#festival knickers

[ahqkas]

♯ PRACTICE MAKES IT BETTER ; theodore nott

PAIRING! theodore nott x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! struggling with the local slang, you feel out of place until you meet theodore nott, the silent slytherin (based off this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 2.3k

WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, kissing + lmk !

NOTES! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

AMERICA WAS VIBRANT AND DIVERSE. The music scene was thriving with genres like grunge, hip-hop, and pop dominating the airwaves. To you, it was a place of contrasts and boundless possibilities. It was a land where towering skyscrapers stood next to historic buildings, and where you could find everything from bustling cities to quiet, open countryside. The diversity was striking; every state feels like its own little world, with different cultures, foods, and ways of life. It was a country where you could experience all four seasons, with hot summers, cold winters, and vibrant springs and autumns. The sheer size and variety made it feel like there was always something new to explore, whether it was a national park, a music festival, or just a quirky little town.

Then you moved to England.

Leaving behind the familiar sights and sounds of America, you stepped into a new world of magic and centuries-old traditions.

The first thing you noticed was the climate change. England's weather was full of frequent rain and cloudy skies. You had to get used to bringing an umbrella everywhere with you.

Hogwarts in Scotland was completely different from Ilvermorny, which resided on Mount Greylock. The towering buildings of the castle intimidated you a bit as you were used to the more modern school, but you were excited for the change of scenery.

The stone corridors, moving staircases, and enchanted portraits had captivated your imagination. The castle itself was full of new discoveries. Sure, you missed your old friends dearly, every one of them, but the owls worked hard and you managed to make new friends here.

As an exchange student from America, walking the hallowed halls of Hogwarts was a totally new experience. The ancient castle with its sprawling grounds, enchanted staircases, and hidden passageways was like stepping into a dream. But it wasn't just the magical environment that threw you off balance; it was the British slang that seemed to pop up in every conversation.

During your first week, you found yourself constantly bewildered by the new expressions. At breakfast, when a cheerful Hufflepuff asked if you wanted a "banger" with your eggs, you hesitated, unsure if it was an insult or a menu item. When a Ravenclaw mentioned being "knackered" after a long night of studying, you had to suppress a laugh, thinking it sounded more like a sound effect from a comic book than an expression of exhaustion.

The confusion was endless: "snogging" instead of kissing, "knickers" instead of underwear, "blimey" instead of a simple exclamation of surprise. You did your best to keep up, but the nuances of the language often left you feeling like you were missing the punchline of a joke. To put it simply, you were lost.

One afternoon, you were sitting in the library, poring over a stack of books for a Transfiguration assignment, when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Ciao, piccola," Theodore Nott drawled, sliding into the seat across from yours. His presence was effortlessly welcomed, with his cool demeanor and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He was a strange boy at first, never letting anyone, but when you warmed up to him, he was a totally new person.

"Hi, Theo," you greeted him with a smile playing on your lips. Theodore had been one of the first students to approach you, his Italian heritage a surprising connection. He often teased you in his native language, enjoying the way you fumbled with the unfamiliar phrases. A nuisance, that he was.

"Come va la tua giornata?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. ("How's your day doing?")

Already hearing this phrase a few times, you learned to understand its translation. With a sigh, you ran a hand through your hair. "It's been . . . interesting. I'm still trying to understand half of what everyone says here."

Theo chuckled, the sound rich and warm to your ears. "British slang getting to you?"

"You could say that," you admitted, leaning back in your chair as you watched his amusement at your misery. "I feel like I need a translator just for conversations."

"Well, if you think British slang is confusing, wait until I teach you some Italian slang," Theo smirked at the idea that appeared on his mind. "It's a whole different level."

Now this got your attention. "Teach me, then. It can't be that difficult from the British slang."

Over the next few weeks, Theodore Nott became your informal language tutor. He started with simple phrases, weaving them into everyday conversations until you began to pick them up naturally. He taught you how to greet someone with "Ciao, amico!" instead of a formal "Buongiorno," and how to say "Andiamo!" when you were ready to go.

One rainy afternoon, as you sat together in the Great Hall, Theo decided to test your knowledge. The rain tapped persistently against the high, arched windows, casting a muted gray light across the large hall. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the sky outside, swirling with dark clouds and flashes of lightning that illuminated the space completely. Despite the dreary weather, the Great Hall buzzed with the soft hum of student conversations, punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the rustling of pages.

Theo, seated across from you at the Slytherin table, leaned back casually, a mischievous glint in his eye. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, framing his sharp features. You had grown accustomed to his teasing, the way he delighted in challenging you with phrases in Italian, watching with amusement as you thought through the unfamiliar language. Today was no different, his eyes scanning the hall as if seeking inspiration for his next test.

You had been in the midst of revising for an upcoming Charms exam, your notes spread out around you in a chaotic array of parchment and textbooks. The soft light from the floating candles above cast a warm glow on the pages, making the ink shimmer slightly. As Theo's gaze returned to you, you knew another one of his lessons was coming.

"What would you say if you were really tired?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Theo's questions were always a blend of practical and playful, designed to push you just a little further each time. He spoke with the ease of someone completely comfortable in his skin, his words flowing like the rain outside, steady and sure. His Italian phrases, though foreign at first, began to weave themselves into the mind of your understanding.

Your responses grew more confident, the hesitation in your voice diminishing with each passing day. You found yourself thinking in Italian at times, the language slipping into your thoughts as naturally as your own. Theo's delight was evident, his eyes lighting up whenever you got something right, his praise sincere and heartfelt.

The rain outside showed no signs of letting up, but within the Great Hall, a warmth lingered.

You thought for a moment, then confidently replied, "Sono stanca morta." The phrase rolled off your tongue more smoothly than before, each syllable a small victory in your journey to master his native language. The meaning — "I'm dead tired" — was all too familiar after long days filled with classes and studying.

Theo laughed, the sound rich and genuine, echoing softly in the near-empty Great Hall. His laughter was like a reward, a confirmation that you were getting it right. Silver eyes sparkled with approval, the corners of his lips curling into a smile that made your heart flutter. The warmth of his reaction was comforting against the dreary, rain-soaked afternoon outside.

"Well done!" His voice was filled with genuine pride and delight, making you feel accomplished. His praise was never out of place; it was always heartfelt.

Your heart swelled with a mix of pride and joy. Learning Italian was not just about understanding a new language, but also about bridging the gap between your worlds. Each phrase, each word, was a step closer to understanding Theo better, and a way to connect on a deeper level.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching yours, waiting for your next move. "And if you wanted to compliment someone on a job well done?" His question was another gentle challenge, pushing you to dig deeper into your newfound vocabulary.

"Bravo!" you answered without hesitation. The word felt natural, a perfect fit for the context. As you spoke, you couldn't help but smile, the simple word carrying a world of meaning and mutual respect. Seeing the approval in Theo's eyes, you felt a surge of confidence.

Theo's smile broadened, and his expression softened with pride and admiration. The approval in his eyes was more than just about your grasp of the language; it was about your willingness to immerse yourself in something new, to share a part of his heritage, to make an effort to connect.

The atmosphere around you felt lighter, the earlier tension of the day's studies dissolving into a shared moment of triumph and connection. The Great Hall, with its towering windows and ancient stone walls, seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little world of language and laughter.

The candles above flickered gently, casting a warm glow that danced across Theo's features, highlighting the pride in his eyes.

One day, as you walked together by the Black Lake, the cold water reflecting the moody sky, Theo turned to you, his expression thoughtful. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient trees that lined the shore, their branches swaying rhythmically as if in silent conversation. The scene was picturesque, the expanse of the lake stretching out before you, a serene contrast to the bustling life within the castle walls. It was quiet out here, and you liked this spot.

"You know, you've picked up Italian slang faster than I expected," Theo remarked, his voice carrying a hint of admiration and surprise. His thoughtful tone blended seamlessly with the natural sounds around you, creating a moment of perfect harmony.

You laughed, the sound bright and carefree, echoing across the still waters. Nudging him playfully, you replied, "Maybe I had a good teacher." The playful banter was a reflection of the easy camaraderie that had developed between you, a testament to the countless hours spent learning and laughing together.

Theo's smile softened at your words, a tender expression that seemed to light up his face. His gaze lingered on you, the depth of his affection and pride evident in his eyes. The way he looked at you made your heart flutter, each shared glance made your knees tremble. Like you were the only girl at Hogwarts.

"Maybe," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with a warmth that enveloped you. "Or maybe you just have a knack for languages." His words were a gentle compliment, a recognition of your efforts and abilities.

The path around the Black Lake was peaceful, the occasional ripple disturbing the otherwise mirror-like surface of the water. The air was crisp and fresh, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and damp earth. As you walked side by side, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, the rest of the universe fading into the background.

Your footsteps synchronized, a silent dance of familiarity and comfort. The conversations flowed effortlessly, alternating between Italian lessons and shared dreams, each word weaving a tapestry of understanding and companionship. Theo's presence was a constant, steady and reassuring, his thoughtful insights and quiet encouragements a source of strength.

The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the landscape. The twilight hues painted the sky in shades of pink and orange, a breathtaking sight that added to the magic of the moment. Theo's silhouette against the backdrop of the setting sun was a picture of serenity and quiet strength, a reminder of the stability he brought into your life.

Before you could fully process what was happening, the Slytherin boy took a small step closer, closing the distance between you. The warmth of his presence enveloped you, his proximity sending a gentle thrill through your body. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours, the touch sending a spark of electricity up your arm.

In that moment, with the golden light of dusk casting a magical glow around you, Theo leaned in. His movements were deliberate, filled with a tender hesitation. As his lips met yours, the world seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of pure, unadulterated connection.

The kiss was gentle at first, a soft press of lips that spoke everything you needed to know. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the gentle caress of his hand against your cheek — it all combined to create a sensation that was both exhilarating and deeply comforting.

Theo's hand moved to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. The kiss deepened, becoming more confident, more insistent. Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. The connection between you intensified, the kiss becoming a language of its own, expressing everything words couldn't.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. The world slowly came back into focus, the sounds of nature reasserting themselves around you. Theo's eyes, still holding that mix of affection and awe, met yours. A soft, contented smile played on his lips.

"Grazie, Theo," you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude.

"For what?" he asked confused, his brow furrowing slightly.

"For being patient with me. For this. For . . . everything."

Theo's eyes softened, and he reached out, intertwining your fingers in one. "No worries," he replied, his voice just as soft. "I'm glad I could help."

[sim0nril3y]

12 Days of Kinkmas | Day Four: Voyeurism

Note: It's day threeeee of our Kinkmas and I'm not super happy about this one, but I hope you guys enjoy it! Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, oral (m recieving), voyerurism, canon-typical swearing.

If there was one thing that Simon hated it was parties. They were excruciating. It didn’t matter what they were for because Simon hated all of them. This one that you had was up there as one of the worst ones yet. It was in an enormous house, decorated in tacky Christmas decorations that probably cost a fortune, there was festive music flowing through the walls and a spread of food that even was on theme.

It was the party of one of your friends, you had told him that they were well off but he hadn’t imagined anything like this. Simon had grimaced as you tugged him from one friend to another, greeting them happily, introducing him briefly, you knew that Simon didn’t want to make small talk. No, all he wanted to do was drink beer and get through the night. This whole thing was hell for him, but at least he had your angelic form to gaze on.

After hours of dithering, you had decided on a sparkly festive dress that was very on theme of the party. You looked fucking delicious. Honestly, it was a miracle you’d made it out the door with the way that Simon had been pawing at your body before leaving the house, he’d wanted to get in your knickers before even getting there, but you’d reminded him that you’d be late-late, not just fashionably late and that was something that Simon’s wouldn’t abide.

