Pinned
hi, welcome here ☆
``☆ my askbox is open for whatever asks about marauders era ships or characters !
— ☆ my microfics ;
jegulus || wolfstar || jegulily || rosekiller || moonwater || black brothers || pandalily || regulily
Reblogged where-is-vivian
your wip just called. hey man your wip just called. its asking where you've been man.
Reblogged where-is-vivian
i've never been married but i've been divorced at least 3 times
Reblogged
recently, I was introduced to html coding on ao3, and now I'm editing my third work, adding small but incredibly useful details.
so now the texting in my works looks like this [on the screenshots 'that purring in my chest'], which I'm incredibly happy about. it's not much and it's minimalistic, but it brings me a lot of pleasure!
[tutorial]
useful ao3 tips!!! this is genuinely such a well laid out resource and even though i do have a html coding background i feel like it still makes it clear and easy enough for non-coders to understand too!!
I'm absolute newbie to coding and I do confirm it's very friendly to newbies!
recently, I was introduced to html coding on ao3, and now I'm editing my third work, adding small but incredibly useful details.
so now the texting in my works looks like this [on the screenshots 'that purring in my chest'], which I'm incredibly happy about. it's not much and it's minimalistic, but it brings me a lot of pleasure!
[tutorial]
Reblogged katakosmos
Sometimes a ship exists purely because its hot to imagine them fuck
☆ Friday snippet !
thanks for the tag @where-is-vivian ♡
this is a part of 'long story short' chapter 3, a scene with james comforting lily
Her bare feet are dipped in the water and Lily moves them in the cool liquid, enjoying this little bit of comfort. She tries to concentrate on the way the pool's lights shimmer in the small waves she creates. The tiles beneath her thighs are warm and unpleasantly sticky, but Lily can't find the strength to get up and return to her room.
A moment later, she hears the sound of the door to the hotel courtyard opening behind her, and she glances over her shoulder - James never keeps her waiting. It's one of the things she loves most about him, but unfortunately, it's also one of the things she sometimes uses selfishly. Like right now, because Lily needs his strong arm to squeeze her shoulder, hug her, and help her leave that damned women's restroom where her thoughts are still locked.
“It's not that this is my favorite hotel in the area, but this pool? It makes me want to come back,” James says with a smile, deftly lowering himself beside Lily and dipping his feet into the water next to hers.
Lily almost smiles back, her eyes riveted on the contrast between their legs - James's are broader, his runner's muscles showing beneath the skin. Even with the self-tanner, Lily's skin is lighter, almost doll-like in contrast to the man's hair-covered skin. Lily has forgotten the last time she saw her legs with even a hint of natural hair. Was it before or after her first cameo role at the beginning of her career? She resists the urge to reach out and stroke a strong man's thigh to remember the feeling of short hair under her fingers. It has been many months since she was with a man for the last time.
it's not Friday anymore, buuut no pressure tags ☆ @katakosmos @vespeelira @lonely-parrot @constellationskate
Reblogged
Age gap rosekiller microfic
for @vanitatum-vanitass ; explicit; word count: 1215
When Evan notices the handle on his office door moving, he knows it's Barty before he sees him. He's the only one allowed in now.
It's evening, the office has closed. Barty is sweaty and tired and, during the day, his clothes have lost their neat appearance. He slides into the office with a disgusted face and looks at Evan, communicating a thousand emotions to him in a single glance.
Evan laughs. “What is it?”
Barty shudders. He grabs the folder under his arm and walks from door to the desk in a few strides. As always, he slides it towards Evan, nudging it with one finger, keeping an unnecessary-but-always-delightful eye contact.
Evan takes it, slumping in his chair. “So?”
Barty snorts. “Michelle”. The other secretary. “She hates me, and makes my life hell.”
Evan opens the folder, looks at it quickly and puts it back in his desk drawer. Barty waits, looking bored.
“Michelle?” Evan asks in the end, starting to arrange the pens and papers scattered on his workstation, “It seems impossible to me, she's an angel of a girl.”
Barty rolls his eyes. “With you, maybe. But not with me, because she started to notice.”
Evan tilts his head slightly. “Notice what?”
It's an imperceptible movement, but Barty freezes for a second. He loses some of the indifference on his face, but he quickly regains his composure.
“That you don't fuck her anymore. That you only let me in here.”
It's a little thing Evan does. When he wants to let the young, new assistants know that he wants them—and the old ones that will soon be fired—he elevates them in position. From simple assistants to personal assistants. Barty noticed, he's a smart guy.
Evan granted him that privilege, but…
Barty rests his hands on the desk and leans forward slightly, looking down at Evan.
“She asked me if I like taking it, bent over the desk. What should I tell her?”
But Evan still hasn't fucked him.
Not because he doesn't like Barty. God, no. Evan is now past that denial phase. He probably likes cock. He sure likes Barty's.
The truth is, he's discovered, it turns him on much more to provoke Barty. Prolong the flirting. Seeing him blush, vibrate with anger, find the most absurd ways to bend over, show his ass, touch Evan, whisper in his ear. He never wants it to end.
