I Don't WANT To Read Smut Right Now

i don't WANT to read smut right now

i WANT to read a passionate, poetic, jaw dropping, tears streaking down my face, heart wrenching, giggle inducing, feet kicking, cringy yet amazing, gorgeous story written by someone who apologizes for english not being their first language(they're the best writers ever) which has 4 chapters and then makes me scream because it hasnt been updated in months and the author is mia

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10 months ago
9 months ago

A trip to 12 Grimmauld Place

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Request: I saw the trip to diagon alley fic I love the idea of Remus and reader adopting Harry and not telling anyone and also them having their own biological children I was wondering if you could make more like this maybe where their kids are older

Maybe even include some uncle Sirius when he escapes from Azkaban and they visit him at grimmauld place

Warnings: Pregnancy

A/N: Part of the Domestic Bliss universe but can be read alone!

A/N2: How much do you guys want me to mess with canon? I feel that growing up in a loving home (but specifically with Remus) means that Harry would probably be a different person and make different decisions.

Masterlist

A Trip To 12 Grimmauld Place

"Hurry up, boys." You called up the stairs. "Or your father and I will leave with ought you."

A series of thuds and crashes met your words. But you just fondly rolled your eyes as you got back to packing your bag, ready to go.

"First." A voice shouted before you felt a hand land on your shoulder.

"Oh, come on!" Another voice shouted. "That's not fair."

"You snooze, you lose." The voice closest to you called out.

"Hello, my dear." You laughed. Pressing a kiss to the top of Harry's head.

Then, only a moment later, you heard the sound of thundering feet as your other son, Teddy came charging down the stairs. Hurtling towards you.

Crashing into you, Teddy wrapped his arms around you.

"Hello, my love." you greeted. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, too.

"Are you two muppets ready to leave now?" You questioned them as you picked up your bag.

"Yeah." Harry grinned. Tugging at your arm as, he pulled you into the living room where Remus was waiting. 

Sat in his favourite armchair with a newspaper open on his lap.

When he heard the three of you enter the room, he folded the newspaper. Standing up, he deposited it back on his seat as he walked towards you and the boys.

"Shall we, my lady." Remus teased. Bowing to you in an overexaggerated way.

Laughing, you swatted at his arm as you led your boys out of the house. Make sure to lock the door behind you.

When you got out into the garden you grabbed a hold of Teddy as Remus took Harry.

"Everyone ready?" You called out.

When all your boys replied with sounds of agreement, you and Remus both disappeared with a pop.

Reappearing in a narrow alleyway just down from Grimuld place. 

Momenterly fussing over your boys, you made sure that no one had been spliced before you all walked out of the alleyway.

Harry and Teddy leapt ahead, teasing each other as they ran ahead. Rasing up to number 12. With his longer legs, Teddy ended up making it first. His hand reached for the knocker as he stuck his tongue out at Harry.

The door flew open not even a moment later as Sirues towering frame took over the doorway.

"Well, if it isn't the lupins," Sirius beamed as he took in the sight of your little family. "Come in, come in." He waved as she stepped to the side, allowing you all to come.

The moment the door was safely shut behind the five of you, and you were out of the foyer, Harry and Teddy threw themselves at Sirus.

Who only laughed. Wrapping them up in a great big hug.

"How are my favourite troublemakers?" Sirues questioned them.

Causing them to chatter on to him about there exploits as he momentarily comes over to you and Remus.

"And how are the pair of you?" Sirues questions quickly as he pulls you into a hug. Pressing a kiss to both your cheeks.

"We are good." Remus assured him. As he got pulled into his own hug by Sirues.

"How are you?" You asked Sirues softly.

"Oh I'm good." Sirues waved off your concern. "Same old, same old."

You only fondly smiled at him as Harry and Teddy came up to Sirues. Each grabbing him by an arm as together they pulled him off so they could carry on chatting his ear off about something.

You couldn't quite make out what they were saying, and quite frankly, you weren't sure if you wanted to.

Also, watching the scene from behind you, Remus snorted.