So, instead he was forced to simply stand back, observing and ogling your body and nod whenever a question was directed at him. With a hearty swig he finished the dregs of his beer and held the empty bottle usefully by his side. “There are more beers in the kitchen. I need another one too.” You announced, slotting your hand into his own and pulling him along. “How’re you holding up, babe?” You quizzed, entering he kitchen and thankful it was empty and quieter than the rest of the house.

Nabbing him a beer, you handed it to him and after taking a swig Simon asked. “How much longer do we need to be here?” Slipping an arm around your waist to tug you forward into his chest. “Wanna get home so I can get this fuckin’ outfit off you…” He commented, rubbing his hands against the sparkly material.

A smirk played on your lips for a moment, as if devising a plan. “Well… we’ve only been here a few hours, so we’ll need to stay a little longer, but…” Glancing around, the room was empty and the door was closed. “Maybe this will help…” You commented, shimmying down the straps of your dress and allowing your tits to spill free, exposing them so that Simon groaned lowly. “Trust me, that really doesn’t help the problem, babe.”

“Mmm… sorry…” You muttered, although there was very little remorse to your voice as your hand slipped between your bodies and cupped him through his jeans, through the material you could feel him rock hard against your hand. “Babe, you’re so hard~” You whisper up at him before over your shoulder again to check for any prying eyes.

A moment later, you took Simon’s hand and tugged it across to the pantry, opening the door and pushing him inside into the confined dark space. “What are you doing?” Simon asked, feeling the way you knelt to the ground, plucking at his jeans as you answered. “I’m giving you an early Christmas present~” Then opening his jeans and pulling them down enough to allow his cock to spring free. “Maybe this will be enough to get you through the party…”

You wasted no time, spitting lewdly into your hand and using it to jerk his cock languidly, gazing up through the dimly lit room at him. Like normal, Simon was stoic and quiet, but you could just about hear his breathing getting hard, little groans in the back of his throat and then finally his voice bit into the darkness. “Be a good girl for me…” His hand braced on the back of your head. “Put it in your mouth. Yeah?”

Following his command, you simply sunk him into your mouth, humming sweetly as you suckled on the head of his cock, hand stroking the rest of him. “Don’t be a tease.” He commented. “You and I both know you can take more of my fat cock than that.” He grumbled and you smirked as you sank more of his cock into your throat.

You were humming and bobbing your head on his cock, eyes fluttered closed as you concentrated on your job for giving Simon pleasure. “Good girl.” He whispered, fingers knotting into your hair. “Good girl.” He panted, beginning to guide your head by winding your tresses, forcing you up and down on his cock, finding his own rhythm and causing you to gag a few times as you adjusted. “My good fuckin’ girl letting my fuck her pretty throat…”

Simon groaned and grunted as he used you for his pleasure, gazing down at your pretty face as he fucked it. He hummed lowly, fucking himself a little faster and smiling to himself at the small gagging and grunting sounds that spilled from your mouth as his actions grew more frantic, Simon was just about to open his mouth to speak when he heard. “… do you know where they are?” His eyes widened looking towards the closed pantry door, people were on the other side, Simon was reminded in that moment that a joyful Christmas party was going on behind those walls.

“The beers? They are over here…” A voice responded to the first one and footsteps move around then. Simon hissed, looking down as you continued to bob your head even as he had stopped all movement, squeezing his eyes closed and leaning his head back. “More people here than I was expecting…” The voice uttered as a few beers popped open. “Yeah, it’s a good turn out.” Simon let out a soft grunt as he suddenly emptied down your throat, bracing his hand against the shelves. “Did you hear something?” “Hear what? All I hear is my favourite Christmas song, come on!” Simon’s fussy mind took note that the voices disappeared in a quick movement to return to the party happily.

Once the coast was clear you and Simon stepped back outside, leading you from the kitchen and grabbing another beer. He brushed down the wrinkles on his outfit and turned back to you then. His eyes widened at his state of you. Your dress was ruffled, your make-up smeared, mouth swollen, you were flushed and clammy looking. “Love, I think we may need to go home…” Simon stepped towards you helping straighten your closed. “What? Why?” You asked.

“Because if any of your friends see you they are gonna know you’re a filthy girl who just gave head to her boyfriend at a Christmas party.” He commented, pulling off his coat and putting it around your shoulders before carefully trying to clean your face of smudged make-up. “Plus, the sooner I get you home, the sooner I get to fuck you into our mattress.”

12 Days of Kinkmas | Regular Masterlist | Ask | 17-12-2023

[drarryspecificrecsdaily]

2023.12.03

Complete fics posted on AO3 this day

1. Bought and Paid For by @jtimu [E, 10k]

►Harry runs his fingers across the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up to his forehead. “Are you telling me that you bid a thousand galleons for the pleasure of my company-” [...]

2. Dark Artistry by @sightedkarma [E, 26k]

►Draco Mallory liked his life after the war, in his little flat in Brighton, with his group of muggle friends and a career that let him put something beautiful out in the world. He'd left the Malfoy name and baggage behind years ago and created something new for himself to be proud of. That was until Harry Potter had to show up, covered in ink, and bring it all back.

3. dueling is their foreplay by tinaakitten [T, 2k]

►“Oh, sorry,” Harry teased. “Did I not tell you? We duel to submission, and I don’t recall saying I was done.” /// Auror partners Draco and Harry have a quick surprise duel in the training room.

4. Predicting the Present by @xx-thedarklord-xx [T, 7k]

►Malfoy—of all people—was the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, and Harry didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. “Professor Malfoy said we’ll be learning the basics on how to cast a Patronus!” Oh really? That, Harry had to see.

5. scarves by @anticomedygarden [T, 1k]

►Harry and Draco have fun at a winter festival. That's it.

6. Tickling the Ivories by @annanother-thing [E, 5k]

►Harry has a misbehaving magical piano, a very pushy best friend, and a very unexpected afternoon. feat. Hermione doing what Hermione does best (sorting Harry's life out), Harry's vivid imagination, and Draco's green lacy knickers

---

Fest/Exchange

1. An accidental courtship by Anonymous [E, 6k]

►“The courtship starts with the offering of a single burgundy rose at exactly seven days before the winter solstice. The courtee may formally accept the continuation of the courtship – if they wish – by placing a single kiss on the flower.” ★ Harry/Draco Owlpost 2023 | @hdowlpost

2. A Christmas in Heat by Anonymous [E, 3k]

►Despite all odds, Harry and Draco become friends while working at the Ministry. Their friendship is very intense, and the need they have for each other takes them both by surprise. Then, one day, Harry begins to desire Draco in a way that frightens him. [...] ★ Harry/Draco Owlpost 2023 | @hdowlpost

3. Elf Affairs and Unwrapped Hearts by @picklesonjupiter [M, 1k]

►As Harry reluctantly takes on the role of a mall elf during the holiday season, he finds unexpected camaraderie with Malfoy, another elf, whose civil behavior surprises Harry. Working together, Harry discovers a side of Malfoy that intrigues him, leading to an unexpected invitation. ★ HP Yuletide Bliss 2023 | @hp-yuletide-bliss

4. The Pale Ferret Café by Anonymous [G, 3k]

►Harry's visits to Draco's café are a source of annoyance. Or are they? ★ Harry/Draco Owlpost 2023 | @hdowlpost

5. Thickets by Anonymous [E, 17k]

►When Draco returns to the UK after two decades of building his career as an internationally-renowned artist to look after his ailing, estranged father, he crosses paths with his former flame, Harry Potter, in the most unexpected way. ★ H/D Erised 2023 | @hd-erised

[lizardsquisher]

Chapter One: A Lesson in Humility

Nevarra City in winter had a festive yet martial air. The cheerful light of painted lanterns sparked in the armor of the heavily armed soldiers who stomped down the snowy streets. Stone castles wore dark-leafed garlands of red and white flowers like crotchety old men in floral bonnets. In much the way the snow and frost softened the rugged landscape, so, too, had the Nevarrans gentled their sharp-edged practicality with their love of beauty.

“I hear they wear armor during their winter balls,” Ava commented as she and Viktor waited in the market, watching the passersby.

“Do you suppose the nobles hang those garlands on the dragon heads in their entry halls?”

“Maybe they dress them up with bows.” Ava stomped her booted feet to fight the numbness in her toes, huddling into her fur-lined jacket.

Viktor studied her with canny grey eyes. Being from Ferelden, he was unbothered by the cold. But he knew she’d started life as a Tevinter galley slave before she joined the Lords of Fortune. It had been all beaches and jungles since then. Cold climes had never been her friend.

“You’d be warmer if you weren’t wearing a corset and a skimpy blouse under that jacket,” he remarked.

“And do you suppose I’ve got a clothing chest of long underwear back in Rivain?”

He tapped her reddened nose. “Be more prepared, you redheaded devil. You knew about this expedition in time to buy suitable gear.”

“I am prepared. I’ve got plenty of weapons and rope. Besides, I’m a Lord of Fortune. Aren’t I supposed to charge recklessly into the fray?”

“Please,” Viktor scoffed. “You’re too clever to do anything without a strategy. You just like to flaunt yourself.”

“That’s a strategy in and of itself.” She winked.

“Direct that nonsense at someone else. You don’t have what it takes to impress me.”

“A love sword?”

Viktor shook his head. “You must stop reading those trashy Varric Tethras novels.”

“You’re the one who is always insisting that I further my education.”

“I don’t think your education needs furthering on the subject of ‘love swords.’”

Ava guffawed. “Well, you’re not wrong about that.”

As he watched her rub her hands together, his eyes softened. “You don’t need to stand here with me. It’s my contact. I can handle this bit. Why don’t you go warm up with a drink?”

“I don’t dislike the sound of that,” Ava admitted. “It’s the idleness that gets to me. Once I’m on the hunt, I wouldn’t notice a blizzard. But with all this standing around, I’ve got nothing to do but fantasize about Rivaini beaches while my knickers freeze to my ass.”

“I’ve got just the place.” Viktor linked arms with her and led her to a small stone shop with a dark green awning. “Nice and cozy. You’ll like it.”

“This,” Ava said icily, “is a tea shop.”

“Tea is a drink. Or so I’ve heard.”

"I prefer mead.”

“It’s probably not a good idea to get in your cups. If the Nevarrans find out we’re Lords of Fortune, they might suspect we’re after the dragon’s hoard.”

Well. He wasn’t wrong about that. Word had it that a Pentaghast dragon slayer had managed to kill a frost dragon. But the canny reptile had done too good a job of hiding its lair. Search as they might, the Nevarrans couldn’t find it. So the Lords had decided to give it a try. The Pentaghast in question would likely take umbrage if he knew. He believed slaying the dragon gave him the right to claim its treasure. But the Lords were firm believers in “finders keepers.”

Ava sighed. “All right, get back to the meeting place. I’ll drink the damned tea.”

“There’s a girl.” He patted her on the back and retreated across the square.

Ava stared at the shop skeptically. Through the window, she could see a fire blazing in the fireplace. It cast a golden glow over the small, round tables with their white linen tablecloths. The delicate wooden chairs were Orlesian. So, too, were the porcelain teapots in pale blues and greens.

A skeleton had been painted on the window, holding an armful of purple flowers. Elegant golden letters beneath it read “Death’s Fond Embrace.”

“Ah, tea served with a reminder of my own mortality. That’s neat.” Ava snorted and pulled open the door. The warmth wrapped around her like a hug from a dear friend. Every inch of her sun-browned skin sighed in relief. She slumped into a chair. She hadn’t wanted to come, but now she might never leave.

The proprietor--a tidy man with meticulously parted hair and an apron over his perfectly tailored clothes--bustled over to attend her. "What would you like, miss?"

"I'm not much of a tea drinker. What do you recommend?"

"Our spiced apple tea. That should put the color back in your cheeks."