Barty raises an eyebrow, daring him to answer.
Evan can only smile. “I have no idea. I shouldn't even be aware of the arguments between my employees.”
“You know,” Barty ignores him, “I'm almost offended that she assumed you weren't the one taking it.”
Evan keeps the eye contact for a few more seconds, just long enough to take a deep breath. But he's forced to give up.
He licks his lips. “I remember you said something about choking on it…”
He sees Barty's moment of realization in his eyes: they light up. In the end, even though he promised himself he wouldn't, he let him win.
Barty pushes back, getting back to his feet. He looks at the time—it's very late, they should have been home for a while—and then at the small security camera on the corner between the wall and the ceiling. It's programmed to turn on at closing time, and it's filming them.
Evan observes Barty with curiosity: what is he going to do?
He runs a hand through his hair and goes back to the desk.
“Oops” he says, dropping the empty coffee cup in front of him to the floor.
Evan raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, look! It fell,” Barty continues, kicking it under the desk, “I should really pick it up.”
Confused, Evan is about to laugh in his face, but suddenly Barty kneels down and slides under the table, disappearing from his sight.
A few seconds later Evan feels hands unzipping his pants.
He opens his eyes wide. “What-”
“I swear, I can't find it… Get your ass up for a second.”
Evan obeys, his ears ringing. Barty, hastily, grabs his pants and pulls them down along with his underwear, just enough for his cock to be free.
Evan groans, embarrassed, hiding his face in his hands while Barty waits with watchful eyes for him to get fully hard. Then he wastes no time, immediately wrapping a hand around Evan's cock and starts stroking it.
“Found it” he says.
Evan leans back, peering underneath him. Barty is kneeling between his legs, distracted, grabbing the cup with his free hand. He raises his gaze and meets Evan's with a smile, continuing to jerk him off listlessly, as if that were normal for him.
“Ready?” he then asks Evan.
He doesn't give him time to respond, he licks his lips and takes Evan into his mouth.
It's a messy blowjob. For Evan. Not for Barty, who knows exactly what he's doing. He pushes his cock down his throat, deeper and deeper, stopping every time he gags and then starting again. His mouth is warm, he hollows his cheeks, and then also tight. He caresses Evan's cock with his tongue and his piercing touches all the places he likes best.
Evan really has to hold back so he doesn't come. He has a hand in Barty's hair and moves his head, even though Barty's in control.
“Ba–”
He throws his head back, stifling a moan, when suddenly he hears a noise coming from outside his office.
His gaze snaps to the door, attentive.
“What was that?” he asks, loosening his grip on Barty's hair.
He lets go of Evan's cock with a pop.
“I don't care,” he says, digging his nails into Evan's thighs, “Look at me.”
In the next thirty seconds—in which Barty jerks Evan's cock one last time, brings it back to his lips, and takes it into his mouth while looking at Evan—he comes.
Completely slumped in the chair and moaning without restraint. His cum fills Barty's mouth, who waits for his orgasm to end before pulling away.
“Oh.”
His heart beats so fast that Evan fears it might explode. As the post-orgasm confusion leaves him, making him only slightly dizzy, Barty stands up, clutching the cup.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
Stunning, oh, truly stunning. All the anger and desire, finally satisfied, softened his face. His tired eyes are clouded with fog, but, together with his flushed cheeks and swollen lips, they give him a jaunty look.
The only thing Evan can say, when faced with him, is: “I'm thirsty.”
Barty staggers over to the desk with a crooked smile, and puts the cup down. “I'm such a good assistant, I always think of your needs. You can drink this.”
Evan doesn't need to look to know what he'll find inside the cup. His breath catches in his throat.
Barty chuckles, fixing his hair as he approaches the door. Before leaving, he turns around. There's a wet stain on his pants.
Evan grips the chair to keep from jumping up and running towards him.
He smiles. “Do you need anything else?”
Evan shakes his head.
“Good,” Barty replies, satisfied, “Remember to pay me overtime.”
Then he leaves, like every day, while Evan puts himself back in his pants.
Reblogged
hello love, what's your favorite bartylus hc?
hiiii
well this is a GOOD question, cause the truth is that i have a strange relationship with bartylus. it's one of those ships i love reading about but i don't really feel like it belongs to me, so it's hard for me to think about it (ps: @pansyfilia i saw your ask (bartylus microfic if you don't remember) and i swear i have the idea, i just have to find the motivation to write). sometimes i can't even imagine barty and regulus being friends.
i still think one of my favorite headcanons is deaf regulus. i'm a lover of the most unrealistic toxic stories, but sometimes i'm a softie too. communicating with a deaf person requires commitment, patience and understanding. thinking that a person can revolutionize their way of communicating just to exchange a few words with you... it's like, the supreme act of love for me.
also, when i was studying lis (italian sign language), my teacher explained to me that—obviously—physical contact is essential to get the attention of a deaf person. and this is something that we italians DON'T do, even if everyone seems to say otherwise. when we communicate, we rarely touch people, especially strangers. so, if regulus is deaf and barty's italian, it's a further revolution for him, who has to unlearn his habits and discover a new way of communicating entirely.