"if we left now, how long do you think it would take for them to notice?" He asked you teasingly.

"Don't say that." You laughed. Gently hitting him in the chest.

Laughing, Remus grabbed the offending hand and brought it to his lips. Dropping a delicate kiss to your knuckles you and Remus finally followed after the chaos that was your children and a certain Sirues black.

You followed the three of them into the living room, where Sirues was sitting in the middle of the sofa. One of your boys on either side as Harry, seemed to be narrating an exciting tale. His hands waving as Teddy and Sires just watched on. Occasionly nodding.

Smiling at the scene, you and Remus sat in the nearby Love seat. Your bodies pressed together as you fondly watched the scene in front of you.

You didn't know what you would do with ought your boys. They really were your whole world.

2 years ago
Smol Redraw
Smol Redraw

smol redraw

1 year ago

THIS SERIES IS SO GOOD! YALL SHOULD DEFINITELY CHECK IT OUT!!!!

This Is The Masterlist For My Story "With You"

This is the Masterlist for my story "With You"

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9a Part 9b Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Part 16: Conclusion Stay tuned!

My Masterlist


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1 year ago

Web of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara 

Web Of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara 

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 3.7K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut

Part I Part II Part III (coming soon)

In your universe, you are known as the Sun Spider. It all started on a school field trip to a solar energy research center, where you were accidentally exposed to a spider that had been subjected to intense solar radiation. You woke up with a white-hot surge of power, and your life changed forever. You donned a suit of pure white, taking the name that reflected both your newfound abilities and the brightness you brought into the world: Spider-Sun.

Your ability to harness solar energy and transform it into powerful blasts or create protective shields made you a formidable superhero in your home city, Nea Yorkey. Your ability to bring light to even the darkest corners of your city earned you the love of its citizens.

However, everything changed when you were suddenly pulled into the Spider-Verse.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by the gruff leader of this interdimensional team of Spider-People, Miguel O'Hara. His reputation preceded him - the genius intellect, the imposing figure, the gruff demeanor. Everyone respected him, and some even feared him. You, on the other hand, were drawn to him. There was something about that guarded demeanor that called to your own sunny nature.

You became an integral part of the team, fighting off anomalies and working hard to maintain the balance in the Spider-Verse. And despite Miguel's stern exterior, you felt yourself falling for him.

One mission was particularly rough, and you found yourself alone with Miguel in a safe house, nursing your wounds. His usually stern face softened as he tended to your injuries. The distance that he usually maintained was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank you, Miguel," you whispered.

He looked at you, his usually hard eyes soft. "You fought well, mi sol."

There was a moment of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, Miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was filled with unexpected passion.

In that moment, you were not the Sun Spider, and he was not the Spider-Man 2099. You were just two people, seeking solace in each other.

Afterwards, as you laid side by side, Miguel turned to you, a serious look on his face. "This...this can't be more than what it is. Just...you know, stress relief," he muttered, his voice just above a whisper.

His words wounded you. Naturally, they did. He had reduced your relationship to mere stress relief, as if you were some object devoid of feelings. Yet, in spite of it all, you fell for him. Perhaps you were naive, even foolish, but you didn't care. You yearned for him and were ready to accept any fraction of affection he was willing to offer, no matter how small.

During the day, as you fought alongside him against the anomalies threatening the Spider-Verse, his attention toward you was sparse. He mostly shared only necessary information, barely making eye contact. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, and you and the rest of the team would receive mission orders and briefings from Lyla, his AI assistant.

But at night, when the two of you were alone, he became a different person. He'd whisper praises into your ear, telling you how exceptionally you fought, how much he desired you. He showed you his hidden vulnerability under the cover of darkness, the sheets their only witness. He'd gently stroke your hair and peppered your jaw and temple with kisses until you fell asleep, only for you to wake up the next morning to an empty, cold spot where he once lay.

This cycle - his coldness by day, and the fervor by night - repeated itself relentlessly for months.