"Sounds lovely." She slipped a coin across the table.

"Coming right up." He pocketed her coin and hurried away to put the kettle on.

Ava scoped out the room. It occurred to her that there were other ways to keep warm. Their expedition wasn't leaving until first light tomorrow. And it had been ages since she'd taken a lover. Finding them among the Lords made her life too complicated. And her nomadic existence made anything long-term ill-advised. So when she was abroad on the hunt for gold, she sometimes sought out a little temporary company.

There were only two other people in the shop. A young woman with a mouth like a crevasse sat in one corner, scowling at her honey cake as if it had insulted her. In a wing-backed green armchair by the fire, a genteel older man sifted through the books and papers on the table in front of him, occasionally taking a sip of his tea. He was probably twenty years her senior. Still, he had a lean, elegant frame, and his hair and clothing were impeccable. She had half a mind to sleep with him just to steal his coat afterwards--a long, purple affair with dramatic shoulders that nearly reached his ears. Rings flashed from his fingers as he turned pages, the gold bangles on his arms jingling. She liked a man who appreciated accessories. And the gleam of jewels did things to her pirate heart.

The proprietor returned with her tea. She nodded her thanks. One sip almost erased her regret about the mead. The sweetness of apple and richness of the spices were a mouthful of autumn in the depth of winter. The cup warmed her hands as each sip warmed her insides. She picked up her tea cup and the pot, walking towards the gentleman by the fire.

He looked up as her shadow fell across his book. She favored him with a smile. "I hope you don't mind if I sit here. I'm hoping the fire will toast some of the frost from my boots."

He smiled back. "Oh, please." He gestured to the armchair across from him. "I have no intention of hoarding the fireplace to myself."

"So kind of you." She settled into the chair, setting down her drink. "Sorry to interrupt your studies."

"Oh, it's nothing crucial. I'm in town to give a lecture. I've spent my life immersed in this research, so I hardly need to revisit it. But I'd rather be over-prepared than underprepared. No sense in doing anything if you aren't going to do it well."

"Now there's a philosophy I can approve of." Ava wriggled out of her jacket. She aimed what she knew to be a perky set of breasts in his direction, displayed to their full advantage by a low-cut white blouse and a tight corset.

Depressingly, he persisted in making eye contact. He offered her one ringed hand. "I'm Professor Emmrich Volkarin."

"Lovely to meet you. I'm Ava Laidir." She shook his hand, refraining from pulling it closer to inspect the ruby on his ring finger. It was reflex to wonder how much it would fetch on the black market.

"What do you do, Ms. Laidir?"

"Ava," she corrected. Carefully omitting any mention of piracy, she added, "I'm a sailor."

"Ah. What brings you to Nevarra City? We haven't any coastline to speak of."

"Suits me." She grinned. "I don't mind a break from the ocean, seeing as I can't swim."

He chuckled. "A sailor who can't swim. That must be fraught."

"Well, see, the goal of a good sailor is to keep the ship afloat. If I have to swim, I've failed."

It was hard to say which warmth was more enjoyable--the warmth of the fire or the warmth in his dark eyes. "That's true. But one does want a backup plan."

"My backup plan is driftwood. I hear it floats. Or at least better than I do."

The lines around his eyes crinkled pleasantly. "You have the air of the Fade about you. You're a mage, are you not?"

"That I am. Learned a bit of battle magic from a Crow. That's sort of become my specialty." She tilted her head, nodding towards his staff. It was an impressively ornate piece topped by a skull with glowing green eyes. "You, too, I assume. Unless that’s just a fancy walking stick."

Emmrich chuckled. "Indeed I am. Necromancy is my area of expertise."

"Mm." She leaned forward, her chin in her hand. "I hear that requires a study of anatomy."

"Oh, yes. Quite a detailed study. It comes in handy when one is reconstructing a corpse."

"I'd imagine it comes in handy in other respects, too."

"Certainly." He missed the suggestive arch of her eyebrow as he shuffled his papers. "I'm of the opinion that everyone should study the subject. Why wouldn't one want to understand one's own body?"

"Oh, I know mine very well. And I don't mind sharing that knowledge with interested parties."

"Sharing knowledge is my passion, as well." He brought forth a diagram. "Look at this. Did you know there are 206 bones in the human body? There are 26 in the foot alone."

She stared at the diagram in mild dismay. This conversation was getting away from her. "I didn't know that."

He smiled. "I hope I’m not boring you. I can't seem to help teaching when a young person bestows their attention on me."

Young person. This was becoming less and less promising. She made an effort to save the situation. Leaning towards him again, she practically offered her tits on a plate. "Oh, you've definitely kept my attention. I don't suppose you have any dirty charts in there, do you?"

"Oh, no, I keep my documents very tidy, I can assure you."

Ava slumped back into her chair. "Ah." She had never worked this hard to bed someone in her life. Usually, the combination of pouty lips, fluttering eyelashes, and tanned skin was enough to manage it even if she didn't say a word. It made her want to glance down to make sure that her cleavage was out. Maybe he wasn't interested in women? Or maybe he preferred them older. Either way, her ego was bruised.

The bells on the door jingled. Viktor stepped inside, waving to her.

"Well. There's my compatriot." Ava slid her teapot towards Emmrich. "Have the rest, will you? I'd hate for it to go to waste." And someone should get something steamy out of this conversation, she added silently.

He smiled that mild-mannered smile of his. "So kind of you, really."

"Nice talking to you, professor." She strutted away with her jacket in her arms, determined to at least give him a view to inspire regret.

"Put on your jacket, you silly creature," Viktor scolded. "You'll freeze to death."

Ava mumbled and slid her arms into the sleeves.

Viktor glanced back towards the professor. "What's all this? I leave you for a few minutes and you're seducing the elderly?"

"We have a schedule to keep." She ushered him out of the door, almost as relieved to go back into the cold as she'd been to get out of it.

[godihatethiswebsite]

Desert Oasis

✽ Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x f!reader (The Mummy AU)

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

✽ Part 7 - Gearing up for the road ahead

I intended to get this out to you guys much earlier, but my health stole my brain bunnies and then the chapter grew a lot bigger than I'd originally anticipated. I'm actually forcing myself to break it up from the 10k monstrosity it currently is (and I'm not done with yet ><) into this chunk half the size so that you're not waiting another week or so.

The good news is I've got a bunch of the next part already done because of that so hopefully the wait won't be as long :)

i'm not jinxing myself by saying that. what are you talking about >>;

Kyle hadn't let you walk after everything and you were far too drained from the day's events to argue. He'd gotten to his feet and hoisted you up into his arms, cradling you to his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your eyes for a bit. His body warmth wasn't a cure-all, but it certainly helped given the fact that you were dressed in a sopping wet short cotton batiste nightgown with only your knickers on underneath. Letting yourself be carried wasn't just because you were tired and shoeless - it was also helping to preserve your modesty. 

Something like that shouldn't really matter at a time like this considering one of your male companions was family and the other had already seen you in the state when he was saving your life (twice now). However, you weren't the only people out here despite not running into anyone else as you three made the trek southward. You didn’t want to be caught so exposed should your paths cross with any of your companions from the wreckage. 

Unlikely, but better to be safe than sorry.

They'd opted to delay settling down for the night and keep traveling for a little bit longer, arguing that they were too wound up from the ‘festivities’ to find much sleep anyways. While you were certain adrenaline must’ve had them on edge, you suspected they were moreover worried about the men in black robes coming back in the middle of the night to finish what they started. That thought weighed heavy in your gut, sending a shiver down your spine easily mistaken for the slight chill of the desert. 

By the time it was decided you were far enough away from the wreckage for their comfort, you had begun to lull off in Kyle’s hold, fighting the pull of slumber from a mixture of pure stubbornness and the lingering paranoia of being snuck up on once again. It was doubtful sleep would come easy to you tonight if it even did at all.

Being so close to the Nile had lush vegetation scattered throughout the area, your cousin finding a small patch of softer earth to place you down upon while Johnny rested his back against a nearby palm. Neither of them had a go at building a fire for warmth, not wanting to risk being spotted and leaving your only light source to be the heavenly planets above. The nearby crop provided cover from wandering eyes which helped ease your anxieties a little at least.

“Who was it that attacked us?” The question from your lips was one that no one had yet to voice aloud, but was on everyone’s minds in one form or another. 

Your cousin plopped down in the grass next to you, scratching a hand over his scalp in a show of obvious frustration parroted by the expression he wore.

“Wish I had an answer for you, dolly. Been rattlin' my brain over that all night and yet still only comin' up empty handed. Could’ve just been as simple as a rogue band of desert dwellers looking for easy pickings and we were the poor bastards who got unlucky.”

“That's a right load and ye know it, Garrick.” Johnny’s voice had a growl to it that gave away his own internal thoughts, rooting around in his rucksack in what you suspect was an effort to check over his few remaining belongings. “If that were true then they’d ‘ave taken somethin’ with ‘em. Ye dunnae sink a ship yer tryin’ ta make coin off of.”

“They were looking for something.” Even with how soft your voice was interjecting into the conversation, both pairs of eyes swiveled towards you immediately, imploring you to continue with your explanation. 

“One of the men… in my room,” your gaze briefly landed on Johnny as you thought back to how he found you being held captive with a dagger to your throat, eyes burning through you in a way you had to mentally shake yourself out of in remembrance, “h-he asked me something… about a key. He was looking for it and got incensed when I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about.”

The two of them shared a look at the details of your brief encounter, trying to piece together a puzzle that was taking more shape but still lacked too many parts.

“Seems like someone on board was hiding something,” came your cousin’s reply, an ominous implication that had you over analyzing the people you’d come in contact with over the course of the day. “Question is: which one was the thief and which one was the conservator?”

Too much blood had been spilt for you to even consider the notion that the men in black were even remotely the good guys, but you couldn’t help the nagging tug in the deep recesses of your brain that was trying to place why some part of you recognized something about the man who threatened you. You’re certain you’d never seen his face before, but there was an element of his appearance that kept itching something you couldn’t seem to scratch. 

Perhaps clarity would find you in the morning when the events that brought you here weren’t so fresh in your mind.

Turning your attention back to Johnny, you brought up the other thought that had been tumbling around upstairs although it was far less pressing of a matter. “That man across the river. Friend of yours?”

You’d been half expecting the displeased snort you received in response based on the short interaction you’d witnessed, but it was Kyle who answered first. 

“Philip Graves. Bit of a mercenary who took up occasional employment with His Majesty’s forces.” There was a sourness to his tone that spoke volumes towards his opinion of the man. “Ran a few with him back in the day. Thought he was actually a good bloke at first, but turns out he’s just another man out only for his own skin, no honor or loyalty to be found.”

“Had a bit o’ a run in with him on the ferry tonight. Certainly put the eejit back in his place, or so ah thought. Damn dog doesnae ken when tae stay down.” 

Your ears perked up in interest at the reveal, a latch clicking in your head as you put two and two together.

The glance over your shoulder. 

That must’ve been why he ushered you back below decks. Hearing the way they spoke about the man had you grateful you’d avoided that particular encounter… though you were intrigued by the conversation that surely followed.

“Oh yeah?” You could certainly tell that lifted Kyle’s spirits a bit to hear. “Have a proper go at him, did ya?”

“Well he ended up takin’ a bit o’ a premature swim if that’s wha’ yer implying.” The smirk on Johnny's face was positively impish, making even the corners of your own lips quirk up in amusement. “But ah did manage tae find out one useful piece o’ information. Turns out he’s the one leadin’ the Americans to Hamunaptra.”

“Bloody hell. You serious?” That wasn’t a reassuring response coming from your cousin.

