and dreaming and praying had never even happened. It felt like they’d been together through it all, like Toby had never left that night in the lighthouse and never left that night in the hospital either.
“Come on Hawthorne and give me the damn postcard,” she replied, between kisses, “I want it.”
“Sometimes we don’t get what we want,” he taunted, taking her face into his hands slowly pressing a kiss on her forehead, then on the bone when her eyebrow met her nose, moving down to each of her eyes closed eyes and the tip of her nose. They were so soft, so delicate they almost tickled. He met her lips again before slowly trailing down to her jawline, neck and collarbone.
“I do,” she replied, a flicker of determination in her eyes and a fluttering in her stomach, “I get what I want.”
Toby bit his lip. Hannah Rooney, the girl he’d fallen in love with, the girl he’d never fall out of love with.
“Let’s play a game,” he said, “if you win, the postcard is all yours.”
Her eyes flickered to the clock hung on the wall. The minute hand was moving far too fast for her liking.
“Do we have enough time?” she asked, lips tingling still, “Avery will be coming home soon.”
“Avery,” he repeated tipping his head back smiling. He savoured her name on his tongue, “how is she?”
“She’s incredible,” Hannah beamed, wishing she could tell him every little thing about her, “she’s kind and sweet and caring and she’s so intelligent Harry.”
“No doubt she got all of her mother’s genes then,” he replied, placing his hands on her waist and pulling her in.
Heat crept up into Hannah’s cheeks. Of course he still managed to make her blush.
“She’s so big now,” she told him, “so much bigger than the last time you saw her.”
He raised an eyebrow, “bold of you to assume I don’t keep a closer eye on her.”
A tender hand squeezed Hannah’s heart, “you do?”
“When I can,” he shrugged, “she’s growing up to look so much like you Hannah, but she’s got Kaylie’s smile.”
He grazed her cheek with his knuckle, so gently it felt like he was barely touching her. Bittersweetness washed over Hannah like an overbearing tidal wave of feeling.
“I’m going to make sure she goes as far as she wants with her life,” she said quietly, trying to keep the emotion from seeping into her voice, “give her all the opportunities me and Kaylie didn’t have.”
“And you will,” Toby whispered, “you’re good like that.”
“She’s going to go far,” Hannah told him shakily, her eye blurring a little.
She was sure of it.
“I don’t have a doubt about it,” he replied hoarsely.
And so was he.
Her heart ached, weighted with the words she thought in her every waking hour. The words she wished for so long she could tell him. The words she thought she’d never get the opportunity to say to his face ever again.
“I miss you,” Hannah whispered, so quietly she wasn’t even sure if he’d heard her.
“I miss you too,” he replied in almost an instant.
Of course he heard her. He always did. Even when there was nothing to say. He just knew.
“He hasn’t found you, has he?” she asked, searching and scanning every line of his face for an indication of an answer.
They both know who ‘he’ was, the instant she said it. But she had to ask. The worry alone was intoxicating her internal organs, contorting them into funny shapes like some sort of psychotic balloon animal.
“Not yet,” he said firmly, “at least I don’t think so.”
“Good,” she nodded, “that’s good.”
Hannah stared at him for a long while and he only stared right back. She wanted Avery to meet him, to be able to call him ‘dad’, she wanted Avery to know about this wonderful man she loved in hopes she might find one equally as kind and as selfless and as genuine. And for a second she wondered if she might dare ask him one last time to stay with her. She wondered if maybe this time he might say yes.
“I can’t hide here Hannah,” he whispered.
Toby read her like an open book, he knew her mind like he knew his own. He also knew the risks she’d be willing to take for him and he wouldn’t let it happen.
She smiled a little sadly, “how can you read my mind?”
“Call it a talent,” he shrugged, with a wink.
“Why Harry,” she asked, her voice so small it scared him, “after everything you’ve been through, just come home.”
She touched the left side of her chest with her hand, her heart throbbing underneath. He belonged here. Hannah knew it in her bones. He belonged with her and Avery, here.
“He’d know,” he shook his head, “he’d hurt you, he’d hurt Avery.”
Hannah sighed, “so why now? Why decide to come and see me now?”
“Well I-“
A locked clicked, a handle turned and the front door swung open, “Mum you’ll never believe it! I won the science award!”
Hannah’s eyes went wide as she tore her gaze from his and rushed to greet her daughter, leaving Toby in the kitchen. He dared to stand in the doorway and silently watch as Hannah wrapped her gentle arms around Avery and congratulated her. He saw the exact moment Avery’s eye lit up in joy, happy with herself and her achievement.
Pride swelled in his chest and a few tears sprung to his eyes. Avery, his Avery had won the science award in school. He wanted nothing more than to embrace her tightly and tell her how special she truly was. How she was so like he mother and more, how he loved her to the moon and back, how he’d protect her until he was a gravestone stood in a churchyard.
But he knew what he had to do now. It had been a risk even coming at all. Even though he knew it had been coming, Toby had never been good at goodbyes. Glossy eyed with a twisting agony in the left side of his chest, he took one final look at his wonderful Avery and his beautiful Hannah. The brightest sparks he’d ever seen in his life.