And so, this is how you find yourself: disoriented, frenzied, and on the verge of tears, seated on the couch of your best friend, Peter B. Parker, in Earth-616. Cradled in your arms is his sweet daughter, Mayday, who, with her innocent touch, tries to console you. Yet her wide eyes dart anxiously to her father, reflecting her own alarm at your distress.

Peter rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should wait until MJ gets home?" he suggests, then, with a furrowed brow, he asks, “Have you tried talking to Jess about this?”

You shake your head vigorously. "No, I haven't told anyone. I have no idea what to do," you confess, your voice breaking.

Peter, ever the caring friend, gently takes Mayday from your arms and sets her down. He turns back to face you with a sympathetic gaze. “Do you..eh.. know who the father is?” he inquires softly.

You shake your head again, even though deep down, you know the truth. “The father is out of the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will because he doesn’t want kids,” you whisper, fighting back tears.

As you and Peter sit down on the couch in his cozy living room, you find a sense of comfort being around him. His experience as both a superhero and a parent seems like it could be a beacon in this storm you're facing. The room is quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.

“You know, Peter,” you begin, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m terrified. What if the baby has powers? How am I going to protect them, especially if...if I can’t stop fighting anomalies?”

Peter looks thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. First, you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. There’s a whole community of us, and we stick together. If the child does have powers, she or he will be badass like Mayday, right?”

You nod slowly but then anxieties pile on top of each other in your mind. “But... how can I hide this? Nobody and I mean nobody is supposed to know that I’m pregnant. Especially not...” You trail off, not finishing the sentence.

Peter rubs his chin, deep in thought. “We could look into modifying your suit, maybe talk to some tech geniuses in the Spider-Verse about creating something that can shield or conceal the pregnancy.”

You roll your eyes. “That kinda defies the ‘nobody is allowed to know ‘ordeal, Peter. You have to promise me that this stays between us.”

“I promise,” Peter says sincerely.

Silence fills the room again, and then you voice another fear. “Peter, what if...what if I’m not a good mother? What if I mess this up?”

Peter smiles warmly. “You know, I had those same fears when Mayday was born. I think it’s normal for any parent. But, take it from me, the fact that you’re worried about being a good parent means you’re already on the right track. You’ve got a good heart. Trust it.”

You look down at your hands, fingers interlaced. “Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We’re family, in this weird, Spider-Verse kind of way. But maybe… and I am sayig this as a father myself… reconsider telling the father. I can’t imagine any guy wanting to give up this.” He says, pointing to his precious daughter playing with a napkin she found on the floor.

"Maybe you should reconsider telling the father," Peter's words are echoing in your mind like a haunting melody. A part of you yearns for that possibility. Perhaps you're not alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel wants this as much as you do.With newfound resolve, you set off for the Spider-Verse headquarters, expecting to find Miguel tucked away in his office, immersed in maintaining the spider verse or as he calls it "arachno- something-multiverse-thingy” or something similar to that.

Upon reaching his office door, you pound on it sharply. No response. Frowning, you knock again, a little harder this time. When silence continues to greet you, you slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside. There he is, hunched over his desk, lost in a world of numbers and codes.

"Miguel, I-" you start, but his sharp voice cuts you off.

"No," he interrupts, his tone cold. "Did I say you can come in? Dios mio, why are you always so damn clingy?"

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, taken aback by his blatant disregard for your feelings. You can feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you will them away.

He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it like that. This mantra plays over and over in your head, like a broken record. You take a deep breath, forcing down the hurt his words cause.

"Look, Miguel," you begin, struggling to keep your voice steady. "There’s something we need to talk about, and I think it's important for you to listen to me."

“Fucking hell, woman! What exactly don’t you understand. I’m busy. I don’t care about your little problems, right now.” he barks, not even looking up.

“Miguel,” you speak up, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “ I’ve never asked anything from you. Not once have did I ask you to stay, to feel the same I feel, to fucking talk to me when people are around. Please all I am asking you is to just ... listen to me, fpr once.” Your voice grows stronger as you speak, a determined fire igniting within you.