“‘Fraid so. Bastard was more than happy ta flap his gob about his recent ventures. Americans paid him half upfront, half when he gets ‘em there. Looks like we’re stuck with our ol’ buddy Graves a bit longer than ah’d like.”

“Should I be concerned?” You glanced warily between them, feeling far too on edge tonight as it was without this added headache stacking up on top of things.

Kyle could practically feel the despair in your bones at the prospect of this journey adding even more to your plate than it already had, placing a firm hand on your knee as a small reminder that you weren’t alone in all this. “More of a nuisance than a threat, dolly. Don’t go worrying your head over something so inconsequential.

“‘Sides, there’s only so much mischief he can get up tae with the likes of us ‘round tae keep him in line.”

Coming from a pair of troublemakers, that wasn’t as much of a comfort as they probably thought it was.

By the time the next morning rolled around, you were convinced the only reason you were able to get any sleep at all was due to the sheer amount of fatigue that forced your body to eventually yield to it, having depleted all energy reserves by the time you finally closed your eyes for a proper rest.

Despite getting a full night’s reprieve, the same could not be said for your body. Muscles that hadn’t been exercised in years were howling at you as you rose to consciousness, body protesting the movement as it was even sorer now than it was only hours ago. Combined with the less than ideal sleeping arrangements (despite the decent makeshift pillow your cousin’s lap had made) you were certainly feeling it come sunrise, joints aching and cracking like kettle corn. 

The prospect of doing even more travel on foot did not appeal to you in the slightest.

You were pleasantly surprised to be offered a banana as a substitute for a hearty breakfast, Johnny pointing a little farther inland to a small cluster of trees where the offending fruit dangled from its clutches. You hadn’t noticed them in the darkness when the group first settled down, grateful to not have to continue onward without at least a little something in your belly. As far as water went, so long as you stayed near the Nile the blue waters would provide you with ample hydration. If it wasn’t for the fact you were on a bit of a timetable, you might have argued for the chance at catching a fish to fill you up even more. But they had neither the tools nor patience to effectively do it, leaving you with the fruit you quickly scarfed down.

It didn’t take long for the clothes on your backs to dry once the sun came out, glad to be rid of the uncomfortable damp that had you smelling like mildew. Were it not for the fact that you did not want to expose yourself again with a semi translucent nightgown you would’ve walked a few meters to your left and taken a much needed dip in the cool river.

Alas, you figured you’d learn to live with the stench as the desert heat would no doubt leave you with far less agreeable odors than a bit of moisture. No doubt your fellow companions were accustomed to such a life where bathing was moreso optional than it was required. 

The group followed alongside the Nile as much as possible, hoping to have a run in with others who would potentially have supplies for you to barter from. Johnny had a bit of coin stuffed in one of the pouches of his bag that could get you a decent bit of what you needed; it was just a matter of finding the right buyer to haggle with. Once it started becoming apparent that you were unlikely to encounter what you were looking for near the shore, they charted a course westward into the desert towards where Johnny hoped he remembered seeing an encampment last time he passed through this way.

They’d allowed you to walk as far as you could until the ground became too hot for their liking, having made the mistake of hissing when bare skin met a particularly scorching plot of land now that there was far less greenery to cushion your steps. Kyle hadn’t even asked this time before sweeping you up into his hold, garnering a half-hearted round of complaints from you that were quickly silenced without any real fight. You could’ve tried harder to convince them to let you keep going on your own, but without proper footwear it was genuinely becoming uncomfortable to be on the ground for more than a few moments at a time. You just hoped for your cousin’s sake that he wouldn’t have to bear the extra weight for too terribly long. Just because he was fit didn’t mean his arms didn’t eventually tire.

Conversation was minimal as you trekked through the desert, too focused on their own surroundings to do more than the occasional banter. Must’ve taken a little under an hour before Johnny held up a hand to halt your movements, recognizing a nearby rock formation and turning in that direction. If his memory served right, there was a tribe located at the base of it that was more welcoming to passersby. 

The Bedouin tribes of the Sahara were mainly known for being camel herders as opposed to sheep and cattle - for obvious reasons. They migrate as the seasons change, retreating back into the desert during the rainy winter season and towards cultivated land once the dry summer months returned. If some element of luck had not been on your side and you’d happened here during the wrong time, chances were you’d still be wandering around looking for civilization. 

Once your group got within range of the settlement, a small handful of men flagged you down at your approach, coming out to meet you while Johnny pushed you back to stand behind him. Kyle stepped forward as the men began to converse, speaking a dialect of Arabic that you were mildly familiar with but Kyle was stumbling through. He knew enough basics to get by in Cairo, but some of their words garnered looks of total confusion from him that ultimately was getting the group nowhere. 

You let him keep trying for a bit longer before taking pity on the poor sod and peeping out from behind the bulky figure protecting your modesty. Four pairs of eyes turned towards you in surprise, Johnny’s arm coming back to block you while you relayed your desire for adequate supplies and transport. When you discussed your need for appropriate clothing as well, they were kind enough to call over one of the women of the tribe who came running over holding a blanket ready to wrap around you. 

Kyle gave you a look as she rushed over, something that suggested annoyance in the thin set line of his mouth. “Wanted to watch me make a fool of myself, eh?”

You gave the woman a grateful smile as she concealed your ill-dressed form from their gaze, feeling much more at ease as she placed an arm around your shoulders and led you into camp. The grin you gave him in return spoke of thinly veiled hilarity. “Thought I'd let you try first. Give you a chance to brush up on your Arabic before emasculating you.”

Johnny didn’t even try to hide his amusement at your cousin’s expense, rewarding Kyle with a hearty slap on the back for his efforts and leaning in close to whisper something under his breath that earned him an elbow to the sternum for his words. 

You paid them no heed as you walked with your escort towards the eastern side of the settlement, the locals already conversing about the necessary details as you realized you’d be split up from the boys to leave them to deal with whatever sort of arrangements needed to be made for your travels. Hopefully there was someone more knowledgeable in English that could assist them in your absence.

You didn’t have any other experiences with the Bedouin to form a picture in your head of the size of the encampment compared to others, but it certainly wasn’t a compact setup they had going on here. Family groups living within sizeable elaborate tents fluttered about tending to their household responsibilities while their children and grandchildren darted between the structures with all the playful innocence of untouched youth. Livestock grazed amongst the small bit of foliage, corralled in pens and cages to be fattened up whilst awaiting their inevitable ends. 

The women were covered from head to toe, the men and children less hidden and sporting brighter colors and patterns. Clothing hung out to dry on suspended lines of rope, women carrying braided wicker baskets to and fro while chatting away the hours of hard work under an unforgiving sun. It was a thriving community that even out here in these barren wastelands had carved out a peaceful existence away from the worries of the larger world. 

As exciting as it was to be surrounded by peoples of such an incredibly rich culture, it was also a little nerve wracking to say the least. This tribe seemed used to trade, but there was no denying your group stuck out like a sore thumb.

Easy to feel like a complete outsider when you were one. 

How were you supposed to act out here amongst the rolling desert dunes? You knew it was a patriarchal society and you were the most scantily clad thing here, surrounded by dark veiled modest women and stern appraising eyes of men. There had to be a dozen faux pas you were breaking right now, a realization that set your teeth on edge. 

Just another example of how woefully unprepared you were to deal with anything other than wealthy socialites or bookworms.

Your cousin must have sensed your hesitancy as the woman leading your troop tried to usher you further into the settlement, a different path than the one the men were heading off towards for supplies. Not that you suspected any foul play or deceit on the Bedouins' part, but it was easier to navigate all the unfamiliarity with your much more worldly companions by your side.

“We've got this, dolly. You'll be alright on your own for a bit,” Kyle offered with a comforting grin and a hand on your shoulder, “Go get yourself proper while we take care of negotiations.”

“Jus’ give a holler if anythin’ happens and we'll come runnin’ right tae ya,” piped up Johnny with a lazy grin but a promise in his eyes that he meant every word of it. 

That soothed your nerves more than anything, flashing him a meek grateful smile as you allowed your chaperone to lead you onward with a firm hand between the shoulder blades.

It took almost no time afterwards to arrive at your apparent destination. The woman charged with your care lifted aside a curtain as she bade you enter the abode, finding a younger pair inside that looked up at you upon your arrival. One must have been closer to your age, the other far younger as she sat in the former’s lap and let her comb out her long dark tresses. She introduced them as her two daughters who greeted you warmly with bowed heads. Once they were informed of your situation, you were beckoned closer and instructed to remove your gown, the youngest off to the back to retrieve some items for a quick wash up. 

You were used to the kind of treatment they offered back in your younger years, having had servants that would assist with your bathing and beauty routine that followed. It was a bit different being given such kindness from strangers, having been stripped out of your remaining clothes and cleansed from a bucket. The desert was thoroughly scrubbed from your flesh, scalp lathered in oils that would help protect your skin and hair from the harsh rays of the sun. Even though you knew this small luxury was fleeting, it was nice to not smell like a vagrant for a little while at least.

The older woman stepped away as soon as you dried yourself, huffing under her breath that she had nothing to fit you and disappearing for what you assumed was a mission to remedy that. You were made to kneel on a cushion, towel draped around you whilst the eldest daughter took up position in front of you, a small vial of kohl in her hands to be applied to your eyes.

You were not accustomed to cosmetics being applied to your waterline, the black liner smudged above your lower lashes causing you to blink back tears. Supposedly it was good for your overall eye health, but the jury was still out until the stinging from the foreign substance subsided for you. Meanwhile, the youngest was all smiles and giggles as she settled down behind you, comb in hand that she began to gently tug through your tangles; a comment was made comparing you to one of her beloved dolls before her sister shushed her for saying so.

Their mother returned shortly with a bundle of dark cloth in her arms, ushering you to your feet as she made quick work of slipping the garments up over your head. Your underthings were replaced with similar items, all very plain and practical in contrast to the beautiful thobe they graced you with.

The material itself was made of an airy lightweight fabric and infinitely more breathable than what you left your home in yesterday morning. The black coloring was detailed with elegant hand stitched beading, silver embellishments catching the light and twinkling like little sewn-in constellations. There was a soft melodic chiming with every movement, small polished coins accenting your waist and jingling in a way that almost begged for lively music to be played. The shoes you slipped into were soft but sturdy, fine dark linen adorning your head as the woman gave you brief instructions on how best to wrap it to protect your face from the desert sands if need be. 

Once you finally got a proper look at yourself in the mirror, you were stunned at the difference a change of style and darker makeup could do to your features, a far cry from the latest London fashions shipped down to your estate in Cairo. Despite having lived in the country for most of your life, you’d never before been dressed in the cultural attire worn by some of the natives. Giving a slow twirl at the women’s urgings, you decidedly felt at home in the designs much the same way as you did in your everyday skirts.

Satisfied with your appearance, they accompanied you back out into the encampment to hunt down and rejoin the others. You had to admit that whatever trick the kohl provided, you did find yourself having to squint less under the sun’s brightness. Seeing its effects in action, you were now grateful for the small vial they’d slipped into your hand moments ago so that you could keep reapplying it during your travels.

It didn’t take long to locate Kyle and Johnny near a resting herd of camels, standing around as a group of men readied the beasts for a long trek out into the vast Sahara dunes. Seeing how much equipment was being packed onto the backs of them, you wondered just how much coin Johnny had stashed away in his bag to be able to afford the pretty penny’s worth they had acquired.

They both looked at ease as they chatted amongst themselves, Kyle leaning back against a nearby cart with his arms crossed over his chest, sleeves rolled up to his elbows much the same as his friend. He’d obtained some more gear for his person going by the leather gun holster strapped over his shoulders carrying matching pistols, a dark blue neckerchief tied above his unbuttoned dress shirt left open to reveal the tight wife beater underneath.

Your cousin had always been a bit of a pretty boy, but even with his striking good looks he was the epitome of casual danger. 