“I got this certificate and everything,” Avery beamed, showing off the piece of paper.
“That’s amazing sweetheart!” Hannah said, stealing a glance back towards the kitchen.
She already knew he was gone, just like she knew when he was there. But she had to check. She hoped she was wrong, that her feeling was off but it wasn’t. It never was. Hannah didn’t know why it still hurt when she discovered he wasn’t still there. She wasn’t losing something she had.
“And I even got this medal,” Avery continued, snapping her out of the haze and bringing her back to reality. She had a daughter and a life. She had something to focus on. And even if Toby wasn’t physically there, he was there in her heart, “and Mrs Gray told me that I’m one of the best science students she’d seen of my age for years!”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Hannah smiled kissing her forehead gently, “well done sweetie, I’m so proud of you. Should we put your certificate on the fridge?”
Avery nodded enthusiastically and went to get a magnet from the drawer. Suddenly she came to a halt and with a confused look picked up a rectangluar piece of card, furrowing her little eyebrows.
“Mum?” she asked curiously, “why is there a postcard on the counter?”
Hannah felt her heart rate pick up. He left her the postcard. Of course he had.
She looked around to Avery and bit back a smile, “let’s play a game Ave.”
“What kind of game?” she asked, folding her arms.
“One of our usual ones, it’s called I Have A Secret.”
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frenchnewwaves · 1 year ago
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Normal People
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reverie-quotes · 5 months ago
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He has sincerely wanted to die, but he has never sincerely wanted Marianne to forget about him. That’s the only part of himself he wants to protect, the part that exists inside her.
— Sally Rooney, Normal People
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littlemisscannonball · 3 months ago
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He started telling her that he loved her. It just happened, like drawing your hand back when you touch something hot.
— Sally Rooney, Normal People
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perfectquote · 6 months ago
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Marianne had the sense that her real life was happening somewhere very far away, happening without her, and she didn't know if she would ever find out where it was or become part of it.
Sally Rooney, Normal People
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thebookquotes · 9 months ago
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Marianne had the sense that her real life was happening somewhere very far away, happening without her, and she didn't know if she would ever find out where it was or become part of it.
Sally Rooney, Normal People
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quotefeeling · 9 months ago
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Marianne had the sense that her real life was happening somewhere very far away, happening without her, and she didn't know if she would ever find out where it was or become part of it.
Sally Rooney, Normal People
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kitchen-light · 2 years ago
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The fact that erotic attraction in Austen’s work is forced out of language—sublimated into ambiguous gestures and looks and seemingly innocuous speech acts—constitutes in very large part the drama of her narratives. In a sense, then, it is from the unavailability of language that the tensions of the novel arise. We might propose the novel as a kind of book in which the most important subject cannot be spoken about. The genius of Jane Austen’s technical achievement is apparent not only in her wide readership but in her formal legacy. Austen’s narrative structures, her command of pacing, her perspectival techniques, her staging of small knowable social worlds: these are the basic ingredients of what we would now call the novel as a form.
Sally Rooney, from her essay/lecture “Misreading Ulysses”, published in The Paris Review, December 7, 2022
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reedgs · 4 months ago
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I don't know what's wrong with me, says Marianne, I don't know why I can't be like normal people
—Sally Rooney, Normal people
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academicdisasterfic · 1 month ago
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h/d microfic: the bomb by florence and the machine
part of my drarry x spotify wrapped venture: you can read the previous one here.
Seven years, and every Christmas Eve is the same.
Draco thinks he could recite each line and direction perfectly by now - how Harry will Owl him to say he’s back in town, he’ll suggest the same pub they always go to, and Draco will meet him there. They’ll be awkward until they sit close in the booth, legs pressing together, and Harry will say how’s your mother and Draco will tell him honestly, the way he doesn’t do with anyone else.
They’ll go back to Draco’s and touch each other’s bodies gently, sweetly, laughing tipsily and making jokes until they’re too far gone for that—and then, a night spent tucked up around each other, until Harry has to leave for the Burrow, and he tells Draco he’s got to be back in New York by Boxing Day. 
Okay, Draco will say, I’ll write, and then he never does.
Always the same, punctuating each year of Draco’s thirties, so predictable that it’s almost not painful anymore.
Except this year, after they wake up and Harry says he has to go to the Burrow, he pulls his pants on and smiles at Draco in a way he never has before.
‘Can I come back tonight?’
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divsere · 6 months ago
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Toby Hawthorne Masterlist:
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toby x reader
coming soon
toby x hannah
my disappearing secret
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sicknessinmotion · 1 year ago
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YOU LOVE LOVE LOVE THE WORLD & IT FINALLY LOVES YOU BACK; ON HUMANITY
cinders // tumblr user starei // dead poets society // sally rooney // duane l. herrmann // sense8 // judas h.
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reverie-quotes · 3 months ago
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You can drive yourself crazy thinking about the different things you could have done in the past.
— Sally Rooney, Intermezzo
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