Miguel finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he seems taken aback by the resolve he saw there.

He rubs his temples. “Can we do this later?”

“No!” you shout. “It’s always later with you. You’re like...like a ghost. Just a figure in the hallway. I don’t need a figure, I need a person! I need someone who listens when...”

He glares at you, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay I will listen just not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“No, it can’t,” you retort, your voice shaking a bit. “Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, you just brush me off? Am I that insignificant to you?”

He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding behind him. “This? This is what you want to talk about?” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Look, I have a million things to deal with and-”

“And what? And I’m not one of them? Just five minutes, Miguel! That’s all I ask!”

The room is tense. Your heart is racing. His eyes are fiery. It's a standoff.

“And what is so important that you have to disrupt everything right now?” he challenges.

Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You're about to say it.

“I...” you stammer. “I need to tell you that...”

Suddenly, the door to the office swings open and Jess storms in.

“Miguel, we have a major issue in Sector 12! The anomalies...” she starts, then catches sight of your tear-streaked face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

Miguel seems to shake off the tension and slips back into commander mode. “No nothing important. What’s happening in Sector 12?”

You can't believe it. Just like that, he turns away. It feels like your heart is being squeezed.

Jess starts rattling off data and scenarios. The two of them are talking, but you don’t hear it anymore. All you can think of is how you almost told him. How you just wanted five minutes.

Your hands shake and you quietly step out of the room. The door closes behind you, and it feels like a chapter that you can’t read has been sealed away.

Web Of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara 

The next day you are on Earth-8311, an anthropomorphic animal-dominated universe. It's the home of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham, and you can't help but find it amusing.

The mission: to transport an anomaly, which resembles an enormous floating jellyfish, back to its home universe. It's been pure chaos here, and you are determined to set things right.

The team: Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker. You're all in your suits, eyes sharp, and webs at the ready.

"Alright, Spiders. Let's round this jelly up and send it home," Peter B. Parker takes charge, shooting a web towards a nearby building.

You swing alongside him, your thoughts a whirlwind. The world around you blurs - the animal citizens, the bustling cityscape, the strange yet familiar surroundings.

The anomaly appears before you, thrashing and pulsating as it floats through the sky. It releases blasts of energy that ripple through the air.

"Watch out, Sunny!" Gwen calls out as she dodges a blast.

You, however, are a split second too late. Your reflexes are off, your movements sluggish. The blast sends you spiraling towards the ground.

Hobie swings in and catches you mid-air, his guitar strapped on his back. “Get it together, Sun!” he shouts over the noise, his punk-styled hair waving wildly.

You shake off your daze and look up to see Peter B. Parker shooting webs to pull the anomaly back down, while Gwen is deploying a device to open a portal back to its home universe.

Your heart races as you focus on the task at hand. You need to get this right, not just for yourself, but for the life you’re now carrying. Your suit seems to glow even brighter in the chaos.

With a final combined effort, you manage to lasso the anomaly and push it through the portal. The anomaly disappears, and the portal closes behind it.

The team regroups on a rooftop. Gwen is catching her breath, Hobie is tuning his guitar, and Peter B. Parker gives you a concerned look.

“Are you okay?” Gwen asks, her voice laced with worry. “You weren’t yourself up there.”

The weight of the secret you’re carrying feels unbearable. But you're not ready to share it.

“Promise me you won’t tell Miguel about this,” you say, your voice barely audible.

Gwen raises an eyebrow, while Hobie crosses his arms. Peter B. Parker simply nods.

“Nah, Bossman doesn’t need to know about this,” Hobie says, and there’s a firmness in his voice that is strangely comforting.

Back in the HQ, your head spins, and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. You mumble a quick excuse about feeling nauseous and practically sprint to the nearest restroom.

Meanwhile, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker head to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

As they sit down at a table with their trays, Gwen breaks the silence. “Is it okay if I say that this mission was kind of easy? Like, I’ve seen Sunny take down Doc Ock from Earth-818, and she did that without any problem. So what was that today?” Gwen’s concern is apparent.