Johnny, on the other hand, looked devilishly roguish. He hadn’t altered his outfit much in comparison to Kyle - only adding a tan patterned neckerchief of his own and an extra button undone from the top - but there was a difference in the way he seemed to carry himself now. Something in his air and mannerisms that felt primed to go off at any given moment. 

This was a man in his element; not in the dredges of society, but out here amongst the wild and the unexpected. You’d seen him as a low-life; you’d seen him more refined. Now you were seeing him as he truly was: a fighter — both of them.

His appearance lured you in, his eyes ensnaring you as the pair at last took notice of your approach. Where your cousin offered you one of his signature bright smiles, Johnny’s face became deceptively neutral. Gone was the grin he’d just shared with your cousin, hidden behind something you desperately wanted to claw at. It was as if all the emotion retreated from his expression only to be refocused behind the gaze he swallowed you up with, dark blue sapphires holding you defenselessly captive and burning hot coals in places you’d never reached before. 

It wasn’t until Kyle stepped forward and broke your line of sight with Johnny that you were able to blink away from whatever he’d been subconsciously trying to relay to you.

“There’s our girl.” Kyle took hold of your hand and gave you a spin, eyes raking over your new attire as you blushed from his playful attentions. “Far cry from the frills and stuffy dresses you usually force yourself into every day, huh dolly?”

Pulling your hand from his, you gave him a light shove that he had the decency to fake stumbling back from. “I happen to like those dresses, thank you very much. Nothing wrong with enjoying the finer parts of being a lady. Meanwhile, sir, you seem to have lost your waistcoat.” You couldn’t help but tease him back as you tugged at his open billowy dress shirt. 

“Not much to impress out in the middle of nowhere. Certainly not you lot,” he added, tossing a grin back at your companion.

Johnny had returned to normal by the time your vision swept that way, the previous interaction a mere mirage as he returned the snarky comment with a playful one of his own. “Yer right. Ain’t no damsels in distress ‘round fer ye to showboat fer. Aye, hen?”

The wink he sent your way paired with the subtle compliment left you glowing, something fluttering in your chest that you pushed aside so as not to let it fester.

Your cousin snorted his response, Johnny’s attention pulled to the Bedouin man next to him that had finished securing the group’s new belongings to your transportation. He gave the man a quick smile and a nod as he took hold of the reins, giving the camel a firm pat on its neck. Turning his awareness back to you, Johnny motioned with his head for you to approach. 

“Ever rode a camel, lass?”

“Oh, no. I learned side saddle on horses when we visited Kyle’s family estate during the summers, but beyond that it’s been years since I’ve even been on the back of one.” You reached out to give the animal a scritch on its head behind the ears, the short dense hairs course yet fluffy to the touch. 

“Not much different,” he shrugged, eyes keen on your form. “Jus’ a wee bit taller and bumpier a ride, s’all. Ye’ll have it down in no time.”

Johnny gave a downward tug on the reins; that paired with a clicking noise from his tongue had the camel lowering itself on folded knees to the earth, resting on its legs as he slapped his hand down on the padded blanketed seat. “Best we be gettin’ a move on then.”

You were suddenly aware of the fact that there were three of them in the vicinity, one for each of you to be riding separately. You’d anticipated having to share with one of the others, not quite sure how to logistically navigate this on your own. “How am I meant to sit on that thing? The way it moves I’ll be forced to grip the pommel the whole time so as not to take a tumble off the side.”

“Looks like yer gonna get a taste o’ wha’ it’s like tae be a man, lass.”

That wasn't exactly a welcome response.

“O-one leg on each side?” The notion caught you off guard, wide eyes glancing down at your dress which was admittedly a lot flowier and less constricting than normal. Flashing skin was far less scandalous than it had been when you were born, but it wasn’t something you were used to doing even with some type of pantyhose or stocking underneath. You hadn’t much need for flapper dresses nowadays with the company you kept.

“Go on, dolly.” Kyle was looking far too entertained at your obvious hesitance to break out of your comfort zone, hopping up on his own stead with practiced ease. “You wanted to be an adventurer, yeah? Gotta get over this hump first.”

You pulled at your bottom lip with your teeth, hands fidgeting with some of the small coins belted around your waist in nervousness. Should you scoot onto it from the side and swing your legs over? Do you gather up the material first and then sit down? Why was this so bloody hard when the men made it look easy?

“Right, up ye get.” Apparently not possessing the patience for you to figure out how best to mount the beast in a skirt, you squeaked as Johnny's firm calloused hands suddenly took hold of your waist, hefting you up the short height onto the animal and depositing you in the saddle. With how wide your legs parted to accommodate its size, your thobe rode up past your stockings to reveal your knees and lower thighs, grabbing at the thin material and trying to drag it down as far as it could go to maintain some slight modesty. 

You didn’t have time to be embarrassed as Johnny once again made a clicking sound with his tongue, patting the camel on its haunches as it began to stand from its resting position. You scrambled for the saddle pommel with a vice grip, squealing at the clunky rocking motion that jarred you as it rose to its full height. If your reflexes had been even a moment slower, you would've flown ass over tea kettle off the back and onto the hard ground below.

Settling back down after that brief scare, you were shocked at just how much you towered over everything. You were used to the elevation that came with being on a horse; this creature had well over a foot on your largest thoroughbred.

“Lookit that!” Johnny clapped his hands excitedly with a throaty chuckle. “Yer a proper natural.” With how wide of a grin he was giving you, you nearly missed the way his eyes briefly admired the exposed skin of your lower half before patting your foot from his spot below in supportive praise. 

He left you alone to mosey on over to his own ride, Kyle bringing his camel up alongside yours and flashing you a smile which you found impossibly infectious. Here you were, astride a massive beast in the middle of the Sahara about to undertake a journey that would help change humanity’s understanding of ancient Egyptian society during the New Kingdom forever.

You couldn’t wait to find the long lost City of the Dead and all the excitement it would bring.

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[sugarsnappeases]

Let loose a little bit !!!!!!!!

bartydoralily | 4.7k words | explicit | happy birthday jen @quillkiller MWAH <3333

Before he can get his hand under the lace of her knickers however, he suddenly jerks backwards. Lily opens her eyes just in time to see Marty getting slapped across the face by a woman with waist-length sun-bleached blonde hair. She has one hand holding the scruff of Marty’s top, and the other ready to slap him again. What’s perhaps most strange is the way that Marty’s eyes have lit up at the sight of this avenging angel. He grins as her hand connects with his face again and breathes, “Fuck, baby” “Barty, how could you!?” the woman responds, scowling fiercely at him, loud and a little theatrical. Apparently she’s referring to Marty because she points an accusing finger at him as she speaks. Lily thinks perhaps she misheard when he told her his name earlier, but the idea that he had probably said Barty seems somewhat more unfortunate than the name Marty had, so she resolves to wilfully ignore this discovery. ***** a bartydoralily festival adventure feat. an unspecified band, the most ridiculous argument known to man, a very lucky tree, and a stupid fic-wide bit that i can only apologise for

[fencer-x]

Title: How To Train Your Malfoy Pairing(s): Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, background mentions of Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger, brief but explicit descriptions of past Draco Malfoy/OMC Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~94,000 Summary: 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. Link: Read it on AO3! Author Notes: So, I first thought about writing something like this way back in 2018, when I wrote Men Who Love Dragons Too Much. In that fic, a character mentions that it's dangerous forcing an Animagus in transformation back into their human form, as the instincts of their animal form might overwrite their human mind, leaving them an animal in a human body. That made me think, what if someone had forced dragon!Draco back into his human form when he wasn't ready? This is the answer.

Excerpt

Harry took steps to make sure Malfoy was properly prepared for the upcoming festivities this time, drilling into him as they readied the evening’s main course (Hermione and Ron were in charge of dessert). Well, “they” readied—really it was Harry readying things, and then re-readying them after Malfoy tried to help. “And you met Hermione the once and she wasn’t so bad, right?” Harry said, whisking the eggs as he searched for errant bits of shell that might have made their way in too after Malfoy had thrown half a dozen whole eggs into the bowl at once. “I mean, you’ve met her a lot more than the once, but I’m guessing that’s something else you don’t remember, which is probably for the better. Anyway, she’s not here to take you away—unfortunately—and she’s not here to take me away—unfortunately—so there’s no need to get your knickers in a twist around her, all right? Besides, she’s, er, taken already. So triple no reason for twisting of knickers.” “‘Arry.” “Yeah, I know you don’t wear anything—I sleep with you, if you’ll recall. Which it’d be really nice if that’s one concession I could get out of you.” “‘Arry.” “I’m sure it’s cooler now, but autumn’s right around the corner for one, and for another, outside of certain special situations, it’s just good manners to wear tops and bottoms to bed when you’re sharing it with someone else.” “‘Arry?” “No, I will not elaborate on what ‘certain special situations’ are.”

[serenanight87]

The Star of Sadistic Wishes (Interrogator x Reader, pt. 2)

A/N: Hello everyone I am back with another part of my Closetland story. He is just so demanding and wants to be the spotlight of all your Rickmas dreams. I am using the “Star of Wishes” prompt for this one. He seems to get very descriptive on what he wants to say from his point of view, so it is a long one. Now onward with the work. Hopefully this will be well received as well.

Oh, you may also want this link for the music that is played during a part of this. You know to get fully immersed in the scene.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ISqjyIdmZQs

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings: Smut, Con/Non-Con yet again if you squint, BDSM references, Dom/sub play, Bondage, Graphic Description of Photos.

If you are under 18, please remove your eyes from this. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now I get to have my fun. Let’s see if this will get little girl’s peach nice and juicy.

As I hide in the shadows, I await for her to awaken. I have taken painstaking care to set the scene just right. It is dark with red and green mood lighting to create that Christmas Joy feeling.

Little does she know, this will be more joy for me than her. Or maybe it will be equal if she is as bad of a little girl as she claims. However, if the pictures we have are anything to go on, this will be delicious for all.

I didn’t use my normal “interviewing” table this time. No, the time of year called for something special. And she seemed like a special case. I have had this in my inventory for a while and I finally have the perfect moment to use it.

I have her strapped down to an upright table in the cutout shape of a Christmas tree. Her hands were handcuffed together at the top as if she was already praying for release before we even got started. I have her legs spread and tied with string in a squatting position with a seat near the bottom of the tree for her to rest on. Of course if she does it will stretch out her shoulders and cause extra pain. She was also decorated so lovely in Christmas lights and dressed so beautifully for her role. A golden nipple cutout bra that was big golden stars, one for each breast. Along with a matching set of crotch less knickers with one gold star in the front. With her head topped with a golden star tiara.

She will be the Golden Star of my Sadistic Christmas Tree. I wonder if all my Christmas wishes will come true and I get all my presents this year? I chuckle softly at myself for this inside joke.

With the spotlight switching from red to green to white, I wait patiently for her to awake to start the show. This will be my best Christmas production yet. She just makes me feel extra festive for some reason. Maybe her feisty attitude or her trying to degrade me with the pretty boy comment. I don’t know but I feel this need to make it an experience she will never forget..along with getting the confession I need, of course.

I see a slight movement of her head that brings me back to the present. I see her eyes begin to flutter open with a groan filled with grogginess and slight pain. She has been hanging there for a time but not enough to cause extreme pain. I checked her restraints to make sure not to cause damage…yet. You have to play with your food carefully, you know. Her eyes are wide open struggling slightly in her restraints trying to get a good look around.

“Hello?”, she asked. “Is anyone there? Look you can stop with the dramatics. I know nothing and I am a part of nothing. This is also starting to get really old and annoying.”

We will see if you are still singing that tune soon, my sweet. Showtime!

I start the track off of a Christmas song, “Up On the House Top”, that was just fitting for this scene and watched as it began to unfold.

‘Santa Claus comes tonight.

No more days to count, but the even longer wait begins.

The suspense of having to wait from bedtime till morning.’

Yes, kids from all over the world will say their prayers and go to sleep knowing for when they wake up, the little fat man with the long white beard will have stopped by their houses and left the answers to a wish from the most wonderful magical sack there ever was.

‘Ho, ho, ho

Ho, ho, ho

Up on the housetop

Ho, ho, ho’

As the song played the lights flashed about in red and green along to the music. There was a projector screen in front of her where she could see all of the pictures we had been taking of her through the years to be able to pin this story on her. Her meetings with people we didn’t even know, the parties she held in her home, even the production of some of her products she sold out of her small business. All these different pictures played that she has probably already seen from the others. But I found some more interesting ones to include in the reel that she doesn’t know we have. Some of her deepest, darkest secrets that she keeps hidden.

‘First comes the stocking of the little Nell

Ol’ dear Santa fill it well

Give her a dolly that laughs and cries

One that can open and shut its eyes’

As this lyric played the pictures began to flash on the screen, her eyes widened in surprise. I then hear a moan of pleasure from what she sees.

Yes, little girl, we know all about your deviant tendencies. Every little dark thing that you thought you did in the shadows we know about it too.

We are very thorough in our research of our “interviews”. Just some don’t want to use such information. They find it too crass to use such information when they just want to get the straight facts.

No creativity or innovation. No vision. This is the art they can create with human emotion if they would just be open to it. How the others are lacking.

As the lyrics played it showed her dressed in a doll dress bent over someone’s lap with her frilly knickers down to her knees. The following pictures played out the scene as her being spanked till cherry red on that bottom along with some of them having her legs kicking.

That is a behavior I will have to correct. She will take her punishment like a good girl and not be disrespectful with her body. She will learn discipline. However, it does look like she is enjoying herself from the glistening between her legs. I may have find out how she tastes.

The pictures pan around to the front to show her crying due to the pain. Or is she laughing…sometimes they look the same to me.

‘Look in the stocking for little Bill

Oh just see what a glorious fill

Here is a hammer and lots of tacks

A whistle and a ball and a whip that cracks’

As I watch the pictures continue, there she is in another position, bent over in restraints being fisted. The pictures pan around to her front see the nipple clamps she has on with a look of complete delight on her face. Which at this moment is the complete opposite of what she has right now. The look she is giving now is of complete horror.

Then the pictures change again to her on a St. Andrews cross taking a long bullwhip for her punishment. The beautiful stripes that decorate her skin. I so want to go and lick every one of them just see what her skin tastes like. This picture though seems to get her attention the most. The present her screams and begins to struggle harder in her restraints. I smell the fear coming off of her but, it can’t hide the arousal she has already permeated the room with.

As the song ends, the lights go out with the white spotlight left on her. I sneak to the door. I make it seem like I am just coming in and have not seen a thing. The lights go completely dark as I open the door and turn on the light.

“It is always so dark when I come in here to work,” I stated as I swagger back into the room with my briefcase and back in my full suit again. “I just don’t understand why they have to scare you people so much…Well, well, well…am I interrupting something?”

She just stares at me in fear as I give her a little smirk. The look then changes to complete anger as she continues to struggle more to get free. She is very angry and I have a feeling she’s about to let me know just how much.

“You bastard!”, she cried. “You have me strung up like some decoration for your amusement and make me watch this filth you put on! How did you get those pictures? Who do you know that would know such things about me? I need answers damn it!”

“I honestly have no idea what you are talking about,” I said. “I just came in to see you in this position looking like you were getting your Christmas wishes of receiving treatment from my partner. Hence why I asked if I was interrupting something. But since he is not here, I assume that would be a no?”

“You’re damn right it is a no!”, she screamed. “I just woke up like this in the dark when this corny Christmas music started playing showing very incriminating photos of me. Mind you were also taken without my consent! I demand my legal representation and I demand it now!”

“Look, like I just said I just came in here to this. I am very sorry for anything the others may have played on you but this was not the plan of how this interview would go,” I said.

That was a partial lie. This really isn’t the original path I had for this time but it just organically became this glorious sadistic wet dream. I love when a good thing just comes together.

“Well, I should hope not!”, she said. “I mean you are very good looking but I expect a few dates before we would hit this point in a relationsh-.” She stopped herself mid word. Her eyes stared at he floor now. She didn’t mean to say that much obviously. This just got very interesting. I watched her give the most prettiest blush that could rival the cherry red of her ass from the picture earlier.

“Okay, there must have been a mix up in rooms or someone pranking me or you or both. We can get this all straightened out through some reporting once we are done with this,” I said.

“That sounds great and all but that doesn’t undo the mortification I feel right now! Now can you please get me down so we can get done whatever it is you have planned, pretty boy?”, she asked.

“Not just yet,” I said as I looked to be pondering. “You know I think this a good time to take a page out of my partners book. You did say earlier that you may enjoy his time more than mine so maybe we can try something he would do. One moment, don’t move now.”

I left to go to the bag that I had hid earlier in one of the wall drawers. This will have all the fun tricks that I need to make this a wonderful scene with my new sweet. I come back over humming, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.”

“He knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you’re wake,” I sing softly under my breath. “He knows if you’ve been bad or good. So be good…for…good…ness…sake.” I finished the lyric slowly as I turn back around to her. I slowly saunter up close to her. So close we breathe in each other’s breath.

“Please,” she begs so prettily. “Don’t do this. I was just joking, ya know. Trying to catch you by surprise, have some fun, ya know. Like, ha ha funny. You know I have been in here for a while, I have to find my amusement somewhere. Please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry if I made you angry.”

“Oh, you didn’t anger me and I don’t plan on hurting you,” I stated calmly. “Oh no, my plans are far from that. I only plan to reward you for giving me what I require from you. You get to decide if there is pain involved when you choose to disobey me.”

She starts to struggle even more with fear of the eventuality that is coming to pass. But the smell of arousal is still strong. So I know she is very much a willing participant even if she tries to hide it. This is getting more and more delicious for me. I have to keep my head level though and not let the excitement of the moment get to me. I can’t rush this. I have to build it and form it into the ultimate peak to then release the oh so sweet release for both of us. Time and patience is needed for this delicate part of the process.

Remember this is part of my investigation. This is just one of the perks, not the whole part. Stay focused on the work.

“Okay, you had your fun. You made your point. I shouldn’t have made fun that you were too nice and not scary. You are definitely showing that now. You are the big, bad wolf of scary. Now can you please let me go?”, she pleaded.

“Oh no,” I said. “We have only just begun. We will having so much more fun between the two of us. I feel that this time we have had together has made us grow so much closer. So now you will just lay back, relax, and I will explain the rules of our little game. Are you ready, little girl?”

She stops struggling, leans back, and waits for further instruction. I give one of my smirks. I step back to get ready for the rules of our game.

This is going to be so much fun for both of us, my sweet. Just wait and see.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Okay, before the pitchforks come out and everyone gets ready to drag me into the town square, there is a part 3. I was trying to get it all but it would have been really long. I’m in the process of writing it now to have it ready before the end of the year. If you want to get someone, my hubby told me to tell you nothing about a third part. Anyway, the next one will be finale of this diva’s performance as far as I know. He very much knows what he wants. I will be blending 2 prompts together for the last one. I hope you enjoyed this addition that I never planned on but just happened.

@deepperplexity @vulnus-sanare @mamawolfsmith87 @snowblossomreads

[kingkatsuki]

Bakugou Katsuki & @katsukikitten

How you meet.

You’d been waiting years for the MCR reunion to happen, so you’d entered the main arena and found a space in the crowd for their set almost forty minutes before they were due to come on. Sipping your drink as you weaved through the crowd to get as close as possible to the stage.

When they finally came on, the crowd came alive. Pits opening up all over the festival site as people began to dance and sing to every song, you included. Downing the rest of your drink before deciding to jump into one of the larger pits to the right of you. Knocking into another girl as you both sang the lyrics to each other before skipping around in a circle, until you felt the wind almost knocked out of you as you were thrown to the ground.

The large, muscular guy that knocked you over didn’t even glance down at you, nevermind give you an apology. Your legs knocked and kicked as the pit continued on around you, and you weren’t sure you could get back up, until a blond guy practically shoved someone out of the way to wrap his palms around your arms and hoisted you up as though you weighed nothing. He was such a gentleman he even flattened your skirt— certain everyone had probably seen your knickers when you were knocked to the ground.

You clung to him as he guided you out of the pit, a palm on your face to tilt your head to meet his gaze as vermilion eyes stared back at you. The slightest nod of his head as he was silently asking over the loud music if you were okay, checking for himself as your eyes stared back at him.

Thank you for the Venom just finished playing as he left you just as quickly as he’d found you, disappearing back into the sea of people. The pit no longer moving in a circle as he sought out the guy that had knocked you to the ground. Shouldering him roughly as a crowd formed around them.

“When someone falls you pick ‘em back up, you prick.” Bakugou growled as he swung for the guy, but the asshole was fucking lucky the punch didn’t land as a redheaded guy now appeared to hold him back, “Are you fuckin’ stupid?”

“Girls shouldn’t be in the pit anyway, man.” The douchebag laughed and just as you were about to give him a piece of your mind, a pink haired girl— the same one you’d been dancing with earlier— beat you to it. Shoving him back as she dared him to say it again.

But what you hadn’t expected was for the blond guy to come and stand back beside you, occasionally disappearing back into the pit during certain songs, but he always found his way back to you. His palms rested on your hips to stop you from being knocked too hard when the crowd got rowdy, dangerously close to your ass— not that you would’ve minded.

When they played the final song and the crowd began to disperse Bakugou finally turned to you, asking if you were okay. Staying with you as the arena began to empty and everyone went back to their tents. He ended up walking you back to yours and agreed to meet you the next day when Green Day were headlining the main stage (“someone’s gotta look after your dumbass”) stealing a kiss before he left to go back to his tent.

Second night he kissed you during Good Riddance and his hand definitely disappears up your skirt to squeeze your ass, your lipstick ends up all over his face and his friends roast him for it— doesn’t stop him from spending the night in your tent though👀

[ferfan14]

FORMULA One ace Fernando Alonso spent all night testing a stunning new model... and ended up coming second.

The supercharged Spaniard drove foxy Felicity Jaine wild in a marathon romp just hours before racing at Silverstone.

But when Fernando, 25, had to perform on the race track the next day he had nothing left in the tank.

"His stamina in bed blew my mind — he could literally go on for hours," said Felicity, 24.

"I wasn't looking at a watch, but at one point we'd been doing it for so long I considered stopping because my thighs were aching so much."

Felicity also revealed how the pocket hunk insists on wearing ‘lucky' Y-fronts for every race. And he should have kept them on that night—because he was beaten in the 2005 Grand Prix.

"When he got out of the car he shook his head at me, then gave me a knowing look," said Felicity.

"For Fernando the only place to finish is first and I knew he blamed our non-stop love-making the night before. But he thought the sex was worth it."

The relationship lasted two months but just three weeks ago the driver, now dating a Spanish pop star, texted Felicity asking her to join him at his hotel in Woking — near his McClaren Mercedes team's HQ.

Felicity, a film graduate from Shropshire, first met him at Goodwood Festival of Speed. He left with her number and days later took her for a meal in London with friends.

Then he invited her back to his place in Oxfordshire—and things started to move up a gear. "We were in the back while his Spanish mates were in the front and we snogged the whole way home," Felicity giggled. "I remember having really sore lips because of his stubble.

"Fernando was getting really turned on. He undid my shirt and slipped his hands underneath my pink Topshop bra. His friends were sat just inches away in the front seat and that was pretty sexy.