Hobie, munching on a sandwich, nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's like her spidey senses were jammed or somethin'. Never seen her like that before."

Peter B. Parker looks thoughtfully at his sandwich, then glances up at Gwen and Hobie. He’s torn, having promised you to keep your secret but also wanting your friends to understand why you were off your game.

"You guys remember when she fought Morlun on Earth-001? She was a totally smashin’ it, and today, she nearly got turned into spider-paste by a floating jellyfish. That ain’t right," Hobie adds.

Gwen’s eyes suddenly widen. "Oh my God! Do you think she’s in trouble? Like, something from her universe? Or maybe she's having an identity crisis! Should we stage an intervention?"

Peter B. Parker clears his throat. “Maybe she’s just having an off day.”

Gwen’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes Peter. “You know something, don’t you?”

Peter scratches the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Nope, no idea.”

Hobie puts down his sandwich and leans in. "Oi, mate. Spill your guts. There's something dodgy going on. She's always been our burst of sunshine, lifting the mood. But now she's... dimmed. What's going on with our Sunny, Parker?"

Before Peter B. Parker could answer Gwen’s barrage of questions, Jess - Spider-Woman - appears, her belly showing. She takes a seat at the table and, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place, asks them about their latest mission.

"So, how did your mission go?" Jessica asks, while munching on her Burger.

"Nothing to report, Jess," Gwen answers, a little too quickly, her face all sunshine and false smiles. Peter simply nod in agreement.

“Yah, all good!” Hobie chimes in, flashing a grin that seems a little too bright.

“How about you? How are you holding up?” Peter asks Jess, trying to steer the conversation away from the mission.

Jessica shrugs, not overly concerned, and bites into her burger. "'M good. You know,  I'm so glad I can finally eat a burger again. At the beginning of my pregnancy, practically every food made me nauseous, especially after swinging around on missions.”

Suddenly, there's a moment of collective realization among Gwen, Hobie. It’s as if their spider senses are tingling in unison. They exchange knowing looks, all of them silently putting the pieces together.

Gwen’s eyes are wide, Hobie’s eyebrows are raised, and they both turn to look at Peter, who simply nods.

Jess, noticing the silent exchange, squints at them. “What is up with you guys? You’re acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

“Uh, nothin’!” Hobie says, a little too quickly.

“Yeah, just tired from the mission,” Gwen adds, trying to play it cool.

Jess rolls her eyes and stands up. “Alright, weirdos. I’m gonna go find some normal people to talk to,” she says jokingly and walks away.

After she leaves, the trio leans in.

“Sunny’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Gwen whispers.

Hobie's eyes are as wide as saucers. “That would explain everything!”

Peter B. Parker nods. “We need to be there for her, but remember, it’s her news to share when she’s ready.”

They make a pact to support you without pushing you to reveal anything before you're ready.

As you walk back into the cafeteria, you find your friends huddled together. They break apart when they see you and welcome you back with smiles and light conversation, but something in their demeanor is different but you can’t put your finger on it. They are being more attentive, considerate, and frankly, a little too curious about your well-being.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sunny?" Gwen asks for the third time since you sat down. Her concern is genuine, but her intensity is slightly off-putting.

"Yeah, do you need anything?" Hobie offers, his eyes gleaming with unspoken curiosity. "Food, drink, or maybe... pickles?" Pickles? Thats oddly specific.

There's a burst of laughter from Gwen, and even Peter is suppressing a chuckle.

"What's up with the pickles?" You ask, looking at them suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing!" Gwen says, a little too quickly, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Hmm, pickles and ice cream, a weird combo, innit?" Hobie wonders aloud, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Again, there's suppressed laughter, and you look at each of them, a realization slowly dawning on you. You turn to Peter, your gaze steady and serious. "You told them, didn't you?" Peter looks shocked, but quickly composes himself. "I didn't exactly tell them, per se," he confesses, "I might've confirmed their suspicions when they asked, but they figured it out on their own. Spider senses and all that jazz.”