Belly

"I never expected him to be like that because he was so polite and reserved. But on that back seat he said goodbye to all manners.

"At one point, I was leaning against the door and he was laid down on his front between my legs.

"He tugged down the zip on my jeans and kissed the bit of skin above my knickers, just below my belly button. It was very sensual. We only kissed, but if the journey had been longer, more would definitely have gone on."

Within moments of arriving at Fernando's apartment the pair went into overdrive. Felicity said: "He closed his bedroom door and undressed me. It was slow and so sexual.

"All I could hear was his soft panting as he unbuttoned my shirt, unhooked my bra then pulled down my jeans. Sex with him was never animalistic—there was no ripping off of clothes. Everything was romantic and loving."

And Felicity admitted: "I'm usually a wildcat in bed, but because he was so sensitive I held back a bit. I didn't want to scare him off.

"I was nervous sleeping with him for the first time. When I was younger I'd read my dad's Grand Prix magazine and wonder how girls got drivers as boyfriends.

"Suddenly that was me. I thought, ‘Bloody hell, I'm in bed with Alonso'. It was like a dream." World champ Fernando, favourite to win today's race on home territory, also likes taking risks in bed. Felicity explained: "Once, his friends were in the other room and in the morning we had sex with the door open. Fernando loved the fact he could be spotted at any moment. He was dangerous like that and that turned me on."

His physique also left her in awe. "Fernando's short, about 5ft 6ins, but he's built like a muscle machine.

Hair

"And his chest is funny because only half of it grows hair." She admits it was his accent that turned her on the most. "I asked him to talk in Spanish during sex because I love the accent —it's so romantic," she sighed. "I've not got a clue what he said but it sounded gorgeous."

But the language barrier was a problem at times. "He'd say, ‘There's so much that I want to say to you but I can't translate them'. That frustrated me so much so I tried to teach him as much English as I could.

One time I asked him what he thinks about when he drives. He said, ‘The next corner ...but when I'm on a straight I think about you'."

During their months together, Fernando introduced Felicity to his dad, Jose Luis, but she never met his mum, Ana—a woman the multi-millionaire ace secretly thinks is a jinx.

"When he was at the Hungarian Grand Prix, Fernando told me that his mum was going to be there and he wasn't happy," said Felicity.

"He told me she's bad luck." And he was right—he finished 11th.

Fernando dumped Felicity and is now with singer Raquel del Rosario— but three weeks ago came the text asking Felicity to visit his hotel.

She refused. "Part of me wanted to but I didn't want to make it easy for him," she said. "He really hurt me."

In fact, if she had to do the same again...she wouldn't, Fernando.

[wizardingworldlibrary]

Neville Longbottom + Female Pairings Masterlist

A Bumpy Ride (ao3) - spicyxpisces neville/pansy E, 4k

Summary: Pansy accompanies Professor Longbottom to the Hogwarts Hallow’s Eve Festival.

A Dress with Pockets (ao3) - PacificRimbaud neville/pansy E, 24k

Summary:

Pansy Parkinson needed a drink. And a shag. She didn't care in which order. Enter: Neville fucking Longbottom and his rolled up sleeves.

Beneath the Oak Tree (ao3) - LumosLyra hermione/neville E, 4k

Summary: Her knickers were ruined.

And all because Neville Longbottom was carrying bags of soil into the greenhouse the muggle way.

Breath of Life (ao3) - ChatterChick hannah/neville M, 21k

Summary: They were happy. They were healthy. Their lives were coming beautifully together. Follow Neville and Hannah Longbottom on their journey to start their family.

Captured (ao3) - sportivetricks (tamlane) hermione/neville E, 9k

Summary: “Do you want to pretend we’re strangers?”

Neville and Hermione play a game of captor and captive.

Dressed in Holiday Style (ao3) - ladyknightley hannah/neville T, 5k

Summary: It’s the first of December, and Hannah Abbott has a very important task in front of her: decorating the Leaky Cauldron. She knows just who to ask for help…

Étoile des Neiges (ao3) - BloodyFlammable draco/harry, hermione/ron, seamus/dean, hannah/neville M, 32k

Summary: Potter was leaning against the doorframe, feet bare, jeans low on his hips, ear pierced, nose red from the cold. He was smirking as if the sole purpose of his existence was to drive Draco crazy.

The eighth years spend the holidays in a French ski resort and Draco comes to terms with his feelings.

Herbology (ao3) - Celandine neville/luna E, 3k

Summary: Neville gets an idea from an old Herbology book, and needs Luna’s help.

Hogwarts Sexpress (ao3) - MultiverseFantasy harry/ginny, neville/luna E, 8k

Summary: Ginny Weasley has always wanted to have sex with her boyfriend on The Hogwarts Express, so utilizing his invisibility cloak, she and Harry find an empty compartment in order to fulfill the girls fantasy. But this go off the rails when the pair are interrupted by Luna and Neville who, it turns out, we’re thinking the exact same thing…

Holiday Spirit (ao3) - thefrenchpress neville/pansy T, 3k

Summary: Pansy hates the holidays. So why in Merlin’s name did she let Draco talk her into attending this holiday party with him?

It Was Home (ao3) - mccngazer hermione/neville E, 3k

Summary: It has been five years since the Battle of Hogwarts. Five years since Hermione’s two best friends were murdered in front of her. Five years since she watched a friend kill his own parents. Neville and Hermione are now soldiers whose jobs are to take out as many Deatheaters as possible and sometimes taking out some built up stress is the only thing that keeps them sane.

Lily’s Boy (ao3) - SomewheresSword draco/harry, remus/snape, neville/ginny, sirius/charlie E, 746k

Summary: Before his third year of Hogwarts has even begun, Harry faces three whole weeks of unsupervised time in Diagon Alley. In that time he takes a trip to Gringotts - and that changes everything.Burdened with the knowledge that Dumbledore has been blocking his family magic, and manipulating far more than he ever thought possible, Harry doesn’t know who he can trust; but he knows he can’t keep going that way. There’s a whole world of lore and politics and history to catch up on, and the more he learns, the more Harry realises his true place in the world, and how much is being kept hidden from him. All the while, Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes are constantly watching, and Harry can’t let on how much he knows.With help from unexpected places, Harry starts on a journey to end the war, and reshape the wizarding world. With how much he looks like James Potter, people have forgotten one important thing about him - he is Lily Evans’ son, and she was one hell of a witch.

Neville Longbottom and the Truly Terrible Tasting Tea (ao3) - of_an_evening hermione/neville E, 34k

Summary: Neville’s finally back from his research trip to the Arctic, so Hermione pops by for a quick cuppa and a catchup.

Things do not go quite to plan.

Featuring: a twist on the sex pollen plot device; Neville Longbottom’s pureness and lack thereof; friends, or the people you most want to murder; implied workplace prejudices; the Chudley Cannons; digressions on textiles; an uncanny dog; another twist; and, a Hallowe'en party.

Pansies On My Skin (ao3) - melanoradrood neville/pansy E, 12k

Summary: Pansy owns a Tattoo Parlour. Neville owns the Flower Shop next door.

Bad bitch meets golden retriever. Mix them together, and what have you got?

The Panville Tattoo Parlour/Flower Shop AU that we all desperately needed!

Red Light Rendezvous (ao3) - Mamapotterhead2492 daphne/neville, pansy/ron, hermione/rabastan E, 5k

Summary: Three single Gryffindors are looking for their next adrenaline fueled adventure in the shadows of Knockturn Alley’s red light district. Will they find the proper thrills? Or sinful seductions?

Seared with Scars (ao3) - tks_whatnot neville/luna T, 7k

Summary: Luna and Neville are having a tough time moving on from what they went through in the War when they are visited by a ghost of their past.

Seedling (ao3) - AlihotsyTotsy neville/pansy G, 2k

Summary: Quick glimpses of the relationship between Augusta and Neville Longbottom during summer breaks.

The Magic of a Half Eaten Box of Chocolates (ff.net) - Realmer06 neville/hannah T, 8k

Summary: When he thought about it, Neville found that he could define his relationship with Hannah Abbott through three key moments. He hopes to add a fourth to the mix, but unfortunately, his proposal isn’t going as planned.

The Wolf Pack (ao3) - dracogotgame draco/harry, neville/luna T, 13k

Summary: Nobody said achieving your animagus form was easy. Draco could handle being a wolf pup for a while, right? How bad could it be?

Time Makes You Bolder(ao3) - NuclearNik neville/pansy T, 3k

Summary: Returning to Hogwarts to repeat his final year, Neville finds himself unexpectedly intrigued by Pansy Parkinson

[dramioneasks]

Hi hi hiii do you have any recommendation with confident kind of cocky draco? I really want to read light stories too, hope you can help. Thank you

Tick, Tick, Boom by DayDreamVenture - T, one-shot - Hermione and Draco made a deal... but he was running late. Staring up at the clock on her kitchen wall, Hermione wondered what was taking him so long.

Fractured and Heated by FirewhiskySoul  - E, one-shot - He doesn’t need words to distract her as she Heals his broken bones.

Safe Word is House Elf by orphan_account - E, one-shot - “I could show you, you know.” He settled back into the chair and grinned. “Let me into that swotty brain of yours. I’ll show you exactly how I’d fuck you raw.” Hermione would like to say she thought about it. Weighed the pros and cons. Planned for what could possibly happen. However, with what had become the normal around Malfoy, she jumped right in without once thinking about the consequences. Her voice came out shaky when she replied with a simple, “Please.” “Safe word is ‘House-Elf.”

What Lurks Inside the Corn Maze by erininoctober - M, one-shot - Struggling to stay on top of her classwork, Harry and Ron convince Hermione to take a break and join them for some pre-Halloween festivities.

Waiting For The Bite by rapunzerelli, Sophiesstreet - E, one-shot - Members of notoriously rivaled species, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger have only two things in common: a mutual hatred and a soulmate bond they unfortunately share. But when their lives are threatened by lingering followers of Voldemort and their bond forces them to protect each other, they find themselves thanking fate instead of blaming it.

White Knickers by pigfarts2001 - M, 3 chapters - Hermione has an embarrassing encounter with Draco in their shared dorm room, and can't stop replaying it in her head. Apparently, neither can he - but for different reasons.