Before you could respond, Gwen and Hobie jump in, both talking over each other in an attempt to apologize.

"We're sorry, Sunny," Gwen says sincerely. "We didn't mean to invade your privacy, it's just that... we're worried about you. Please don’t be mad."

Hobie nods, adding, "And we're right behind ya, whatever comes our way. We've got your back, no doubt about it."

You are happy, while the situation isn't ideal, but at least you're not alone. You have friends who care about you and, despite their unconventional way of showing it, they are there for you. You smile, comforted by their concern, and grateful for their support.

"Yeah," you finally say, "I guess we’re gonna need a lot more pickles and ice cream around here, huh?"

“Sooo...who’s the dad? Is he hot?” Gwen, leaning on the table with her elbows, asks shyly after a while.

You let out a long sigh, “He’s very hot... but also a colossal jerk.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “You took my advice and talked to him then?”

You shake your head, your eyes starting to well up. “No, I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He was busy, and I guess I wasn’t important enough. So, the baby won’t be either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hobie's eyes narrow, and his face is flushed with anger. "Who's this bloke, eh? I swear on me nan's grave, I'll give him a right proper earful! No one treats our Sunny like a tosser and gets away with it!"

Gwen jumps in, her eyes wide with speculation, “Wait, is he a Spider? Is it Peter? Or the other Peter? Or—”

“Guys, guys!” you cut them off, your voice cracking. “Please, it doesn’t matter. He made it clear where I stand, and it’s not with him.”

There’s a silence that settles over the table as your friends look at each other and then back to you. Their faces are a mix of concern, sadness, and frustration.

Peter B. is the first to break the silence. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve got us. If the dad doesn’t want to step up, then he’s missing out on something amazing.”

Gwen nods, her eyes firm with resolve. “Yeah, we’re family. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”

Hobie, still fuming, finally calms down enough to say, "All you gotta do is whistle, love, and we'll be there in a blink. Even if it means thumping some manners into this mystery idiot."

You can't help but crack a small smile, despite the tears. You’re overwhelmed by the love and support your friends are giving you.

“Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me.” 

They all reach out and there’s a group hug right in the middle of the cafeteria. You didn’t know how much you needed this until it happened.

Part 2 Webs of Fate

a/n: Thank you guys for all your love on this fic so far.I really appreciate each like, comment, reblog <3. I still can’t reply to your comments so please if you want to tagged (and are not already) comment on part 2 and I’ll do my best and add you.Also I am open to requests, critic and wishes. Have a wonderful day. xx

11 months ago

dearest gentle readers | introduction

Dearest Gentle Readers | Introduction

pairing(s): marauders (undetermined) x reader

warning(s): eventually 18+, bridgerton au, mentions of marriage, slight cursing?, i’m not british so just pretend i know what i’m talking about, mentions of scandal and incest, not proofread/edited so forgive me

word count: 818

masterlist

Sponsored by Lady Minerva McGonagall and desperate to find a match before you’re truly considered a spinster, you find yourself caught up in the whirlwind that is The Season. Will you be able to find a husband by August? Or is fortune just as fickle as the ton?

Dearest Gentle Readers | Introduction

Swathes of fabric lined with lace, ruffles, and beads filled the great expanse of the room.

Yellows as pale as cream and blues as deep as midnight thrown over chase and chair. London’s dreary gloom seemed brighter the longer such a vibrant array of colors decorated the space. Lady Minerva McGonagall wasted no expense on the three debutantes she’d chosen to sponsor again this season.

Beside you, Mary eyed the fabrics with rapt attention.

You fingered the expensive satin silk of the dress nearest to you. Simple in silk, but a striking royal purple, it truly was a marvel of craftsmanship.

“I can’t believe how many dresses there are.” Mary’s Scottish accent appeared to be far less pronounced than what you might’ve imagined, but you three were sure to be an odd bunch. Lady McGonagall had sponsored you lot for two years already. A favor welcomed by your not-so-noble families. Or rather, your not-so-wealthy families.

“I’ve decided on new wardrobes for you this season. You will be married by the end of it, if I have any say. Mary’s are by the window and Lily’s are by the bed.”

Minerva’s sharp gaze turned to you. You’d had either the luck or misfortune (which one it was, you weren’t quite sure) to additionally spend the last few years as Minerva’s ward. Her rough edges were thorns you’d grown accustomed to, especially in her times attempting to make you a reputable lady.

“Your’s are by the chest of drawers.”

She’d certainly paid attention to detail. Mary’s dresses consisted almost entirely of her favorites: warm pinks and oranges. Brilliantly cut to showcase her clavicle, each dress appeared as if it would cover her breasts modestly but still draw attention to her long, slender neck. The simplicity of their silhouettes showcased the utterly perfect embroidery that decorated each bodice and skirt.

Lily’s were a myriad of greens, sprinkled with the occasional peach or yellow. Her soft, drapey dresses contrasted beautifully with the sleek lines of Mary’s attire.

Your own clothes appeared to be a quite suitable mixture of the two.

In moody shades of blue and violet, with the odd periwinkle and silver, you were honestly looking forward to donning the impressive garments. Any jewelry you wore would be borrowed from Lady McGonagall’s extensive collection. A collection, you were afraid to say, you’d miss dearly once you wed.

It was Lily that surged forward to examine her pieces, a chorus of thank yous from each of your lips as you did the same. Minerva smiled knowingly. Your dresses last year and the year before were beautiful, yes, but these actually suited you in a way those hadn’t. Three years of sponsoring the same girls had gone from a favour to fondness. She leaned onto her cane as her gaze flicked between you all. Still, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t eager to find you husbands.

“This is beautiful,” Lily breathed. In her hands, an elegant ensemble of a cream colored fabric hung. You grinned. If this was any indication of how this year’s season would go, you were more than ready. Jill, Minerva’s favorite maid, entered the room holding four sheets of familiar pale paper. Your eyes narrowed in delight. Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers were a joy every season. Mary reached for the pamphlet first. She knew better than anyone how gossip could be wielded as a weapon, and her eagerness to uncover the secrets of this year’s marriage mart was palpable. You felt the same.

Dearest Gentle Readers | Introduction

Dearest Gentle Readers,

How lovely it is to greet you again. Our time away from Society has proven wonderfully refreshing indeed, though I would be quite the liar if I claimed to not miss you. Our extraordinary ton has now returned from our glorious reprieve, and it seems there are a many anxious mamas hoping to prey on the unsuspecting wiles of this Season’s eligible bachelors.

Last year, scandal swept through the ton when none other than Miss Narcissa Black married Duke Lucius Malfoy in secret after a supposedly whirlwind love affair. Hopefully, Mr. Sirius Black is as unbothered as he appears.

Regardless of the nearly disastrous ending to last year’s entertaining exploits, the new batch of debutantes seem sparkling indeed.

There is fierce Lady Charity Burbage, who proves to be a bold wonder amongst a meek crowd. Or perhaps one might find interest in Lady Aurora Sinistra, who I dare say is more brilliant and sharp than ever. Even Lady Pandora Rosier seems dreamier of late.

There is one thing for certain, reader: this season will be one to remember.

Keep your wits about you. Scandal lurks in every corner, as tricky as a hungry fox and more than ready to sink its claws into an unknowing victim. Guard your hearts, gentle ton, for I fear what I will write this season will be quite damning indeed.

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown

Dearest Gentle Readers | Introduction
2 years ago
Aww, My Little Boys !!

Aww, my little boys !! <3

1 year ago
Pedro Pascal With Chicken Little 🐔

Pedro Pascal with Chicken Little 🐔

.

After I saw that interview with him being compared to chicken little I cant help but draw them 😆

11 months ago

Do you ever read a really questionable fanfiction or a spicy love story and think "what the fuck did I just read"

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d1lf-loverrr - Ruby Winchester
Ruby Winchester

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