-Lisa

[wonderingabout]

i can’t sleep! i need to wake up in a little less than 6 hours to go catch a coach to a music festival! Thursday to Sunday!! i’m sooo anxious- i have not been to a music festival since before covid. so 5 years!

i am going to list everything i have packed under the cut

~~~~~~

two dresses

two long sleeved tops

pair of leggings

five pairs of socks

6 pairs of knickers

all in a plastic bag

camp stove

camping cookware- pan, wooden spoon, kettle, etc

a small metal bowl with a lid

metal fork, knife, and spoon, wrapped in a hanky

sanrio chopsticks

a little wooden spoon

a knife

a small chopping board (? am i being ridiculous??)

lentils and rice

a stock cube

a little jar of salt and spices ready for dhal

a block of creamed coconut

three instant udon noodle packets

small block of firm tofu

coffee

3 chai and 4 roibos teabags

sugar crystals

carton of soy milk

dates

soreen loaf

dried apricots

cashews

olive oil

a little battery powered lamp

finn family moomin troll by tove jansson (small book)

the magic toy shop by angela carter (second small book)

coach tickets, festival tickets, accessibility tickets, all printed out in a ziplock bag

pack of playing cards

sleeping bag

sleeping mat (actually my yoga mat)

picnic blanket

my brothers tent

pillow/eye mask combo

camping towell

flannel and soap

washing up liquid, cloth, sponge and scrubber

lip balm

diary

fountain pen

spare ink cartridges (one turquoise one purple)

tarot cards

film camera

my shabbat phone

charging cable

antibiotics, anti histamines, paracetamol, ibuprofen

my card, my id, and a tenner

string

probably other things too i am so anxious and over prepared !!!! wow

things i still need to pack!!

toothbrush

toothpaste

????? the kitchen sink

also things i have packed in a little coolbag in the fridge that i hope i will remember

veggie sausages

cheese triangles

plums

6 small bottles of beer

i could put some mustard in this bag?? that would be a good idea

maybe a small onion! or a carrot. or a courgette. i will put half the fridge in there if i can

i still need to bake cookies 🥲

[invisibleicewands]

A mum shouldn’t have to go to her child’s funeral’: Sharon Horgan and Michael Sheen on making moving TV

f Best Interests – a drama about a mother who takes the NHS to court after doctors decide to allow her teenage daughter to die – feels too harrowing to countenance, you’re not alone: even the cast can’t bring themselves to watch it. “It was hard enough doing it on the day,” says Sharon Horgan of playing Nicci, the mother in question. Michael Sheen, who co-stars as her husband Andrew – a man devastated by his daughter’s illness but unwilling to back his wife’s appeal – is also avoiding it. “I’m more nervous than usual,” he admits. “I know it’s going to be a difficult watch.”

That’s an understatement. Best Interests begins with Nicci and Andrew on a train, giddily happy, slightly frisky and, as we soon realise, uncharacteristically carefree. Over the next four hours, we see their relationship falter under the pressure of caring for their younger daughter Marnie (Niamh Moriarty) who has muscular dystrophy, as consultants tell them her condition has progressed beyond all medical intervention – something that leads Nicci to mount a headline-grabbing, life-upending legal challenge. It’s little wonder Horgan had doubts about taking the role in the first place. “I was really nervous about how much this was going to fuck me up,” she says. It ended up being as crushing as she feared. “We spent a lot of time in terrible pain. You have to go to some really awful places to get yourself into that mindset and stay there. Sometimes you come home and go: ‘What kind of a weird job is this?’”

And yet – and this is the caveat that makes the show not simply a gruelling experience, but a life-affirming and thoroughly absorbing one – Best Interests is also very funny. There is droll banter about crisps in waiting rooms, there are silly jokes about knickers and, after the unthinkable finally happens, there is daft familial teasing. “People will be put through the wringer,” says Horgan. “But we want this to feel like a real family, and in real families – even when they are in the worst possible situation – people laugh.” That said, desolation is never far away: at one point, Andrew is reading The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole at Marnie’s bedside when an inadvertently pertinent passage prompts a flood of tears: at moments such as these, the show dances between comedy and tragedy in a remarkable way. Thankfully, it is not quite the slapstick affair it could have been. “I remember doing a very stupid dance at one point, I don’t know if that’s still in?” Sheen asks tentatively. I tell him it’s not ringing any bells. “That probably means it’s not there, so that’s good!”

Instead we have Sheen’s Andrew as a slouchy, goofy beta male, who enjoys 90s indie and the odd spliff, and is an expert teller of comfortingly lame dad jokes (such is the casual majesty of Sheen’s performance, he has already won the best actor award at French TV festival Series Mania). Horgan is equally brilliant as Nicci, a weary but awe-inspiringly on-it woman suffused with the actor’s trademark wincingly honest wit. While Sheen is a garlanded dramatic actor who was well established in theatre before becoming film-star famous in the 00s for his exceptional impersonations (Tony Blair, David Frost, Brian Clough, Kenneth Williams), Horgan is still best known for her pioneering TV comedy. From gritty sitcom Pulling to dramedy Catastrophe and recent hit Bad Sisters, she is now a giant of the genre; as a serious actor, however, her career is only just taking off. “If you’re known for comedy, people don’t generally throw a lot of dramas at you,” she says.

In 2021, she was a revelation in pandemic drama Together, written by her Pulling co-creator Dennis Kelly, yet Horgan feels Nicci is her “most dramatically led role” – another reason she’s not keen to watch it back. “I just don’t want to get all hypercritical on myself. I did it – there’s nothing I can do about it now!” Horgan says she has always wanted to do comedy and drama simultaneously, and is happy the genre binaries are melting away. “Back in the day I used to do a lot more sitcom-style shows, and now it blends a lot: a lot of dramas are really funny and a lot of comedies … aren’t,” she says, dissolving into laughter at her damning critique of the current comedy landscape. “What I mean is some of my favourite things, like The Bear, there’s not many laughs in it.”

I speak to Horgan and Sheen separately over Zoom – the former perched on her bed, the latter bearded and avuncular in a tartan shirt, sitting in his office in Margam Park near Port Talbot, where he’s about to direct BBC drama The Way. (So idyllic are his surroundings that he pauses to show me two gambolling baby deer from his window.) They may be miles apart, but the pair are very much on the same page when it comes to Best Interests. Instead of meticulously researching the kind of media circus court cases that inspired the drama (the 2017 case of Charlie Gard being perhaps the most famous example), they opted to come to the action unschooled, as they imagine Nicci and Andrew would have been. And while both were left awed by the parents with disabled children they met – “I just don’t know how I would have the strength in that situation,” says Horgan – they ended up drawing primarily on their own personal experiences.

Sheen found himself recalling his own family history while thinking about the cosmic horror of losing a child. “My grandmother’s son – my uncle – died of cancer while she was still alive. I always remember her saying a mother should not have to go to her child’s funeral. That just shouldn’t happen.” He was also reckoning with anxieties of his own. During the filming of the show, Sheen’s partner Anna Lundberg was pregnant with their second child and the due date was fast approaching. Then the pregnancy turned out to be “not completely straightforward”, Sheen says. “There were some fears about our unborn baby, and if there are any kinds of complications or worries that really weighs on you.” The stress filtered into his performance, especially when it came to the heartbreaking flashback scenes in which a six-month-old Marnie’s bewildered parents receive her diagnosis.

For Horgan, Nicci’s story was incredibly close to home. “My kid had meningitis when she was young,” she says (Horgan has two teenage daughters with her ex-husband, businessman Jeremy Rainbird). “While we thought we might lose her – as I was watching them trying to find a vein and get some antibiotics into her – I remember thinking: ‘I don’t care what happens – like, take off her limbs, whatever you need to do – just keep her alive.’”

In Best Interests, the story of Nicci, Andrew and Marnie (plus elder daughter Katie, played with mild insolence by Conversations With Friends’ Alison Oliver) doesn’t exist in a vacuum. In recent years, writer Jack Thorne – one of the most respected figures in British TV – has dedicated himself to making programmes about people with disabilities, partly because of his own struggles: he suffered from a debilitating long-term illness in his 20s, and was recently diagnosed with autism. In 2021 he made Help, which starred Jodie Comer as a carer looking after a man with early-onset Alzheimer’s (Stephen Graham) in the pandemic, and last year he created Then Barbara Met Alan, a one-off drama about the founders of the Disabled People’s Direct Action Network, a protest group fighting for disabled people’s rights.

According to Sheen and Horgan, Thorne’s advocacy for disabled people permeated the entire shoot. The cast was populated by actors with disabilities: Moriarty, who has a form of cerebral palsy called spastic diplegia, is joined by Lenny Rush, the Bafta-winning breakout star of Am I Being Unreasonable? who has dwarfism, and Mat Fraser, an actor and activist with thalidomide-induced phocomelia. Behind the scenes, things were just as inclusive. “Our set photographer was hearing-impaired, the person shadowing our director was a wheelchair user – there was an enormous amount of diversity,” says Horgan. “It just felt like this is the world we live in and unfortunately TV and film doesn’t usually represent that.” There was an attitude of presumed equality. Sheen remembers coming to do a scene and “in the script there was no mention of a physical disability and then the actor who did it had a physical disability and it was not a thing. That was so refreshing.”

The show wears its politics lightly, though. Even the Christian pressure group Nicci turns to in desperation is portrayed with relative ambivalence – after all, says Sheen, “you don’t want to wink at the audience about how you feel about the characters”. Thorne is too clever a writer for obvious didacticism, and while you might come away feeling conflicted – or even disgusted – by the legal process that has lawyers brutally picking holes in the parents and consultants in court, it’s hard to envisage what could replace it.

What you will be invariably left with, however, is a sense of the existential struggle those with disabled children face in a society unwilling to accommodate them. Sheen remembers Thorne talking about the attitude towards disabled people in the pandemic: “that somehow people with disabilities were slightly more dispensable and anyone dying through Covid who had disabilities, it wasn’t as big a deal as people who didn’t have them.” For Horgan, playing Nicci alerted her to a system that “sees disabled life as less important. Everything she gets for Marnie is a struggle, whether it’s equipment or a wheelchair or education. Her life is battling.”

It’s a sad, outrageous truth, which this excellent drama unflinchingly captures. Yet the show is also keen to emphasise that this is just one element of life with a disabled child. Despite its tragic ending, the real beauty – and, for me, lasting impression – of Best Interests is the way it evokes the overwhelming joy that comes with parenting any child, whatever the difficulties. The worst of times, yes – but also the best.

[renee-writer]

Gold Dust Woman Chapter 17

AO3

They find Boone bigger then expected but smaller than New York. They will be there a week, mainly on vacation. Mary and Claire share a rented cabin near the festival. All share spaces.

 

One morning, Claire gets up needing fresh air. She asks Jamie to take a horse ride. “I haven’t been on a horse for years and would love to ride with you.” Said with a straight face.

 

“A ride lass?” he is smirking, “would you wish to ride with me or on your own.” His smile would melt chocolate.

 

“Well,” she draws it out, “I would like to ride with you. You have more experience with horse flesh, you see. I can ride on your back.”

 

She walks towards the stables with a swish of her hips that has him thinking indecent thoughts. Lord, she will be the death of him.

 

“So, you want to ride my back, lass? Won’t that be taken our friendship to something else? For, I don’t let just anyone ride me.” He replies after picking his face up.

 

“I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Fraser.” She looks over her shoulder, given him a shy smile with sultry eyes and swaying hips. Jamie has known for a while that he was in love with her but now, what game is she about?

 

They enter the stables and walk over to a beast of a horse, a black named Thunder. Alex, in charge of the stables, frowns. “You don’t want to be playing with that one. He has his own head and it is a stubborn one.”

 

Jamie laughs. “I have one like him in Scotland. A clodheid named Donas.”

 

Claire walks right up to Thunder and whispers Gaelic words to him. The beast is soon nuzzling her hand while the man stand and stare, wide eyed, neither believing it.

 

“That one is a keeper.” Alex says to Jamie.

 

“Aye.”

 

Thunder it is. They mount him, with Claire holding tight to his back. As they head out  she whispers, “Mo  dhuine milis their air turas mi.” to him. He starts the horse, at a gallop, towards the lake. Thunder wants to run and doesn’t stop until he reaches water.

 

“Come, take a swim with me.” Claire says.

 

“We have no clothes to get in the water with.”

 

She grins, “So.” As she starts to pull her clothes off. Finally, down to her knickers, which she flips on to the shore beside him before slipping in.

 

After he catches his breath, he does the same. When he gets down to his boxers, he paused, facing her and making sure he has her attention before slipping them down.

 

“I am disappointed you didn’t go commando.” She states.

 

He shrugs. “I usually do.” Before joining her. He takes her waist, pulling her close, before kissing her hard. They both know this will change everything.

[diabetesinsider]

Sugar Skull knickers pocket cotton elastic at waist and leg openings ready to ship

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Día de Los Muertos - Day of the Dead - Bright - Fun - Lively - just like you! Grinning skulls and full on skeletons populate this colorful festive print. There is a front patch pocket (4 1/2" deep by 5 1/2" wide) and frothy lace trim (photo 3) at each leg ruffle. This is sewn from new and upcycled materials, all cotton fabric.

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